October 14th, 2018

autumn hibiya

Slow days

Kind of a sleepy weekend, whether because of allergies or muscle relaxants or weltschmerz I couldn't say. Accomplishments include

-- voted in advanced poll for the city election, not expecting anything much to change municipally. We're 'wagons in a circle' time against our provincial drug boss which tends to promote the devils we know. Poll was down in Chinatown where I bike twice a week and I still got lost looking for the Cecil St Community Centre because I was thinking of the public school a block north.

-- rewarded myself after by brunch at the AGO, with its consoling cocktails. Also got replacement membership card since the new one has failed to materialize after six weeks. They still won't let me in with my backpack and lower back still wants to spasm even with stretching, massage and acupuncture, so didn't see any exhibits. Do I have a membership simply to get 10% off at the Bistro? Seems so.

-- made crockpot turkey breast and veg on short setting (4 hours). Carrots were well-done but that, I fancy, was because I boiled my frozen chicken stock just-in-case some of it was more than six months old, and boiled the carrots in it. But the celery was done too so maybe short setting is the trick.

-- finished a buncha books, half kids', one YA, and one detective fluff:

Finn Family Moomintroll, that really needs to be read in paper;

Christie's Why Didn't They Ask Evans, retitled The Boomerang Clue for reasons best known to the retitler, because it isn't a clue that boomerangs. I'd read it before and thought I knew what happened, but in fact I was thinking of Lord Edgeware Dies: so I was waiting for London hat makers to show up- if it's a hat maker in that one- and found myself firmly stuck in the Welsh countryside until the denouement;

Tahereh Mafi's Whichwood, odd and disquieting as ever. The setting is an A/U Persian town and maybe that's some ancient Persian custom referenced therein, but really...

Virginia Hamilton's The Dark Way: stories from the spirit world. Shall probably work my way through Hamilton's oeuvre now, partly in the wake of Zora Neale Hurston.

Yesterday froze, in winter coat; today I was too warm in cloth fall jacket. Thus October always. Have taken to wearing legwarmers up around my knees, hoping warmth will abate the twinges somewhat. Placebo maybe, but it seems to help.