A lovely, too-short weekend with my sister. We hadn't seen each other since New Years. Seems like we never see each other enough, even though we talk all the time. Somehow we scheduled it so that we had lots of time to ourselves.

I asked my sister if she remembered the bedroom we used to share, at the old house, when she was 2 and I was 5. She remembered the backyard and the family room but not our bedroom. I remember clearly what it was to have my baby sister just two feet away in her own bed.

And there we were, all grown up. We went shopping for her trip, played cards, drank wine. The usual. We made great meals, effortlessly. There's nothing easier than cooking with my sister. We have years of practice in the kitchen.

Sunday night, I gave her a hug (and another and another). Good luck with your new life, we said to each other. Be careful in Central Asia, I said. Maybe we'll meet in Istanbul? Good luck with the helicopter. Be careful. Be safe. Good bye. See you soon.

Then I got in the car and BT drove me to my new apartment. Hello Montreal. I'm on the 4th floor. My desk looks out into a canopy of trees.

Be careful. Be safe. Good bye. See you soon.

11:06 a.m. - 2012-06-18