That men's gold-medal hockey game happening tomorrow? Between Canada and Sweden? I'm cheering for Sweden. OK, OK, that's wimpy. I'M CHEERING FOR SWEDEN.* Well, actually, I'll be sleeping when the game is on, but if perchance I dream of hockey, Sweden will be my team. I'm not Swedish (nor, as far as I know, is Freddie ... or Paul). But regular WWF readers will know from past posts that I like Sweden.
Here's a bit of yellow for the team. Note the snow in the background — Vancouver spring! No blue to be had in the photo itself, hence my font colour.
*OK, we know now that Canada won ... but still. ;-)
Moving along ... yesterday's arduous journey was connected to a Langara English Department meeting. Freddie and I travelled to the college by Car2Go. I thought I'd see how his stamina was doing after the meeting, before making the call about whether to return home by car or public transit.
He was actually very good on the train from Oakridge to Olympic Village (2010 Olympics, that is), but the stations were a challenge with all their to- and fro-ing. Lots of sitting out of the way and calming down ... just watching the busy world go by ...
This shot was taken in a brief interlude between trains, after the platform had pretty much cleared. I was too focused on Freddie during the hubbub to take any photos.
Oh, did I mention the shot I took in the middle of the meeting, when my blood sugar was 9.5?
The photo above was taken this morning. I'm not sure where that door under the frog prince leads.
This guy waiting for the liquor store to open was singing very loudly and tunelessly. Between his racket and the snow, there were no birds to feed.
And now, to wrap up, those exotic foods ...
this recipe recently, and it was yummy. (Gawd, I can't believe I just posted a recipe. So not me.)
A pointless aside: one of my favourite things about Liberté brand products (fabriqués à St-Hubert, Québec) is that the French parts of the labels are written in real French (as opposed to the oft-bizarre phrasings produced by whichever person in Anglophone Company X got the highest grade in French 9*). You'd think that finding a qualified English —> French translator in Canada, of all places, shouldn't be terribly difficult (I'll cut a bit more slack for imports) ... though I suppose there are all sorts of psychological/political/economic barriers getting in the way. Sigh.
*Not that I'd always do spectacularly better! My French is fluent enough that I recognize strange, unidiomatic phrasings, but if somebody asked me to translate their organic kombucha label from English to French, I'd probably suggest they hire a pro.
Walking With Freddie will return in about a week, with photos and musings from our road trip.
Enjoy the game (whatever it may be)!