You know, you go away for a while and you start thinking maybe this city isn't as weird as you've built it up to be.
And then you come home and first discover that your church's landlords are kicking you guys out in favour of another church group that is offering way more money. The crazy thing is that the building you've been renting belongs now to a yoga business, and so, when you're trying to explain the situation to people, you realise that the story boils down to money-minded yogis playing two groups of elderly church ladies off of each other, and that the cast of characters is just so very Victoria. Because do we have any residents other than yoga practitioners and elderly church ladies? I guess we have homeless people as well.*
And then, in the same day, you realise that in the time that you were gone, your neighbours acquired Illegal Chickens. As in: they now own chickens, which violates your municipality's bylaws because their lot is too small, but that's the cause of a big fight right now anyway, because every other municipality in this area allow chickens more freely, a fight that reached the point that people brought chickens to a city council meeting last winter. And so there's a good chance that these are Civil Disobedience Chickens.
Yogis, elderly church ladies and Civil Disobedience Chickens (not to mention rabbits that cause court battles): this is my life in Victoria, and it constantly amuses me.
* On a serious note, our little church is looking for a new home for the first time in 41 years. It's the end of an era. We're racing around trying to find a suitable spot by the end of the month, or else we'll be meeting in members' homes. On the positive side, we're taking this as an opportunity to find a more suitable home for the church, one that is more accessible for our elderly members (where they don't have to navigate steep steps to get to the bathroom), and where Chris and I don't have to clean up gross messes after community dances and battles of the bands.