Wednesday 26 May 2004
It was a rainy long weekend, but it let up on Monday evening, long enough for the Victoria day fireworks. Last year we saw them from the rooftop of our old loft building with pitchers of margaritas. This year, we got to experience them Beaches-style, watching them from the shore of the lake.
As we walked down the darkened streets to the water, we could hear firecrackers going off in every direction - little pops and whistles and bangs filtering through the trees. Not dozens of them, but enough to tell us that pyrotechnics are more than a spectator sport here. And after the (quite impressive) ‘official’ show, a good stretch of the beach lit up with sparklers and fountains and Roman candles. I imagine every pyromaniac dad in the east end was there setting them off.
And just as cool were the natural fireworks earlier in the weekend… the thunderstorms here are tremendous, and there’s something lovely about listening to the thunder from inside a house.
Tuesday 2 July 2002
Over to Leaside to help three friends move into a new apartment, in sweltering heat. I do not exaggerate when I say that their new two-bedroom was packed to the ceiling by the time we finished. In all we hauled four crammed truckloads up to their third-floor walkup, including an air conditioner, two microwaves, three televisions and four vacuum cleaners, one of which was a giant shop model measured in horsepower, not watts; five cats, a rabbit and a guinea pig. The place already had an AC unit and microwave. We had difficulty finding room for the beds, even when they were on their sides. When we left, the chairs were all stacked one on top of another, and the couch was home to several more boxes.
It was brutal, but we prevailed. I hope the place works out for them.
We staggered home. J came with us, and together we watched the Canada Day fireworks from our rooftop - a pretty fine view. A couple of our neighbours from down the hall had also braved the dark, dusty climb. Sean served margaritas. M (one of the folks we’d helped move) came by too late to catch the fireworks, but there were plenty of margaritas. She crashed on our futon; so did J. Everyone called in sick for Tuesday, except for Sean - poor freelance boy…
