…we were driving during the earthquake, and sailing along on the glass-smooth surface of Rt. 401, felt nothing.
(Tell me, someone: How does a nation modeled on European socialism manage to get so many things right? Five hundred miles of 401, and there was nary a pothole. Plus, I hear that if we’d fallen and scraped a knee, the bandage would be free! Wonders upon wonders!)
Anyway, our waitress at lunch reported her mother felt it in bed and her friend felt it “on the toilet.” A radio station described massive traffic jams in Ottawa, so there may have been some road damage there.
Anyway, having a lovely time, just checking e-mail. Montreal is beautiful, and everyone is speaking French. Except when they’re speaking German. (Tourist season.)
So let’s reset the comments, and bring ’em up here.