Despite rarely shifting past third gear until Barrie, Ont., we still made good time driving to the cottage last night.
To help pass said time, the Beast read aloud some Yelp restaurant reviews. I can’t remember when he first started doing this, but it’s something we both enjoy. Whether they are mundane reviews by “Tammy” about the cold biscuits from Red Lobster, or “Ryan” expressing outrage over the small portions at Denny’s, they are entertaining—and provide a glimpse of how average, humorous, and outrageous we humans can be.
On Saturday we took my mom to the Keg in London, Ont., for her birthday dinner. It’s not often that we’re all–me, the Beast, mom, her partner Russ, my brother, sister in law, and my nephew, who is three and a half, out together.
The very kind server brought her a piece of that Billy Miner pie.
I had one bite and then excused myself to the washroom, which Ben, my nephew, did repeatedly through the course of our meal. I think nearly everyone took him. He kept telling us he had to go poo but I don’t think he really needed to take one.
I’m sitting on the deck trying to murder wasps with the hose.
It’s on the “jet” setting and I want to take them all down.
I’ve been doing this frequently, while the Beast watches, concerned. He’s of the “leave them alone, and they will ignore you” school, which sounds like a school for people who share Deepak Chopra quotes on Facebook. It just doesn’t make any sense.
It’s been an odd summer.
Actually, Summer, maybe it’s not you. I think it’s me.
I feel restless, aimless, and have a hard time focusing. It could be work anxiety. It could be the headlines. It could be that I’m itching to get away but can’t decide where I want to go. It could be that time is ticking and one day I will be dead. On top of this, my beloved Thoreau keychain broke, which feels symbolic.
Driving west on the 401 to London, Ont., to see my mom on Saturday morning:
Beast: That’s a nice Lincoln you just passed. You know, if I drove a Lincoln I wouldn’t stop doing Matthew McConaughey impressions the whole time.
Foodie: It’s probably for the best that we drive a VW.
Beast: Whoa! Did you see that?
Foodie: What? Where?
Walking to Skyline Restaurant, a much-loved Parkdale diner recently under new management, on Friday night:
Beast: You met Maggie at the Lemon Tree House writing retreat, right?
Foodie: Sort of. We actually met years ago when she was a bartender at The Paddock and the old Terroni crew would go in after our shift for last call. Then she went on to open the Dakota Tavern, and then The Ace. Last time I saw Maggie, she told me she was really interested in hearing your thoughts on Skyline once she got it up and running, on account of what you said about The Ace.
Beast: What did I say?
Driving to the cottage on Friday night:
Beast: Hypothetical question: If you could be a little waterfall, a big waterfall, a stream or a babbling brook, what would you be?
Beast: Take your time on this one. I really want you to think about it.
Foodie: We are going to eat like kings this weekend! I think we’ll do up the sausages tonight and then have the macaroni and cheese tomorrow night. You should see the wine I got. I don’t even care that it’s supposed to rain all weekend.
Beast: Have you thought about it?
Foodie: Yes. I’d be a stream so that I was always moving and discovering new things.
Beast: Interesting choice. I’d choose the big waterfall because then I’d be huge.