you know you're in Houston when...

... you go to cover a cattle sorting clinic, not knowing what that exactly is, and not only do you end up being an expert in cattle sorting (short of actually getting on a horse and herding the young steers from one pen to another in numerical order - it is actually very tricky) you find yourself sitting in the announcer's booth overlooking the arena drinking a beer and socializing like old friends with rancher women around the age of 40 whom you've just met...

... you buy a house and one day the doorbell rings and it's this old fellow who says he was a friend of the previous owner and he still has a key to the place and would you like to come and pick it up, here's my address. then he drops by later on in the day with the actual keys...

... everyone in town reads your column the paper and you get people you've never met coming up and asking you how the painting is going...

... you go to the "big city" (i.e. Prince George) and you remark how nice it is that you can walk around town and be annonymous... sometimes you just need a break from the place "where everyone knows your name"

well, that's it for now... no news is good news (atleast when you're not in the newspaper business)... Mike's family from Chicago made it safely into Canada and are settling into Abbotsford for a few days before heading up here. the garden is finally planted... all the little seedlings are finally all in... though my aching back has dampened my eagerness to run out there every five minutes and check how things are doing...