These are the times when I feel most comfortably happy. The nights when the warm glow of the lights keeps the autumn winds at bay, and the radio is tuned to Radio Canada's jazz while I sit with a cup of earl grey tea in the Ruby Room. I've spent the evening in the kitchen surrounded by ingredients, cutting boards, wooden spoons and spices. A big batch of spaghetti sauce will simmer on the stove for another few hours, from which welcoming and familiar smells seep and spread through the apartment.

I took the afternoon off and spent it here with M. I can't explain the discomfort and pain I feel when I see her soft eyes worry. But I came bearing gifts, including her favorite chocolate bar - milk chocolate with fruits and nuts - along with chips and a quick fast food fix. We ate in bed together as I listened to her describe the painful procedure she suffered through today. It is strange to write about this; on one hand, I feel as though we've nipped this in the bud and have concentrated on encouraging her with words of confidence, and on the other hand I have allowed myself a few secret, sickening moments of panic, where the mere thought of having to face something more serious makes me feel completely disoriented. But the consideration of dark possibilities is abstract and fuzzy in my brain. It is singlehandedly my worst fear, it is the unspoken thief that lurks around and who will one day rob one of us from the other; a fear so monumental, the kind that renders one nearly incapable of facing it - even in theory - without feeling some denial or confusion. But as I stop to take a deep breath (perhaps based on a combination of care, logic and denial) I know that I need to allow my common sense to take charge and have faith that we can handle and adjust to any change we might encounter, from which M will be healed and in better spirits.

I start my weekend stint as house-sitter and pet-sitter extraordinaire on Friday evening, when Adèle and Randy leave to jet-set in Mont Tremblant with friends for the weekend. I'll be charged with the care of two cats, namely Smooch and Mamma Sita, as well as Fender the German shorthaired pointer, so I think I'll be mostly homebound until Sunday afternoon. I'll probably do some baking, play a bit of piano and rent some movies, so if you're reading this and feel like joining me, please do. I can be reached via cellphone, as there is no land line there anymore: 325-2267. I've been invited to some 70's night at a club on Saturday night, but I'm not sure I'll be able to make it, what with the puppy to look after - so the presence of a friend over supper and a movie would be a delightful alternative.

I really must get a digital camera soon. Can someone keep reminding me of this? I keep forgetting that it's something I should really save up for, until every time I feel annoyed at not being able to document my life with photos. Although I ended up walking away from the completion of my studies and a career in photography, it will always remain a fascinating interest for me. Manon and I discussed it in greater detail tonight, and it was vaguely decided that November is the time for a new camera. Finally, you may arrive to find new images to refresh your memory of the place, the thoughts and the girl from this blog, just in case you've forgotten, or just in case you might care.