Saturday, February 7, 2009

A good day's work

I was supposed to call a service to clean the end of parent's driveway - they arrive home today after travelling to warmer climes - but I forgot yesterday.  I also kinda missed shovelling snow over the past few weeks - just a little, and the end of a drive seemed like the perfect amount.  Enough to feel like something was accomplished, but not so much that you give up in sweaty heap with half to go.  I was able to wake up early enough to get there and shovel snow, buy some salt and kitty litter (not related with snow shovelling), buy some food and get the kids to swimming without killing myself.  Or anyone else.  Always a plus.  Later in the day I discovered that a sign that described hours lied to me.  I thought the guy who sharpens my skates was open until 5pm on Saturdays.  So when I went by at 3:30, I figured I was getting there in good time.  The place was empty, no note on the door.  So I decided to give him a call and I find out that he changed his hours to close at 3pm.  The sign had the correct hours on one side but not the other - he figured someone wiped off the adjustment on one side.  Very annoying.   With all this stuff going on, I think it will be a pleasant sleep tonight however.

I've been invited, via Facebook, to an event in a few weeks - a curling event!  I've thrown a couple of rocks before and I'm eager to throw more.  My wife isn't too keen on the curling part, but I think the camaraderie and fellowship and space heaters will be more her style.  Anyway, I didn't realize there was still a curling club in my area, but this event will be at the London Curling Club.  And this club is the old east downtown area - something I never would have suspected!  I have been near this building many times, but never knew it was there.  Oh well.   So hopefully I'll be able to do some curling and have a few drinks - hopefully at the same time.  I understand that out west the bar is right at the end of the sheets, so no need to wander far to get that calming finger of rye before letting fly with the hammer.

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