Huh. Wondering why London, Ontario is “London” and not “Londres.”

October.

This big crow hanging out above our place has a whole repertoire of strange caws. This is just one.

There. I have glided over to the Blue place. Same handle. Now I'll look for you all.

Warm nightgowns, ready, aye, ready.

Marbled endpapers, or one of the hail-damaged hoods in the car lot on McRae Ave?

The Unhappy Place, 5:55 p.m.

'Nan, come to the window quickly--the Lovers are going by.' (Ian, referring to the older couple who live on the next street, who never ever don't hold hands when they go for a walk.)

melon end

So good.

Woodsy

I was on the phone with a young man at an insurance company, when he suddenly started hiccuping. “Yeah, I get that a lot” he said, declined my offer to scare him, and just went on talking and hiccuping.

Oak by the cenotaph. I’ve been hearing about oak wilt, but maybe this is leaf scorch?

Me (driving my mother to a doctor's appointment, waiting for the light to change while a pedestrian crosses the street): Do you ever look at someone and think that person has lived a whole life you know nothing about?
Mother (flatly): No.

Some thudding fruits by the Laurier entrance to Confederation Park, Ottawa.

In local retail news, the old Kitchenalia store at 274 Richmond Road is now Shroom World, selling (illegal) magic mushrooms.

Bullroar Monday. That's what Ian & his friends call the second Monday in August.

Grade 7, Fielding Drive Public School, Ottawa, early '70s. In Miss Harrison's music class we learned the song 'The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down.' I enjoyed singing it but had no idea what it was about. #RobbieRobertson

Got-a-new-book tweet