221201 coming to toronto

 Dec. 1

It took so long to get here, I mean in time. We walked through each day and used it up thoroughly, and then it comes to be November's end. And here we are in Toronto for the winter. 

I feel as if we are squeezing in, both physically and psychologically, going from a one relationship household to a fifteen relationship household. And that doesn't include the dog. Rocky himself has six! I am sure I have said this before but it strikes me anew, most times. There is also the psychic space that we each take up. In Quebec, K and I knock about that ridiculous open space, house and woods, while here there are six in a bungalow. So we must share the spaces as we go about our separate tasks, the kitchen, the living room.

The sunrise was excellent on our last morning at the vineyard. It is an ephemeral show, the colours appear, brighten and then are gone and the sun rises in a moment, the earth turning. It is visceral, mythical, and seems to bring me to a place of basic being. I am alive and part of this planet, of the sun. It resets my mental state from the worries of the night - always they are about past and future, and powerless - to a hope and energy for the new day, where I can make a difference. 

These flying pigs made my day! I found them in a neighbour's garden. I love to see the Christmas lights and other decorations. They are frivolous, and unnecessary, and there have been efforts to make them more ecological, but to me they are important. They express community, they are our neighbours saying hello, season's greetings. They show awareness of our shared space and experience.

Flying pigs, though! 

This was posted at the entrance to the hydro field, where the neighbourhood walks its dogs. Rocky and I walked along here on our first night back, but met no-one. I am actually delighted to hear about the coyotes. I love to see wildlife in the city, making its way in a world that is not built for them, taking its "natural" habitat and replacing it with our urban, human habitat. This morning there were rabbit prints everywhere, much more than we see in our wilder Estrie home. 

At this time of year the fallen leaves make "transfer prints" on the sidewalks when it rains. They are so perfectly drawn, "printed" from pigment in the leaves onto the concret.

 There is a small fall of snow this December first morning. This morning's sunrise was reflecting on the church roof that we see from our porch.

Rocky enjoyed making the acquaintance of some neighbour dogs at the field, but I noticed afterwards that he did not require a constant companion other than me, and, after greeting and playing with these few dogs, he was happy to walk on with me, exploring the paths and trees with his nose, not needing to speak with the rest of the dogs we saw.

Indre and Robin are quite taken with my Duolingo app - I watch Robin and for him it is like a video game: he is learning how to "win" which only incidentally is teaching him french! Indre, who is taking french already at school, is interested because of that connection.

It is strange to be in the city again. It is more noticeable to me here that the pandemic is "over", although it is not actually, with very few masks being worn and even in some public places the hand sanitizer is gone from the door.

Keep safe and well. 

Mumma Yaga