After a relatively chilly summer, we’re having a gorgeous
autumn in Toronto. For the past week the weather has been sunny and warm, blue
and green with early hints of red and gold leafiness. On Wednesday I cycled
through Yorkville, the posh neighbourhood of boutiques and banks (I was going
to the bank). On a street corner decorated with manicured trees in brick
planters, a man looking a tad ragged around the edges called out in a business-like,
almost professorial manner: 'Everyone! Listen! Close the schools! Get out
of the office! Be outside now! We're going to have a TERRIBLE winter!' I heard
him repeating the commandment as I pedalled down the block. Maybe he was God.
Anyway, I listened. I
kept the two younger kids out of school the next day (well, it was Rosh
Hashanah) and have not been back to my windowless office since Tuesday. I spent half of today sitting
outside watching younger son play in a soccer tournament, which, miracle of
miracles, after 2.5 hours of football with no substitutes, his team won. Hooray. The dog had a great time too,
scrounging for discarded pizza crusts on the sidelines.
Ploughed through a sticky morass of traffic to get home, tired,
sun-kissed, victorious, celebrating with takeaway Thai food, and feeling
virtuous for heeding the prophecy of the Yorkville Yeller. Son interrupted my self-gratulation: ‘Mom, I think I left
my backpack at the park.’ What’s in it, I enquired. ‘My phone, my wallet, my
metro pass, my house-key.’ Oh, is that
all? The tournament organizer replied to my frantic messages: nope, not
with her. We appealed for help to elder son’s friend, who lives near the park,
and he came thrillingly to the rescue, galloping off to investigate. At Rennie Park, with
the help of his phone’s flashlight app, he found a lone blue-and-white
backpack, along with one of our expensive BPA-free water bottles (‘Oh, yes, I
left that too’), all contents undisturbed. Our hero!
It’s a pretty good city that way.
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