mjj (flemmings) wrote,
mjj
flemmings

The perils of walking

Walked today, which was my accomplishment. Not far, just up to Loblaws and down to the new coffee shop on Christie. This fights my reflexive 'the poor aged cripple can't go anywhere' attitude and also, as I know even as I don't believe it, loosens the leg tendons that hurt more than the knee.

I even managed to cross Dupont in front of Loblaws on the east side, a dicey corner that raises my anxiety because it's a prime spot for drivers to come racing up Christie and hang a right without looking. Aged neighbour was knocked over in just such a fashion, and I witnessed a stunning collision there where a right turner up Christie met a left turner down Christie in an explosion of metal parts in front of Starbuck's. Me, I was on the opposite side of the street, luckily. Toronto drivers are not patient: they'll ease into their right-on-red turns as you're still crossing in front of them, and become enraged if you don't move out of their way fast enough. I feel safer walking my bike, because it makes me more noticeable as well as letting me walk faster; the walker marks me as a cripple so all but the most brutish drivers (who do exist) must exercise patience; but an unmarked pedestrian moving tortoise-like across the street can be a target for horns and shouts, and I would very much rather not.

The oddity about that intersection is that there are two nursing and assisted living homes just north of it, and Loblaws is full of the scootered and the walkered. You'd think drivers would be used to it. Maybe the aged just never cross the street? Probably wise. I've heard many a driver leaning on his horn to tell the car turning in front of him 'never mind the pedestrians! I wanna make this light! Run 'em over and get a move on!' Truly there is no hope for this city.

Anent which: was reading reviews of Wiener's Home Hardware, that Annex institution staffed by an eclectic bunch of eccentric oyajis plus a few less charming younger guys. Reviews were 95% ecstatic, including the encomium 'the staff never talk down to me'- a female reviewer. But one guy took hoity-toity exception to the staff's odd sense of humour (almost certainly the long-bearded Dumbledore lookalike, 'the owner I presume' and wrongly, because the third generation owner is a lot younger). "I asked for a bag and he said, What's wrong with your hands?" bridle bridle. I can imagine the conversation that preceded that, because Annex nouveau riche are like nouveau Beaujolais: crude, unfinished, and not as big a deal as some believe.

Parenthetically must add another food that I can't be left alone with: buttercup squash, or kabocha to be precise. Cooked one yesterday, put butter and pumpkin pie spice on it, ended finishing the whole thing by day's end. Mind, it was a smallish kabocha, but still.
Tags: food, place, rl_19
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