So here is a story about the very first day of our honeymoon.

Bree and I enjoyed a very entertaining ride to Abbotsford courtesy of friends Nathan and Kristina (engaged and lovin’ it) where we got on our first plane on a trip that would find us in Lisbon. Abotsford Calgary London Lisboa: that was the plan.

Moments after we had reached cruising altitude, the airline pilots made an announcement “We have recieved a report that the Newly-weds Briana and Will are on board this afternoon enroute to their honeymoon destination in Lisbon.” or somethig to that effect. The flight attendant brought us wine (on a little commuter jet, that didn’t even have peanuts of pretzles, that is a bigger deal) and we tinkled our glasses over the Okanagan as a celebration of our new life together, at 20,000 feet. Every one clapped and cooed. It was awesome.

But who is responsible? Mom (Leah) who was there at the airport? Aunt Marlin and Ralph? The “most helpfull Air Canada employee I think I will ever meet” guy at the front desk at the airport?

It could have been any of these but I have a hunch that it was none. I have a hunch that my cousin John, an air traffic controller in Edmonton radioed the flight crew to tell them the news. So fess up whoever you are, and, thanks. That was nice.

This is a shout out to the Gilli-ific one. With out her and her ilk, we would be stuck with robotic cats like the children in Japan. Poor children.

-shudder- Here is to real cats! To real cats everywhere!

My baby is super bopping to the Supernova of mascara clad uber-emos and wil-o-the-waifs on Next Top Model.

What is a real life boy to do?

I am reaching here. I love my bopper and when she ‘reals out’ on the tivo, I’m right there with her. I vote you on my island baby.

If you look at the top of this page, you may find pleasing to the eye a pair of planes. These Harbour Air seaplanes were photographed by talented Briana and she very graciously applied them to the front bumper of this web-log.

At that time she and I lived not three blocks from where these planes and others of their ilk could be seen idling at all hours of the day and night, should one care to see them. They would fly in from parts unknown (or Nanaimo) and land in Coal Harbour and disgorge their folk onto the dock.

Once, the seaplane became engorged with the very photographer who took the above photos only to deposit her into the waiting arms of her fuzzy lover in Victoria last November. Ahh, la Bree en Rose. Romantique, c’est vrai?

Now however, we live no longer by the sea and all of its aircraft but rather on the roaring Fraser River, at the Quay, in New Westminster. It would be dishonest to continue associating myself with these high-flyers now that I’m a burb-blogger. I need a new photo, I need a make-over.

Papa needs a brand new bag!

But what? What image can hold the front line and convey all that is -me- and -New Westminster- and -the Fraser River-. Skytrain? No, too in-other-suburbs-as-well. The Tin Soldier at the Quay? No too, um , too irrelevant.

Give us a hint, guv?

Kurbanov "Time of Memories"

Originally uploaded by Will_Tom.

Here is a painting that reminds me of some one I know. I will leave it to her to figure it out and comment. Ohh… The mystery and suspense.

My pointy elbowed father (who paints with paintbrushes regardless of how long his eyebrows grow) gets very excited about things. It is perhaps possible that he only gets excited about being excited about things but I will leave that. It is enough to say that when I was growing up (I still am so says I), he would often say to me (in a way that let me know that his demeanour alone should change my ways and put me on the narrow path)that I should be excited about things. I should find something that really impressed me and embrace it and let my excitement for it rule my temperament. This excitement (with some other mysterious potion called ‘practice’) would lead to my happiness.

Well to a greater or lesser degree I did what I could considering the barriers to entry. Still I see what the old man is able to do with his excitement and I am glad for him. This painting is not by him. It is by Kurbanov and it was poached from a website sent to me by the geezer himself.

So, who do you think it is?

Had some friends over last night to revel in sweet doggitude.

As well as Briana and myself there were Gillian, Dave, Tristan, Nadia and Jason in attendance with Nathan, Kristina and Jocelyn sending regrets.

Pop cutlure was referenced, stories of past events were recounted. Drinks and food were consumed. Work was discussed, romances were explained and humorous remarks about sex or foolishness were enjoyed by all.

Particularly interesting were indepth discussions on database design and computing or alternatively myth, the spread of language groups in migtratory populations and Greek and Roman Heroic literature. With profound agreement, all agreed it was much cooler to be geeky than to actually be cool.

Special thanks is due to Tristan for bringing some wine to share and to Briana for gracing us all with her astounding beauty and charm. I for one could not stop staring at her.