Past 10pm.
The highlight of the day for us was driving out to Seaforth to the Hope for Wildlife sanctuary open house. Took about an hour to get there either way. We figured it would be a busy place today, but we were wrong. It was cuh ray zee busy. Cars lined up for kilometres and kilometres. They arranged a series of shuttles to pick people up and take them to and from the main entrance.
We managed to park within a walking distance to the sanctuary. Got there around 1:45. Over the course of the next 90 minutes we saw most of what there was to see, but there were a few places that were so busy that we didn't even try to get in. I did use my new-to-me camcorder to shoot plenty of video of those places, though.
There was an emu walking around. There were a couple of people who had falcons on their arms. Or maybe they were hawks. We saw a baby seal that can never go back to the wild. Patricia went into the reptile tent and stroked a snake. I waited outside. We went into the building that will, once they have finished construction, serve as the place where the vets will save the animals that come under their care.
Ran into retired politician Peter Stoffer. Introduced myself. That man is busier out of office than he was, in.
Around 3:15, I left Patricia by the main entrance and retrieved the car and picked her up. On the way back, she bought me an ice cream cone. A scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough resting comfortabl on a scoop of blackberry cheese cake. Upon returning home, I cooked dinner, and we spent some time this evening finishing season one of The Riches on Netflix, and then Match Game. At 9, I came downstairs and applied my most recent edits to my next true crime piece for Frank. I wanna read it over one last time, make sure I didn't misspell someone's name or something, and then send it off to my editor along with associated pictures, for his consideration for a future issue of Frank.
I had meant to begin work on my next missing persons article this weekend, but the time got away from me. What with driving around on Saturday and the long drive today, there wasn't much time to do that stuff. Tomorrow, though.
While I was editing away in the last hour, I tuned into CBC radio and listened to Michael Enright's "Rewind" program. The subject tonight was the 1930 crash of the R101 airship, which had a larger loss of life than the Hindenburg a few years later. But I had never heard of this before in my life. Of particular interest was Enright's comment at the end that the music they used during the show was taken from the most recent Iron Maiden album, an 18 minute saga called "Empire of the Clouds", which is about that disaster. People will write a song about any damn thing, won't they? If I wait long enough someone will probably write a song about the pimple I had on my arse when I was 11.
Or maybe I'll break down and write one myself. I could use the royalty payments.
I think I will start coming up with catchy song titles before I turn in. Send your suggestions along, won't you?
See you tomorrow.
Bevboy
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