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water power

We’re in the middle of a brutal heatwave – apparently it might go up to 35 tomorrow, with humidity making it feel like 40. I leave my air conditioner off as long as possible, just close every possible blind and curtain, but eventually, unless I want to spend the day in the basement, the AC goes on. It’s like hiding from the Huns. Only it’s the sun.

However, work goes on. Yesterday was a very busy day, despite the heat. I rode early across town to meet with Barbara, an esteemed freelance editor who had agreed to talk to me about my memoir, where I am, what’s there and what’s not. This is what I do for others but cannot do for myself, and what a relief it was to spill to a pair of informed ears and a fine brain, and get her feedback. We decided that she should read the whole ms., which I reread and printed up later that afternoon and delivered to her this morning. I feel better already.
When I got back from “coffee with my editor,” how great that sounds, a giant machine was in my front yard – the city had arrived to replace my water pipes. The foreman told me that old pipes are generally half an inch wide – mine weren’t even that, they were 3/8ths of an inch – possibly the original pipes from 1879. “It’s amazing you got any water in there at all,” he said. That’s 25 years of lousy water pressure, folks, something that should have been resolved YEARS ago. However, it is now – they dug a huge hole, put in new copper pipes, and suddenly my watering system in the yard actually works and the shower is wondrous. Thank you, powers that be.
Immediately after that, my internet went down. Amazing how that happens, no? You fix one thing and another thing breaks. After much time on the phone with Rogers, resulting in nothing, we made an appointment for today. How I dislike being disconnected. Like being locked in the Tower – what’s going on out there? Help!
Luckily, as I was drooping about wilting – so hot!! – and moping, my dear neighbours Jean-Marc and Richard called. “We’re going for a picnic and a swim on the Island,” they said. “Come with us.” I was packed in five minutes – bathing suit, water, towel and chocolate for dessert. We hopped on our bikes, stopped at a souvlaki place en route to buy dinner and caught the 7 p.m. ferry. What heaven – we were just about the only people on the whole huge beach at Hanlan’s Point – the clothed side for us – and we immediately plunged into the cold fresh lake. Then Richard opened his picnic hamper backpack – plates, cutlery, napkins – and we drank Chardonnay and ate souvlaki, salad, peaches and chocolate as the sun went down and we admired the incredible view of the city with the fiery ball behind.
After the 9.45 ferry back, we took the long way home, around the new Sugar Beach area, through the fantastic new water treatment centre which is a piece of gorgeous exotic sculpture, up through the Distillery District and through the new Regent’s Park to home – and the boys let me check my email on their computer. A day transformed from hot to heaven. I go so rarely to the Islands, but will change that – it’s so easy to get there and is another planet, not like Toronto at all.
Today, the Rogers man arrived. I knew immediately from his accent that he was from Turkey – in fact, from Istanbul. He got out his big ladder and changed all the old cable wires into the house, gave me a new modem into the bargain … and now we’re up to speed. Water! Internet! All the mod cons. And now off to the Riverdale farmer’s market for fruit.
My cup runneth over, literally and figuratively.

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One response to “water power”

  1. Good writing ,thank you for sharing it !

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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Chris Walks
This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

Carrie Snyder
Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.

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