I made waffles from scratch this morning - when you beat the egg whites and fold them into the batter, it really makes the waffle much fluffier. My favourite part is blending in the vanilla extract. Its smell reminds me of baking lumpy, asymmetrical cookies as a kid and bright summer afternoons in my parents' kitchen.
After waffles, Shayne and I went to Queen Elizabeth Park with the intention of playing golf but couldn't due to poor employee scheduling. So we went to the conservatory where the greenhouse's humidity fogged up my glasses. We mimicked Rosie the African parrot by clicking our tongues and chirping. Large koi fish swam in the man-made streams.
After the conservatory, we walked aimlessly around the park admiring other people's dogs. A fellow, I do not remember his name, asked Shayne and I if we would be witnesses to a wedding. His wife, Karen, is a marriage commissioner, and she was marrying a couple, Wayne and Chun, right then and there. We agreed to help. All we had to do was watch Karen say a few phrases that Wayne and Chun repeated. Then Wayne and Chun signed the contract as the fellow took their picture, and then both Shayne and I signed the contract while having our picture taken. Then, as simple as a few minutes can be, Wayne and Chun were married. They thanked Shayne and I for our help; we congratulated them and wished them our best as we departed. It was only about twenty feet later that Shayne and I realized that we could run back to Karen and get married right then and there. We paused; our feet pegged to the earth. We were standing on a dirt path where turning left meant marriage and right meant to continue as we were; the words should have been carved on a wooden signpost pointing in each direction. And we kept repeating the question "Should we . . . ? Should we . . . ?" to each other, but we were unable to walk either way.
When rational thinking set in, Shayne said that we better keep walking. On another rational note: neither Shayne nor I want to be in a higher tax bracket at the moment.
So we came across a sandwich board that said "Open House: Curling" and decided to do that instead. Curling is actually quite challenging and kind of fun. George, one of the curling coaches, taught us how to throw, curl and slide - I kept loosing my balance and ending up on my ass. If I had more time, I would not mind taking up the sport - Shayne has grander dreams of learning how to curl and then challenging his adolescent nieces to a curling dual. Sounds like another kind of destiny.
Flux capacitor.
After waffles, Shayne and I went to Queen Elizabeth Park with the intention of playing golf but couldn't due to poor employee scheduling. So we went to the conservatory where the greenhouse's humidity fogged up my glasses. We mimicked Rosie the African parrot by clicking our tongues and chirping. Large koi fish swam in the man-made streams.
After the conservatory, we walked aimlessly around the park admiring other people's dogs. A fellow, I do not remember his name, asked Shayne and I if we would be witnesses to a wedding. His wife, Karen, is a marriage commissioner, and she was marrying a couple, Wayne and Chun, right then and there. We agreed to help. All we had to do was watch Karen say a few phrases that Wayne and Chun repeated. Then Wayne and Chun signed the contract as the fellow took their picture, and then both Shayne and I signed the contract while having our picture taken. Then, as simple as a few minutes can be, Wayne and Chun were married. They thanked Shayne and I for our help; we congratulated them and wished them our best as we departed. It was only about twenty feet later that Shayne and I realized that we could run back to Karen and get married right then and there. We paused; our feet pegged to the earth. We were standing on a dirt path where turning left meant marriage and right meant to continue as we were; the words should have been carved on a wooden signpost pointing in each direction. And we kept repeating the question "Should we . . . ? Should we . . . ?" to each other, but we were unable to walk either way.
When rational thinking set in, Shayne said that we better keep walking. On another rational note: neither Shayne nor I want to be in a higher tax bracket at the moment.
So we came across a sandwich board that said "Open House: Curling" and decided to do that instead. Curling is actually quite challenging and kind of fun. George, one of the curling coaches, taught us how to throw, curl and slide - I kept loosing my balance and ending up on my ass. If I had more time, I would not mind taking up the sport - Shayne has grander dreams of learning how to curl and then challenging his adolescent nieces to a curling dual. Sounds like another kind of destiny.
Flux capacitor.
Labels: cool stuff, life, shayne
