One of those sub tropical day in Nova Scotia that make me wonder why pineapples can't grow here. I wore shorts again today, after thinking I shouldn't be wearing them after Labour Day. But regular pants would have been too much.
I am going to have to come up with some new topics. I was writing about radio here until Frank Magazine hired me to do that. I was writing about missing persons and unsolved murders until... Frank Magazine hired me to do that, too. That leaves me discussing what I did today. And my hair.
I am thinking of getting my hair cut tomorrow night after work. There is a barber shop on the way home, in Lakeside. I wrote about it before, the last time I was there, in June. With all due respect to Sailor Bup's, and to Floyd and her hubby Mark, and all the people who work there, it is downtown, and it is not that convenient for me to get there. Fine Lines in Lakeside, I drive past every day on my way to work, and every night on my way home. Easy Peasy.
Saturday morning we get up earlier than normal to drive to the home of the father of a missing person. This is a person I have been very much looking forward to talking to. The man's son's disappearance is very mysterious, and I am sure I have a lot to learn about it. That all happens on Saturday. I hope you pick up the resultant article in Frank Magazine, probably some time in October.
I think I will turn in. Another long day tomorrow.
See you then.