Post 1720 - A Post Written In Advance (Maybe!)

It's Friday night, but this blog post won't be published until Saturday.  Trying out, for the first time, blogger's advance dating post option.  It lets me choose the date and time that a blog post is published.


Let's see here.  What will I do tomorrow?  Or, rather, what did I do today?  

Saturday morning, I got up early and got my hair cut by that 90 year old guy in Canning.  I have the feeling he will still be cutting hair when I'm 90.  He will have the last laugh.  He used to own the entire building that the grocery store in Canning is in.  He sold it, but carved out his barber shop and insisted on a life-long lease on the space, which cannot be broken until he calls it a day and goes to the big barber pole in the sky.    He doesn't so much cut my hair as shaves my head, making me look like one of the Matt's at my work.  The guys at work who read this, can speculate on which of those Matt's I resemble.  Be nice!

After that, of course, I took my mother shopping.  Lord Almighty, we shopped.  It was one of those Bataan Death March shopping expeditions that my mother, who uses a cane, can still go on.  She had more energy than Jack Layton did during the last federal election.  We  went to Superstore, Wal*Mart, Dollarama; shopped for used clothing at every Frenchy's from here to Yarmouth and back again.  We refueled at a restaurant for lunch while my mother pored over every flyer and examined each shopping list with an eagle eye.  I knew better than to speak to her during this period of time.

We returned to shopping with a gusto that belied her 79 years on this planet.  Eventually, and I mean eventually, we returned home and I collapsed on my bed.  At one point, Newbie held a mirror over my mouth to see if I was still breathing.  That little scamp!

It is now Saturday evening, and I will rest and recuperate, perhaps even transcribe some more of the Dan Barton interview.  I really should finish it one of these years.

At least, that is what I think will happen on Saturday.  After all, I am writing this in advance.  or maybe I'm not.  Hee hee.


Seeya.


Bevboy