Living in Alabama is like living downtown. No, you haven't misread. I simply mean it in a different way. Alabama is the downtown of the South. It gives you access to everything. It's in proximity to all the Southern states. In proximity to all landscapes. You want to go skiing? How about Tennessee? You want the nicest beach? How about the Floridian panhandle? You miss skyscrappers? How about a day in Atlanta? You want it, you got it...if you are willing to drive. If you are willing to drive four hours, you may even find yourself eating beignets in the New Orleans French quarter before you know it. Alabama was a great strategic location. It gave us the chance to visit many of the surrounding states and cities...and islands (cruises to the Carribean right out of Mobile, AL.). Denmark will give us the same opportunity of course, but it is not as central.  It is in fact quite isolated and a lot of money and time is necessary to leave the Kingdom...but it's totally worth it.

When I first moved to Alabama, I remember thinking these people must have thought I was some kind of a star or something. They were all smiles, saying "hi" whenever they'd walk by me or even try to engage in conversations at cash registers. "How weird", I thought. You'd never see such things in Montreal. People keep their noses in their "business". People won't even acknowledge you and honestly, that is fine by everybody's standards. People look at their shoes in the subway, won't smile unless they know you perfectly well and certainly won't make small talk while scanning your items. We are reserved people. We don't open up to everyone. We are mysterious beings, or so I thought. After living in Alabama for a while, I realized that Montreal people are simply cold people. Not rude by any means, but cold for lack of a better knowledge. Being welcomed by warm and friendly strangers is so rare that it's uncomfortable and a situation you try to get out of. You keep on wondering what is up with these people. Is that guy trying to flirt with me? Do I know her? You just can't accept that people are simply being friendly.  In the South, they must have thought I was the weird one. I was so surprised when a simple neighbor would say "hi", I'd almost run in, blushing, walking like an olympic race walker, looking at the ground hoping nothing else would be said, my eyes still out of their orbits searching for something smart to say back. I guess kids are brought up to really not speak to strangers where I come from.  Nothing wrong with that when you don't know any better. I miss the South and its southern hospitality though. So does Ken. The South taught me how to be friendly and now I am back to cold people...because they don't know any better. It's now their turn to look at us thinking we are "overfriendly".  We'll try to change that...because everyone is much happier when people are friendlier.

He arrived by a windy winter night. He was skinny, tiny, but still a cutie. Although I wanted to feed him badly, I knew Ken was allergic to kitties.  Ken still insisted that we try on feeding him and so we did...for almost two years.  Pumpkin was the most charming cat ever. Throughout the months, the timid and skittish feral cat that he was metamorphosed into a proud, friendly and cuddly furball who could not wait for the next belly rub to come. This cat, although outside most of the time (how convenient considering Ken is allergic) brought so much happiness and laughs in our family. He was a presence, a loyal friend and a comforter. We shall never forget you Pumpky pie, nor your brother Fluffy who sadly disappeared a few months before our departure. We hope you are enjoying your new porch! :) Thank you Pam for taking care of PomPom, also known as Pumpky Pumpky and Bébé Pom.

As of January 2007, Pumpkin was still doing well and being fed by our generous neighbor, Pam.

---