Sigh.

No, really. sigh

It was that lovely. It was that magical.

If I wasn't so spent in this moment I would totally do a birdalogue here with these pigeons.

I took about 483,000 shots of the damn birds and can totally imagine the whole dialogue going on this early Sunday morning. Alas, it shall be one of those flowers that never blooms in the desert cause this week is coming at me like dog starved for attention. We've got meetings for breakfast, projects for lunch, no time for naps and deadlines for dinner from now until the new year.

But it's okay because Montreal m'a boulverse in the best way possible.

Oh, and remind me to tell you the story of the passport. Not that there's a story to tell, but I think I could cobble one together for you based on the back story of why Christine and I did not sail through customs at the border this morning, but were stopped and required to come inside and explain why I was carrying a stolen passport. Trust me, it's not that exciting, but I think it could be a good starting point for an entirely different story. You never know.

I rolled up the driveway around 3pm to a sparkling, snowy wonderland, three bouncing dogs and one very sweet man who did not have a lovely weekend due to web hosting struggles and sore throat, alas and alack.
(private NOTE to T: take a freaking holiday once in a while, dude. You work too hard.)

For me, however, it was an extraordinary weekend-- one that I will look back on with some frequency as it definitely marks a turning point in my life. So much good. So much creative exploration and encouragement. So much living in the flow.

Hell, I might even get us a Christmas tree and slap it silly with tinsel and twinkly lights.

Yeah, it was that good.

Bisous, E

P.S. I seem to have lost the borders on my photographs . . . unconscious symbolism or travel fatigue, you decide.

got 2 cents?