“What is this, Papi?”
“I don’t understand all the details, but from what I gather, this is a Canadian breakfast, son. A fried egg, sausages and toast. Eat up, we’re off to Canada and you’ll need a little fat to keep you warm.”
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to wear a toque? Not to mention healthier?”
“Couldn’t tell you. But Canadians eat this stuff , they must have a reason. So for your Mother’s sake, eat your processed meat products.”
“Hhmmm. So, should I mention Mom is eating croissants and melon in the living room or just register myself for a CPR class?”
“Well, that can’t be good for a fellow on a daily basis, but I have to admit, those greasy little sausages slide down pretty well. Canada, here I come!”
Hey dear readers. We are off to Canada in the morning. It’s been a busy prep time, and we’ll be out of action for a few days on arrival. I’m afraid the posts will a bit scarce for a while. But please check in, now and then, for some tales from the great white north.
Three Spanish men on the loose in British Columbia. There will be stories.
I hope your summer is shaping up to hold just the right mix of excitement and relaxation. Thanks for reading.