It’s been quite chilly in the mornings for a couple now, on the order of six or seven degrees when we leave the house at 7:30. Breezy, too. It’s easy to forget how windy Vancouver isn’t. I’ve broken out the tights and sweaters and am happy to see them. Summer having been so much warmer here, it feels like a long time since I saw the stuff.
Tonight we are headed to a book launch with Michelle; she’s got a friend named Priscilla Uppal who has a book out, Projection: Encounters With My Runaway Mother. It’s at a bar called No One Writes to the Colonel, which somehow sounds like a place where they check your cool at the door before deciding whether to let you in. Though I see it’s also a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novella.