Taking a walk well before sunrise with pyjamas under my jeans.

Discovering that the distant roar I think is rush hour 401 hum is actually a train.

Train whistle.

A white dog.

Cardinal and robin duet.

Rain just starting as I get back home.

Yogurt and chocolate for breakfast.

A birthday call during which is discussed the usefulness of Pomeranians named Betsy that don’t actually exist.

Envelopes to open.

New yoga mat being rinsed in the rain.

Raisins I forgot I had. So much better when they’ve firmed up a titch.

Lunch at The Table, where…

not only do I dine scrumptiously but,

because I’m on my own and have forgotten to bring anything to read and the only thing in the car is an old copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, which I’ve been meaning to read for three decades—but why??—there’s a lovely little non-stop wackadoo conversation going on just to my right between two friends who rarely see one another but as one of them is moving to Victoria in a few days they made a special effort to get together. One is an artist, the other a former real estate agent whose husband plays golf but she’s not interested in the game in the slightest so when they go on holiday, to Fort Myers, for instance, and he plays golf morning, noon and night, well, there’s only so much sitting by the pool you can do. And he always takes the car of course. And, yes, she likes to read. But enough is enough. The artist chose Victoria by looking at a map of Canada and just deciding after it dawned on her that she didn’t need to live here [implying one horse town] to do her art.

There are many reasons to love The Table.

Then there’s the sign outside a nursery that says: Come in and find out what spring smells like.

A basket of English ivy.

A white cat.

New Birkenstocks. [Even splashed out for a jar of the cork preserver.]

Bad Boy’s mascot who alternates between shouting WhooooHoooo!!!! and watching his reflection as he dances disco style.

Painting by niece from her art classes at RMG.

Birthday songs in wonderful wonky voices on my message machine.

Deadline’s been extended!

Selection of beef jerky from The Great Canadian Meat Company…

… to give a friend.

Not everything’s about me you know.

**

And now to gather the evening’s gifts.

There will be wine,

Cheers,