Eight Years in Yukon

This week I celebrate my eighth full year in the territory. Eight is not a terribly round number, but if humans had evolved without thumbs it would've been: fractional arithmetic on computers would be a little less surprising, prices would all end in 7, and Rudy Giuliani would be the Mayor of 11/13.

To mark the occasion, I've posted the e-mail dispatches I sent along the road that took me here in a new section of the site called What He Wrote. I took the long way, coming north from Toronto via Halifax. Coincidentally, it took me eight weeks to make the trip, and upon arriving, my car had eight tires. Spooky.

You'd have to be a real What He Said fan (Hi Mom!) to slog through all of it, but at least it's now preserved for posterity. Yes, this rickety old Celeron server should outlive me and my descendants.

I hope to continue adding to the What He Wrote section; perhaps including some of my works that contain the more traditional narrative elements like a beginning and an end.

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