Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Macca and moi, together at last

For those of you who thought I made up my early marriage to Paul McCartney, here's a photograph that proves that we really were together, way back then ...
Or maybe not - since he looks so very young and the old bag beside him does not. But thank you, dear friend Chris, who's so adept with Photoshop, for making my dream come true for a minute or two.

Just rented an Autoshare car for the first time in ages and drove madly around town doing errands and buying heavy things, like computer paper at Staples and milk and most of all, wine. I got two cases. That should last me a week or two.


Yesterday early afternoon, I met Anna, Eli and Ben at the West End Y to get Eli registered for swimming lessons, just like his mother lo these many years, then we all had lunch in the beautiful garden of old friends Jessica and Geoffrey nearby, then walked north to Long and McQuade where I bought the acoustic guitar I'd ordered from Quebec, the very last 65th birthday present for myself. In my teens I played and sang, badly, soulful folk songs and lots of Joni Mitchell, and now I intend to do the same. "And the seasons, they go round and round ..." "Suzanne takes you down ..."

Last night, the term started at Ryerson, a nice full class, the usual fascinating bunch, lucky me.

It is boiling hot, blazing sun. And on the weekend, when thousands of people wanted to roam the streets of C'town, it was freezing and wet. Sheesh. Still, first world problems. The pictures in the newspapers make me feel like the richest person on earth.

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