Tired of listening to waffling (not of waffling itself: ask for a waffle and you're likely to get one) about where the kids would be over the giant easter break they get, I decided to just go ahead and book my flight to Victoria. Alas, alack and alay, it is not to be. No seats available for the time I want to go. Yes, one can drive. But I am not really much of a mountain driver; I have done the mountain thing, but I only did driving duties in summer, and with someone to take over when I couldn't stand it anymore. See, the thing is I awalys want to be looking around at everything. And I've heard that isn't the safest way to drive. I don't think I'd do so well on my own. Having the kids might make it easier - NO!, I don't let them drive - but also harder in a strange way. In the line of strangness, I could try to find a passenger, but we all know how that would turn out, don't we? I can't step out my own front door without something happening, taking a stranger to the coast...I might as well just step in front of a bus right now. Although just being murdered would be too straightforward for me. I would likely end up driving the pope to Vancouver and have to listen to dull pontifications the whole way.
The best laid plans o mice and KB gang aft aglay.
Friday, February 24, 2006
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