May 27th, 2018

may 25 lilac from most-suspicious

If solitary, be not idle... that grand melancholic Dr. Johnson said. I am solitary, so I pulled me out of my weekend funk and decided to go vote. I've never seen this number of advanced polls availaable before: I had my choice of three locales, all open from 10 to 8, ten days before the election itself. Are they anticipating a mass turnout? With Donald Trump Light running for premier, better believe it.

Anyway, as I had library books to return, I opted for the Native Canadian Cenre on Spadina, a hop skip and jump from the Spadina library. Housed in an Edwadian mansion, it has oak floors and stairs and is much nicer than the abandoned cafe at Davenport and Avenue Rd that was my other close choice. What I hadn't figured on was that the poll would be on the second floor in the large meeting room. It's already two sets of stairs to get into the building, then interior stairs that turn twice to get to the second floor, then three stairs up along the corridor itself. Them Edwardians did like their bitsy-pieceys; or liked their servants to trot about the bitsy-pieceys, whichever.

The joke about me being solitary is this: as I was tooling down to Bloor, I passed Gabbly's father pushing him in his stroller. 'Trying to get him to sleep so I can unload the car,' he said wanly. This is about the right time for G's nap, and if he's in a daycare stroller he falls asleep and stays that way, but today he was in weekend mode, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and gabbling away cheerfully as is his wont when he isn't screeching inconsolably. I left them to it. Then as I was rounding the parkette I ran into the Twins en famille, parents, older bro, and large dog. Twin A and older bro had white faces from that very effective, very natural, but virtually unspreadable sunscreen. Twin B did not. I can't tell the twins apart unless they're wearing their daycare shoes (and neither can anyone else, pretty much) but I have my ideas which one Twin B was, because one of them is natural resister and one isn't. And then, at the poll itself, one of the scrutineers was a mother from twenty years back or more. So a far more social morning than I'd expected.

This last weekend of May was, as expected, hot, though cooler today than it will be tomorrow. Is also Doors Open, and as expected, I gave the whole thing a miss and not just because of low back tsuris. There's a lot of refurbished factories on display this time round, repurposed as art studios and film makers' labs and things I'm not much interested in. I'm happy to see the inside of houses, but architecture qua architecture is very much not my forte.

So I washed the flannel sheets and did a white wash and ploughed grimly throuh some more of All is Fair to get it out of the way finally; then tossed a coin. One more chore to justify my existence. Vacuum downstairs? Wash kitchen floor? Trim hedge? I trimmed the hedge, as being longer overdue than the others- though the others, being overdue, annoy me more. I should be chuffed that I could heft the electric clippers without shoulders and/ or elbows complaining loudly, as in the past, or even back complaining about the bend and pick up part. Maybe the core strengthening is happening after all. I expect to hurt a lot tomorrow, but I have acupuncture in the evening, so perhaps all will be well.

And then in a kind of 'I don't see me doing this' fashion, I vacuumed the front hallway, which at least disposed of all that rock salt that got tracked in six weeks ago during the ice storm. Yes, I meant that about overdue.