In a downtown Vancouver waiting room last week, I sat alone listening to two administrative clerks discuss their weekend plans. I couldn’t see who was talking, it was just a voice, and I heard her say that she was excited because she got to drive her husband down to the airport in Bellingham, Washington: he and a friend were flying down to Las Vegas for a boys only-weekend. She said she was stoked because there was an amazing Mexican restaurant down there. Not the food so much, but great margaritas. She said she intended to get her buzz on, see the boys off, then walk around Target for an hour—maybe Whole Foods—until she was sober enough to drive. Back across the border.
I presume she returned via the Peace Arch crossing of the US-Canada border. The inscription on the American side of the monument reads: "Children of a common mother". Unfortunately, the resemblance between the siblings does not seem to have been altered much by time.