Wednesday, July 24, 2019

I can get to Montreal and back for $57, using what’s left of Elvon’s United MileagePlus, but it’s not easy.  After champagne with Brinks on the Jordan’s patio, I had a nice dinner with the Jordans and George, bid farewell to my Lodge friends, saw to last minute details, like my boarding pass, and went to bed around eleven.

The alarm rang at two-thirty.  I brushed my teeth and dragged myself into the shower to wake up.  I was ready when Eric arrived at 3:25 am, but I was grumpy as hell.  He marshalled me into the car and off we set for SFO.  At least you make good time in the middle of the night and we got there by 5:00 am.  Are you absorbing those ungodly numbers?  Shudder.  Our layover was in Vegas, and the airport is full of slot machines, but I didn’t have the energy to even buy the chips.  I just vegetated in the departure lounge for three-and-a-half-hours.

We landed in Montreal at 7:12pm, right on schedule.  My plans for driving to Cornwall that night had been kaiboshed by Rosemary’s needing a little medical procedure to relieve some nasty pain she had been enduring for a month.  Back to form, I picked up warm dead bird and arrived at the Symanskys with it at eight-something.  They had eaten but were more than willing to share a bottle of Bourgogne Aligoté with me, while we caught up.

Thursday, July 25

I slept like a log and woke up a little after nine, stiff as a board.  I got down on the floor and did an hour of yoga.  Then I had a quick breakfast with Adam and Judy and pointed the car in the direction of Cornwall and John Sidorchuk, my dentist cousin, Rosemary’s son.

I was in his chair from one-thirty in the afternoon, until five.  Nothing major, just the replacement of a couple of crowns and my last mercury amalgam filling.  I was stiff again, by the time all that was done.  Rosemary still wasn’t in a party mood, so we rescheduled that for when I come back in September for my permanent crowns.  I had a donut at Tim Horton’s, hit up the LCBO for some nice wine and got back on the 401.

The good news was that that saved me the Montreal rush hour traffic, and I was back at Symanskys in time to go for dinner at Touceh, one of their wonderful neighborhood restaurants.  It’s Persian/Italian, and so good.  It wasn’t there when it was my neighborhood.  I love it. I was in seventh heaven, to tell the truth.  They have liver and onions on the menu, and I had liver and onions, and ate every bite.  We washed it down with the Stags Leap cab I had found at the LCBO, and it was delicious.

It was one of those magic nights.  Judy and I went out to the back garden and had another bottle of wine.  By this time, it was midnight and still lovely and soft outdoors.  A good friend, a bottle of wine and a magic night add up to my perfect way to relax.  On my way down to my basement apartment in their house, still taking to Judy, I managed to smoosh a mosquito on the wall.  We left it there for decoration.  It was the only one of its tribe we saw all night. The season is over.

Friday, July 26, 2019

I woke up around nine, and all Duolingo wanted to talk about was wine.  How do my Spanish lessons know what I have been doing?