The most stunning Sunday morning here, the air drenched with jasmine, camellia and roses – but in the background, the TV is turned to an epic battle of grunting – Raonic versus Murray, the men’s final at Wimbledon. My mother would be so torn; as a Brit she supported Murray, as a patriotic Canadian, she rooted for the young Canuck. I just called Auntie Do, who has been fixated all week, of course, and asked who she’s for. “The Canadian,” she said, which made me glad; she did leave England forever in 1952, after all. “But Murray is playing better,” she said.
I don’t care particularly but will check in once in a while.
Home. What bliss, what heaven is this city, so tiny and tidy after NYC, and yet huge, crowded with things to do and places to see. Just the right size for a city person, though growing too fast, the traffic insane. Though not, never, as insane as the streets of New York. I had a thrilling visit to that great city, and was, as always, beyond thrilled to come home.
A last few shots from my trip:
New York is tolerant – signs like this are everywhere.
Spelling perhaps not the strong point here.
There’s poetry all over, in the busses and on walls. This famous poem was on the wall at Pen station.
The day after my return I had a sleepover with Eli, who was driving his mama crazy. City day camp starts next week, but in the meantime, she has a very stubborn, extremely energetic boy in a small apartment. He and I had a busy visit – did lots of watering here, went to the Farm, then on Saturday morning he washed the car and went for a drive and then played golf, as the men in his family are wont to do on the weekend. Genetics!
Then we went to see “Finding Dory,” a charming film about a fish without a short term memory. Perhaps a bit too advanced for a four year old, but he didn’t mind and I enjoyed it, plus the theatre was air-conditioned, and then we rode across town for a barbecue with the rest of the family.
I told Anna about an incident, forecasting the bullying her children are in for in the world – as we were coming home from the Farm we passed through a group of youngsters, around 5 years old. Eli was riding his little wooden strider bike, and one kid planted himself in front of Eli and sneered, “That’s the ugliest bike I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t even have pedals. It’s even below training wheels!” We just stopped for a few seconds, taking this in, the out of the blue nastiness of a child to a stranger, and then we moved on. Eli didn’t mention it, so neither did I, but in the night I fumed – that horrible conscience-less child is going to turn into a hedge fund manager!
Anna said, “Imagine what must be happening to him at home if that’s how he responds.” What a great big heart she has. She’ll need it. There was an article by John Ibbitson in the Saturday Globe about the worsening state of the world, the resurgence of a bullying Russia and the emergence of a bullying China, facing a disintegrating U.S. and a weakened Europe. Very very depressing. Better go out and smell the jasmine.
Okay, I do have a preference. Go Milos!