I have cause today to be at South Terminal where I am waiting. I am v early because I am meeting a very important person. There’s the usual feast of hobby fishermen bound for boats or resorts beyond. A bundle of them sit at the table playing cards, another bundle have a chat at the next table. These are mellow fellows all, but a sign on the cafe counter that reads “Maximum Limit 2 beers per customer” suggests a history of divilish merriment at these tables may have prevailed.
There are three other very tall males, how will they fit inside these teeny vacuum cleaner planes? Will they have to fold them in half to get them in through the door?
Everything is “ickle” in this terminal. It’s like a motorway caff, except everyone headed up, down and over.
A woman is reading a book beside me called Natural Capitalism. There are three sets of boots that say treeplanter also.
For the past four days my partner and I have done much socializing. I am social for a period of 4 days each year. It culminated last night at an opening at On Main, followed by an invitation to go to a burlesque show. I had to take my leave sadly, since I’d likely have enjoyed the burlesque, but encouraged the disappointed males to carry on, while I went home to my book Cabbagetown. I needed to read my book more than remain on the tear.
Today I had a long and fruitful chat to a friend about, amongst other things, work. We talked about some of the things burning a hole in my brain of late, As she listened, I realized there’s something about knowing someone a long time that provides an ease, interest and an understanding that’s an unmitigated blessed comfort. It’s another blessing of growing older, you know people even longer.
eighth day
And on the eighth day, after hours of struggle the Greenhouse finally stood up. I used enough poly to build 3 Greenhouses, finally resorted to the measuring tape and after embalming myself inside the thing recognized that I had the clips the wrong way round. Needed to clamp from inside not outside.
The most important aspect remains to be seen and that is whether I have succeeded in my kooky arrangement to trap any heat to nourish any happy saplings..
On va voir….
But very invigorating is defeat, and being useful. Next stop: Carpentry lessons.
6.39am This idea of alternative use of roads is sparky. Another form of accommodating. I like that they are performing plays as well as eating.
6.41am Wondering why this story on the salt mines in Bolivia doesn’t include a bolder description of the how they labour to remove the salt, other than they shovel it into piles.
6.46am Reading Cabbagetown.
Well the trouble with inspecting the garden in the dark is …. the beans I had so triumphed afore aren’t quite as dandy as last night. A woman passed my plot today and said, “your beans should be much bigger by now”. However we’re small people and maybe small people can co-exist happily with small beans.
On the other hand my beetroot….
My v first beetroot…. was worth parting the soil and retrieving. Pin up beetroot!
Yesterday I found a book called Cabbagetown — a documentary by Juan Butler. It was the words documentary that made me curious I saw them on the spine, it was on the top shelf of a book exchange in a caff and a woman climbed up and got it for me. It’s a book about an area of Toronto called Cabbagetown. A memoir of that place I think. A noisy book. I’m only starting reading it in between snips of a booklet on the history of the miners strike in Cumberland, BC.