Long silence – three whole days! It’s 26 degrees and glorious in Toronto right now; you can see and hear the plants grow. Yesterday, Sam and my toothless and very strong helper Bill moved all the big plants – giant oleander, hefty jasmine, gardenia – that wintered indoors out to the deck; I’d already moved the small ones. Flourish, my friends, and thank you for providing me with much-needed green through the long winter.
So – a lot going on, and I cannot report on it yet. You’ll just have to wait, as I do, for Monday or Tuesday. In the meantime, things downstairs will also start to move around then. The young tenant just wrote to say they’d be there soon to continue clearing out, and he also apologized for the hole in the bedroom wall, which I have not even noticed yet.
The important event was Eli’s 8th birthday yesterday. I took my life in my hands many times. John my handyman friend drove me over; I asked if he was riddled with disease and he said no, I should sit in the front seat with him. While I was there, he COUGHED. Do not cough!! I said. As soon as I got to Anna’s, I asked for hot tea, because I was told if you suspect you’ve been near the virus, drink something hot and it will be washed from your throat to your stomach. That’s what I heard. So I did.
Anna had only a few kids there yesterday, not the usual 19 or 20, so it was manageable and lovely; the mothers, Anna’s old friends, were there, Sam arrived, the boys played basketball with a very tall man, they splashed in the wading pool, there were screams of laughter, and there was cake.
Sam and I Ubered back – nobody wearing a mask, yikes!; he spent the evening here cooking for me as always, and then we watched much of Season 2 of Ricky Gervais’s After Life which is good but annoying, because his character is such a sad sack you want to shake him. And there are scenes with a psychiatrist which are 100% grotesque; this man would be disbarred or whatever they do to shrinks in any jurisdiction, so his portrayal is offensive. However, there are the usual fabulous British character actors.
I heard an interview on As It Happens with Rev. Rob Shenk, one of the anti-abortion zealots who was part of the team that manipulated and paid “Jane Roe” – Norma McCorvey – of the famous case Roe v Wade, to say she regretted her abortion and was now anti-abortion. She was paid! There’s a new documentary. The reverend now regrets what he did and said. “The decisions around having a baby or not are deeply personal, painful, and enormously complex,” he said. “A woman needs to make that decision as best she can; I can’t impose it on her because I will never sit in her place.” Imagine! People can change.
On the other hand, I am reading an article in the New Yorker on Mitch McConnell, and each time I finish another few paragraphs I want to go take a shower: a portrait of pure evil, a man without even a shadow of conscience or ethics or basic decency, interested only in power and money. A hideous human being.
Today, checking in – a long Skype with Lynn in France, which is still more strictly locked down than we are, and a Zoom with Judy in Vancouver. Yesterday, a Zoom board meeting for CNFC, and Wednesday, a Zoom movement class with Jane.
My son just texted, “Joe Biden just fucked up so bad.” I do not want to hear this on such a beautiful day.