a day late, a buck short?

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie.

From scratch. Pastry & all.

I feel so wholesome that I'm compelled to go out dancing in trashy bars with drunk doctors.

summer fun

When you have warm summer evenings, the smell of jasmine coming through the window and humidity-curled hair brushing at the nape of your neck, you know you're on vacation.

To fill your empty hours (and cos the strawberries are rotting in the box) you can make pie.















Of course, when you have the attention span of a five year old on red cordial, you may only make the pastry and the filling, then get distracted.

You will go across the street and steal DVDs from Ian. Come back and admire your toenails. Google "rhubarb poisoning" and think about the legal definition of "criminal intent". Stew the rest of the rhubarb. Realize that you only have enough pastry for a bottom crust. Realize that you've run out of flour. Give up, google Dashboard Confessional and listen to summer songs.



Toronto in summer is awesome. I'll never work here; there's too much else to do!
I'll finish the pie tomorrow.

summer fling!

I don't know what to tell you...

I've finished the PRP. (Pre-residency program, aka "teach Sam to speak Canadian"). I have a small, perfectly formed apartment. My hospital feels like home. I've met my bosses. I am excited to be a family doctor. I have new friends. I've found the good coffee spot and shamelessly hit on the proprietor.

It's been a busy 3 months. Aside from getting peed on by multiple infants, I have no recent medical stories. July first will be my first day as a (legal) Canadian doctor.

I'm going to lie in the sun listening to summer pop until then. Join me!