Bon Soir, World.
That’s French you know. In case you haven’t heard, I’m France now and I have a vision board to prove it.
That’s besides the point though. What I really wanted to tell you is that S, my little chick who started the blog, gave me the link and I went and I laughed a lot.
If you want to find out about “Why Can’t I Own a Canadian”, you should go visit her at I know you wish your life was more like mine. Or you could ask Google and prove her point all over again.
Tell S that Chicken sent you. She’ll owe me one. Maybe she’ll do laundry. I get giddy just thinking about it.
You don’t have to go, of course you don’t.
But her blog made me snort hot tea out my nose. Again.
You could also take that as a warning, I suppose.
In other news, I’ve managed to catch a few of those cold cooties my boys have been so generous about sharing and seem to be coming down with a really nice head cold. Or something. I’m going to need to borrow some of Scrappy’s Nyquil. If she has any left, that is.
Has anyone been to the Cove yet? Tell me, is it as nice as they say? I’ve got to get my membership straightened out.
See you later alligator.
BTW, you know you can’t really own a Canadian, right? They are not like hamsters, people, even if they are cute and fuzzy.