Dear Jasmina

During our stay in Saskatoon, we went for a walk along the river. After 7:30. Now, that is actually an event. Since Marie-Hélène was born, we’ve never left her alone in the evening for a lack of babysitters. But that is not the point of this post.

This is my youngest brother Abram.

After taking that picture, we saw this:

Despite having had an excellent supper, and being stuffed (hence the need to walk), we shared a bowl of ice-cream, Saskatoon-berry-flavored. It was delicious. Not in the normal, offhanded compliment kind-of-way. No. It was delicious as in: next time I’m in Saskatoon, this place along the river is a must-stop. And sharing a bowl won’t do.

Then Christian convinced Abram to pose. “Pretend you work for the city, and you’re pulling out this weed!” I don’t know where he gets his ideas, but I think I married him for that.

And Abram obliged. And I think this picture illustrates exactly why the career-options test he took at school indicated he could be an actor.

Sorry Saskatoon, that weed never got pulled. You might want to see to it.

Then, Abram took a picture of his oldest sister (the one who used to call him Pinkerton when he was only three feet tall) and brother-in-law.

And on our way back, we found a dock, where some people got all silly…

And for 2 minutes, I suddenly wanted to move back to Saskatoon. But when I got home to Winnipeg, I realised I didn’t regret living here at all…