Well, Duh

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Attic Boy is Back

Life was quieter when Attic Boy departed for India and Thailand but when he finally decided he needed a place to wash his clothes and catch up on his blogs, he returned.

He doesn't exactly have one home. There's Vancouver where two of his brothers live; then there are various friendly ex wives in Alberta and now we come to Waterloo, where he has a sister and two brothers. And me, his mom.

He's a carpenter and a few visits back he reluctantly invaded my attic goaded on by his sister, and he wired three rooms for center ceiling lights.



This is my favorite shot:



Funny thing, it's time to pick up more work to save for the next trip, but his sister managed to grab him by the scruff-of-the neck and he's busy building her a swishy laundry room. Swishy in as much as she will no longer have to climb over boxes of hard-to-store junk to reach the washer and now the dryer is hooked up to an outside vent instead of using that strange pail of water gizmo. Oh yes, and now she has a laundry tub.

This is our strategy for keeping him here with us as long as we can.

We always get into mischief when A.B. comes to town and this time we are trying to figure out how and where to buy a three-family property for us all to be close together and carry on with our fanciful plans.

Welcome back Stevie.

A couple Of Days In The Life

We spent Easter Sunday under the cold, cold grip of spring or what will eventually be spring. So cold that I didn't take any thrilling pictures but I managed a shot of the Waterloo egg toss champs. They only broke two eggs on their way to the championship and they won their title fair and square despite the added difficulty of playing outdoors with winter-blue hands.



Next day, my number five son drove me into Toronto. I was recognize able as the wimp sniveling and moaning in the car safely travelling along the 401 Highway. The poor guy drove like an, uh, little old lady to keep me mollified.

This man is obviously a saint to endure that drive (we won't discuss the return trip).

Our goal was to remind me that I lived her for years and loved it.My Hal's ashes are buried smack in the middle of Toronto in a spot thousands of people pass by every day, and no one knows he's there, except his family.
We'd visit his private spot, get in some quick shopping at Kensington Market, a famous multi-ethnic area clustered into a very few blocks and top it all off with a ball game.

I was so busy soaking in the sights and sounds that the camera didn't get much of a workout but this sign got my attention--I know, I know, it's fuzzy, but it reads, "nuts Make the World Go round." Okayyy.



A while back during a politically adventurous summer in Toronto, many plaster moose appeared on the streets to be auctioned off for charitable causes. The two standing cheerfully atop the roof of this private home are wearing a Toronto Maple Leaf shirt and a Toronto Blue Jays shirt. You gotta love them.



Eventually we reached the Domed Stadium (it has another name but I choose to forget that) and we watched the Jays whomp Kansas city. We sat in the nosebleed section, us and an amiable crowd of 54,000 around us and we had a blast.



The thing is, I let the distraction of that ungodly drive keep me away from Toronto and it's a mistake. It's a huge, sprawling city with many skin colors and dialects and an unbelievable variey of foods and customs all somehow co-mingling.

I live in a town fifty miles away whose older population can hardly be described as either lively or appreciative of anything that isn't WASP and sometimes I think I'm going to strangle from it all. Too late to move now and besides, my kids are here and I love them.

I'm going to be especially nice to that kind son and maybe he'll take me back for another game and a visit around town.

God forbid that I drive myself into that suicide alley.