...but not just any Saturday. It's Hockey Day in Canada! I'm sure you're all in your pjs, cuddled up on the couch, sipping tea. This afternoon, as I was sitting there under my blanket, watching the Senators bash Montreal (8-3. Yikes! Souray scored a beauty though. I'm a big fan of Souray), I thought of the muse bash we'd talked about last year. March isn't far off.
After that blow-out, we cracked open Tracy's famous salsa. Can you see the smoke? I'm on fire! I've been burning for over an hour now. It's absolutely delicious. H is hogging the salsa though. He hasn't stopped eating.
Needless to say, Hockey Day in Canada calls for superdelicious food. For lunch we finished off H's fabulous Orzo with Calamari, a dish reserved for special occasions. For supper H made a glorious thin crust pizza with garlic, feta, olives and tomatoes. I'm stuffed.
We have two games yet to watch. Toronto vs. Vancouver. I'll be cheering for the Leafs as always. Unfortunately some of my favourite players are out with injuries, Darcy Tucker being one. His approach to hockey is much like my approach to writing poems. After that, we'll watch the Oilers take on the Flames. I like both teams, but have a soft spot for the Oilers, Ryan Smyth embodying my approach to poetry as well. However, as I've said before, it's the play of Mikka Kiprusoff, the goalie for the Flames, that represents perfectly the kind of writer I want to be. Just watch him. You'll see.