Even with my fever, I couldn’t resist my daily visit to Doubletake, where yesterday for the first time, I had a real conversation, instead of a cursory chat, with one of the women who works there. They’re all from Bangladesh and they’re all nice. The woman I was talking to, N., somehow knew that I teach at Ryerson and am a writer. And then she told me that she has a Master’s degree in Applied Mathematics from the best university in Bangladesh, and before emigrating, was a high school math teacher.

Here, because Canada treats its educated immigrants so well, she wanders around a second-hand store, making sure people aren’t stealing the goods and opening the change rooms with her key. I asked her about teaching here, but she said she’s too insecure about her English. I’m going to bring her the George Brown calendar, which lists lots of ESL courses in conversational English and grammar. They cost over $300. I wonder if someone earning minimum wage working full time can afford that.

Imagine – a Master’s degree in something so complicated. I’ll do my best to make time to talk with her when I go in, to do my bit to encourage her English, and to give her someone to talk to during what must for a mathematician be a long and tedious day.

Watched “Harper,” with Paul Newman last night – a jazzy mid-sixties detective noir film with huge cars and a great cast. Paul Newman is also on my Top Ten Men of the Planet list – luscious, fine, talented, smart, compassionate. Faithful. Manly, in the very best sense of the word. The ending was infuriatingly ambiguous, so I Googled, and read various opinions of the ending that set my mind at rest. Thank you yet again, friendly question-answering Google.

Today, my writer’s workshop, which was not in the garden as it poured all yesterday and today – but worked just fine inside the house. Lots of very good writing and a great lunch graced by Mr. Choy, who bequeathed many words of wisdom, enjoyed the quiche and was on his way, leaving everyone particularly fired up for the afternoon. It was exhilirating. Thank you, writers.

I may be better but I’m not that better. It’s 9.30 and I’m dropping like flies.