On the way back, I met a friend I’ve made only recently, a very nice woman who lives around the corner. We fell into the kind of intense chat you usually only have with old friends, not new ones. And now I’m invited to join her and her husband for dinner tomorrow night. One great plus of not going to the Y.

And another … I went instead for one of my mini-jogettes around the neighbourhood, and on the way home passed a woman putting stuff out on the curb. I stopped to chat; she and her husband have lived in Cabbagetown for 36 years and are now moving. Help yourself, she said. There was a nice piece of furniture, a sort of kitchen chopping block/storage thing perfect for my basement suite. “Are you sure you’re giving this away?” I asked, and she was, so I trundled it home. Benefit # 2.

Then out of the blue, my son phoned to say he was coming over, which was amazing as his sister was coming over too. They’re almost never here simultaneously any more, these two who spent two decades squabbling in this house. We went out for lunch, so I could concentrate on these two sublime beings without distractions, and they could eat whatever they want. Truly, my children are so unbelievably different in almost every way that if I hadn’t given birth to them myself, and can guarantee that they had the same father, I’d swear they were from different families.

But then, beneath the surface, they do have a lot in common – their thoughtfulness and humour and enjoyment of life; their love of food, cooking, entertaining. Anna was here to begin consulting about the big 60th birthday party coming up the weekend after next. My God, so soon?! Terror strikes. There will be really a lot of people to feed, and we are doing all the cooking. A massive amount of work, but the sort of work my children enjoy.

So all this – a dinner invitation, a useful piece of furniture and a long lunch with the two most wonderful people on the planet, all because I skipped out on yoga. But then, I can’t help but wonder … what might have happened if I’d gone?