Posts Tagged: jen morrison

pearl street again

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I think this is a nice view up Pearl Street, looking east.

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A steel door. Pearl Street, Toronto.

Walked into work via back streets again this morning. 

 

rubble

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there should be someone in charge
of finding the stories living on
in the buildings
before they tear them down
to make way for the steel and glass giants

1000 stories
live in there
amidst the scratches on a windowsill
and in the triangles of dirt accumulated in the corner of the floorboards pushed there by generations of janitors’ mops
stories palpitating
under decades of floor wax
and stained walls
reflecting the colours of the words that once rang within

every action has a consequence, they say
every breath, every movement contributes to who we are
and what we will become

what occurred in that alley or in that cellar or behind that window
skewed the particles of the universe just that much
so it would never be the same
as it was in an instant before

I imagine stories murmuring
in that pile of rubble
swirling in the spaces

and I want to dig in there and find them
before they drift off into the atmosphere
like fine dust

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happy earth day – now go take a walk…

…and pay attention.  The earth is a pretty amazing place.  And beautiful thing number eighty-nine.

 

 

Out Walking: Front Street

 

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BIG salads at Fran's, Front Street, Toronto.

 

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Beardmore Building, Front Street, Toronto.

 

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Cute little "Meet me at the Market" signs, Front Street, Toronto.

 

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A quick search tells me these buildings were built somewhere around 1872.

 

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Walkin' shoes.

 

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Ceri playing piano.

Bright and sunny today, but blustery still.  Made breakfast then Ceri went off to the office and I had to work for awhile too.  Do NOT like giving up any part of a weekend to work, but the upcoming week will be a challenge, so want to prepare for that.  Later I met Ceri at Fran's on Front Street for late lunch of big salads, then we did some errands and groceries and went back to his place.  Talked.  He played piano.  Had leftover lasagna he had frozen from last week and salad for supper. Listened to music.  Had wine.  Tried to catch part of SNL but conked out, feeling happy.

good morning 2012

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First day of 2012.  Rainy and mild on The Esplanade.

Ceri had the foresight to leave the blinds open wide so that we could look upon the city as we went to sleep (see post previous night).  Awoke to that skyline under bright, sunny skies. He makes a late breakfast of omelette with pancetta and cheese and onion with caraway rye toast and lots of coffee.

Clouds and rain arrive in the space of two hours. On a lazy day like today, you don't mind.  

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Later, after some loafing about, listening to CBC radio and reading, we watch the rest of the American Masters doc about Woody Allen which we'd left halfway through a few weeks ago, and then we go out for late lunch/early dinner at Fionn's in The Esplanade.

I walk home against some extraordinary winds – at Queens Quay and York I feel like I am walking without moving!  Get home and watch Close Encounters of the Third Kind on TCM and later a good, long conversation with Debbie.  

Going to bed early feeling like 2012 is shaping up pretty good already.

same dinner two nights running

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Roasted tomatoes with parmesan and oregano and drizzled with olive oil, and toasted triscuit crackers with cheese, onion and pepper.  Glass of red wine.  

After the excess of the holiday season, I've been craving simple, and turned to the same dinner the past two nights running.

I know you're jealous.

This is a Visual Realia post.

boxing day

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Today we loafed about visiting with my family, first over breakfast at Dad and Julie's and then over lunch of leftovers of what was a magificent meal at Jeff and Carol's.  Every Boxing Day it's the same: we're all a little tired and a little bleary and coming down off the big meal and glasses of wine and weeks-long build-up, and always I think this day is as good as Christmas itself.  It's the day in which we have time to process that everlasting lesson – how blessed we are.

boxing day

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Arriving back in Toronto after Christmas in St. Catharines.  The Princes' Gates at the Canadian National Exhibition.  

Today we loafed about visiting with my family, first over breakfast at Dad and Julie's and then over lunch of leftovers of what was a magificent meal at Jeff and Carol's.  Every Boxing Day it's the same: we're all a little tired and a little bleary and coming down off the big meal and glasses of wine and weeks-long build-up, and always I think this day is as good as Christmas itself.  It's the day in which we have time to process that everlasting lesson – how blessed we are.

walking about – church street

Pawn shop
Toronto's Church Street is known for a few things; well, beautiful churches, for one.  And the city's marvellous Gay Village.  And, one might say, least illustrious amongst the three, pawn shops.

This is a Visual Realia post.

walking about

Osgood Hall
The iron fencing at Osgood Hall, University Avenue at Queen Street, Toronto.  The purples and blues courtesy of dusk, on the shortest day of the year.  Those colours, that light – beautiful thing #79.

This is a Visual Realia post.