Uncamera’d

Une notice bref à vous informer that I am still zombified from my travel to the other side of the world—although decreasingly so: I managed to wake up at 6:30 AM today without also having woken up at 5:30. The weakness of the unexpectedly North American coffee here (you mean I’m not in Lyon?) is not helpful. I’m zombified enough that spelling quebecquois as *quebecquois did not give me pause. (There, that’s addressed John C’s two comments.) I mean, oi is already pronounced /wa/ (or here, /wɛ/ ), so the <q> is still followed by a /w/ in -qois, right? No? No…

I’m also zombified enough that I’ve lost my camera. Unfortunately for you, not before I took 350 shots, and some of them will make it to this blog yet. Not quite sure how and why, but I think Vieux Montréal Rousse beer and a shallow jacket pocket were involved.

(Old Montreal Red doesn’t come in bottles apparently; it was on tap at the Holiday Inn bar. Rich and ale-y. Molson, OTOH, may be a national icon, but it was meh as lagers go.)

My journalistic imperative dictates that I purchase a new camera before I go to Toronto—indeed, before the weekend: I’ve got twins to shoot. Buying a camera in a city frequented by tourists is not, of course, the most cost-effective thing to do; but one suffers for one’s art. And so will you, gentle reader, so will you…