Today's pleasure: going a few blocks down to River Street to be part of the Cabbagetown contingent cheering on the marathoners - at this juncture they were halfway, about 22 kilometres into their trek, and turning around to run back. There was a rock band and a group of us cheering, waving cabbage flags, blowing whistles, as the river of sweaty humanity poured past. My neighbour Gerry had been there since 8 a.m. "The first runners were phenomenal," she said, "Africans, like a well-oiled machine running in step, in a pack." Those we were cheering at 10.30 were definitely not a well-oiled machine, but there they were, moving forward. Crazy people. Admirable.
Here, however, the well-oiled machine has broken down. It's 1.30 p.m. and I'm supposed to be at CentreStage watching a matinee of "Helen Lawrence," a well-reviewed show from Vancouver which mixes film and stage. There's a $30 ticket sitting on my desk. And I am sitting under a blanket, nursing a raw throat. Was dressed to go to the theatre, when I decided I owe it to my students to take it easy today - I have to teach 3 times this week, cannot get sicker and do not want to infect those around me.
So - I'll sit here and drink more lemon tea and read books and cough. Fun!
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