Pop quiz time, kids. Do you remember Harvey Kirk?
Do-do-do-dah, do-do-do (the little theme from 'Jeopardy').
No, this is not Harvey Kirk. This is our attractive daughter Becca after a muscle-melting sauna and a reinvigorating shower. She arrived on our doorstep just around suppertime, driving from Edmonton via Jasper and Hwy 5 today. The plan was to go from her friend's place to Airdrie and the relatives there, but weather conditions weren't favorable so she did the marathon route.
As I type and sip hot chocolate, also blissed-out from the sauna, she's already crawled into bed, poor thing. Her notebooks are spread across the kitchen table, studying already underway for her upcoming mid-term exams.
Bryan and I spent most of the weekend over to Revelstoke, visiting his mom. Well, visiting and also watching endless hours of Day 2 of the Vancouver Olympics. It's times like this when I both wish we had television and am glad we don't. It would be so easy to succumb to the temptation to vegetate slack-jawed in front of the boob tube watching endless sports coverage.
Quite frankly, I don't have that kind of time to waste.
Finally, finally I have my hands on one of the manuscripts and photo material that Val has been working on with a 'difficult' client. I'd like to get a rough layout of the book done this week, perhaps Wednesday.
I've already said that the house is a mini transit terminal this week. Well, that got a little more complicated and it's entirely my fault.
Bryan was on the phone with friend Gerald, currently lounging at his place in Phoenix. He was very wistful at the end of the conversation, looking outside at the gloomy rainy day, and I felt badly for him because he'd had complete faith that this was the year he'd finally get down to Baja with David and their bikes. Of course, his AS blow-up ended that.
After my curling game on Thursday (we won, thank you for asking, and I made some tremendous shots - not bad for an old birthday girl), I got on line and looked up possible flights to Phoenix from Kelowna. Westjet has direct flights but they are very dear. I then looked at Air Canada (I know, but must needs) and found some great deals: $200 down, $80 back via Vancouver and San Francisco. Bought tickets for departure on the 16th, return on the 24th and felt quite good about it. Bryan was all excited.
Then laying in bed I remembered: I have people coming and going all week and he was to be the taxi service!
Thank goodness for Rebecca's arrival!!!
She's taking her dad to Kelowna on Tueday, picking up Fay on Thursday (if you read this before you leave home, Fay, SURPRISE) and studying in between. Juliette doesn't arrive until Saturday evening, by which time Becca will be on her way back to Vermilion.
All is well.
Despite reports that there is snow in 49 of the 50 US States (no report on Puerto Rico), Gerald assured Bryan that Phoenix is snow-free, that Arizona has only been snowy at higher elevations. All that snow in Florida and nothing at Whistler - go figure.
So anyway, back to Harvey Kirk. Last weekend at the Super Bowl party, some CTV network commercial with Lloyd Robertson came on and I wondered aloud, "Who was that enormous old guy who was the late evening news anchor when Lloyd started? What was his name?I remember he had a drinking problem."
A week later at Mom G's last night, watching the freestyle ski event, the same question came up. It took me all evening to dredge the name Harvey Kirk from the musty cobwebbing basement corners of my mind.
Aha, had you wondering too. Well, only if you're a Canadian over the age of 45.