Sunday, November 11

It is Father’s Day. I got a big box of socks and several small boxes of cosmetics. It is one of those holidays where the shops are shut and Irma’s parents come for a meal.

Irma prepared an oven salmon, which is one of my favourite foods, and now we are all full.

There is no cream for Irma’s father’s coffee and so I have been to the gas station to fail to purchase some. I am walking back and all the flags are out to indicate a public holiday.

We will have milk with our coffee.