I was in the Epicure deli on Parliament Street this afternoon when David, a neighbour I don’t see very often, came in. “So you’re going to Prague,” he said. It’s the oddest thing to have your life be common knowledge. I know, I’m the one broadcasting, it’s not as if this is being done to me. It’s just odd. Today my son was over, and I mentioned that I’d blogged about his terrible experience last year, when his friend died. “I’d like to read that,” he said, so I found it for him. My children avoid my blog at all costs – yet more maternal blathering. He liked what was there about Devon, about his own grief. My kids too, friends and neighbours, all living out loud here along with me.