Today will be busy, as we zoom down to Vancouver International Airport and pick up my wife’s son Denis, his wife Natasha, and eight year old daughter Anastasia, coming to Canada for their very first time, from St. Petersburg, Russia.
It’s gonna be great. We’ll be doing this and that, and going here and there, and I’ll let you know as things unfold. I think I’m taking them to a hockey game, and that’s good, even if I do have to see those annoying Canucks. Some cool road trips have also been planned.
This is a great family, and although they don’t speak much English, it’s never seemed to matter. I’ve known Denis since he was thirteen, he’s a creative guy, loves hockey, and raved about Alexei Emelin before Emelin joined the Canadiens.
Natasha got straight A’s all the way through university. Imagine. I don’t know Natasha as well as Denis. She’s very shy, but I think she’s been studying English lately and maybe we can connect. She’s got a great smile.
My wife is having anxiety attacks. This trip has been in the works for about a year, the Canadian embassy put them through every hoop imaginable, but they persevered, got their visas, and I apologized to them for the nonsense from the Canadian government,