Tonight, I'm sitting in a room outside the laundrOmat at the RV park in Fort Nelson, BC. Surrounded by a jumble of odd chairs, tables and old carriage seats, and four unconnected washing machines—too dirty to rest my computer on while searching for that elusive wireless signal—and this desk, where I've finally angled myself into receiving full strength.

The last time I blogged, I was standing outside, hooked up to a pay phone, dialing in on an 800 number, conversing with two very nice gentlemen—one a saavy mac user from Paris, the other his friend from Manitoba. Then there was the conversation I couldn't help but overhear from the man who saw a diesel "pusher" (diesel motorhome with rear engine) and the car it was towing burn to the ground in twenty minutes. When he left the phone I had to ask for details. Which is to say that what I am writing sometimes requires editing beyond the usual, whether I anguished over it for hours and copied it into my blog, or composed extemporaneously. Like now. So I've gone back to my sourdough entry and revised. No matter. I humbly thank those of you who have read thus far.

Although I will rejoin my companions, both human and doggie, it is my ambition and intention in the hopefully speedy wireless future, to return and deep within this blog, change the spelling of laundramat to laundr o mat. I bid you goodnight on this cool Canadian evening. And Peter Jennings: thank you, and rest in peace.