No tengo el tesoro, sólo un sandiwch!

The Internet at my house is wonky and broke. So now when I think of random things to write about I tend to read instead. And the book I'm currently reading makes me think of MORE things to write. Then I fall asleep and forget them all.

I am a bit of a bum for local news and decided last week that I would hate to be the leader of the opposition. Basically her job is to complain about everything the government does. I don't like complaining, I feel guilty when I complain and my head fills with images of starving children or people suffering from incurable diseases. As leader of the opposition, one must never deliver compliments when a success has occurred - even if it is "the best" for citizens. One must find fault with all things. It would not be the job for me - or politics in general. It would be hard to dive into a career path that will lead people to believe you are corrupted, dishonourable, over-paid, under-qualified, and a plethora of other negative adjectives. People expect many public appearances, a perfect background, and that you are secretly a terrible person who likes to kill puppy dogs and set fire to orphanages.

The book I'm reading is a fictional tale about the first king of Canada: King John of Canada (link to Google book if you feel you must read a few pages). I don't really like the narrative style of the book, but perhaps something happens in the end that pieces that together and indirectly hints at why the author chose that style. However, I do like that the book makes me think about the history of Canada, what we've accepted as our norm, and what is accepted because, well, "that's how it is." I suppose books that make us think are good, but I don't feel I'll ever re-read it. I would recommend it selectively, but offer a warning with it. Also, the book has a rather strong anti-Quebecness about it, which I don't so much like.

In news I may have released before, I have recently developed a strong love for goat cheese. Merci, la France! I never really ate it prior to going to France last October. However, on every second street corner in the old town of Aix there was a panini and/or pizza stand/truck/hole-in-a-wall. Having a strong love of sandwiches - particularly TOASTED SANDWICHES, my heart was instantly stolen by the sandwich people after my Euros. On many such sandwiches was goat cheese. A mysterious brand of cheese that I had often heard of, but never tried. Being from PEI, I was well versed in ADL mozzarella and cheddar. In the pub world of the UK I snuck pieces of bree when making paninins for drunk customers. In the happy upscale magicalness of Disney I found myself enjoying the odd sprinkle of blue cheese. Other cheeses were randomly thrown into the mix through the last twenty-plus years (Parmesan, which I don't even know how to spell, swiss, marble, which is hardly worth a mention, and "american cheese"/ew) but the goat cheese still eluded me.

But, oh la France, the changes you have made to me! Not just in my verb conjugation skills, ability to properly composter mon billet, and accidentally rip off the public bus system, but in my appreciation of this delightful soft cheese. Initially I enjoyed only small quantities as it does have a strong taste that somewhat over powers the flimsiness of the accompanying mozza and tomate, but now I so love it. Toasted baguette avec tomate et fromage de chevre. Bien!