In this one I lose my pants.

My love for all of you dear readers is well documented. Not only have you guys managed to handle my months and months of radio silence, but you came back to wish me bon voyage on the way to France. Wait a tic, you did not. NONE of you came. Why is that fair reader?

However, I forgive you. I cannot stay mad at you guys (this is owing to your incredible collective cuddliness).
Regular missives will now resume as I travel for the next two weeks covering south of France, Paris, London and then after a day or two off, Acton-Waterloo, Ontario.

The upcoming 24 hours will now be taken up by travelling across one continent to another over a giant pond, followed by travelling from England to France under another giant pond. But every journey starts at the same place. Currently, I am warming my posterior in a very cool terminal in Toronto Pearson Airport wishing for the moment when I will be allowed to take my pants off.

In this one I discover that retirees are full of lies.

People in Canada had a long weekend in the not too distant past celebrating the birth of this nation, as well as the one to  the south. No. I do not mean Mexico, although I would like to celebrate their independence day as well (doing this would involve drinking Tequila).