The Queen is coming to town. At least she did in 1954. I was reading the local paper and saw that "the Queen and Duke of Edinburgh (Prince Phillip) will arrive in the province on the last stage of their Dominion tour...Gore will have the honor of welcoming the Royal couple to the province." Poor G, she got so excited that they would travel down Main St. We were just there (to pick up my rental bike) and no crowds. G was like a dog ready to go for a run, ears up, tail wagging. Then I read the part of the story that said this took place January 28, 1954. Oops.

We are about to have dinner. Packaged minestrone soup and some pasta and beans added. G would normally make her own soup and control the ingredients, but she is bemoaning the fact that she has no ingredients (like spices) and very little in the way of pots and pans and other cooking implements. We were supposed to see Skyfall at the local theater (cinema here) at 5:45p. Oops again. The 5:45 show is Monday-Friday and Sunday, not Saturday. Apparently, English is still my second language. Good luck patients in the clinic next Monday.

G drove for the first time today. The streets were mostly empty, no Queen, no movie, and everything in town closes at 1p on Saturdays. She annoyed a little old lady while she was trying to get into gear at an intersection and turned on the wipers instead of the turn signal--twice (they are located on the opposite of the steering column). No dead sheep...yet.