In which Mrs. Spit re-orders the week.

It's Sunday today.

No, really. It's second Sunday. Kind of like second breakfast, but without the first breakfast that you barfed up as a result of morning sickness, or, you know, hobbits.

Also, kind of like Sunday, but without church, or the Bishop's arrival, and also without sleeping through Sunday dinner. So, Sunday again. A do-over if you will.

Yep, it's Family Day(1) today.

Second Sunday.

No Monday Miscellany today, because, well, it's not Monday, now is it?

I have a post ruminating on individualism and the church, one on marriage, one on the always a bride, never a bridesmaid phenomenon, and maybe one on the ethics of neighbourliness, if Kuri and I can finish talking about it, and if she doesn't write it first. Oh, and the etiquette lady has requested a soap box for her column on Wednesday, all about dating. She's apparently not amused.

Have a great Second Sunday if you are in Y'Alberta, and a great monday if you are anywhere else. . . . (2)

Remember, go check out the TOBY AWARDS . . . . .

(1) Family Day. The made-up Alberta holiday, that office workers get, but no one who works in the trades, or works retail. Because none of them have families. Apparently. Thanks King Ralph.
(2) I can see that you are accusing me of being less than sympathetic about the whole you have to work and I don't thing. Possibly there was a small amount of nah-nah.