still no 'net

A monosyllabic Rogers guy came yesterday, just before I left for Ryerson. Two minutes in the basement and he came up, said he'd tightened something and it was all working. And it was, both the internet and the TV. Hooray. I pedalled off on a stunning evening to the first night of school - exciting. Always great to greet a new class, the usual fascinatingly diverse group of writers.

That night, watching Jon Stewart, I noticed the TV going wobbly. And then the internet failed and the cable died AGAIN. I am once more at the Local Gest on Parliament Street, trembling without my fix. It is truly an addiction. I get up in the morning anxious to get my hands on three things: coffee, bowl of porridge, and email.

Oh well. It's a nice place here, and since I'm bringing them the business of my book launch, they don't mind me using their internet. But I do prefer my own. The next Rogers guy comes tomorrow between 8 and 10 a.m. Fingers crossed.

Do not take anything for granted. Speaking of which, there's a superb article in today's Star by Catherine Porter, who just spent a year with her family in Africa and writes about seeing our western urban lives with new eyes - how very, very much we take for granted. And also that we are in an abusive relationship with our mayor and need to get out asap to a battered shelter. No kidding.

THINGS I DO NOT TAKE FOR GRANTED:

 Garden

Produce