Where is my “Queen of #&@$ing Everything” button when I need it? I used to keep it on a fav-o-rite old jacket of mine until one day we were at a Brownie Girl Scout event with a bunch of 1st graders and one of the few kids who could read… Oops. I haven’t seen it in about a billion years. Maybe I’ll look around on eBay…

I am back to probably 98% today. About the only “normal” thing I bagged today was my 0-skunk-30 walk. It was 20 degrees when I woke up and I knew there would be black ice about and I decided to lie low and bag it. I went to work. I worked all day. I survived a long Tower of Babel style meeting in the late afternoon. I knew it would be interesting when the LSCHP came in 10 minutes late, sat down next to his minion (aka me, the presenter) and whispered, “What are we doing here?” Ummmm… I told him and then I stage-whispered his question to the other folks in the room and hilarity ensued. The meeting was a long slog of legacy/web-speak stuff (don’t ask) that I get to translate into a functional spec that the development team can follow. Wish me luck.

As a once Methodist / lifelong agnostic, I am not qualified to comment on the new pope. I am very impressed by his apparent humility (politicians, take a note) but I doubt much will change in the grand scheme of Catholicism. Last Saturday, I walked from the Hotel Ojibway in Sault Ste. Siberia up to *my* house on Superior Street (the house I grew up in, not the one I’m trying to sell). And then, I tried to recreate the walk I used to take to my grandma’s house down on John Street. That walk involved walking through the parking lot on the block that housed St. Joseph’s Catholic Church along with the K-8 school that my childhood BFF attended and some kind of nunnery or something. The church is still there. The school is gone and I *think* the “nunnery” is too. Despite the huge snowbanks surrounding Jesus, I could still walk through the parking lot.

After that, I couldn’t quite remember my usual route to my grandma’s house. I mean, I knew where her house was and I did walk by it. I just couldn’t remember my *childhood* route there. Possibly it was variable, since I also walked to friends’ houses in the neighborhood.

Every time I walk through my childhood neighborhood, it is like being in a time warp. It was wonderful walking around my old neighborhood in Sault Ste. Siberia last weekend. I don’t think a lot of people have the opportunity to tour their childhood neighborhood. Assuming they even grew up in *one* neighborhood… For now, when I am up in Siberia, I can walk to my childhood neighborhood when I want to. No one knows me there now and I feel a bit like a ghost. Eventually, I guess I will be walking around there *as* a ghost. Oh, that’ll be a while from now. Just sayin’. [grin]

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