The whole family was invited to a party last night. Our Evite read 'It's that time of year again! It's time to nail cheeses to the cross. Cheeses welcomed. Hammer and nails provided.' And so they were, on the kitchen island, along with a wooden cross made of two-by-fours, all narrowly overseen by a tiny molded-plastic dashboard-style Jesus. Guests did their own hammering.
An evening of wine, women and whiskey ensued. (Some delightful men and children attended too, including my own, but they don't alliterate.) The whole thing was a blast and bordered on the sacrilegious--very much outside my experience, so far, of Canadian social gatherings. I loved it.
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