Ah life is good. For starters, I like road trips: I'm just wired that way. As the miles go by I get into a meditative state in which I take stock of my life, pray, whatever. (It's an introvert thing.)

We left T.O. (that's Toronto, Ontario for those who don't know) around 2:00 p.m. Friday and, after a sluggish start, soon were gliding unhindered through curvy, autumn-colored hills followed by mile after mile of flat farmland. Until we approached the U.S. border at Port Huron, Michigan, that is. There we had to creep slowly over the bridge spanning the Detroit River (with the blue expanse of Lake Huron stretching to our right) behind a long line-up approaching U.S. Customs.

Finally we got over and, revving our rented Pontiac Pursuit, motored overland the rest of the way to Grand Rapids. That's where the big wedding was to take place the next morning.

Weekends like the one just past remind me of much of what's good and blessed about my life. It also reminded me of why so much of our weird, often-isolated North American existence just ain't right. After hanging out with my good sons and their Significant Others as well as the best bunch of in-laws one could ask for, I felt nourished, buoyed, and refreshed. It made me wish life could just carry on and on in the same communal manner. (Shades of The Waltons?) A lot of immigrant families to Canada understand this and have a richness in their lives that we too often miss. (Some might say it can be a mixed blessing, of course...)

Well that's all for now, and it's off to work for me.