Doors offer access even as they block it. In my apartment-building doors are what keeps the world outside and firedoors what creates a notion of safety inside. You see the building had suffered a fire years ago and like London post 1666 the psychosis among the natives is palpable. I buy it, I understand it, but I also, as a Greek feel odd about it. Fire hazzard drills were non-existent in Greece where cement just makes us assume a posture of hubris; that is till the forest next to us burns... Meawhile in my own abode, the logistical possibility of hosting people has just been created as my couch-bed has arrrived making my space more friendly to visitors. And even as my place is ready to be lived-in, I have to abandon it in order to play tour-guide for 29 young Canadians. Good luck to me and to them.

A new day brings me closer to the departure, but also directly into a new kind of work and life arrangement as by now I am getting to test-live my new place. I have not used the bedroom yet but I am settled on my desk and dealing with the bureaucratic and research issues that constitute my life at this stage. It is not the brightest of days, which is an understatement for :it has been raining all day and I just saw a bit of light from the south east," yet it feels good listening to the Band and editing a future article. The new work area is pretty good and well positioned for Vancoveur's grey reality, just under the main living-room windows. More work to be had, not more procrastinating.