Ah, the old hometown -- what a great trip. There was some quality time with the family, some good times with old friends, some future plans discussed, and 300 was every bit as good as I had hoped. The weekend wasn't without surprises, either -- I've never seen an Irish dancing troupe interrupted mid-act by a marching piper band. Actually, I did see that once at Buffalo Days, but this was the first time that half the piper band was too drunk to wear shirts.
The truly memorable experience, though, was upon my return to The Vat. One of my co-workers has a fondness for microbreweries, so I agreed to pick up some samples from the finest brewery in Regina (oh, why not; here's the link). The total came to fifty dollars even, and I ran my cargo across the border, delivering it to his house earlier this evening. We exchanged pleasantries and cargo in that order, and he then started searching for his chequebook. Instead, he found a stack of coloured cards; his son had celebrated his first birthday, and distant relatives had sent their envelope-sized presents in the mail. Assuring me that he'd balance the books between him and his son, he withdrew the proper bill from the grandparent's card, and presented it to me.
In other words, I took fifty dollars from a baby.
I think I'm going to get that printed up on a T-shirt.