R.I.P.

Wow, it's been a tough week in the CanLit community. First the death of the legendary P.K. Page, who lived a long and prosperous life. And today, the passing of Paul Quarrington. While I discovered P.K. Page much later in my own life - although I quickly recognized her incredible talent - Quarrington has long been a favourite writer. As I said to a colleague today, humour writing is often undervalued, yet Quarrington was a master of the form. My friend H. bought me King Leary way back in the early 1990s, and it's a safe bet that there will never be a better novel about hockey ever written. And I read Whale Music shortly thereafter, and devoured it. I never got the chance to meet the man, but I'll still miss him.

Not much else to report. Was out with one of my dearest friends this evening, someone I've known since high school. There aren't many of those still kicking around! But it was great fun. She admitted that she's not in a good place right now, but we still laughed like mad. "It's because I like you so much," she said about her cheerful disposition, which made me feel all a-flutter. Long-time friends truly are irreplaceable.