my favourite day

An extremely mild Saturday. I really like this global warming business - let's keep it.

Here's a photo my friend John sent of his daughter on a beach on the Toronto Islands in July.

Only kidding - this was the day before yesterday. November!

No island jets, no Keystone pipeline, the promise of more money for the arts and the CBC, more information coming out about our extraordinary cabinet ministers - I keep running into neighbours and we stand chatting, incredulous, gleeful, filled with joy about our country. It has been a long dark cold time, my friends.

Yesterday, after getting my flu shot at the free clinic at the Y, I rode my bike to King St. and got my jewellery back. "You are a very sentimental person," said Cynthia, who was gracious about the whole thing and has, yes, a fabulously interesting store full of tempting things. (Cynthia Findlay Antiques, King St. West next to the Princess of Wales Theatre, check it out, she's got just about everything.) Yes, I'm sentimental. There's still some of it I don't want and will try to sell or give away, but some of it suddenly looked beautiful. My mother's cameos! My grandmother's garnet bracelet! Here's the picture I took after selling, before I realized that I'd made a huge mistake and lying awake for hours.

The tiny black art deco watch I bought on Portobello Road in 1971! Useless. Adorable.

Speaking of adorable, my daughter has just sent me this picture of the new bookshelf in her living room:

That is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, I wrote back. Christmas is coming and I'm reading the book reviews to see what books need to be acquired. It's serious work, shaping the readers of the future; one of my key jobs. First on my list: "Elephant Journey," recommended by my friend and fellow blogger Kerry Clare, to the left. Moving non-fiction about the fate of three Toronto Zoo elephants whom Eli has visited - perfect.

Now into the day. The treat: Benedict Cumberbatch's "Hamlet" at Cineplex this afternoon. Consulting with John about my leaky roof. Staring out the back door at the scarlet and gold maple leaves showering down. Doing errands in the warm sun. As one of my favourite writers once said:

PS

An hour later - I'm just back from my usual swing through Doubletake. An elderly woman was there,  perhaps in her early 80's with a beautiful calm face and a cloud of grey hair. She was coming up to everyone in the store, including me and the woman in niqab trying on shoes, and saying a breathless, "HI!" right to our faces, as if she'd known us for years. And then she said to everyone, "Good for you! Good for you!"

And I thought, imagine if every ambassador in the U.N., for example, came up to all the others and shouted warmly, "Hello! Good for you! Good for you!" What a peaceful world it would be.

In a way, she encapsulated my work as a teacher. That's what I do too. I say, "Good for you!" 

I don't want to go to "Hamlet." It's too beautiful out there. Not often a Canadian says that in November.