lovely friends

Last night Cathy's Dom Perignon 2000 was a tiny bit old, so Monique suggested we add a touch of her favourite liqueur, cassis. Delicious. A lovely time on her deck, the champagne followed by Chateauneuf du Pape - this woman does not fool around with wine. For the last few months, as we weathered isolation with each other over aperitifs, Cathy, who's known Monique for decades, has become a good friend to me too. She's off to Newfoundland tomorrow and will be missed.

This morning, a long walk down the Don Valley Trail with Lynn, who's very fit and has an app which not only told her how many steps we took and kms. we walked - about 7 - but also how much of the time we walked briskly. Answer: quite a bit. Talking all the way.

She also showed me an app, PlantNet, that I've since downloaded for myself. It's like facial recognition technology for plants and flowers; she took a shot of a wildflower on our walk and looked up its name and provenance. She did the same for a few mysterious things in my garden. But to my disappointment, the app was not able to identify this gorgeous beauty. Too many roses. Any ideas out there? This rose bush has been in my garden for at least 15 years, and it's sheer joy every year. I counted 100 buds. What did human beings do to deserve roses?

Watched a documentary this evening about Mae West. What fabulous lines she had, often written by herself. When Cary Grant tries to take her hand and she pulls it away, he says, "Don't you want me to hold your hand?" "It's not heavy," she says. "I can hold it myself." 

I think this is a Mae West rose, don't you? There. Named.