My new book “Midlife Solo” is now available.

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celebrating the YMCA and the weather

Another glorious day. It’ll go up to 17 degrees and be sunny for the next week. I know, it’s weird we’re wearing shorts in November. No, not weird, profoundly wrong. But still, even as the planet disintegrates, it’s hard to complain about sun and heat. I rode home today through an alley of bright golden trees I’ve never noticed before. 

For the first time in ages, I went to the Y twice this week. Am trying regain muscles that were never that strong but got much weaker over these past 3 years, as so many people’s did. And once again, I give thanks for the Y, that I found this place. I was never a fitness buff or a gym rat, but at the Y I found a group of the nicest people anywhere, and while I made friends, I got fitter. We’ve been following each other around the gym for decades now: Tina, Art, David, Rick, Debra, Alanna, John, Margot, Elisabeth, Tony, and many more, plus of course our trusty leader Carole. And as I’ve written before, what I especially appreciate is that most of them have 9 to 5 jobs in the civil service or banks or companies. Normal people! I realized today that Carole, who’s 74, is both the fittest and the oldest person in the gym, and I’m probably the second oldest (and one of the least fit. A venerable puffing elder, that’s moi.)

A blog reader sent me this:

Hey Beth thought of you when I read this.
I continue to enjoy your posts…it has become my bedtime ritual….just before lights out.
She sent a meme about the brain agonizing at 4 a.m. A kindred spirit! Glad my posts help put her to sleep.

The sort of thing that drives me and J.K. Rowling crazy:

“The partner with eggs,” that’s us, half the planet. “Vulva havers.” “Menstruating people.” Feh.  

Looks like Ontario is headed for another school strike, this benighted government leading us back to the good old days of Mike Harris, who did his best to destroy this city, its medical system and especially its schools. What is it that Conservatives have against schools? Don’t answer that. I think we know why. 

Instead of fuming, here’s an autumn beauty, showing off for you:




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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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