3000 metres in the fast lane.

Consecutively. And I had more in me, but water polo players were leaping in, the ropes were pulled.

This is my pool. Peter Hemingway. An architectural delight and just a 12 minute drive from home.

I have never swam this far in one session. It becomes like flying, that sensation of having no responsibilities. Long distance swimming is so much easier than so many other things, and far easier than thinking \ feeling.
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Last night I needed distraction, and found it in back-to-back movies: one a quiet little Canadian film, "Take this Waltz,"written and directed by Sarah Polley; the other "The Iron Lady," starring Meryl Streep.

The Polley film was brilliant. I could watch this 6 times, 10 times, and never grow weary of it, mostly because of the steamy -- and highly credible -- chemistry between Michelle Williams (bravo) and Luke Kirby, but also because Polley isn't afraid to make characters speak and act like real people do -- often most unusually -- and Michelle Williams was a perfect fit for the lead, Margo. There are laugh outloud moments in this film (ie: when Margo's laughing so hard during a ridiculous water exercise class, she pees in the pool ... the water turns colour, the flamboyant fitness instructor squeals that the pool's been fouled, orders everyone out, and the man (a neighbour who drives a tourist rickshaw in Toronto) who is obsessed with her sees the whole thing. There are sexy moments (easily relatable to moments in one's own life, when one wants so badly to kiss or touch someone, the feeling is mutual, and both parties resist and resist and resist ...). The music was superb, and fine attention was played to colour (ie: segues from turquoise to turquoise.) I appreciated the lead character's quirky wardrobe: was a fine example of thrift store fashions. The last quarter of the film became a bit too self-conscious and fast-tracked (and the menage a trois x 2 were silly), but all in all, I highly recommend this one.

"The Iron Lady," on the other hand, was pure shite. From the ridiculous caked on make-up to the inane script and "framing" of the story through Margaret Thatcher's delusional conversations with her dead husband. We finally had to turn this one off.

Go Canada! Hollywood, for shame.
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I am planning a European vacation for 2013. As it stands now, we may be doing a house and car swap with a couple in the Alsace region of France, very near the Swiss city of Basel, and also ideally near the German border. This will be our base for exploring France, Germany, etc. I am hardly excited. ;)
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Finally, huge congratulations to my daughter, Taylor Leedahl, on the launch of her new poetry book, Hybrid Hibiscus, with Jackpine Press. Taylor launched in Saskatoon over the weekend, and a friend (who knows how paralyzing it was for me to miss it) told me she was utterly phenomenal.