The mountains are now snow-capped. It must have happened sometime over the past ten days, while I was cavorting with chums in Vancouver and Seattle. It was a splendid trip, even if ten days living out of a suitcase is a bit taxing.
I think I am now officially a true Calgarian, though. Because when we disembarked from the plane and those frosted doors slid open to reveal a group of smiling retirees in red vests and white hats, there to helpfully point the way to customs, I have to admit, I got a little verklempt. More than jet lag and a longing for my own bed could account for.
This really is my city. It's a good thing I feel this way because I didn't leave myself any time to decompress before attending the Calgary Foundation's Vital City Report today. Not only is my laundry not even done, my suitcase is still in the family room, half unpacked. This behaviour coming from someone who is normally unpacked and has everything in its right place less than an hour after returning home. But if I don't work, I don't get paid. Besides, the mayor was speaking and you don't want to miss that.
Over the next few days, in amongst work shifts and assignments, I'll be sharing some memories of the Great West Coast Turkeyless Odyssey 2.0 / Communiqu3 with you. Everything from Frightened Rabbit concerts to gum walls, Justin Timberlake marionettes to record store pilgrimages, and everything in between. And yes, there will be pictures.