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I apologize again for not posting a full blog essay last Friday.

Oh? You say you didn’t notice? Well, we can dream.

It so happens that I was away in British Columbia for ten days. It was family reunion time for the Man In My Life. The whole clan gets together, from around the world, to swap stories, introduce new members of the clan (babies, puppies, ‘outliers’ like myself), and generally have fun boating, swimming, playing baseball, cards, sharing pot luck meals, drinking(when in wine country, drink wine!).

I must admit I was nervous about joining this family of athletes and card buffs since one hates to begin a relationship with ‘Oh, I don’t do sports or anything you like to do’…it has a way of putting people off.  But it is widely known that I don’t do sports, cards, or things involving high speed toys that tend to mangle things…like my tiny, holey bones. The only vaguely ‘sporty’ thing I participate in is swimming — and there are those (mainly my family) who wouldn’t count my crocodile-like apparition with sunglasses, earrings and dorky hat spluttering across the pool in my best imitation of The Thorpedo even vaguely related to swimming.

Despite my lack of interest in and ability at sports, I had a wonderful time. The family was very welcoming, I experienced what it is like to have dozens of family members (a foreign land for an only child) and …what’s not to love about B.C.?

I returned home about the same time Gill arrived from England to spend her annual summer vacation with friends and family here in Canada. Actually, hers is not so much a reunion with friends and family as a way of providing her medical specialists with yet  more mind-boggling physical conditions undocumented in the annals of medicine. I think they delight in her visits since they never know what they’re gonna get…not unlike Forrest Gump and his chocolates.

Last year it was the  wretched toe fungus that threatened to consume most of her left foot toes. With serious medical intervention, she managed to staunch that plague but I’m not convinced she isn’t working on another. And then there was the summer she came down with The Mask of Pregnancy ( a condition that has absolutely NOTHING to do with giving birth). It is  a series of dark blotches  that look like a sunburn that now appear on her body whenever she sees the sun. And on top of that, she is currently covered with a hideous, itchy rash, bug bites, her eyelids open(only partially) sounding like two pieces of velcro ripping apart, she is now so deaf she really could benefit from a hearing aid (except that she has no genuine interest in hearing what anyone is saying to her and on and on. It takes a good two weeks just to attend to all her problems, documents, and dealings with student loan functionaries. Gill cuts a wide swath in the medical, governmental and financial worlds when she travels.

Each to her own kind of reunion, I say. I’d rather eat too many barbecued hamburgers, drink too much wine, waste too much time enjoying a mountain/lake view and making new friends.