Coming soon...Or not at all. The Stratford Cure 2018

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.

Wordless Wednesday

Shakespeare Gardens--Stratford, Ontario

Road Trip-The Pater Calls 'Shotgun'

Finally able to move after ingesting a platter of samosa and bhaji last Saturday. Feel sufficiently refreshed to pen the third and final Stratford run for the year.

We drove ninety minutes West to pick up espresso cups and saucers.  Now I know what you're thinking. Why would you drive three hours for drinking vessels? Surely there must be a supplier closer to the home front? Perhaps, but, what could be better than a drive through the countryside, good conversation,  a lakefront walk and a feast of samosa and Rogan Josh?

One has the choice to stay home and paint the cupboards and ceiling and walls but these are not fair weather activities.
(Editor's note-there is never a good time for painting.)
(Editor is hoping for a crap weekend in Nov. in order  to get on with the painting.)

After two weeks, the tea cupboard lay bare and it was time to stock up.  So it was only natural to pay another call to Distinctly Tea.  I had asked about their Polish pottery on my last trip to Perth.  It being a seller of tea, I naturally enquired about coffee cups.  Of course, nobody had asked about this before and why would they?  This is a tea shop, after all.

Service being what it is there, I received two followup calls to say they were working on it and that the goods were on route.  It felt more like a rare diamond find than anything else.

After a late night and an early morning workout, what I wanted most was a nap but the open road called. Riding shotgun was the Pater-his first trip into Perth. For him, the lure of good food more incentive than the tea.  What a shocker.

Good run up Oxford 6 and not too many comments from the backseat driver.  Police out in droves today; filling in month end quotas?  Good use of traffic circles.  I fear Hamilton will see another half dozen traffic lights before the year is done.  A circle recently went in Flamborough way.  "They" were worried about the seniors and how they were going to cope with it. A little credit, please. 

Harvest time and farmers had brought out the "big guns".  Lots of expensive machinery on the roads and in the fields.




 

 

 

The first thing the Pater noted was the streets.  The city doesn't bow to the grid system.  The grid is the failing of most North American cities. Buildings located at polar opposites and sometimes nothing in between.  The grid channels you down one path and you never stop to discover anything else in the city.  You cannot meander on a grid.
 

 

 

Free parking and complimentary horse drawn carriage rides around the city. Refreshing not to have to feed a meter.

 

 

 

Made a bee line for the shop.  The Pater duly impressed by the selection.  He's a Pekoe man and confessed as much to the sommelier.  Black, white, herbal, red, green.  What to choose?  Bukhial Assam-new to me and had to look it up.  The kettle is just about to boil, in fact.

I have previously included the "Distinctly" link.  Here's another for Tweed and Hickory.  An online retailer of a mix bag of stuff but they do have a very comprehensive section on tea.  If you're trying to make sense of the labels, this tea guide will help.  Just click on the white tabs and recharge your grey cells.

http://www.tweedandhickory.com/shopsite_sc/store/html/black-teas.html

 

 

 

Decided  on the poppy and pansy cups.  Do not like getting espresso served in tureen sized mugs.  By the time the liquid reaches your lips, the drink has gone cold.  It is essential to have the right size.

 

 

Took a walk through the Shakespeare Gardens and chatted with a couple of fishermen down by the river.  Slow moving water with several species lurking in its depths.  Stonework very reminiscent of the UK rural routes.  The Pater felt transported back in time. 

 

Key question-did Shakespeare actually write those plays? The facts tell us no.
Then who did?

 

Bill-did he or didn't he?

 



Disaster struck.  The Raja is closed 'til dinner.  The lights are on, the door is open,  the sandwich boards are telling us they are open.  Website indicates that they are open.  Wait two hours or press on?

 

 

 

 

We pressed on.   Out through Shakespeare and down 107.   Success at Tavistock; no U-Turns necessary.  Found India Village in Ancaster which proved challenging to find as I couldn't remember the name nor where it was located.  It's important to have some starting point.

 

Family business who are on first name terms with their customers.  India Village offers cooking classes so if you have ever wanted to master the art of a good Vindaloo, now would be the time. Excellent cocktail sized samosa.  Enormous portions.   They will customize your dish-mild, medium, hot.  Not sure how you add more heat to a Vindaloo.

 

Home.  Eyes becoming heavy.  Ran down my To Do List but with an exercise class, a day of fresh air, and two platters of dinner behind me, fell asleep in the chair before there was an opportunity to do anything else. Didn't see daylight for twelve hours.

 

How am I to cope with the Thanksgiving feast?  I'm told it will be five courses. 

 

Next time-The "Caker" blog.

Perth County-Culture & Corn-Day Three of Three

6 AM
Sound of gentle rain on the window.
Are the car windows down?  Indeed they are.
Scramble for some clothes and out to the parking lot.  All is well.

7AM
Someone's at the cutlery again.  Is this the day to polish the silverware? Now is perhaps not the time.

9AM
A couple of new faces at the breakfast table.  Wisconsin and North Bay.  Guests preoccupied getting the WiFi up and running.   Wisconsin octogenarians-she has an arts degree and rents studio space where she churns out paintings; husband choosing not to know what she gets up to in the studio. Interesting conversation about the greying of the theatre crowd.  Not just how to get "bums in seats", but how to get young bums in seats. (It's the grey hairs that have the time and the money.) The Ottawa couple collect sculpture.  North Bay rather quiet-we swapped allergy remedies.  The Montrealer has her voice back.  Apparently Maggie Smith's appearance went down rather well.  Very gracious, we're told.  Ham and cheese stuffed pastry this morning.  Delicious.

Showered, packed and paid up.  Rain persists.  Over to town to pick up the latest acquisition for the kitchen.  Good browsing to be had in Stratford.  They have everything.  Someone commented that they like the "real" town here unlike that other theatre town where they feel everything is staged.

Coffee to escape the wind.  Have yet to replace my Totes umbrella since it was "liberated" from me in Huron County last June.  I have been suffering with an inferior product ever since.  

 

The plan was Line 4 to the bison farm and then down to Aylmer and Sparta to find Steed & Co.  As the name suggests, they raise horses but they also have a hikeable forest and they grow lavender.

I was less than enthusiastic with the weather situation.  Will we transition to the Autumn unlike last Spring? I did not wear a jacket this year.  Parka to T-shirt in 24 hrs.

Dawns on me that I've left the Bombay in the fridge.  Over we go.  Most people disagree with me on the necessity to chill the drinks.  There's little room in my fridge for essentials like juice and milk what with most of the real estate given over to the alcohol. (Before assumptions are made, I'm a one drink a weeker[vacation exception, of course] and have recently given up on the midweek wine with dinner intake.  Just want to clear that up.)

Off to Shakespeare for pies for the Pater and to find the flagship store of Harry Ten Schilling.  Conditions had turned bleak and homemade soup was just the thing.  This Harry store is larger than Stratford and also houses an antiques shop and clothier amongst other things.  I waited for the two "ladies who lunch" to show up but they did not.  Good soup-vegetable and spices to counter the arctic like conditions outside.

Had a chat with a couple up from London.  They were on route to Bayfield.  I spent the afternoon there last year and really enjoyed it.  Did the Huron County run last year-Goderich/Blyth/Wingham/Point Clark/Goderich again/Bayfield/Grand Bend/Exeter.  Recommend The Black Dog Village Pub & Bistro at Bayfield (beet salad with a nice glass of rose) and Thyme On 21 in Goderich-good creme brulee.

 

 

 

Tea pot was drained and spent the rest of the afternoon in brilliant sunshine.  Retraced steps to St. Mary's.  Look for Klomp's garden centre on the left.  Good selection.  On through Rannoch and cross to Line 4.

 

 

 

 

Nice stretch of fully paved road.  Corn everywhere. Quiet.  No one attached themselves to my bumper.

 



 

Blanbrook Bison Farm is #5679 so you'll be travelling a fair stretch before you come across it. Enjoyed the sausage picked up at the Garlic Fest and thought to try the filet this time.

 

Met the family dog but no one else home.  A later email from the family tells me that most days after 18:00 are best and that they are also down at the London Farmers' Market Saturday mornings.  They do sell heads so if you have a Man Cave that needs that little something, consider a Bison head.

 

 

 

Double back to take a closer look at the grave stones I'd just passed.  No signage  and I have yet to find out the who/what/where.

 

 

 

 

 

Apart from the stones, corn figured prominently throughout the day.  Lots of corn but is it any good given the weather?

 

If you're in this neck of the woods, take #7 to the Lucan area and make the trek to the Donnelly grave.  The original grave marker has been removed and there is a modern stone in the yard.  If you like your mystery/history, read the following account of the Donnelly saga and massacre.

 

http://www.donnellys.com/History.html 

 

Down into Oxford County to Thamesford and Ingersoll.  Enjoyed the run but decided to do the Southern leg of the trip another day as the sun would soon be setting.  The jam would have to wait.

 

Closer to home and went to fill the tank. Mistake #3.  Pulled up behind an enormous pick-up.  The kind that comes with an extension ladder so you can climb into the thing in a timely manner.  Gas station designed with three pumps, the diesel being in the middle.  You cannot access the other two pumps if someone's at the diesel as this one was.  I do not exaggerate here and it's not paranoia, but there was no doubt that the driver released pressure on that pump and filled that tank as slowly as possible.  He finally climbed up the ladder into the cab and sat there.  (I think he did his income tax return while I waited.)  Eventually he pulled away, did a tour of the perimeter and drove out of the station with his partner, who failed to conceal her smirk as she looked my way.  I repeat-not paranoia.

 

Welcome back to Suburbia.  Where to next?

 

Perth County-Culture & Corn -Day Two

By popular demand, breakfast has been pushed back to 9AM.  A much more civilized time.
Juice, yogurt & berries, scratch quiche, carrot, chocolate & spice cakes, melon, tea and coffee.  There is no need for lunch with this kind of breakfast.

Mixed crowd this morning-Windsor, Ottawa, Montreal and Barrie.  Great anticipation-Maggie Smith was in town to see "Hirsch".  One of the guests knows someone who knows someone who's in the know.  Will there be a rush at the box office?

Those that saw The Matchmaker didn't care for it.  Too farcical, too much slapstick.  To each his own.  I thought it was good fun.  Go see the Greeks or Macbeth if you want high drama. (Although, I'm still reeling from the last production of Macbeth-set in Africa of all places.  It's hard to suspend disbelief when a character cries out "Scotland! Oh, Scotland!" and he's in the middle of the Savannah.  I was accused of being a purist.  I'm all for modernization but let's start with modern day Scotland and go from there.  My favourite play from last season is Twelfth Night. It didn't have a set period.  One character wore a codpiece and tights, John Lennon delivered a pizza and so on.) We swapped notes on what to see, where to eat, where we've been and where we're going.

Mobilized and walked down to Stage Books for a browse.  Spied a Russell Smith and Elizabeth David-more about her kitchen in a future post.   Looking for Tom Stoppard and Harold Pinter collections.  Like Rushdie, Stoppard has a voice you could listen to for hours(and not too shabby an author).  To do the shop properly, you will need to give yourself plenty of time. Bring a list with you.

Booked High Tea at Harry Ten Schilling.  Highly recommend this spot.  Fresh scones with double cream; cheese & homemade chutney, egg, tomato & cucumber sandwiches.  Six pastries and a pot of custard topped with a nasturtium flower and berries.  Good selection of teas.

Down to the Shakespeare Gardens which seems to be maintained by one highly motivated person.  I secured a spot and tackled the crossword.  This is the year to master the New York Times (in pen).  Meandered along the river to the War Memorial.  Ducks, white geese and swans quietly going about their business when Jackson, a lunatic child of about six, broke free from his family and ran along the riverbank, roaring and screeching at them; once, twice, three times.  The peace was shattered.  The birds flew away.

 

Called in at Distinctly Tea.  Three hundred varieties of loose tea; sommeliers on staff. Recommend Rose Conguu, Buckingham Palace, Earl Grey Royale and Keemun Imperial amongst about twenty or so other favourites.

http://shop.distinctlytea.com/store/

Questioning whether the town hall is the "old" town hall?  Way too many teenagers hanging out for Council space.  Truancy rates must have gone through the roof.

Afternoon Tea was amusing.  Arrived after the pre-show rush.  Two couples came in after me but the husbands fancied the pub next door after they found out the room wasn't licensed.  Restaurant was empty but the women chose the table next to me.  I'm not antisocial but given that they had the choice of any table in the place and picked one that was a foot away from me, I was a touch put out.  They were loud.  They wanted to know what brand of tea they were drinking.  "You know, like Tetley?"  This is fine, loose tea; it does not come in a brand. One didn't get her milk immediately and got pouty. "But, my tea is getting cold."  I hate to break it to you but milk chills tea.   They wanted more cream for the scone, they wanted more water for the pot.  "Oh, it's weak."  Yes, because you've already taken the strength out of it in the first pot.  The proprietor handled it well.  Obviously I didn't.  The husbands showed up and off they went (interestingly, the women wouldn't pay; they waited for the men even though they had cash and plastic on them).  I was curious to know where they were going for dinner because I'd like to see how the two of them coped with a full dinner menu.

I'd become wedged in my seat from the all the pastries. Another walk was in order. Took the shortbread home for the apres theatre.  Dropped off the day's collection at the B & B and set off for the opposite end of the lake.  Broke a sweat and by the time I got there the ink had leached off the pages of my magazine.  From the look of my arms I'd either been on the receiving end of a bad tattoo job or just coming off years of heroin addiction. 

Terraced gardens and ponds at the Theatre.  Everyone thrilled with the Autumn Croci-just like the Spring ones only pink and much bigger.

Some fine houses in the area.  Beautiful detailing which you don't see in a modern home.  Watched the swans for a bit-won't be long before they'll be taken off the water to their Winter home.  Jackson did not make a second appearance.  Small mercies.

On to  Balzac's for a Parisian Mist.  Juan Chioran and Nigel Bennett taking coffee.  It's good that actors can sip a latte and hang out.

Rinsed off the ink and spruced myself up.  Off to the Studio Theatre for Best Brothers. Two men dealing with the sudden death of their Mother.  Excellent comedy but also very poignant.  This was the world premiere so do look for it in your neighbourhood.  I'd only seen MacIvor in "The Five Senses" and had no idea he had so much writing behind him.  Loved the staging.

Planned the route for Day 3, ate the shortbread and mixed myself a small G & T.  Did you think I'd forgotten to bring the Bombay?

Perth County-Culture & Corn-Day One

ZZZT    ZZZT     ZZZT    ZZZT

What in the name of arse?

Vacation week and after two early starts Monday and Tuesday thought a lie in was in order. Little did I know that my neighbour had other ideas. He is normally an early riser but chose Wednesday to get up at the crack of dawn to begin the masonry work for his front walk. Seniors in my neighbourhood don't turn over and go back to sleep. I think if I ever see retirement, I'd go the lie-in route.

Stirred from a blissful slumber by the cutter I resigned myself to another early start.  Breakfast in bed sounded good and besides the dry wall dust still coated the dining room table. I was scheduled to meet my London counterpart for luncheon but I consumed the Full Monty and one of those mega muffins that loom large in the bakery. (The price went up thirty cents after they started wrapping them in the little brown cooking papers! The price of aesthetics.)

Stratford bound again- this time for the theatre.  After several years of theatre going you finally get to a point where you know what routine works best.  You can cram your schedule with half a dozen plays, sightseeing, shopping and eating (desperately trying to stay awake during the first fifteen minutes of the last show because the exhaustion is finally setting in) or choose some evening shows and allow yourself the whole day for R & R.  This is a vacation after all not boot camp.

This year stayed away from Shakespeare, but Wyn Davies was in Cymbelline and that's enough of a draw to keep it in the back of my mind for three days.  Also wanted to see Elektra because I'd recently listened to an interview with Anne Carson who did the translation.  Greek tragedy? Perhaps not.  Keeping it light, chose The Matchmaker by Thornton Wilder and Best Brothers by Daniel MacIvor.

Half a dozen trips to the car-scheduling myself around Q this morning.  Salman Rushdie and Deepa Mehta talking about their new movie-Midnight's Children. Rushdie has one of those voices you could listen to all day.  Sadly, the price on his head has recently increased.  Previously on Q this week-Catherine Keener and Christopher Walken (The Late Quartet)-two of my favourites.  I think it behooves a host to make an effort with interviews.  Guests must get sick of answering the same questions over and over.

I'm actually enjoying this 401 thing.  Farmland north and south.  And, yes, the sun was out.  (Of course the sun is always out, it's the cloud cover that's the critical factor.)

 

I had a vision for lunch.  The vision included an ice cold martini (perhaps a few stray ice chips in the glass; four olives) followed by something really tasty-there's a good Thai close to the office or samosa and butter chicken from The Raja.  This did not happen.  We went to the local diner which is presently under renovation.  Dust everywhere and half way through the meal someones sander blew out and the room clouded over.  My lungs haven't been the same since.

After a less than stellar lunch, made my way North via #4.  Mistake number one.  What would be the ideal route?  #4 runs N, NE, E then N and changes names five times.  It takes you right through town and unless you're looking to tour the back lots of both the Salvation Army and Goodwill, I suggest alternate arrangements.  #4 passes right through the core, which is bottle neck, and UWO.  If it's food you're after, this would be the spot.  Traffic is appalling, though.

Finally hit countryside.  Good time of year-fields a little ahead of the trees with the colour change.
Corn everywhere.

 

Headed along #7 toward St. Mary's.  Construction and one lane of traffic at times.  It's 80 kmh here but the mini van behind me was determined to reach 100 kmh.  Despite the open road ahead of me and no double yellow lines, the van would not overtake.  What are you waiting for?  We drove like this for miles .  There was no rationalizing the situation.  Perhaps they didn't have a map and were straining to read mine.  Forced right for a detour, I pulled over-defeated.  Blood pressure rising, I stepped out of the car and with a wide sweep of my arm, like a host inviting guests to make themselves comfortable, gave the road over to the van. 

 

St. Mary's for a stress break.  Mistake # 2.  School had just got out and there were swarms of yellow buses everywhere.  Cold drink and a walk.  Found the Arthur Meighen statue.  The gardens at the Festival Theatre are named after him.

 

 

 

Work crew on the bridge so missed the waterfront.  St. Mary's is very picturesque.  Nice riverbanks, shops and a swimming hole in the old quarry. Big cemetery.

Checked in later than usual.  Always go with A Cottage on Brunswick  which is very unassuming from the outside  but has been gutted and refurbished inside.  Aurelia is a wonderful host and she prepares a great breakfast.  The cottage is central to all  theatres and it's a short walk to town.

Most of the gardeners in Stratford have given up on grass and fill their front with flowers and shrubs.

 

Quick change and had a walk 'round town.  Let Them Eat Cake is in a new location.  They do breakfast, lunch and dinner and of course enormous cakes and pastry.  Burned off the scone walking to the Festival Theatre for The Matchmaker-which is still playing until October 27.  Good fun.  Great cast.

News & TVO-"Why does the sky get dark at night?"  Deep thoughts after a long day.  Now where did I put those ear plugs?