Adieu, March--Eleven Days Later

And the ending just kept getting further away...

So I went from a New Year blog, to Midwinter, to Spring Equinox, to month-end—only with words this time. Critically, length has been my downfall and the more I read, the more striking the brevity of any given blog.  I always strive to achieve something more than the, I woke up, worked out, ate a salad, and bought lipstick and here are the photos to prove it (not that there’s anything wrong with that) kind of blog. The only problem is that I turn into Professor Tripp and Crabtree loses his job.

A lot has been written about how we’ve forgotten to read deeply as a result of social media and the very thing we’re doing here.  Forgetting how to read deeply because, in an age of instant gratification, if we can’t get what we want in the first few lines, we abandon a piece in favour of something new. (How do all these on line long-form pieces survive?) See Michael Harris’s I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO READ.

Side note on the ’s. My latest guru and soon-to-be-author, BC Dreyer, advocates for the following construction:

Harris’s I Have Forgotten How To Read versus the more conventional Harris’ I Have Forgotten How To Read.

Dreyer is also a proponent of only one space between sentences. That will take some getting used to.

I recently discovered Call Me Scotty by Andrea Scott, playwright and producer-extraordinaire emphasizing brevity, topicality, and frequency of posts.  Scott is presently located in Stratford, Ontario and her writing can be found at CALL ME SCOTTY.

Seven degree weather and confirmed sighting of the following

1.    daffodil and tulips shoots

2.    cardinal and partner foraging

3.    doves canoodling

4.    sparrows nest building

5.    red-wing call

6.    crocuses in bloom—thanks to a roving squirrel

7.    neighbour raking a frozen, frost covered front garden

8.    Desi’s Aluminum & Siding—for on-street parking began this weekend!

Yes, folks, there’s nothing like having a commercial pick-up truck parked on your front for the weekend. This is the man who emptied a weeks’ worth of recycling into my blue box—my empty blue box—and the remainder of his garbage into my—also empty—green bin.

Quick tour of the backyard to assess the degree of damage control, come May.  The doves had been at the old robin’s nest—had in fact savaged the nest—so they seem intent on squatting, again.  Doves, by nature are not an interesting species. I’d much rather have a dynamic robin tending its eggs and young.  Doves don’t move—at all.

We wait patiently for the daffodils.

The month began in storm-watch mode which turned out to be a non-starter and very disappointingly resulted in no day off.  The Peel District School Board must be loving it—immediate school closures;  Peel and parts of Halton Catholic who also seem to take no chances.  In my day—and no exaggeration—we walked on a sidewalk-free highway through several feet of snow, crossing five live lanes of traffic.

Key was the need to prove a certain boss wrong as he was convinced we were to see no storm. His Doppler works different to everyone else’s.We did have a corker of a thunderstorm, though.

Side not for said boss:  Employee Appreciation Day went unobserved, again. Having said that, I dislike having one day set aside for any acknowledgement of this kind—be it annual reviews or the approaching Admin Day; there cannot be just one day set aside to provide feedback.  Like the dreaded annual review, why wait a year to let people know how things are going.  Reviews are reviled; cheap and dreaded so that must be why corporations continue to conduct them.

Spring cleaning began in earnest; more to the point, pre-spring cleaning. As we know, I missed Winter ’16 and Spring ’17 deep cleaning due to pneumonia which was followed by flu this past Winter so things got a bit out of hand. We are fooling no one but ourselves if we think a 16-pocket purse will help keep us organized. It is merely 15 more pockets in which to lose stuff.

In between sneezes and lethargy, I finally caught up on the original Wallander series.  Loved the A-line skirts and dresses; the Swedes are obviously a sensible bunch. See also low ceilings.

After thirteen episodes of crime, I switched to Jarmusch’s Paterson which is entirely the wrong thing as, after Wallander, Ripper Street, and Homeland, the brain is conditioned to anticipate the next thing to go sideways and of course nothing does “happen” in Paterson—it’s a character study, not plot driven.  Appreciated the tv-free space of the Paterson bar.

Bracing for Season 4 of Ripper Street.  

Also revisited Trainspotting I and II.  Sadly, the original was the North American cut as the accent had been cleaned up for those across the pond.  I think the cult status could be maintained by leaving the scene as intended. Very happy with the second film as the characters are exactly where they should be: addiction, remorse, on the take, and jail.

Then, it was foreign film bonanza including Pawel Pavlikowski’s Ida. I’d quite forgotten about the nun by the time we got to the open window.  

Butter and sugared bread.

Out the open window.

Time to get back to books, in earnest.  First on the list is Roxane Gay’s collection of essays, Bad Feminist. This is a no BS approach to life and Gay can be counted on to tell it like it is.  

Sadly this book was purchased from Indigo—because I got a good deal—and last week we learned that Bryan Prince Booksellers closed its doors. They shall be missed at GritLit, this year. If you can’t make it when you’re a stone’s throw from a University, have incorporated author readings, open workspace, and are supported by and support an annual literary festival, what hope is there for other shops?  Epic Books on Locke seem to be in the black and may have taken some of the business off Prince. Several years ago, I bought two cookbooks from Epic but have never returned. Unfortunately, the last books I tried to order through Prince are all out print. (There are, however, used editions floating around on Indigo’s site.)  But books are bloody expensive; there are very few who can afford $35 for a hardback.

Controversy still swirling around Soulpepper and Animal Farm quickly divided the full house, beginning with the cast introducing themselves—not as their character but as the costumed actor.  The play was a commissioned piece and tossed aside the Russian influence in favour of Trump, Syria, and a lotto-playing horse, amongst other diversions. A 50/50 split and I find myself in full agreement with The Globe and THE STAR.

On the brighter side, Canadian Stage is offering a fabulous line up for Jocelyn's final year as Artistic Director. Looking forward to Lepage's Corialanus at Stratford, this year.

Sook-Yin Lee is back.

Easter--the next great exercise in food. Something for next year's treat table---The Stigmata Cookie. Too bad there's no consistency in a date for Easter holidays. And too bad we don't all get the Monday as statutory.

Easter presents yet another opportunity for cake and brunch. And why not indulge in a sausage or two followed by lashings of icing.  Cake was a tad boggy, this time around.

Further, to confirm that Spring is indeed upon us, despite the hail, sleet, and hanging gale, three groundkeepers fired up their leaf blowers in what can only be decribed as a great middle-finger to the rest of us.  A rake works wonders.

Looking forward to what the neighbours will do with the garden, this year.  Elements of Pet Cemetery at the moment.

Better get started on April, now. Brevity, brevity, brevity.

What elephant in the room?

Half way through a recent viewing of Lawrence of Arabia, thoughts turned to how best to deal with Toronto traffic. No prisoners! Rallying an Arab army may be easier than negotiating one’s way through the streets of Toronto.  Throw in a little Art of War and one is ready to take on a cab driver.  Oh, those sly U-turns, the mid-intersection halt, the five-lane cross to pick up a fare. I don’t fear for my life at the hands of a mugging, it’s the cabbies one has to look out for. Why there aren’t more pedestrian fatalities remains a mystery. Saturday’s schedule involved negotiating the streets surrounding The Distillery District, The Danforth, Sherbourne & Carlton, and Esplanade & Market—all swarming with cabs.

Great controversy swirled around this trip as it was to be the first show at Soulpepper since that “thing that happened that apparently patrons are quite over and are only too pleased to be moving on from”. And prior to this day, no one talked about it, the Women’s Marches, nor any other fallout. However, Soulpepper is still very much playing host to the elephant in the room. As you may know, Soulpepper Theatre Company recently went through a crisis of conscience when its artistic director, Albert Shultz, was asked to relinquish his duties in light of allegations brought forward by four courageous former Soulpepper actors and the details are available here:

ALLEGATIONS

RESIGNATION

From my informal survey, Saturday, no one seemed remotely interested in discussing the restructuring process. For obvious reasons, theatre companies and actors-at-large have shown full support for the women—as do I—but seem reluctant to put their weight behind Soulpepper’s restructuring unless the entire board of directors steps down. To add to the fire, controversy still swirls around former director, Lazlo Morton, and his eventual splitting of ties with Soulpepper due to inappropriate behaviour. Would anyone else like to step forward before they come for you?

Supporting the accusers and supporting the Company are not mutually exclusive. Still, quiet enthusiasm for the remaining January show—of which subscribers received no email or other informing us of Amadeus’s cancellation and that, indeed, the show will go on for A Delicate Balance.

First, praise for the smooth drive which is becoming a rare bird indeed. Six degrees on the plus side and a gentle breeze—almost tropical.  I pit stopped in the distillery for a quick walk into Tank.  Jillian produces glass works and I was on a mission for cuff links. At $2.50 per half hour, clock watching is key. Crews were setting up for the Lite Festival and with two hours till opening, didn’t look anywhere near ready.  Needless to say I did not anticipate the 19:00 crowds. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Took a restorative trip to Allan Gardens which was jammed with visitors and their selfie-sticks.  And $1.25 per half hour so practically a bargain compared to the Distillery. The heady whiff of soon-to-be-legalized cannabis emanating from the adjacent parking lot. Just north of Moss Park (itself mired controversy), the Gardens is an oasis in an otherwise rougher neighbourhood.  The Xmas displays were fading but the amaryllis were still going strong. Chatted to staff about Kalanchoe which I have never been able to have bloom a second time.  Theirs looks good despite the gardens not employing any particular tactics vis a vis water and light. Luck of the draw, I guess.

Since I missed Women's March II, Saturday, sending pink camelias to those who are organized enough to get themselves into downtown Toronto to take part. There in spirit.

Since we are not a month out of Xmas, the plan was black coffee for supper so went with The Magic Oven’s Lamb wrap proving that one should only order a menu item once.  Not that the wrap lacked for anything, but the perfection of that first order remains with me:  a soft, warm, granular wrap perfectly packed with a generous portion of seasoned lamb, onion, and arugula, graced with hot, crispy fries. While tasty, this second wrap was under-filled, leaking precious seasoning, and the wrap had been warmed to the point of crisp. By its very nature, wraps should completely surround the contents, securing one's clothes from greasy runoff.  The Oven does produce excellent dishes, the pizzas look fantastic, and there is a brisk take-out trade. And it’s conveniently located next to Coal Mine Theatre with whom they partner.

The Danforth is a 40kmph and all nations are represented. Must try Gerrard Pizza and the Ethiopian restaurants sometime.

The bulk of rush hour over, Parliament was flowing. (But pity those cyclists negotiating traffic; those painted green spaces are not for cars, people.) Then came the cabbies—an undisciplined force. Why have we come to a stop in the middle of an intersection? Cab driver has stopped. An eventual left turn, followed by a U-turn, the pain of having to stop at a green light while two pedestrians strolled across the intersection, a break for the bus stop, and the fare was picked up. Avoid all cross town streets—particularly Bloor, College, Dundas, Queen, King—(no driving beyond distances of one block, anyway), and Front.  Better yet, take transit; but do please keep your nail clippers at home.

No time to capture the fire-breathing portion of the show but it was impressive. 

The LITE FEST continues into March.

HEAVY META

From a thinking driver, I fast turned into a sheep, desperately trying to find a parking space in the Distillery district.  Why I didn’t go with my usual spot, twenty-five minutes’ walk away, I don't know. Distillery management puts on festivals—Bavarian Xmas Fayres and tonight’s Lite Fest—and the place swarms with people there’s no capacity for.  And was that another condo tower going in on the South side? With all the snow-clearing equipment and Festival cube vans, many of the parking space were occupied.  I struck on the bold idea to park in the vacant Mon-Fri/9-5 Soulpepper spaces, I’d pay of course but needed the go ahead.  I couldn’t rationalize with the box office so a mad sprint from George Brown underground ensued. We don’t clean sidewalks in this country, we dump vast quantities of salt on the pavement and hope for the best. Hence, every three feet, one has to stop and empty one’s shoes of debris.

Seated with a few minutes to spare, the workout left me with a tickle at the throat and with the herbal cigarettes throughout the performance, I joined the chorus of coughers—two of whom left to tend to their lungs. I too had visions of watching the first act through the lobby monitor.  Brief chat with person to my right who acknowledged the possibility of a sombre atmosphere—there was a call for boycott—and person to my left who noted the Credits section of the program had been revamped to reflect the acting Artistic Director, Alan Dilworth. Other than that, most people had their noses buried in their phones and were content to merely stare at their apps making tough choices about what can stay and what can go.

All told, great show with fine performances from everyone—should go without saying as this is not their first crack at the boards.  This was a much talked about pre-production and some comments failed to recognize that the play didn’t just go into rehearsals, January 4. Ms. Leblanc would direct with great sensitivity regardless of the present climate. 

Developed such a thirst, as everything from cognac to martinis to vodka is consumed over three hours that a G & T was in order. One thing though, I respectfully call on the theatre company to ban all food and drink. Spilled water, dropped cups, and soddened programs are not wanted here.

I trust future critical reviews will not have to make reference to the elephant in the room as did the GLOBE & MAIL REVIEW, to name one.

Hoping that the cast and company have found catharsis in Albee.

People Watching-Soulpepper and an oyster lesson at Pure Spirits

“Is this lettuce leaf all for me?”  Norman in Table Manners

The long weekend continued with a day in Toronto that included all three plays from The Norman Conquests, the St. Lawrence Market and some nice nibbles at Pure Spirits where I’m pleased to report there was substantially more on offer than just lettuce leaves.

A little panic stricken about the drive in-long weekend and all the joy it brings; QEW jammed with families bound for the US.  Never understood why people wait ‘til mid-morning Saturday to make a move or indeed travel South on long weekends at all.  You know what you’re getting yourself in for; pick another weekend. What’s the fascination with pastry shells, anyway? Often wonder if it’s worth the three hour wait at the border. Okay, so you cannot get rolled pastry in this country; take them out of the case and lay them flat. I digress.  Piece on the morning show regarding exchange rate.  CA dollar on par so why are we paying so much more in the North?  Move to get shoppers to stay away from Black Friday.  Fortunately the traffic presently at a standstill was going the other way so the rest of us enjoyed a smooth run.

Parked up and sprinted to the Distillery District while shovelling down a chocolate and caramel pretzel.  By nature, I’m not an inhaler of food but there wasn’t time for a proper lunch.  In fact I thought I was in for a day of grazing due to intervals of sixty and ninety minutes.  Would this be an espresso laced day?

Never got ‘round to The Norman Conquests with Richard Briers and Penelope Keith so long overdue to see the play.  If you have the choice, try to see all three on the same day.  To be perfectly honest, I think I would have difficulties remembering all the little things going on from one week to the next.  (We were spoiled with Angels In America-another marathon.)  Mass confusion with the seats and guests were a little ruffled.  I couldn’t get the damn phone to shut off and we all know how I feel about cell phones going off mid play. Conferred with seatmate and think we got there but slight paranoia over telemarketers making their calls during a critical point in play.  Meant to ask where seatmate was visiting from.

Conquests is comprised of three plays that revolve around six characters with each play taking place in a different part of a house but in the same time frame as the preceding plays. Hope that’s clear. Table Manners was a romp and everyone had a good laugh.  Very often, you’ll get veteran theatre goers who look downright miserable.  They’ve seen everything so many times I think they go out of habit and don’t really get into the plays. 

Sterling cast for this one-Shultz, Reid, Boyes, Mennel, Condlin & Dennis (if memory serves). It seems as if you could enjoy your character night after night; all very playful and flirty.  I enjoyed the table mats; we’ve got some old Sheffield scenes in the top drawer.  I like that they were given pride of place, like fine crystal. Norman is a bit of a disaster but his zeal for life comes through and you willingly cheer him on.  Loved the breakfast scene; oh to have so much energy (and self-control) in the AM.  Confess to examining actors’ bare feet for state of arch support.

Off to get rid of the phone and have a browse. October is good time of year to go to the Distillery District.  Crowds are manageable, temperature is good and it’s usually easier to get into a restaurant. (Or so I thought.)

On the To-Do List is a sake tasting.  They also do a sake-based Cosmopolitan and salad dressings.  The Cosmo sample was rather nice.  The air was thick with when I arrived as someone had just dropped a bottle. Quick whip ‘round the St. Lawrence for the Foodie Pen Pal. Decided on Bisket-a-Basket apricot jam with brandy, chocolate and lemon. How can you go wrong with brandy and chocolate?  Another dash back to the theatre; another pretzel in hand.

Getting good results on the plea for phones to be turned off.  Second disembodied voice to encourage eyebrow raising.  What can be done about mint popping?  It too deserves an equally sound thumping.

Living Together finds us amongst the Lounge chairs with the family trying to maintain some sense of normalcy. The play mellows out and we get a little deeper into the characters.  I call it a romp but there is great poignancy. Different seatmates for this one and I asked about my neighbour’s bracelets.  Plastic zippers which turn out to have been promotional prizes from Italian potato chip packets. Who needs Cartier?

The generation gap was the only thing that got in the way for some of the under 30’s.  Not sure they knew what to do with Reg and his nudge-nudges and wink-winks.  I thought he was great fun.  Master of cereal.  The dinner gong went and we filed out with visions of what might have gone on under the rug.

I made a second stab at getting a table at El Catrin; 6:30 and they were jammed.  Over to Pure Spirits, equally jammed but managed a bar stool.  Note to selves:  if you want a meal in TO after 6:00, make a booking.  Not a fan of sitting at the bar, however, things worked out well.  This was my third visit to the restaurant and I was ideally situated for a lesson in the fine art of oyster consumption.

I have always been told to stun the oyster with a little lemon juice and let them slide down unencumbered.  Not according to tonight’s shucker; oyster eating is more like wine tasting.  First, get a sense of the oyster; second, sip the oyster water and third, let the oyster slip in and give it a good chew.  Lots of texture and you want to get the most out of it.  Our host explained the difference between the various oysters and he and his partner made light work of getting them plated.  So obviously a return visit is in order to sample a dozen or so.  First the sake tasting then the oysters.

Like to see a cocktail menu in flux.  The Autumn cocktail of gin, rhubarb liqueur and lime cordial was very refreshing.  The bar staff work hard at Spirits and are constantly on the move.  Started with the tuna tartare which I raved about before. People love those root chips.  Followed this with macaroni and cheese with seafood; the smaller elbows are used here and it was light on the sauce which is a good thing in my books.  Don’t like getting a plate of food that’s gone through death by sauce.  And since a trip to Soma was not in the cards on this day, took a Gin & Tonic dessert~gin semifreddo, tonic bubbles and lime gel.  This would make a very nice equivalent to sorbet in between courses.  It’s not sweet so those who shun dessert would be very at home with it.  Lots of different textures to play about with.  Lovely.

And we’re for off Round and Round the Garden. Consensus (before intermission) amongst audience on preferred play order-Manners, Garden then Living. By Act II- Manners, Living, Garden.

Apologies to all for my outburst mid-way through.  It’s one of those laughs I would normally reserve for the privacy of my living room.  A couple of Gen X’ers mystified at what all the fuss was about, but, they soon go into it.  My mind was racing to remember what happened at one o’clock; trying to piece the scenes together. Must try not to think so much.  Norman was in his element seducing Sarah, again.  How could she refuse?  Annie seemed to have gotten off the fence by play’s end and we’re told the rendez-vous will happen, some day.  Compliments all ‘round.  Very nicely done.

Hadn’t factored the Leafs game into the drive home.  Lots of long faces so one can only assume it was business as usual for the team.  But somehow, they still manage to sell tickets.  Next home game pop down to the east end, instead.  Think you’ll get more out of Soulpepper and the Distillery District than you will a hockey game.

Until next time.

Mind the shrubbery.

 

People Watching~The Distillery District & a tour of the neighbourhood

Having just emerged from the patch of weeds in the back, I find I’m a little behind with my posts.  August is a busy month, post-wise.  You see this all the time; writers in a panic over their posts.  And for what reason?  Do we have deadlines? No. Is the public crying out? No.

Back to those weeds which some of you call wild flowers.  And in any other environment I would agree. Went into the depths of the garden to discover a vast network of green things-climbers, early stage ragweed, walnut trees; red berried, poisonous, thorny, bushy life forms.  Out, damned plant!  I am surrounded by non-gardeners and their overflow sprouts in my garden.  They think it’s the other way ‘round.  Attempted to converse with the new neighbour but she was busy chopping the forest growing up between the fence.  I need her to know that I’m not responsible for that growth.  She declined to converse.

After a copious slathering of calomine lotion, the itching has died down and I’m ready to continue.  Now where was I?   Ah, the long weekend.  Yes, what’s it been now? Ten days?  Staggered out of bed last Friday AM; ten hours ‘til vacation mode.  People watching planned for Saturday-Angels In America at Soulpepper and a wander through the Distillery District.  On tenterhooks so what did I do but break out the Ovaltine and had an early Friday night. As with all vacations, believe it is the not doing that is important.  What am I not doing?  Getting up at dawn, regimented meals, dealing with instant gratification of the masses.  Less is more.

People love to stop and gawk.  Drivers have an equal desire to get from A to B in as timely a manner possible and to slow down and gawk at traffic accidents, construction sites or community events.  Such was the case Saturday morning; so close, yet so far.  Caribbean Festival in full swing and traffic slowed to soak up the atmosphere.  Patience, my friend. Remembering that Lakeshore was closed AND Spadina & King.  UGH.  If nothing else, it gives you time to take in yet another high rise development.

Should caffeine be considered an impediment to driving?  I dosed on a double espresso before departure. I did not want to nod off (as someone did) half way through the matinee.  As it turned out, there wasn’t much chance of sleep.

End of times, politics, death by AIDS.  All the hallmarks of a potential snoozer.  Not so.  Angels in America is a fine show and I would not do it justice to describe it here.  I use fine a fair bit but only if something’s deserving of it. This is an engrossing and highly emotional play.  As with all Soulpepper productions, there really isn’t anything you can fault them for.  Love the staging. Most people are familiar with the play or have seen the HBO production.  I had the benefit of no one sitting in front of me so it was like being in the play.   There weren’t any of the usual distractions-perfume, whispering, purse rummaging.  Why do people bring those enormous suitcases to the theatre?  What are you carrying in there? A family of refugees? The new warning to turn off cellphones seems to be working well.  My only issue with the theatre is intermission.  Make a B-line for the concession counter if you want to eat.  Service is slow and your best bet is to pre-order.  Do like the fact that we can take our drinks in with us.  You’ve really no choice. After waiting in line, there is no time left to ingest it.  All this was soon forgotten about-the Angel was coming and when she did arrive, she made quite an entrance.

End of Part I.  Time for dinner but first a browse.  The district played host to Art Fest this weekend.  Painters, photographers, jewelry artisans and bakers in addition to the usual artists who keep studio space in the district.  Saw a very nice piece and if I ever have $850 that I don’t know what to do with…  How does one price art?  Here is a sample of some of the artists.

I gravitated to more reasonably priced fare-Warkworth based Sprucewood Handmade Cookie Co. Picked up rosemary & cheddar and chocolate chip.  Small batch, heavy on the butter shortbread.  Delicious.  Next Art Fest is August 30-September 2.  This  one is billed as a fine art show.  Bring your cheque book.  Had a browse through John Fluevog Shoes.  Now I would say that my indulgence is shoes but this takes shoe making to another level.  How to decide  amongst them?

For those of you who do not know, the Distillery buildings have retained many of the original features and so even if you are not a shopper (I am not a shopper) it’s worth having a wander through the galleries, shops and studios to see some of the antiquity.  On to dinner.

El Catrin was opened at last, but the line up was long.  Like the look of the place.  In its previous incarnation it seemed it was only looking for a certain kind of patron and the hours didn’t jive with the demand.  All that has changed.  There is a nice open patio and they’ve made much better use of the space.

Something rare-people in my posts...El Catrin on the rights, Pure Spirits on the left.

Chose Pure Spirits. Couldn’t decide so took a bit of everything.  Recommending the tuna tartare.  This was very nicely presented, seasoned just right and came with taro root chips.  Next was chilled mango soup (lots of ginger & dill) followed by an enormous bowl of curried mussels. The restaurant serves fresh, warm bread and you’ll need it for the broth.  I may have drowned a utensil or two in said broth.  Like the lay out of the restaurant-one long bar who’s specialty is oysters.  Lots of brick and stainless steel.  Take a booth as the chairs are a tad uncomfortable.  You slop around on them and the low back has a tendency to dig into your spine.

Time for a whip through Soma.  Having visited yet another purveyor of chocolate, I stand by my position that their truffles are the best.  The chocolate cracks when you bite into it and the fillings are distinct unlike some truffles where no matter the names it all tastes the same.

Angels, Part II and two new people next to me.  Not perfume, but the heady bouquet of a Bounce sheet.  Cloying, isn’t  it?  They were in conversation with regular theatre goers who are well travelled. They’ve seen Angels in London and New York.  What did they think of this one? She thought one of the characters wasn’t “New York Jewish” enough.  What does this mean?  The character evens says his family is very secular so I'm not sure what she was looking for.  It seems like this “flaw” was really affecting her enjoyment of the play.   The actors all take multiple parts so it was fun watching them pop up in different roles. Lots of favourites here; fine performance all ‘round. 

One can only top this with the perennial favourite, Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding, which The Pater served up for Sunday dinner.  He thought I’d poisoned him with our feature cocktail, my version of Fresh 15.  Whiskey, Grand Marnier & Tanqueray gin.   The original call for 15 year old Glenfiddich, Triple Sec & Hendricks.  I found it rather refreshing.  Took a post dinner look at the stars.  Curse the light pollution!  Four stars out of billions?

Started off the week with a hike down the Chippewa which seemed to go much faster this time ‘round but dragged on the way back.  Jumping on my soapbox here to say, can we not do something about leash laws and scoop  laws?  Because being attacked by a dog does rather spoil an otherwise  nice hike through the countryside.  Finished up driving the last leg to Caledonia; it’s been many years since my last visit.  Town was quiet owing to a Holiday Monday but plenty of people down by the river.  Lots of well-preserved older homes.  Me being not so well-preserved, arrived home and promptly collapsed.  With what strength I had left, listened to Part 1 of the 2013 Massey Lecture. It doesn’t do to think too hard about Quantum Physics late in the day-it can hurt your brain.

Tourist in my own neighbourhood this week.  Westdale for a browse through The Book Worm and late lunch at The Bean Bar-very good grilled cheese sandwiches.  Finally went in to Hotti Biscotti as I was on the hunt for something for my Food Pen Pal.  Hotti are hand-made, soft-baked biscotti so there’s no fear of losing a tooth with the first bite.  Go with the chocolate; there’s much more taste that the plain. Someone chose to make a hands-free call at the computer pool library.    It took every ounce of restraint on my part not to throttle him.  Courtesy says no to broadcast telephone calls to help desks.  Tried to have a wander through Gage Park but, once again couldn’t get parked.  This time it was soccer Moms and Dads.   Wondering where the next closest green space is.  A Case of Exploding Mangoes going well; a good read.

Took the next afternoon in Dundas. Remember where we were LAST YEAR ?  You have been patiently waiting for Part II.  All in good time; I got a little distracted. Aiming for the Farmers’ Market; no one in town knows where it is or what it is.  Finally find it in the parking lot behind the library.  If you were driving by and blink, you’d probably miss it but it has a little bit of everything.  The primary draw on this hot and humid day was Rudy’s Palletta-mexican popsicles in watermelon & lemon or ginger & orange and so on.  Very refreshing.  Went to Picones for pasta(gluten free for the Pen Pal) and on to the Beanermunkey for a caramel & chocolate dipped pretzel. Delicious.  Plan to hike up in Greensville, however realize I was probably in the throes of heat stroke and should probably get some shade and water.

Piece in the paper on Webster’s Falls and how the visitors are dwindling.  You can no longer climb down into the Falls, you can no longer BBQ and parking is ten dollars.  I don’t mind paying if I’m going to make a day of it and I’m going to be using all the facilities but if you are set to do a quick hike to Tew’s Falls on public property, I can’t justify the amount.

Recovered nicely from the heat-there is no air flow in the valley. Eve of “back to work”; feeling much like Labour Day.  Wait for it…yes there it is, someone has fired up their lawnmower.  Calling for ban on grass cutting Sunday evenings after 7PM.  It’s not right. And who’s that behind the fence?  Who are you hiding from?  What are you hiding?  Something fragrant, perhaps?  Think they were hoping to be completely alone.  Sorry to disturb. 

Lingered in the garden(the lawn is, shall we say, lush)with tea, a book and biscotti until driven insane and inside by mosquitoes.  Important to keep in vacation mode for as long as possible.    

Until next time.