We had a tough skate around the Sea Wall today. The wind was fierce of the ocean and M & I fought over who would play wind-break. I love the clouds over Vancouver, moody and delicate, looming and variegated. The gusts had the added benefit of keeling the re-opened post-re-construction route relatively free of pedestrians (most Sundays, it's a slalom course).

I'm at a low ebb on students and instead of using the time for my writing I spend it fretting over not having enough students. I've been able to channel that fret for the most part: I have my fliers posted all over the city. It's hard to keep up the numbers in summer. People seem more interested in recreation. Meh, go figure.

Most of the work has been online, essays and such, so at least I can keep us in groceries. Looks like B-day money might go to rent (thank the folks for having me at the end of spring--that's foresight for ya').

Westender published the letter. The Sunday Province had a single photo on page A5 of the BareBuns bike ride, no story. With all the cameras we passed, we're bound to turn up somewhere.

Saw the latest Riddick. Fun stuff. It reminded me of the first time I saw Flash Gordon (only the visual effects were a billion times more stunning). It might have been the name of the evil race-- Necromongers--or the conspiratorial femme fatale that gave it a similar level of camp. Either way, we were really glad we saw it in the theatre. It makes me wonder how anyone could have ever thought of Rambo as a bad-ass. Riddick out bad-assed him by light years in attitude and action.