Oops.

My mom's flight will leave in under an hour. That means that the cottage is mine, all mine.

I moved the first truckload of stuff out there the other day, but there's still about one more load to go out before I can consider myself to be fully "moved in". I didn't think that I'd moved that much into Andrea's place, but it's looking like there's a fair chunk more than I though there was. I'm not looking forward to moving the bar again - despite my best attempts to destroy it, it's still about 30 - 40 bottles strong, and growing.

Perhaps some of my dear associates will help me in whittling it down next week.

It's only fair, after all, considering how well my friends look after me. Currently, two such friends (Riz and Yonek) are abroad (Europe and Cayman Islands) and have offered to bring back fuel for my vices. Riz is bringing back a bottle of premium gin, while Yonek is bringing back Cuban cigars and a bottle of Cayman rum.

The trip to the Toronto area went well. I can't say that I did a hell of a lot. Most of my time was spent reading and playing the C.S.I. video game. It's not a very technically polished game (lots of buggy animation, with the occasional dead crash) but it's reasonably mentally challenging, and the storyline is entertaining. They used the actors from the show to do the voices, which I thought was a nice touch. It certainly helps to make up for the off-kilter computer graphics.

I had a bit of an awkward moment today. My great-aunt Mavis passed away a few days back. I didn't know her well, but my mother took her granddaughter to the hospital when she had her stroke. Anyways, my grandmother and uncle were going to the funeral this afternoon. This is mentioned earlier today, but I promptly forget about it. We're taking my mother to the airport, but we planned to have a visit with Grammy before she left. While we're there, my Uncle arrives in a shirt and tie.

And what do I say?

"Hey, Uncle Rick! Lookin' SHARP!"

To which Andrea stage whispers, "He's going to a funeral."

Oops.