  N.B. I spent the entire weekend with the Golden Boy. 4 days of his unrelenting company. I did not want to kill him, not even once. This is good. In fact, I think I love him even more now than I did on Thursday.
Which is hard, but I guess it's happened. Friday: out for overpriced dinner at "Miller's Tavern" at Yonge and York Mills. Saturday: drive down to Niagara and help the Golden Boy set up for dinner for 13. Rest of day/night a little wine riddled haze. Excellent times. Sunday: wake up late, read and clean up while Golden Boy mows enormous lawn.
Prep for another party - this time at a friend's house. By the time we arrive, most of the boys at the party are total train wrecks. One can hardly walk, and keeps falling down on the lawn. There is a fierce slip and slide competition going on, involving many small injuries and a great deal of cursing. We leave the party early, not standing a chance at catching up with the drunks. Play a game of "The Simpsons game of Life" and sleeps it is.
Monday: Back to Toronto to have dinner with Brother, a couple friends and Golden Boy. Go and see the Bourne Supremacy (quite good). Pudding (cat) is howling her head off for some reason, again. Tuck her under the covers and all is quiet. Sleep badly, strange dreams and now I have about 2 hours of driving to do, so that we can get some proposals signed. Ugh.
Update Two hours wasted as was pawned off on secretaries both times. Have spent entire morning driving around Toronto to no avail. 
