saving the world

Summer Sunday. Listening to Randy Bachman, resting after a strenuous time with Eli, who had another sleepover last night. At 10.25 p.m. he was still chattering while I was catatonic, but then he stopped at 10.30, and slept till 8.30. I had an hour this morning with coffee before he appeared for pancakes and much, much talk. At one point he told me, again, that's he's three, and I asked him how old he thought I was. He considered thoughtfully. "Five," he said. I'll take it.

 I am in awe of the glory of the garden's inhabitants. Why do they bother to be so beautiful? Because they're flowers. That's what they do. They enchant the bees and lucky us.

Eli and I went Saturday evening to the Bloor St. Viaduct for a "bestibal" - an event celebrating the "suicide veil" they've constructed there, and also the Pan Am flame which was due to arrive. By chance, we were there when it did - that's it, on the walker of that lovely old lady. Eli was entranced by all the police.

And by the ice cream Glamma provides. I lecture his mother about sugar - and shower her son with it.

 The march and demonstration this afternoon - Justice, Jobs and the Climate, with Jane Fonda and David Suzuki, among many others - finished with a picnic in Allen Gardens. Great to see so many like-minded people, pro the planet, anti Stephen Harper. Enough to save the world? I'm afraid not.

I hope someone recited this, which I'll read to Eli sometime soon (never too early to start getting political):