on missing men and trees and hating "Minions"

Two males of whom I'm extremely fond though we've never met are playing an annoying game of no show. My second grandson is comfortably lodged inside his mother and refuses to budge, though she is very hot and uncomfortable and most anxious for him to come out and play. If there's no  movement by Thursday morning, she's going to the hospital for an ultrasound, and if there's any concern at all, they'll induce. I'm accompanying her, in case.

That's where we stand today. Many thanks to everyone who's writing to ask. Stay tuned.

And - to my chagrin, I found out last night at 11 that my dear Jon Stewart is taking another week off - cruel when we have so little time left with him. I can understand the July 4th week, but why this week? Is he also celebrating July 14th, with the French? And by the way, Happy Bastille Day to all my patriotic French friends (which is none of them.)

Yesterday afternoon, Anna suggested meeting at a cinema, where it's cool, so we all went to see "Minions," a new animated movie. Usually I check Rotten Tomatoes, but this time, I'd heard it was cute and had Beatle music and good actors doing the voices - Geoffrey Rush - so was happy to go.

I hated it - loud, crass, violent, stupid. What Eli thought, I can't imagine, though he was transfixed. I hope he understood none of it. The music, true, was wonderful - many fab Sixties hits. It's set in 1968, only, I guess, so they could use that music and also show funny hair styles. But otherwise, it's got nothing, absolutely nothing, to say. Not a single thought invades the screen.

On the other hand, there's "Poldark" on PBS and "Borgen" on TVO, fantastic TV shows. "Poldark" on Sunday night was delicious - a period romance brought beautifully to life, with a smouldering hunky hero who's loyal, generous, true, and, oh yes, sexy as all get out. As they say - I am so there.

Old friend Lynn came for dinner last night - among other things, we had salad made with my lettuce and tomatoes, and dessert of garden rhubarb compote and raspberries we picked ourselves - my new thing, making my guests pick their own dessert. Lynn and I have seen each other through decades of upheavals and are now both in a place of relative tranquillity. We drank a bottle of good French Champagne and had barely scratched the surface of talk three hours later.

It's summer but still not too muggy or hot - fresh fruit, sweet air. The garden stops my heart every time I look out. There's an article in the Star today on how, if you have lots of trees on your street, you're proven to be healthier and live longer.

I hope you're in luck with your trees, my readers. My kids live among the trees of Parkdale, and I among the towering old east end trees. If you don't have any, please plant some.