Into downtown Toronto this morning. A beautiful, sunny morning in which Toronto showed off. It is a good city, lively and it feels very safe. Went to look at city hall again, which is where Toby and Romy were married. Big curving bracket-like towers cupping the huge space between them.
Then met Romy for an early lunch. She took me to the Convocation Hall restaurant in Osgoode Hall which is a historic legal building in the centre of town. An amusing scene getting in. I had my rucksack with me and due to the legal nature of the building we had to be x-rayed before we could enter. I had stowed a deadly pair of nailscissors. These were such a temptation to run amok stabbing everyone that the security guards didn't trust themselves to look after them.
As my sarcasm levels were set to climb rapidly, Romy sensibly intervened and hid them outside and we were allowed to in. I'm pleased we were. It is a lovely building, and I had a really nice time with Romy in the restaurant. Great food and a wonderful setting: the walls lined with important-looking legal catalogues from years gone by, and light slanting through stained glass windows. Romy happy and end-of-termish, as Monday is a public holiday here and she was leaving work early.
Romy went briefly back to work, and I scuttled off to three outdoorsy places to look for the perfect Tilley hat and some new walking boots. (I have four blackened toes due to my old ones not fitting properly). Boots here are incredibly expensive so I will wait to return back to blighty for those, and I have yet to try on a hat which a) fits and b) doesn't make me look gormless. But the search must continue if only to get one that is more authentic than Anton's ersatz export version.
Met Romy again in a cafe in the foot of the enormous BMO building she works in, and we caught the subway to Finch, and then a taxi to get to Toby's school. Toby in his car and then we started the drive to Deviation Road.
There are rules about driving with Toby to Deviation Road. First is that nobody must speak during the difficult bit where the highway out of town becomes like a video game. Toby himself is allowed to briefly denounce other drivers, and Romy becomes RomyNav whose function is to calmly provide clipped and efficient directions. Later as the traffic thins and the land becomes more undulating Toby can unwind by advancing theories such as how giving iPods to children is a form of abuse. By the time we are deep in the country all has returned to normal.
We scuttled into the house as it was raining to a lovely warm welcome from Joan and Dick as well as six cats and two dogs. Soon found ourselves having a welcome drink and a lovely meal featuring their own asparagus.
Dick on good form, talking about the local politics with the Native Americans which I found very interesting. Midway through the meal he received a phonecall from a local turkey owner who said that his prize blue turkey was shortsighted, and could laser correction help? Which was generally thought highly amusing. Joan earlier had photographed a wild turkey which had walked past the window intriguing some of the cats.
The farmhouse at night made me think of Tom Bombadil's house in the Lord of the Rings especially as Dick is so beardy and twinkly-eyed. Surrounded by a lot of trees and fields. From my bedroom window there are no other dwellings to be seen only the bright splash of yellow canola fields and trees.
Feeling rather bleary and jetlagged this evening. But very happy to be back at the farm. It is like no other place I have been.
Then met Romy for an early lunch. She took me to the Convocation Hall restaurant in Osgoode Hall which is a historic legal building in the centre of town. An amusing scene getting in. I had my rucksack with me and due to the legal nature of the building we had to be x-rayed before we could enter. I had stowed a deadly pair of nailscissors. These were such a temptation to run amok stabbing everyone that the security guards didn't trust themselves to look after them.
As my sarcasm levels were set to climb rapidly, Romy sensibly intervened and hid them outside and we were allowed to in. I'm pleased we were. It is a lovely building, and I had a really nice time with Romy in the restaurant. Great food and a wonderful setting: the walls lined with important-looking legal catalogues from years gone by, and light slanting through stained glass windows. Romy happy and end-of-termish, as Monday is a public holiday here and she was leaving work early.
Romy went briefly back to work, and I scuttled off to three outdoorsy places to look for the perfect Tilley hat and some new walking boots. (I have four blackened toes due to my old ones not fitting properly). Boots here are incredibly expensive so I will wait to return back to blighty for those, and I have yet to try on a hat which a) fits and b) doesn't make me look gormless. But the search must continue if only to get one that is more authentic than Anton's ersatz export version.
Met Romy again in a cafe in the foot of the enormous BMO building she works in, and we caught the subway to Finch, and then a taxi to get to Toby's school. Toby in his car and then we started the drive to Deviation Road.
There are rules about driving with Toby to Deviation Road. First is that nobody must speak during the difficult bit where the highway out of town becomes like a video game. Toby himself is allowed to briefly denounce other drivers, and Romy becomes RomyNav whose function is to calmly provide clipped and efficient directions. Later as the traffic thins and the land becomes more undulating Toby can unwind by advancing theories such as how giving iPods to children is a form of abuse. By the time we are deep in the country all has returned to normal.
We scuttled into the house as it was raining to a lovely warm welcome from Joan and Dick as well as six cats and two dogs. Soon found ourselves having a welcome drink and a lovely meal featuring their own asparagus.
Dick on good form, talking about the local politics with the Native Americans which I found very interesting. Midway through the meal he received a phonecall from a local turkey owner who said that his prize blue turkey was shortsighted, and could laser correction help? Which was generally thought highly amusing. Joan earlier had photographed a wild turkey which had walked past the window intriguing some of the cats.
The farmhouse at night made me think of Tom Bombadil's house in the Lord of the Rings especially as Dick is so beardy and twinkly-eyed. Surrounded by a lot of trees and fields. From my bedroom window there are no other dwellings to be seen only the bright splash of yellow canola fields and trees.
Feeling rather bleary and jetlagged this evening. But very happy to be back at the farm. It is like no other place I have been.
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