doire

Today, as my sister said, was a 'get everything done before the rain comes back' day. Everything for me was a library hold and late lunch at my tony Korean restaurant where I haven't been in ages, mostly because my regular waitress hasn't been around. I thought she'd left but no, she was just spending two months in China. With her family. Because she's not Korean at all, she's Chinese. She just happens to speak Korean that she learnedat a Korean restaurant there, and Japanese that she learned in Japan, and English that she learned here, and now I feel like a piker. Yes, there are people who just have a gift for languages and I am not one of them, but ohh Iwish I was.

I was ready to congratulate her on missing our ferocious winter, but turns out her family lives in Harbin, which was probably worse than us.

It was a sudden! warm day, after being furnace weather all weekend. The wind blew so it wasn't quite as oppressive as two weeks ago but I still have that scratchy antsy unhappiness that the first warm weather brings. At least the forecast rain got itself over with in the night so people could get to the polls, those who didn't do the advanced polls at Easter. Someone has been papering the neighbourhood telephone polls with flyers denouncing Carney, probably for not following a socialist agenda. Which is no surprise for anyone with an ounce of political nous, but the younger generation has no memory of what a red tory is. I too would like my left-leaning Iiberals back, but in the face of entrenched populism out west and the Orange One down south, a very central government is needed to pull the saner right-wing element in. 

This being the last sunny day till oh who knows, I put a box of books out by the sidewalk and then... stayed in,  because Saturday at the Opera was Don Giovanni from the Met last year. Having missed Idomeneo on Valentine's Day through not checking the schedule, I was very careful to keep today open. That library hold that came in will just have to wait. And being in the front room, I managed 30 minutes on the bike machine without triggering my Don'wanna reflex, that has kept me away from it for months.

Not to be snotty, though, but some of the singers' Italian was seriously English-inflected, particularly the Commendatore. Other English speakers can manage the vowels, like Kiri Te Kanawa, but obviously not everyone. And of course nobody else's Elvira comes up to hers. Still, a pleasant interlude. Don Giovanni was played as an oily snake, which makes sense, but is new to me since I imprinted on Raimondi's menacing Giovanni in the Losey film, which now gives me the oogies to listen to. 

And note that May 23 is Turandot, that Met production that I've seen clips of on Tiktok and would adore to see live.

I did make it to an oddly empty Fiesta at 5. I wanted bagels but woe is me, Fiesta no longer has bagels. Can't think why not because they bake them on the premises and cannot keep them in stock. Mind, I don't *need* bagels, but those fritters yesterday upset my tum and I wanted some cushioning starch. Ah well, rice crackers it is.

Dentist appointment at 1:30 so of course was up at 8:45 to be breakfasted and medicated and exercised and showered to leave house before 12. Going by  cab takes barely 20 minutes but a) the TTC is Like That and b) it's recycle Thursday meaning the trucks will come moseying up the street invariably when the cab is due. Also it wasn't supposed to rain until later and my subway station has elevators now. So I hoofed it down there and got on same. But someone has decided that telling people eastbound and westbound is too confusing for the poor dears, so they name the terminal points instead. Which might still be alright except that the termini are Kipling and Kennedy, waaay out in Heere men say bee dragonnes land, and conveying nothing to me personally. However. Kennedy is eastbound because it has an e in it, and also is the one where I have to go to the lower level and then cross to the elevator on the other side. Because I always go east and never go west if I can avoid it. 

So off we start on our three station journey and then as we near the second station slow down and stop. Ah. Signal problems farther along have caused all trains to turn back at Broadview so eastbound trains are backed up.  At least they tell us this, clearly for once. We start moving slowly and stop at Spadina, pull out and once again stop and wait before St.George. Start again, arrive, I get off and trek down the platform to the elevator. Woman is standing there looking distraught. 'It's not coming!' And I'm all Oh god didn't we do this last time? But as she's turning away I see the cables start to move. Two women get off with their kids in two wagons, the loading of which accounts for the delay. So up and onto line1 and off at Queen's Park. Woman outside the station asks me is the subway running yet, and I say No, still shuttle buses from Broadview and she turns sadly away. Mosey over to Yonge. It has taken an hour and change to get here. No time for a Tim's but do get to send my tax authorisation to the accountant, registered mail for a third of what the courier costs and no danger (fingers crossed) of it going to Quebec this time.

My dentist had an emergency patient as well as me, meaning she floated between the two of us, meaning I got a break from holding my mouth open with my weakened jaw muscles. (Cracked vertebrae apparently does that to you.) So I could actually move my jaw when she was finished, for which I was grateful. And grateful too that I still had money on account so the damage was half what it might have been. "I'll put this through for insurance." Oh no, they said they wouldn't cover this one. "Oh, they often say that and then pay it anyway." Which would be nice if it happens but I think they refused it twice. However, I stopped by Fran's (the last greasy spoon in TO) and had meatloaf and mash with what I would have spent on taxis.

Back on the TTC, and knowing better than to transfer to the Bloor line at 3 pm, up to Dupont. Elevator to the concourse, over to the elevator to street level, it arrives with father and two kids in a double stroller, and... the doors won't open. Guy inside tries opening them manually, I press the large help button and tell the voice what's up, voice says he'll come over but doesn't. Then Dad gets the doors open from inside, remarking 'It did this yesterday too' as he exits, but the doors close before I can get in and won't open when I press the button. And still no one comes. And this, boys and girls, is why I hope never to be in a wheelchair because though it's a pain, you *can* take a folding walker on the escalator, even the stupidly narrow ones at Dupont station. Which I do, and traffic being backed up to forever all along Dupont because condos have taken up a whole lane, as ever, I walk home. And no, no buses pass me as I do so. There are too damned many condos being built in this town, especially that one, which has a penthouse going for five million and lower floors for not much less. On grubby Dupont that has no shopping or green spaces to speak of. People are nuts.

Tomorrow is, what else, rain again so I shall sleep in and stay in. Does it always rain this much in April? My DW journal says yes, yes it does. Heigh-ho.