Just had to let you know that it’s the most stunning day of the year here: 22 degrees feeling like 25 – radiant. The sparrows are splashing in their dish of water on the deck bannister, rainbow drops scattering as they bathe and drink. Awhile ago there was a blue jay at the feeder, then the cardinal family. I’m finishing the ceremonial taking in of the plants, washing geraniums and coleus, taking them to their winter home upstairs.
Because tonight there’ll be a thunderstorm and it’s going to feel like 2 degrees, with possibly a tornado further north. The temp is dropping over 20 degrees overnight. Ah, autumn in Canada. The ground is thick with leaves. The burning bush in the garden is glowing yellow and red.
Yesterday, I went across town to celebrate Thomas’s birthday. It probably wasn’t a great idea Covid-wise – Ben is now back in school, and though Anna is very careful, the whole family is out and about. But there was no way I’d miss my son-in-law’s birthday and Anna’s roast beef and Yorkshire pudding followed by chocolate cake made partly, or at least the crunchy sparkles added, by Eli. And, mostly, to see my boys. I will say again, with complete objectivity, they are the finest boys the world has ever seen. They were throwing themselves, shrieking with laughter, at their dad, and he was carefully tossing them upside down and sliding them to the floor. If that’s not what fathers are for, I don’t know what is.
Words are starting to escape me. Earlier today I couldn’t remember the word ‘bureaucracy.’ And now I can’t remember the word for the sparkly things on the top of cakes – no, not candles, like tiny smarties. It’s pathetic.
I just Googled: sprinkles. Oh oh. Worrisome. Brain disintegrating?
Very sad news: the other day, a lovely young man I knew from the Y was murdered. Shane Stanford was a calm, kind presence in the gym, smiling, helpful; he was hoping to become general manager. Instead, as he sat in his car on his way home, he was victim of an apparently random gun attack. Horrifying and tragic. Far too many guns and gangs, angry young men with no future.
Speaking of angry men with no future – watched the last US debate last night. May we never have to confront that hideous orange human being again, except as he howls on his way to jail.
Friends, now that I’ve opened the last bottle of rosé of 2020 and had a glass, it’s time to go for a walk in the sun.
And … my Macca has a new solo album coming out!
Happy to end with something cheerful.
PS Now not so cheerful. Anna just called because Holly, who works in the school system, just called her. A co-worker of Holly’s, someone she works with in the lunchroom, has just been diagnosed with Covid. Holly’s going for a test tomorrow morning. But this means I should isolate at least until Holly’s test comes back. She and I were side by side last night, inside, without masks.