Monday, June 13, 2005

Hogtown the warm, damp, and interesting.

Och aye, I'm melting! This heat has turned me into the slug of all slugs, and I can barely lift a finger in this sweltering apartment.

The humidity is telling me what I'd look like if I lived in Britain's damper climes. Though ostensibly straight, my hair has a natural wave - too wimpy to encourage to greater glory, too present to give me sleek hair that hangs nicely - that comes to life in humid weather. Yup. In the right climate, I'm pale but rosy-cheeked with Ye Olde Victorian halo of curls framing an otherwise sombre visage.

But I'm only part British. At best, I'm Ye Olde fifth-generation-Canadian mutt, and I'm finally living almost like a Beacher. My husband has successfully talked me into walking down to the lake twice with him twice this week, and I never regretted it. What a beautiful area. Tomorrow, barring ugly weather, we'll do it again!

Last night, the boardwalk was packed, and it was a multicultural extravaganza! Normally the area is pretty WASP-y, almost enough to remind me of what most of the city was like whan I was a girl. But on a sultry, humid, overcast, Sunday evening in June, it was a gathering place for every colour, age, and fashion statement, and had the air of an amusement park. The air just buzzed with joy and conviviality, and the people-watching was wild. The smell of charcooal grilling hung lightly about, dishing out another nostalgia wallop.

Man, what a city. It catches me by surprise even now, after all these years.

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