Nothing has changed.
The re-cladding of our building seems to have ceased at the end of its second summer. The debris and scaffolding and cables and ropes and swing-stages will be left to rot in the snow and rain and wind of winter. The debris-chute will stay outside my window.
I set off for the Toronto Advertiser this morning and noticed that the sidewalk on Gerrard Street appeared to be swept clean f construction debris as far as Ryerson University. Further down the street orange pylons were in evidence. Perhaps the younger students have collected the pylons and cones into a single pile as some sort of prank?
I notice that the black rubber pylon bases are still populating the new planer beds, so if this was a clean-up act by the city, they are, as usual, of limited vision when morning tea-time approaches.
I walked back along my familiar route up Bay Street. College Park is rounding out its second of three years being re-sodded. Itís grass, stupid! The blue fence, open for access at one end, still blocks a significant part of the sidewalk but to no useful purpose.
Unless I am mistaken, the orange danger signs are gone, that we have been stumbling over outside police headquarters.
Maybe I should go on holidays to Newfoundland more often?
It is hard being on holiday from retirement. I am almost caught up with my documentation. I still have to advise Trip Advisor about the Wave Hotel in Clarenville and every other place I stayed over ten or eleven nights.
I will extract my criticism of Porter Airlines from my pages and send that off to their Customer relations with an invitation to coffee at the Eaton Chelsea some Saturday morning.
I shopped for groceries yesterday. Pretty easy job since I had emptied the fridge before leaving. Two bags and a streetcar ticket home. Fill the bags with whatever you see that you use; youíll need it at home.
I baked bread yesterday, made oatmeal today and have started on a tub of meat sauce. I have chicken breasts to slice and freeze, corn to pop, and then I can relax until Monday.