Grey, gloomy drizzle out there – mild, though. In a bit, I’ll put on something sparkly and, carrying champagne and chocolates, walk over to Bill’s Lobsters on Gerrard, to pick up some live lobsters. Then I’ll cab to Louise Binder’s who will cook them for herself and friends. I’m such a hypocrite – I hate carting these creatures to their deaths so am telling myself that their lives aren’t worth living in that crowded little tank. Being eaten by an appreciative crowd is better? I guess I could take them to Lake Ontario and set them free, but that wouldn’t make me very popular with Louise.
Though the weather continues sublime, I know it’s fall, because the garden is shutting down and suddenly there’s so much