You know who Charlie is like?
Who? I ask.
(I was definitely NOT expecting him to say that. In fact, I am sure Charlie is the most non-Axel Rose dog I know. He is most certainly Billy Joel or Bruno Mars).
Um...why Axel Rose?
His hair, says my love, it looks like Axel Rose's hair.
Ahhh...OK so it's not the drunken, drugged escapades and the wife-beating. That's good.
Have you seen Axel Rose lately, I ask, I think he's got braids now.
I mean they have the same colour hair.
And so went the absurd conversation in the kitchen of our home.
Never a dull moment.
It's been a whirlwind week that was filled with unlikely events - parachuting to earth, birthday celebrations, eating lunch in 25 degree weather in October, hearing about the tragic death of a wonderful lady barely 40 leaving behind two children and a distraught husband, attending a funeral of my sister in law's mother in Normandy, diving in the deep end of a new project, settling into a new spot and finally comparing dogs to ageing rock stars.
There were some wonderful moments. Bistro dinners with a chicken the size of Montreal with old friends in new cities. Excellent Japanese food and champagne with a dear friend for birthday celebrations. And a little note on a shirt of a girl that made me smile with its inspirational message for girls who pin their future on a guy, rather than their own sense of self, their own dreams and ambitions.
It was a quote by Monique Duval: He offered her the world. She said she had her own.
You go girl! I thought to myself as she sped by with her head high toward a life of possibilities.