a peaceful protest in the morning

At Pearson. My flight is officially at noon. 12.00 is on my documents. But when I got here, already very early, I see it's scheduled at 12.30. Two and a half hours early - something of a record. And on a stunningly beautiful sunny day too, whereas yesterday was the worst yet, dark and pouring all day. I got the house sparkling, greeted the lovely tenants, a couple of young musicians with their five-year old son who was thrilled with all the toys specifically for five-year-old boys. Set off for Ryerson with my suitcase and backpack, killed time there, taught the class, managed to get a cab to Anna's in the downpour, watched a bit of the Raptors with Thomas and Eli - they won! Slept in Anna's bed.

This morning, we were all up early to protest. She had to get her reluctant boys out of the door at 7.45 with their signs, for a school protest against Ford's vicious school cuts. How proud I was of her and her boys and the whole community - the picture below was taken early on but many more came, many cars honked in support as they went by. Of course, many did not. Then at 8.30 we marched around the block into the school where there was a singalong - the Queen Vic school, some Bob Marley. Ben said, "Are we going to sing Happy Birthday?"

Of course it brought tears to my eyes, such a beautiful sight, that multicultural crowd of parents, teachers, and children singing. Then my poor daughter began to sob; she'd been told that the three-year old son of one of the teachers had died the night before of cancer.

All that matters - healthy children. And their parents.

My father the activist, one of the leaders in the fight against nuclear weapons and the Vietnam war, would be proud of his granddaughter. It's haunting in her house - there's a painting done by my mother, my parents' cutlery, all kinds of shadows from the past.

So - onward.

 The Queen Vic song. The piano is painted on the radiator. So beautiful.