wednesday
Last Saturday night we went to this new wine bar, not quite in our neighbourhood, just at the edge of it. A friend of ours was celebrating a birthday and we were invited. Actually a bit of a crowd showed up for it, a few I knew, many I didn’t. It was a fun evening. Greg and I decided we would walk home afterwards. Well, he wanted to grab a cab but I wanted the fresh air. It was raining, a very fine drizzle, a little after midnight and the stretch we walked was a mixture of tiny pubs and dollar stores. Music and shouting spilled from one pub’s door, slight laughter and the quiet knock of pool balls from another. A woman walked by us talking to herself, she wore a flowery knee length skirt over grey sweat pants. There were very few alleyways and fewer trees. Most of the buildings, all in different states of health, were attached to each other like a series of row houses. You could tell the neighbourhood was going through a slow process of rejuvenation and that it might get there, might not. Since we moved here, we had watched many neighbourhoods being miraculously transformed. I don’t know, I sort of like the look of some of these untouched neighbourhoods, where some of the buildings hadn’t seen a coat of paint in many years but where small window boxes of white impatiences are displayed lovingly on the lips of upper windows, where dusty ceramic busts of Elvis still sit in some of the shop windows. I’m telling you, who ever pedaled these around in the seventies was one hell of a salesman. I like new too but sometimes I wonder what happens to the people who live in these old neighbourhoods, the ones who may not want a stretch of tapis bars and home décor shops?
someday 
one more week
This is the last week of summer vacation for the girls, which means back to school shopping. Oh joy, oh bliss! Like I know these two girls are my daughters, that they weren’t switched for someone else’s at birth, but when it comes to fashion they are at the other end of the spectrum from me. I traveled pretty much blissfully through my life with a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a ponytail holder but my girls just seem so aware of what’s hot and what’s not out there and shopping with them can be a long tortuous affair. I may have to pack the tent for this outing. Erin asked if she could get her nails done professionally!! No, sorry you can’t. I’m beginning to miss those early days when a shiny, plastic Esmeralda knapsack and a box of crayons made them happy.
cosmos
Miss Birdseye
“She was a little old lady, with an enormous head; that was the first thing Ransom noticed – the vast, fair, protuberant, candid, ungarnished brow, surmounting a pair of weak, kind, tired-looking eyes, and ineffectually balanced in the rear by a cap which had the air of falling backward, and which Miss Birdseye suddenly felt for while she talked, with unsuccessful irrelevant movements. She had a sad, soft, pale face, which (and it was the effect of her whole head) looked as if it had been soaked, blurred, and made vague by exposure to some slow dissolvent.”
Henry James, The Bostonians
water lily
camping
We went camping this weekend. I remember what I said about not camping anymore but I’ve changed my mind. It really is the cheapest way to escape the city for a few days. And it was unbelievably beautiful up there. For the most part we just hung out at the campsite, nestled in our canvas chairs beneath the mature pine and spruce trees. The girls spent most of that time on their bikes exploring. Didn’t have to venture too far to see or hear the wildlife. Red squirrels, chick- a-dees and black birds were our daytime chorus while the loons lulled us to sleep. And then there was sitting around the campfire, the warmth from it keeping the evening chill away while we watched the stars appear in our small circle of sky above the top of the trees. We went on a few small hikes but nothing too strenuous. And then Greg and I decided to try the mountain bike trail. I didn’t bring my bike so I borrowed Monica’s. This trail has four loops to it. The first is at 5km, the second is 9 km and then I think it goes to 20 and 30 kilometers. I had done the first loop 3 – 4 years ago and remember it being a blast. However, I must have been in better shape then because by the time Greg and I got to the first fork, where we had to decide to complete the 5 k or go on to do the 9 k, I was completely spent. We decided to keep going anyway just to say we did the second loop. Check it off on our mid life to do list. We have no other reference to rate this trail because it is the only one we ever been on but I think it was listed as moderately difficult. I, myself, found it extremely difficult but it was certainly all worth it for the incredible rush on the way down. I am a very cautious person most of the time but at one point, even when my good sense was telling me to, I had no desire to slow down. It was a very bumpy ride; lots of rock and root and at every dip there were huge puddles. Monica’s bike took a pretty good beating and I think I might need to bring it in somewhere to get it looked at, it’s making some funny noises now. Next year on to the 20k loop (maybe not) – I suppose though if we brought a nice lunch and took lots of stops it wouldn’t be so bad???
Anyway, very happy to have had those few days up there.
cub
weekend
moose
closed to the public
Monica and I biked to her camp this morning. Beautiful morning. Lovely breeze. More like a wind really. After dropping her off I kept biking. Ended up at Leslie Spit and was so very content to sit by the water for a while. The waves crashing up over the cement blocks and twisted iron rods. There was a lot of metal strewn everywhere, coppery and weakened with rust. Weeds and wildflowers had found homes in the cracks and crevices of broken slabs of white cement, which may or may not have come from old highways, bridges, buildings? I don’t know why this small peninsula is like this but it would be a great place to film a post apocalyptic film. Oryx and Crate comes to mind when I’m there. There was once an old abandoned gas station, which looked forlorn and kind of spooky on the edge of this cement shore, but they tore it down a few years ago.
It wasn’t until I had dropped my bike in the grass and went down to sit near the water did it occur to me that no one was here (except for dump trucks coming and going) when usually this place is full of people jogging, biking, walking. And it wasn’t until after leaving the gates agian did I notice the huge sign (which for some reason I didn’t notice on the way in) that read Open to the public weekends and holidays ONLY. That explained a lot.
It also finally explained a day that Greg and I had spent there fourteen years ago. We were only in the city for maybe all of eight months and it was my birthday and I was a little melancholy for home. I remember having to work that day but I called in sick and rather sitting home feeling guilty that I called in sick, Greg and I decided to go explore the city and have a picnic somewhere. So we took our bikes and a bottle of wine (which was usually the only item our picnics ever contained) and found Leslie Spit for the first time. (I think we were trying to find the ferry for the Island) Anyway, we often think back very fondly on that day and wondered how we seemingly had it all to our selves. I guess we must have missed the sign that day too?
Left it all
to the last minute so I came up to my desk this morning, coffee in hand, to write a list of the things I needed to do for today. My daughter is having a party this evening in celebration of turning 11 and I have to pull this neglected house together and then go shopping for cake and everything else a party requires. I told myself I would not write this morning but somehow as I was sitting here making this list, my computer came to life. (Well, it may have been that I turned it on? ) And since the computer was now on, I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I took a few minutes to quickly read over the story I was writing yesterday, just to see if it sounded O.K. That led straight into trying to rewrite some of it and then I was gone, forgetting my promise not to write. I have to thank my empty coffee cup, who kindly brought me back about forty minutes later. It was difficult to pull myself away and I don't think my muse (if I have one) was amused. - i think he is trying to tell me to make hay while the sun is shining. But it has to wait. Lots to do. Party time… bring on the dancing horses.
tomatoes
Monica is in sailing camp for the next two weeks. It is a day camp so I take her down every morning by streetcar and then I walk home along the beach and through the park and up the hill. This is the first morning that the sun didn’t have to fight its way through a ceiling of smog. However, smog or no smog, I have been enjoying these walks but it was definitely nicer this morning looking across the lake with out that haze hanging over it. It takes me about forty minutes to walk home. When I was walking slowly up through the park and under the shade of the trees, I couldn’t help marveling at all the fit joggers and bikers going by. I do feel a little guilty that I had jogged maybe three times since that 10k. I know I will start up again eventually but I wish I could be more consistent.
I might not be jogging but I have been writing quite a bit the last few weeks. Some of it I like, some of it I don’t but I ‘m happy to be getting it down on paper. A lot of things are getting neglected around her because of my writing but that’s O.K. The girls have been doing their own thing anyway, so I’m not feeling too guilty about the extra time I been spending on my stories. Actually, I’m having a lot of fun and am feeling rather productive. Like I just knitted a sweater or something.
Each day now I am bringing in armfuls of tomatoes from my garden. Cucumbers too but I have so many tomatoes, I don't know what to do with them all. I have been trying to incorporate them into every meal but it’s getting harder. The girls are rebelling. Yesterday Greg just sliced a few, tossed them around in olive oil, basil and pepper and placed thin slices of mozzarella cheese over them and they were delicious that way. I love growing food –there is something so satisfying about bringing it in, from your garden to your table.
wild beach pea
august
Quiet around here. Greg is ill with a long lingering cold. Monica and I are enjoying the new Harry Potter book. My neighbour lent me Mitch Albom’s “the five people you meet in heaven.” She just thought I would like it so dropped it off, which was kind of her. I now have another small tower of books at my bedside that I am hoping to get through. But first I need to finish Stephen king’s last dark tower book. I have been reading quite a lot this summer and when I was home my family gave me so many suggestions. My sister was adamant that I read The Known World by Edward Jones. So I went out and bought it. And for Father’s day I had giving Greg “The Master” by Colm Toibin and he loves it, which makes me want to read it. And since he has been talking to me a lot about Henry James lately, I had picked up a copy of The Bostonians from the library along with a few other books. I haven’t read any of Henry James before and am curious. Anyway these are only a few of the titles in my stack. I was finding it increasingly harder to read and for a while I was content just blaming the energy saving light bulbs we put in our lamps but now I realize the culprit is my forty-three year old eyes. I picked up a pair of cheap reading glasses and I can’t believe how much better things are now but I know I need to make an eye appointment and get the right prescription soon. I guess middle age has found me, drat!
