But I guess, technically, it is still fall.

At least in the sense that the canal is not yet frozen over.
Word on the street is that once it does freeze, everybody skates their way to work.

I wouldn’t mind living in that world. I am thinking it looks something like Candy Land. You know, the part towards the end with the snowy queen princess lady. And you’ll skate right past the Peppermint Stick Forrest and right on over the Gum Drop Mountains and you’ll be the first to reach the Candy Land Castle and you’ll win. You’ll win at life, just like that. And maybe Ottawa throws in some extra large candy cane pillars for good measure and a hint of color. Canada already has free health care, so a few pieces of candy thrown into the mix for their citizen’s enjoyment wouldn’t surprise me one bit.

And I am enthralled by the antics of the little black squirrels I see here.

I followed this guy for a while, trying to get a good shot of him. He finally obliged, nut in his mouth and everything.

And contrary to what this picture portrays, this squirrel is not some sort of terrifying demon squirrel.
Well, at least as far as I know. He seemed quite normal.

Except for the red eyes, of course.

But his head didn’t do a full rotation, nor did he levitate or vomit all over the park. At least not during the few minutes I followed him around.

And it has occurred to me that a massage might be in order. I have been under some stress lately, and apparently I carry my stress just fine in my shoulders and neck. Because when my friend Amos simply put his hands on my shoulders all parts of me started melting in gratitude. And then he started kneading and it was heaven as he moved my muscles around and then he started pressing and it was hell as he targeted the particularly painful spots.

And then we started chatting and I did a terrible thing. Because right when he asked if we could go on a date at some point, I turned my back to him to say good night to my friends at another table. So it sounded something like this:

(boldly and enthusiastically in tone) Maybe we could go on a (at this point he sees me turn my back, and so his words fade into just a whisper and I barely even hear the word) date sometime...

Luckily my brain did that instant replay thing that allows you to quickly process what just happened a second ago, and I turned right back to him as quickly as any torso has turned since God decided to give torsos the ability to turn and, amid peals of laughter, told him that I would love to go on a date with him and I was so sorry that I turned my back at that most vulnerable of moments.

He understood.

And we laughed.

But don’t worry, the date would be far from romantic.

And my roommate must be watching youtube because only a few moments ago I could hear the yip yip yip yip yip yip from those alien puppets from Sesame Street, but that quickly turned into some eighties pop ballad and now?

Single Ladies.

Of course.