It's a beautiful day, sun is shining, high temp's to be 20C (68F). (See how obsessed I've gotten about weather?)

I'm waiting to hear back from the fitness store manager. He's contacting the service provider himself to see if he can rouse them into action. Said he'd call back in two minutes. Yah, right. (My prediction: He will get their voice mail, swear into their messages, etc., then call me back apologetically.)

What else? With all the rain, the grass, dandelions and other weeds have arisen with a shout, sprouting skyward. I'll give it another day, then, once again, with grunts and oomphs, be attacking that little patch of green (doesn't seem so little with our cardiac-inducing mower, however).

Just heard from the aforementioned store manager and, well, I may have been a mite pessimistic. Turns out they left us a message yesterday, but it was on a certain cell phone, the messages of which we do not check very often. So (heh heh) maybe service in Calgary is not quite as atrocious as I'd thought.