In which Martha Henry writes a review and Annamie Paul says hello.

First, the best news: the magnificent actress and director Martha Henry, the queen of Stratford, read my book and sent me a review. Here it is, condensed:

Beth, I loved it!!  

You’ve led an interesting life. The book is fascinating reading. I adored your parents and your association with them. And of course I found your journey from actor to writer highly intriguing, with lots of the emotions we have all felt. AND the whole sojourn in France, clearly the heart and soul of the book. You are a brilliant, talented lady. I am so proud to know you, even a tiny bit!

I hope it sells like hotcakes.
With love and admiration,
Martha

Talk about being proud to know someone! Thank you so much, Martha. Long may you reign. 

Hotcakes, however ... Sigh. 

Ruth and I did our walkabout yesterday in the sun, discussing whom to vote for - there's a by-election in this leftie riding, and the Green's new leader Annamie Paul is running. We'd heard she's a terrific woman who deserves a voice in Parliament. I've never voted Green because almost everywhere in Canada, they split the leftwing vote without a chance of being elected, often allowing the Cons to slither in. But the Cons don't have a chance here, so perhaps, Ruth and I were saying, we should vote for her this time.

And then there she was in Riverdale Park, talking to voters. She's marvellous - lively, engaged, knowledgeable, with - importantly - a great sense of humour. An intelligent woman who for some incomprehensible reason has entered this crazy arena. She has my vote.

Speaking of crazy arenas, Anna helped a few days ago organize a demonstration against big unsafe class sizes; she was interviewed on television, and the boys were asked to wave at the camera. They're used to that. Screenshot of their TV appearance, below. "I MISS SCOOL."In the middle of Tuesday night I woke up with a raging sore throat and headache and was terrified, not just that I had Covid, but that I'd given it to my son who'd shared Thanksgiving dinner with me - that would mean isolation for him and shutting down the bar, everyone out of work ... But after a couple of days, I felt better. Psychosomatic Covid? Or a bit of a cold. We're all so frightened. At the dentist yesterday, where I went for the first time in almost a year and a half, the technician Angela told me she wears a mask constantly, even alone on the beach with her dog. 

Just to cheer me up, I'm reading an article in the Economist about dementia. A huge ever-growing problem; societies have not begun to prepare for the tsunami that's coming as we boomers hit old age. This concerns me particularly because my grandmother had it. Is it genetic? They don't know. Now that's terrifying. 

BUT for now, the brain is alive, and it's going to be a beautiful weekend. I'm as always drowning in things to do, including too many books and an overflowing inbox, making turkey soup, a bike ride today in the sun. Tomorrow, Angela Hewitt plays Bach, and I have a Zoom ticket. 

My U of T class should have started next Tuesday, but it's cancelled. Eli, I miss scool too.