Welcome to October, better known as Marc's birthday month. What? That's not what you call it? How strange.
Anyway. Write about: the quack.
Kat had a prenatal yoga class in Oliver again this week, so Max and I went with to drop her off. While she was there I took him to a nearby park, where we played until she was finished. Then we went for lunch and came back to Osoyoos.
Not a bad start to the day.
Back to harvesting and gathering produce tomorrow morning as I prepare for my final farmers market of 2015. I've been doing them by myself for the last couple of months and I'm quite, quite ready to be done.
Plus all the apples are already off the trees and we don't really have enough produce to justify attending any more markets. Not that I'm complaining at this point.
"I'm sorry, what did that quack tell you?"
"I wish you wouldn't call him that, dear."
"Well I'm certainly not going to call him a doctor!"
"You could at least show him a little bit of respect. He does have a degree, you know."
"I'm not sure that completing a psychology course at a community college qualifies him to dole out medical advice, mother."
"It was a little more than a single course, dear."
"So what? Two? Three? It doesn't matter!"
"It matters to me. You know that."
"Why? Why in the world would anyone listen to that quack?"
"I do wish you would show your father a little more respect, dear."