There’s a cover! Now it’s real, the book. Thanks to my dear friend, the extremely talented Alanna Cavanagh, for that lovely image of the swing and the legs. Love it, and the pop of colour.

Now the hard part begins: marketing. Making lists, sending out imploring emails, waving my hands frantically: It’s nearly here, my book, I’d LOVE to talk about it! Choose MEEEEEE! Not my favourite part of this business, you could say. But necessary. So, onward.

More excitement in my world: On Sunday morning, I ran the Cabbagetown Mini-Marathon, as I always do – mini is the word, two kilometres up and down our main street. It’s a regular part of the Festival, a fundraiser for the local Youth Centre that’s a valuable resource in the ‘hood. This year, over 200 people ran, lots of them children, and a few dogs. It’s not a competitive event, though a few speedsters always join. I went at my usual steady — aka slow — pace, stopping twice to walk a bit. Stayed to clap the others in as they finished, then went home to lie in a very hot bath with some Epsom salts for my aching legs.

Found out later that day — I came third in the Senior Women Category and won a gift certificate to Star Nails! I could not believe it. That shows you the level of athleticism of the women of Cabbagetown. The year I first became a Senior Woman, I stopped during the race to tie my shoelaces and still won; I have the medal to prove it. But then younger Senior Women started to take over, and at the same time, I started to flag. And flag.

Time for a pedicure. My first since Covid.

Finally, a word about my friends Ron and Babs. I met Ron through his men’s book club when they invited me to speak about Loose Woman. He got in touch afterward, told me he was a huge fan, that I was a brilliant writer and should be better known. Got my attention, right there. But also, he said at 89 he was writing his first book and wanted advice. It’s been thrilling to watch a man who late in life has fallen in love with writing and works non-stop. His first book, How I lost 25 million dollars and found true happiness, came out last year with Mosaic.

 Ron and Babs met online, fell in love, married last year, when Ron was ninety. She’s eighty and has had a fascinating life (is a huge fan of the Beatles so an instant friend to me), but was estranged from her two grown daughters and so from her grandchildren. Ron decided the way to fix that was to tell the story of her life and send it to her family. He transcribed interviews with her and produced a memoir in her voice. A Weekend with My Granddaughters is a marvellous book about an extraordinary life, and it worked: Babs and one of her daughters have joyfully reunited, and the other is coming to visit soon. The book includes Babs’s advice on dating, love, sex, and marriage, for her teenaged granddaughters.

Never underestimate the power of the book.