Friday 29 March 2013


 I heard from thousands of -- would you believe hundreds of? -- all right, dozens of blog regulars that I have been neglecting my duties ....  Well, actually, I heard from my mom.  So here I am, eyes downcast, shuffling my feet and saying sorry.  The word comes easily to me.  It's natural, part of my heritage. Canadians are born with apologies in their mouths.  I was walking up 5th Avenue in Manhattan last summer, and almost bumped into what looked like a fast-striding New Yorker.  No fault involved, but both of us said Sorry at the same time, and then smiled. 
Toronto, I said.
Halifax, until a few years ago, she said.
And we were continued on our two different ways.
Is saying sorry polite behaviour?  It sounds polite.  But I don't if it counts in your favour if it's something you do automatically, and don't mean.  Because, you know, I am kind of lying here.  I am not really sorry for not blogging more.  I have been busy.  My in-basket is still teetering. 

I have been to Saanich and Victoria and Vancouver and far-flung bits of Ontario to talk about the "7" series I am involved in.  (Do you know about this?  7 authors, 7 books of boy adventure, heroes and stories intertwined.  There's a website and cheesy video at www.7theseries.com ...  )  Anyway, after my presentations there'd be hundreds of kids (fine fine -- dozens) wanting to talk and get bits and pieces of their bodies signed.  And then I would go back to my hotel room and write my story about two kids who fall magically into  a comic book and edit my book about zombies.  And then go to bed and get up and do it again. 

I haven't had time for blogging. 

Oooh, funny story though.  I was in Victoria hanging out with a friend of a friend who owns a clothing and sporting goods store.  I'm meeting this guy for the first time and he's a super guy, warm and generous and successful, and he's trying to get me to buy stuff in one of his stores so he can give me a great deal -- and I am not helping.  I am such a bad shopper.  I mean, my coat cost me 3.00 at a second-hand store.  I had to tell Todd that 150.00 jeans for 40.00 was a great deal, thank you thank you, but not really my style.  I did end up buying a pair of runners at a ridiculously good price because I do try to stay fit, and when I jog my regular twenty kilometres my feet will thank me.  Did I say twenty -- would you believe ten?  Five?  One?  Would you believe down to the end of the block to buy licorice? 

Sorry for all the exaggerations.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Is it really good licorice? The kind you find at the Blue Banana with the racing car on the cover? No idea what it costs. But if you share your box I will forgive you for finding a cheaper jacket. Mine was $6.50.

Sand

(I'll bet you do jog 20kms, you liar.)

Richard Scrimger said...

Dutch licorice, baby. Nothing cooler. Though the Aussie stuff is pretty good too. 20 kms would take me hours and leave me creaking like a rusty swing door in a hurricane