Basement _____ ?

Well. After that decidedly unsuccessful attempt at blogging, I write to the empty air about my next phase of life. I should probably change the name of the blog in alliterative honor of the new location, but I can't find a good replacement. Most words referring to women that also start with the letter "B" aren't exactly my style: babe, banshee, bimbo, broad... Regardless, here I am, with Ryan, in Toronto, in a basement. We do have a little window in the bedroom and, from the bed where I now sit, one can see the trunk of a tree and a telephone pole. Yesterday a squirrel was chattering at something, clutched to the side of the tree. We're hardly settled in--lots of furniture and object-storing devices to procure--but it is beginning to get more organized. We spent most of yesterday downtown, actually, practicing at the school and having lunch with some friends. The school is beautiful. Practice rooms with huge windows and lovely views, this wonderful combination of old and new architecture, and even a collection of musical instruments! Including several old harpsichords/a clavichord/an organ... AND serpents! How about that? I wonder if anyone uses the harpsichords.

We still need dressers and wardrobes and bikes and so on, but maybe I'll be able to post some pictures later.

But for now: a bee in Bryce Canyon

Oh and a short anecdote about my first interaction with a Canadian: We had to get our proper visas when we crossed the border, so we parked and jumped out of the car to get it all done as quickly as possible. As we walked from the carport to the immigration building, a guard stopped us to check that we had all the necessary documents. He then added "Oh, and I'm going to have to warn you" (at this point I got a little nervous... do we look bad? are they going to search the car and will we have to unpack the whole thing?) "that your shoes are untied."

O Canada.