Helllooo my widgets! When last we met, I had written, out of utter boredom, a rant about my appliances, apologizing for the mundanity of it all, but who knew that such a chord would be struck? That so many suffer like I do? Hello to Paula, whose washing machine broke down and she has to drain it by hand carrying buckets to the laundry sink. Gwen’s glass oven door cracked, and when she called customer service she was told her 20 year old stove was obsolete. Ann has, or had, an oven that comes on by itself – that’s not good, and a little bit scary. And yet Maggie swears by the very same brand that Ann uses – loves it! Rita saw a show on Marketplace that confirms that many of these expensive appliances have built-in obsolescence, and that’s why you can’t get extended warranties. I knew it! Barbara tells me ALL her appliances are 17 years old, and every one works fine. Anna says her 32 year old stove is also in great shape, and says the simpler the better. Marg agrees – who wants a fridge that has WiFi, or picture screens of what’s inside? Lynn sent me a picture of her 64 year old boiler, and says she was told it could last 100 years. And Dianne’s very proud of her son, who lives in Seattle, who ordered a new dishwasher and, in these Covidian times, managed to install it himself! Well done! And finally, Gayle, Leanne and Kathy send warm wishes and good thoughts.

 

I have none of those for the horrible man who freaked me out on my dog walk today. I was crossing the Dundas Street bridge that goes over the train tracks near the Nestle plant. A homeless man pushing a shopping car laden with all his possessions was coming towards me. It was a lot easier for me to get off the sidewalk than for him, so I checked behind me for traffic, then stepped into the bike lane. It took more than a few seconds to pass him, as Asta is hesitant stepping off the curb, and in that brief time, a guy on a bike came barreling up the bike lane at top speed, and screamed at me to get the swear word out of the way. I should mention that there was no traffic at all – he could have very easily gone around me, but he was on a mission from hell. I yelled “Hey! What’s the matter with you?”  He was a block away when he stopped his bike, yelled another swear word at me, turned around, and started coming back up the hill. I didn’t wait, and dragged my poor dogs across the road and down a side street, heart pounding. Then I burst into tears, because that’s the kind of badass I am. I hurried home, envisioning different ways that I would execute this douchebag’s demise, but also afraid that he was coming after me. There’s so much hatred and anger out there, and I’m happy to tell you that in my cozy and rather naive world, I rarely witness it. I just figure that wherever that asshat was headed, it couldn’t be as loving a home as mine.

 

And on that note, I want to tell the world how proud I am of Ronan, who gives us all so much joy. He wrote his last undergraduate assignment today, and, in a few weeks, will be a newly minted Honours Bachelor of Arts with High Distinction from the University of Toronto. It’s been really tough on all the kids who have had to complete their year from home, whether it be high school or university. Proms and parties have been cancelled, not to mention graduation and convocation. We will have a small celebration at home when he gets his diploma, but in the mean time, here he is, looking into what I’m sure will be a bright future:

 

The gown is from high school, the tassel from Florence, and the album is Oscar Peterson’s Night Train. We do what we can.

 

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