Saturday dawned foggy.

My plan for the day was to sit in front of a box with moving pictures until it told me to do something else. But other people had other plans. One of the people wanted to eat pepperoni pizza. Another one wanted to poke the catt with a pipe cleaner. The third wanted - nay, needed- TimBits, those sweet, merciful, morsels of melt-in-your-mouth Canadiana from the place where the coffee is crappy but you don't care - Tim Hortons.

We argued, but I was weak. I put on my shoes and grabbed my keys and my fleh. I only got half a handful of fleh, unfortunately. The rest is still in the fleh bucket, waiting for a better opportunity.

I wasn't allowed to drive, for fear that I would steer the car either north or south; directions that would not take us to a Tim Hortons. The best direction, of course, is East. A orange-bearded Ontario native would be our chauffeur. He could find the best route to the top Timmy's, having had extensive training. That's why they used to have grade 13 in Ontario. Best Route to a Timmy's training. They don't need a GPS. They just know.

He proved silent and steady of hand. Not a pothole did we hit, not a red light did we run.

But after half an hour, I became worried. I knew there was a Tim Hortons within a few minutes of our house. Why were we still driving?

I snapped as many pictures as I could. It would be our photo trail. If the Ontario Native abandoned us in a Tim Hortons,
how would we find our way home?

Oh, we passed many things, foreign things. We crossed the same river so many times I became dizzy. We passed 18 roads named Dewdney Trunk. I think I saw Gordon Campbell, fishing with Rafe Mair.

You know it's not a trip worth mentioning unless you go through Haney!

Just as I started to consider options for freeing myself hoisting myself out the sunroof or shouting "Tim Hortons is a lie!" repeatedly at last, relief! The inflatable coffee cup rose before us, glinting in the dewy sunlight, held to the restaurant roof with sturdy, Canadian know-how.

The driver had chosen well: everyone was flocking to this Timmy's. The young man in the stickered car had a stereo with many woofers. And flames painted on his doors. Illegal amounts of fleh!

This duck was actually in Langley, a month ago.
But look! A duck on the wall!

2 hours and who knows how many kilometres later: The Bits. 40 of them. Only $4.25. What a great country.

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