It’s Halloween, and everywhere I turn in the streets of Weston I’m bombarded with ghoulishness. Skeletons hang from porches and sit on garden furniture. They all seem poised to wrap their bony fingers around the outstretched wrists of little children who are ready to fill their baskets with treats and hopefully get freaked out a bit in the process. I like the skeletons. They’re mostly human but birds and rodents are popular now too. It’s a nice nod to All Saints Day on November 1. Other houses have new sets of inflatables, and while I am eagerly anticipating the erection of oversized Santas in just a few weeks, I find the current batch of blowups trivial by comparison. Some houses in Weston go crazy with sound and light shows, an outlet for creativity which I admire.

Tomorrow, Ontario voters have the privilege - yes, the privilege - to select mayors, reeves, councillors, and school board trustees who will make important decisions that affect us for the next four years. No, it’s a right not a privilege, you might be thinking. And course, that’s how it’s presented to us. We know that the majority of us fought for that right, it having been historically granted only to white, male, landowners.* And now look at us - we are so confident we will always have that right that a majority of us don’t even bother.

It’s four weeks since my beloved Bidi died. I still imagine her poking her nose into my hand as I hold the TV remote control, requiring a pat on the head. I’d love to come home again to two girls pirouetting wildly in formation like they spent the 10 minutes I was away rehearsing their ballet. I long to hear the gentle snoring

And they say miracles don’t happen - the dream that started a year ago is about to take shape. Yes, this week took me a giant leap closer to Chandlerville.
First, there was a rundown old garage. It was such an eyesore I paid it no attention when we bought this place. Initially, it held a few of the previous owner's treasures and slowly, over six years, ended up full of appliances that Jack acquired - some new, in-the-box, ready for delivery, and others near death, awaiting Jack to perform CPR if a willing buyer emerged. I entered that garage only a handful of times, beating back the cobwebs and recoiling at some of their bigger occupants. (note to self - blog about arachnophobia)

t didn’t take a pandemic for me to realize that dying your hair is a lot of bother, expensive, and feeds this bizarre notion that women mustn’t age. Indeed, I’ve been Lisa LaFlamming long before Lisa LaFlamme* knew what it was.

My first close encounter with a skunk occurred the first summer we lived here. It was 6 am on a weekend morning, designed for sleeping in, when Jack (whose sleep was always erratic) bellowed up the stairs “You gotta come!”  A light sleeper and instant-riser, I leapt out of bed and flew down thinking something truly awful was underway.  I was not disappointed.

I’ve made a lot of difficult decisions in my recent life, but today’s was among the toughest. I euthanized Bidi. She had all-but lost the use of her back legs, and she was just too big for me to manage in her lameness. My heart is breaking.

I don’t really don’t get why people are sobbing and waiting in line for 24 hours to view her casket! Oh don’t get me wrong. Despite the institution has been an instrument of oppression for centuries, I’m interested in the Royal Family. I wrote about my fascination with Diana in particular some months ago. You can read that here. I’m curious about the anachronistic aspects of this institution that calls itself The Firm. I attribute some of my interest to my mother who has followed their lives from her vantage, born as she was between Princess E and Princess M. But mostly, as embarrassed as I am to admit it, I’m just bit starstruck, as many are about celebrity.

Twenty years ago, I was nearly 36. For 12 years, I’d had a great first act working at Toronto City Hall. The day after Labour Day, I excitedly began my second act: law. I was in Victoria, BC where, other than a bit of family, I knew no-one. I hadn’t been in school for over a decade. Other students would mostly be younger, the profs maybe, too. I felt I was only starting to get to know myself, the protagonist of my own play.