The Last Supper (S)

Yes, it is plural. That's how much I'm loved :) But unlike Jesus' last supper, they didn't write some silly book called "The Da Vinci Code" about me. . . or was it the Bible? Hmmmm. . . Anyway, we had a grand ol' time at the pub (no, not a bar, a restaurant)on Sunday night. There was circus acts (as seen in Exhibit A), good food and a room full of people just for me. 35 of them to be exact :)

Exhibit A (Amy and Dylan)

On Friday night I had an old fart farewell tea (no, we didn't just drink a cup of tea while politely chating about the weather and holding cucumber sandwiches with our pinkies pointed in queer directions. . .we had dinner). The kind where I had to cut up all their food into tiny pieces so that they could manage to chew it and help them to their chairs, making sure they didn't fall. . .the joys of living with host parents in their fifty's. You can hear their bones creaking from a kilometer away and you can see the shine of their bald spots from across the room. I feel for ya Andrew :P

Here we have (L to R) Steve (We can see your face this time! And what a sight that is. . .) and Lisa, Andrew and Karen (hosties) and Don and Jenny

And just and FYI, I'm blogging as much as possible between now any my return to the States because I plan on doing one post after I get back, just as a reflection kind of thing, then I'm packing it up, I'm callin it quits and I'm making a book out of it. It'll be a strange thing to not 'Blog' about my life. For once I might have some privacy, I'll no longer have to share my every move with the likes of you. . .yeah, I'll miss it too. Surprisingly enough, I've grown rather fond of being stalked over the net by large groups of people. . .