I grew up in a small town called Slave Lake. On the shores of Lesser Slave Lake, not Great Slave Lake, where by great fluke, I was born and spent my first five years. The point of the story is Edmonton was “the city”. It was a mythical, magical place. As any small towner could tell you going into “the city” was reason enough to skip school for the day. Hell, sometimes it was reason enough to skip several school days, and no teacher questioned it.
And now I live in Lethbridge. It’s a much bigger city when compared to Slave Lake, which didn’t get a traffic light until I was in grade 10. The traffic light made the front page. But it was a weekly paper, so it made the front page 8 days after the traffic light had actually gone up. Another triumph in investigative journalism, let me tell you. And “the city” is now Calgary, not Edmonton, and it’s only two hours away not three.
We are not going into “the city” today. In the way small towns work, a friend of a friend is going and therefore will be bringing my laptop back. Best Buy says it’s fixed. Again. God help them if it isn’t.
This post has been brought to you by two hours sleep. For the third night in a row. The selkie story will now be set in Victoria. I love Victoria. And there will be loads of ghosts. I love ghosts. I still hate Best Buy.