curative properties

Easter weekend at home was a much needed breath of fresh, country air.

Dinner at Grandma's passed with minimal drama, minus the creepy man watching us eat from behind a tree (while clutching a Tim Horton's cup). "Oh don't worry, that's just Huey," I was assured. Right, the fact that this sketchy character is a regular fixture on the lawn should totally assuage my worries. Eeek.

My stress level dropped steadily as we drove further away from the city (Montreal, and then Toronto). I took some deep breaths, cut off a bunch of my hair, ate some great meals, and got a few decent nights' sleep. Funny how I don't seem to be able to do those simple things in the city.