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It’s been just shy of a month since I last posted.  Since then I’ve moved to the 43rd floor (with an insane view of the bay, both rivers, the Staten Island Ferry, three bridges and the Statue of Liberty), settled in joyfully with M, shot with two new clients (logging about thirty hours in the steadicam rig), visited Governors Island and Staten Island, and taken giant leaps forward with the site design for CB.com and with development for a dare-I-say revolutionary productivity platform for the iPhone.  Oh, and I saw my first proper Broadway show.  Fuel has hired two new guns bringing the official family to six and noticeably lowering the production barometer – in the nick of time.  Fuel is by all measures a runaway success, and we are trying to place each foot carefully as we blast ahead, with top-shelf help from some of the best business trainers in the world.

Nope.  No time for posting to the ol’ blog.

In other news, we are counting down to the retirement of my Facebook profile.  On October 20 I will join many others in abandoning Facebook in disgust for repeated flagrant violations of their own vaporous privacy policy.  I eagerly look forward to the public launch of Diaspora.  And, failing that, you know where to find me, right?

Gotta go.  It’s Canadian Thanksgiving at chez Baran!

Taylor Fladgate Tawny Port. 30 years in a wood cask. Worth every second. Worth every penny.

In other, even better news, Marjorie landed last night. So far so perfect.

The pics from the sailing adventure to Gabriola have been up at Flickr for a while, but then there was a major blog overhaul and I didn’t get around to posting them here.  And part of that overhaul is pulling the Flickr feed functionality (at least for now).  So I’m not sure what I will do with my Flickr account, frankly… I’m shortly ditching Facebook (so very tired of the privacy abuses) and this blog has been my home on the web since ’02 (or check out the earliest view on the Wayback Machine – wow) , so it makes sense to keep stuff gathered here as much as possible.

So anyway, Gabriola Island: just across the Strait of Georgia from Bowen Island and Horseshoe Bay.  This was my first time sailing since the nineties, and while we didn’t drift over a pod of killer whales this time (awesome humbling experience) it was still thrilling and pure balm to the soul.  I tried to be helpful though I’m sure I could have been a better student for Marjorie.  David said I could come back anytime.  I reckon that’s an endorsement if ever there was one.

Maybe more of the story later, like the kayaking or the seals or the sailing at 45 degrees, or more about those amazing and mysterious rocks.  But for now, and without further such and such, the pictures.