three little volcanoes (COUNT=1270)


Two years ago, I wrote: I think the answer is to find joy in the little volcanoes

Three weeks until Austrian Alps. I love mountains because, even if there is no volcano, the weather always delivers a revelation or two

i++ It started to rain as we headed back from brunch. A good chance to admire the geometry of empty patios (Dineen Coffee picture above).


i++ Many sidewalks have disappeared. A good chance to admire construction sites. (Maybe it has something to do with being older. I feel as though the city is changing rapidly and that I’m traveling through time.)


i++ Picking up fresh pasta from St Lawrence Market. A good chance to admire (not to buy) 7.99 blue berries.

img src=artnet


Got new boots from Express (that look like the ones I wore in high school) and decided to requantify my shoe closet:
1 x birkenstock (to replace gold sandals)
1 x sneakers
2 x flats (navy loafers; black in STL office)
4 x heels (Express boots; brown Oxford; faded pink in STL office; alligator in TO office)
1 x cute winter boots
1 x real winter boots (for visiting Quebec City in February)
1 x hiking shoes
1 x running shoes
12 x shoes

total = 12 + 1 x zara sweater + 76 = 89 < 99

beer for humanity (COUNT=1259)


i++ Gray Roots Museum with his parents to see “Saints & Sinners: A Spirited History of Grey County” (picture above)

i++ Royal City Hibiscus Saison: “tradional farmhouse style ale fermented with Escarpment Labs’ old world saison yeast. A generous hibiscus tea infusion adds a modest pink blush to the beer”

i++ Wellington: Dad loves Imperial Russian Stout: “Imperial Russian Stout is one of the boldest beers brewed in Ontario. With an inviting aroma of dark chocolate and coffee, Imperial Russian Stout has a smooth, full bodied flavour patterned after the highly fortified stouts that were exported from the U.K. to Russia in the 1800’s”

i++ Jordon St John’s Tour with Tiffany & Faisel: “I had finished my Heritage Toronto walk on the Lost Breweries of the old city, the third of four for the summer, and had managed to remember nearly all of the regular talking points. Headed east over the Don, I was kicking myself for confusing the High Park Johns. Surely John Howard lived in John Colborne’s Lodge. I should have known that. My high school operated on a house system and I was IN Howard’s for God’s sake. It shouldn’t have been that hard to remember, but in the moment, in the direct sunlight, with a crowd of a couple of dozen ticket holders watching, you can misspeak”