Yesterday evaporated. As you may remember, I left Toronto in March, still winter. So my son Matthew segued into spring and summer without supervision. He got along very well, didn't miss me at all, apparently - "Good!" I said, "You'll get along fine without me when I die." But what about his clothes? His winter scarves and gloves and hats and mitts were piled up just as he had abandoned them. I sorted them out and assembled a pile for him to wash (have to get him some Woolite), and threw out some worn-out thing plus pants and stuff. We ate a bread-less lunch. (I'm helping him plan a menu for lunch at work, without sandwiches, to help him decrease his wheat-belly.) Then we went to a movie I wanted to see.

So did everybody else. It was the Civic, or Simcoe (in Ontario) holiday Monday and people were intent on entertainment. The theatre was full, including lots of kids, including some very young ones. Are you aware of INSIDE OUT? I've been reading about it. The five "characters" guiding the actions and reactions of the heroine are her inner emotions: Joy, Sadness, Fear, Despair and Anger. It's psychologically valid and the concepts are adult and sophisticated: there's a Train of Thought they must catch and they keep passing Déja Vu. Little kids don't dig that, but at one pint I paused to listen and they were all rapt, not restless or bored at all, just totally absorbed in the suspense of the story, and the humour. My challenged son got it and laughed a lot. Wow. You can look it up. I recommend that you see it.

Today is going to evaporate, too. We have to get ready to fly to Boston tomorrow, to visit my daughter and son-in-law (Matt's favourite brother) soI have a lot to do to get ready. Anon, anon.

Don't you wonder sometimes where you were when you seemed to be there? Wherever. I was recalling two excursions that I took to beach resorts where it rained and we had to sit under shelter until it was time to return to the ship, once by a boat assigned to pick us up and take us back to shore, once on a bus with instructions to the guide not to come back until suchansuch a time. Beach resorts are not designed for rain. At the first one there were no chairs, only benches at tables where we were served lunch, but no place to relax until we were rescued. that is, no lounges or sun cots, no backs to lean on, nada. I was stiff the next day and I wasn't the only one. The second place had chairs with backs but the canvas under which we sat billowed once in a while and sluiced water in sheets to the ground/chairs/people below. This is not worth describing but I recalled these two trips because of the guide in each case. Do you remember my report? One guide proudly pronounced herself a Catholic and I forget why but she sang and led us all to sing (on the way back in our rescue boat) "Amazing Grace". The other guide was very large, about the biggest person I have ever brushed up against. He proudly told us that he had lost 82 pounds and was now down to 502 pounds. He also told us that he had earned a Bachelor of Arts degree and qualified to be a guide. He spoke Samoan, his native language, so his English was a real accomplishment, too.

I'll have to go back and re-read my own blogs but I remember these two people very well, not the places but the people. When tourists say they've "done" a place, that doesn't mean a thing, does it? People make the places.