Time Warp

Well, I've had quite the day! It started off a 6am, with a plan to head to my grandparents' place only a few days in the making. Travelling any extent in the winter is fun, let alone over a highway that reaches 1244 metres (4147 ft) at its summit.
After some worrying, and Robyn deciding she had a bad feeling about it and wouldn't feel right joining me, I checked the webcams set up at the toll booth and decided to chance it at 8am. The weather was fine - even sunny at times - and the roads, if not bare, were at least well-groomed. (Oddly enough, this makes me think they had trimmed mustaches.)
As I got down the mountain and more into the vicinity of Hope, it seemed like I'd done a bit of travelling back in time. There weren't snowdrifts on the ground, but leaves. Whole branches and limbs, too, due to the remnants of a tropical storm that hit the lower mainland recently. I didn't quite make the 12:45 ferry as I'd hoped (Unsurprising, given my departure time was an hour and a half later than actually planned. Being five minutes too late to catch the ferry was rather insignificant.) (MORE BRACKETS!)(This does not mean that I drove too fast, Mum, just that the conditions were better than expected.) I stopped at Quizno's for lunch, and perfected my oft-practiced art of eating alone - bring a book, and smile at the cute kids. I got to the next sailing plenty early, and read and walked the deck for the two hour ferry ride.
Once I got to The Island (I love B.C., and how we act as though we have the only island in the world. Or that Vancouver Island is the only island in British Columbia, for that matter.) the season incongruence became even more evident. Everything here is amazingly green and lush - and the car's temperature guage never dipped below zero. I didn't get the least bit lost (which is only slightly unusual) and arrived at "The Gs'" just in time for dinner at 6:30.
The time warp became the most rapid and evident during our pre-dinner chatter. Checking in on the progress of my recording, Grampy asked, "So how are things coming along on your LP? Or is it CD-Rom now?" I replied, trying (completely unsuccessfully to restrain my laughter) "It's just CD, Grampy, and it's doing alright. We've got the music for four songs, and now I have to do the fill and vocals for those four. Then I need to looking into selling my piano to finance the rest."
Grampy: "So four songs won't really be enough for a marketable product?" (<-note the intelligent dialogue. My Grampy is a very smart man; he just got a little stuck.)
Me: "No, Grampy, four songs won't quite do it."
Him: "Oh, I guess you need something for the other side."
Me: "Side?" *Confusion. Prompty followed by hysterical laughter.*
I adore my grandparents. But I'm pretty sure I just travelled back in time. And I'm also quite sure I need to forward this story to the sound engineer/studio owner. I think he just might appreciate it.
More adventures to come, I'm sure.