Dahlia Creek

This past weekend, I paid a long overdue visit to some friends up north. It was probably the last weekend I could swing it before the onslaught of Thanksgiving.

For my own future reference, I took the Dartmouth Coach up there. A pretty well-kept bus with the two caveats being:

1) You have to buy your ticket at least the day before.
2) There are only 1 or 2 trips you can take each day.

The second point makes sense, I suppose. The round-the-clock convenience of big city living had me thinking there'd be buses leaving to and from this small town every hour on the hour. Both points accounted for me staying on additional night.

Which actually worked out well. I got to do some improvised cooking for the family. A variation on the "three ingredient spaghetti sauce" that Jenny made me hip to. I must say, there's a unique satisfaction in making a meal out of what's available in the pantry, without going on a separate shopping trip.

Georgia and Dahlia are growing up fast. Seems just a moment ago, Georgia was a speechless newborn. Now she's a talker. Not all of it makes sense but I think that must be part of learning language: trying out different sounds, experimenting with your vocal cords. You can see her moving through the world and absorbing everything. Each day is an endless education.

Nicko pointed out that we've known each other for 17 years, which is like horrifying. But really, how can you ever truly know someone...?