So after waking up on the mezzanine level of hell yesterday, I was enjoying a chat with my right hand man/former wrestler extraordinaire Frenchy (to use his old grapplin' handle) today, and he starts telling me about his day yesterday. About how he found his neighbour face down in the gravel and unresponsive, having had a stroke. About how it took the longest 20 minutes of his life for the emergency services to arrive because apparently yesterday was the busiest fire day in city history for as far back as anyone can remember or something like that.
So that wasn't a fun day for anyone.
Well tonight I'm supposed to be at a rehearsal for the theatre I'm involved in, but the door was locked and nobody was there when I pulled up a few minutes late. I kicked myself unnecessarily hard and assumed I had the wrong day. Just checked the e-mail announcing the next rehearsal. Nope.
Ah well, a lovely night for a drive with the radio being awesome with it's blues selection. Then it was terrible with a horrid screeching noise. Then the emergency broadcast system noted some highway closures and an evacuation notice because of a fire in some town. I didn't pay too much attention to the details. I was too suprised that I understood what I was hearing.
It was in English. All of it was in English. Only in English.
I was listening to the French Canadian Broadcasting Corporation station.
You can't even go to the park without being greeted with "Hello Bonjour!" in Canada, but evacuation notices don't have to be bilingual? They don't even have to be in the official language that the station they're being broadcast on broadcasts in?
Learn a second language today, folks. You really never know just how handy it might come in some day!
Meanwhile, my lovely Mackie heading out on one of our favourite trails (which has bilingual markers):
12 hours ago