I am taking the day off to do – research! See you next week.

Sue

Next weekend Toronto hosts the revival of Doors Open, an annual tradition that has been on hold, like so many other things, for the past 2 years. During that time, I have written about lots of buildings around our great city; ones with historic relevance, ones that are part of eccentric neighbourhoods, ones with artistic features. So what to write about this year?

In Saturday’s Globe and Mail, Elizabeth Renzetti had the answer. Her headline caught my eye: ” Public washrooms Should Be Figured Into People’s Reckoning of a Great City.” Renzetti points out that public washrooms are key to allowing people full access to their city. Consider families with small kids, tourists in a hurry to see everything before their bus departs, business people running between appointments, oldies like us who have to pee every 2 hours. How else are we able to venture very far from our homes?

There are elegant washrooms in many public spaces such as shopping venues. One of my favourites is at Yorkdale Mall. The wall tiles are glazed in a lovely shade of turquoise, the sinks have sink-sized water walls, and quiet music – all these features create a very relaxing visit. I also found a washroom in the same mall with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a TV! I’m not sure why somebody would want to camp out in a public washroom to watch old re-runs of Downton Abbey, but hey….

However, a lot of these public washrooms are not really available to the public. The premise is that you are going to BUY something in exchange for these services. I’m sure you have sometimes bought a coffee you didn’t really want, just so you could use the Timmy’s bathroom nearby. But many large families can’t afford to do this.

So are there public washrooms that are accessible to everyone? Well there are lots of porta-potties. Usually they are bright blue and come equipped with much odor and no toilet paper. You can find these lined up, row upon row, at outdoor concerts, fairs, or golf tournaments.

We actually had a porta-pottie on our front lawn recently during some road work. Not sure that it increased the value of our house. Another time we had a wedding in our back yard and rented the high-end version – white with little sink stations inside each. We added white bows to each door and voila – we were all set for 100 people!

For other locations, look on the internet and you will find apps and websites that direct you to public washrooms; ones near subway stops, on public golf courses, and around various downtown neighbourhoods. That is not to say that they are respectable – just that they are there if you are desperate.

So I went online to find the best public washrooms in the city. Number one is listed as the women’s washroom at Bayview Village Mall, a high-end shopping spot. The washrooms there come complete with chandeliers, gilded mirrors, and individual stalls. The stalls are all hands-free: no possibility of catching germs on the toilet, the sink, or the dryer. Another washroom high on the list is at Humberwood Park in north Etobicoke. It’s not so fancy on the inside, but the outside, designed by architect Kevin Weiss, is quite unique.

One public washroom Peter and I pass by quite regularly on our walks to Lake Ontario is called the Oculus. It was built in 1959 after Hurricane Hazel tore through the Humber Valley, destroying everything in its path. The Oculus, built as a “comfort station,” fell into disrepair and we found it deserted when we moved here from the country. But recent attempts have been made to restore it. The latest renovation has begun with bright yellow vinyl stripes attached. This new washroom is aptly titled ” Brighter Days Ahead.” We could all use some brighter days – and more public washrooms would help! A place to rest in comfort without paying would be welcomed by all.

Sue

PS if you have a favourite public washroom, please hurry and share it with other readers. We all may need one during Doors Open.

For many people this day is just another Friday. For some, it’s one of unfounded worry – what if something unlucky happens? But for the residents of Port Dover, Friday the 13th is a whole other story.

My brother lives in Port Dover so I have visited many times. For the most part, it’s a quiet little town, waking up in the summer as a beach resort. It’s known for its beautiful sandy beach and for the Erie Beach Hotel which serves up the best fried perch anywhere, accompanied by a side of their famous celery bread.

But on Friday the 13th something else happens: all the motorcycle owners from miles around descend on the town for a huge party. The party began back in 1981 when about 25 guys met up there. It now draws a much larger following. Friday the 13th happens on a varying number of days in any calendar year. For example, next year there are 2 – one in January which probably will not be well-attended due to the weather, and another in October which is likely to be busy. But this year, after a hiatus of 2 years due to the pandemic, there is only one Friday the 13th, the one we had last week. No wonder over 100,000 bikers and families showed up.

Residents of the town know the drill. The streets will be closed to cars and there will be crowds, loud music, and the noise of revving motorcycle engines. There will be injuries too – this year at least one biker was killed in a vehicle accident. But there is generally a civilized atmosphere. According to the residents, the bikers are very polite; apologizing for stepping on toes or bumping into people, something really hard to avoid in these massive crowds.

One year Peter and I attended this event. We had to drive there the day before and stay overnight. We wandered downtown the next morning, jostling and pushing our way forward. We visited the vendors and stared at all the bike merchandise; every bell and whistle that a biker would dream of. We gawked at the bikes, some of them worth thousands of dollars. Our jaws dropped as we took in the outfits: garish for sure and often erotic – chaps with no rear end. How comfortable would that be on a hot bike seat?

On our way back to my brother’s house, he suggested that we take a short-cut – through the Hell’s Angels campground! Peter and I pictured ourselves tied up in a tent, interrogated, possibly tortured, and then thrown in Lake Erie with weights tied around our ankles. Agghhh! But my brother assured us he had made this trek before and it was safe. And it was. The bikers even engaged in some small talk with us: “Nice day, eh?” and so on. We survived!

How do the citizens of Dover feel about this regular invasion of their town? The businesses are very happy. The service clubs, like the Kinsmen and the Lions, host food trucks and campgrounds. The hotels, bars and restaurants are bustling. One store, that sells Friday the 13th kitsch all year round, has line-ups around the block. And the beer store? Well you can guess the answer to that!

So next time you are wondering how to avoid bad luck on a Friday the 13th, try your luck in Port Dover. You don’t need a Harley; even a scooter will work.

Sue

PS Thank you to my sister-in-law Kathy for the great photos.

Dear readers, I hope that you have enjoyed the stories about Missy and Sissy; the 2 mice we have been babysitting while our grand daughter and her parents are visiting in New Zealand. I’m sorry to tell you that those stories are finished.

After Missy died of old age in February, her sister Sissy managed quite well on her own as a single lady. Who says we girls aren’t resilient? She tidied up the bedroom and added lots of paper and bedding to keep herself warm. She got to spend time in a wheel that had been Missy’s exclusive territory. She ate all the nuts and seeds that she was offered. But a few days ago she started sleeping curled up in a corner, instead of in her bed. She seemed a little lethargic. I coaxed her: “Sissy you can do it!” But she couldn’t.

So now Sissy has joined Missy in the freezer, waiting for Agnes to return in June and plan the burial. I’m not sure what she has in mind. She does play the piano – maybe she has an appropriately solemn hymn in her repertoire. Then what? A double plot in Mount Pleasant Cemetery? A cremation with ashes sprinkled in Lake Ontario? Or maybe just a nice spot in our garden underneath the magnolia tree.

I never thought I would be babysitting mice inside my home. I always thought of mice as rodents in the garage that were caught in traps and flushed. But I have to confess that I miss those cute little girls. They became a part of my routine. Every evening I would visit them, say hello, check their water and food bowls and add a few treats. On Sunday mornings I would clean out their cage, rearranging the tubes, the wheels, the bridge, the teeter-totter. Then I’d watch them scurry around, investigating the new arrangement. They were so excited – just like Christmas! Our house seems a little empty without them.

Bot Not For Long! We have heard that my son James and his wife are going to the Philippines to visit relatives – and they need a babysitter for their dog, Venus. Now Venus is no tiny mouse. She is Big – 100 lbs. She arrives with a suitcase full of treats, large food and water bowls, a raincoat, a collar and leash, and Two beds!

The last time Venus came to stay, she brought only her night-time bed for the bedroom. When we watched tv at night in the living room, she would lie on the floor, clearly uncomfortable. She would toss and turn, snort and sniffle, and finally get up and head towards the bedroom, looking back at me to follow her. But it was only 9:00 and I didn’t want to go to bed yet! She would slump back down on the floor, disgusted with my attitude. So this time she is bringing her daytime bed too, for the living room. I can just picture it: she will be snoring on the daytime bed, Peter will be snoring in his La Z Boy chair, and I’ll be trying to hear the news on TV.

Venus is very good company. She listens carefully when I talk, tilting her head sideways so she can hear better. In just one day she can chase all the squirrels out of the back yard. She delights in entertaining the neighbours’ cat Minou, and she happily cleans up any leftover food, especially if it drops on the floor by mistake. A very helpful guest.

It looks like we have traded two tiny mice for one huge dog. Stay tuned for updates.

Sue

So what are you going to be doing at 7:30 tonight? Could it be that you will be glued to the TV watching Mattea Roach win another round of Jeopardy!?

We Canadians have trivia in our genes. The world-famous game, Trivial Pursuit, was created by 3 local folks. One of them, Ed Werner, was a neighbour of a friend in Niagara On The Lake. He delighted in entertaining people with stories of how the 3 young guys would sit around somebody’s dining room table, (probably drinking beer and) making up trivial questions. Little did they know that they would all become millionaires from this silly pastime.

Then there’s Alex Trebek, the celebrity host of Jeopardy! for 37 years. Alex was born in Sudbury, to a father who had emigrated from Ukraine and a French mother, the perfect multicultural family. His first job was with CBC hosting the news. He moved on to hosting the high school game show, Reach For the Top. It was a kind of general knowledge program, a forerunner of the trivial pursuit era. Next, Alex moved to the US where he became an American citizen and the game show host. After his death, the final episode of Jeopardy!, with Alex as host, aired in January, 2021.

These days Ken Jennings, the highest winning contestant on the show, is now the stand-in host. And that brings us to Mattea Roach. Born in Halifax and educated at U of T, Mattea has won more games than any other Canadian contestant, and most American contestants too! Her parents, interviewed on CBC, said that she knew the letters of the alphabet at 18 months, and could read at age 3. Still, at 23, she has only had 20 years to amass all that knowledge. Last night she answered questions about reptiles, hairstyles, the Boston Tea Party, Shakespeare, congressional bills, the Virgin Islands, and Louis the 13th. Incredible!

Mattea is also a superstar at strategy. She hangs onto that button for dear life and often presses it before the topic is announced; she is that sure of her answers. She knows how to bet too, winning one game last week by $1.00. Her total winnings to date are almost $500,000. She says she will use the money to pay off her student loans, and maybe the loans of friends and family too! She is now the 5th-highest winning contestant on Jeopardy!

So tonight at 7:30, try your hand at trivia and cheer on our current Canadian hero. No need to drive anywhere at night, no chance of picking up Covid from others, a fridge and a bathroom nearby: the perfect entertainment.

Sue

Nobody disputes that Zoom has been a lifesaver during the pandemic.

Sure, we all complained when we first started Zooming around. It was hard to learn how to join with audio, how to use breakout rooms, how to raise your hand virtually, and especially how to mute your mic when you are yelling at your partner to bring you a coffee. But we easily figured out the tricks: wearing a nice jacket over your pyjamas, and drinking your wine out of an opaque water bottle. Zoom has given us a germ-free world inside the safety of our homes.

I’m currently enrolled in 2 Zoom courses; they are both entertaining and often amusing. I follow a fitness class at 9:15 on Mondays. I believe this is a good way to get the week started. The instructor, Sean, sees things differently. There I am, ready with my weights and water and where is Sean? Well he usually shows up around 9:25. He is mostly in a rented studio, but during the Easter break he visited his sister and used her living room for the class. I had trouble focusing, as I studied her home and noticed that her tropical plants needed watering. Should I tell Sean?

Last week Sean had a new student join – his cat Gus. Gus, a tabby house cat, rubbed against Sean’s legs as he led us in some balancing poses. Next Sean got out the stretch bands and Gus got on a nearby table so he could bat at the bands as they flew around. Then Sean lay on the floor for some abdominal exercises and Gus climbed in his lap and fell asleep! Now that was a dangerous example for the rest of us who were also ready for a nap.

My other Zoom class is Italian. I have been studying Italian since the pandemic began and I must admit that this pandemic will have to last a few more years if I am to become fluent. I have switched teachers twice. The first time was because the class was progressing too quickly while I needed to go backwards. (This is hard for a former teacher to admit!). The second class was on Monday evenings at dinnertime and I found it difficult to cook, eat, and study all at once.

So now I’m in a new morning class with a new teacher. Letizia doesn’t have a cat; she has a dog – a very barky dog. When he gets into one of his moods, she has to go into the other room and cuddle him on the couch till he settles down. She also has a husband who brings her snacks throughout the class. And she doesn’t even have to yell at him to get this service! The first class went very well except that I set up in the TV room where Peter wanted to watch TV and soon I was getting calls from the other students to “mute.”

The second class was even more interesting: it turned out that 2 of the students had Covid and were lying in their beds or relaxing on the couch in their pyjamas, their kleenex boxes and pills on the table beside them. Then Letizia started doing a little sniffling as well. Not to miss a “teachable moment,” she quickly switched to medical words such as cough, headache, and sneeze. It seems like Zoom and Covid have a partnership going on.

Pace e bene tutti! Which, roughly translated, means “Stay safe and try some Zoom classes.”

Sue

When Peter and I moved from the country to the city about 3 years ago, our then 3-year-old grandson Ben liked our new house. He was fine with the nearby park and the local outdoor pool. But the roads? “Nonno, the roads are broken!”

And Ben was right. Our lovely winding tree-lined street was full of cracks and potholes. It was impossible to drive faster than 10 kph without bumping and heaving. We considered buying shock absorbers by the dozen. But then the pandemic came along and we weren’t driving anywhere. Mostly we left the cars in the garage and used “shank’s pony.” But in his spare time, which was plentiful, Peter began calling the local councillor about the roads. He told the councillor that Ben was not impressed.

Recently notices began appearing in our mailbox and on the hydro poles, warning of the new project. Then little blue, yellow and orange flags were planted on our lawn. Next, construction equipment was piled on the sides of the road: orange cones, rubber rings, metal plates, signage – all very picturesque. We held our breath in anticipation.

One day at 6:30 am cars began showing up. Workers with their yellow vests and their Tim’s coffee in their hands gathered to enjoy their first coffee break of the day. By 7:00 am the engines revved up and started digging. At least they began at our end of the street. This meant that Maybe by the summer, when we wanted to open our windows, the workers would have moved down to the other end of the street; we thought hopefully.

On the second day, the crew had worked their way down the street to our house. But nobody told us! When Peter needed to take the car out, he had to beg for help. Construction had to stop and the workers had to search for a steel plate to position over the gaping hole at the end of the driveway. Then the workers smirked and I held my breath while Peter gingerly drove over the hole and escaped. He parked on another street for the rest of the day.

By the third day the workers and all their equipment had moved up the street and we sighed with relief. For a few days we had relative peace and quiet. But a week later at 6:30 am they were back! A little to the left of our driveway, they began drilling and digging. The dump trucks lined up to fill up and haul away the dirt and concrete. When the hole was fairly deep, a worker jumped in with a flashlight and began searching. Then a second worker went to his truck and found a large drawing which he studied intently as he stared down the hole. A third worker got out his cellphone and called for help.

We were curious. The dirty dishes were waiting in the kitchen, but what Could they be looking for? Did they have a tip that secret treasure was buried right at our corner? Had a family of bears been hibernating in the wrong place? Most of all, how long was this going to take because we had appointments and needed to get out again!

A few days later all was quiet. Too quiet. We walked up the street to investigate. There was nobody and there was nothing. All the back hoes and dump trucks have disappeared, leaving behind a dirt-covered street with steel plates, orange cones, deep ditches and yes – potholes! We are not sure whether to rage at the delay or just enjoy the peace and quiet. But if you see any guys with yellow vests standing around anywhere drinking Tim’s, can you send them our way??

Sue

A while ago I started thinking about how to celebrate Easter on this site.

First I pondered on Lent. Maybe I could give up something for 40 days the way I used to give up candy for Lent when I was a kid. But now I don’t really eat that much candy. (And don’t even mention giving up wine. During a pandemic? Never). Next I considered making a cake – an Easter Bunny with floppy ears and whiskers. But the grandkids really prefer hunting for Easter eggs in the back yard, and the adults say they don’t need more desserts.

Then I wondered about dragging Peter to Germany to watch the Passion Play. This is a once-in-a-decade event, sponsored by the people of Oberammergau who, way back in 1633, asked God to save them from the plague in exchange for this play which they promised to present every 10 years, (and have done so for 388 years including 2022). The theatre holds 4500 people and the show runs from May through October. But Peter gets antsy siting through a whole Mirvish Musical. He might not be too keen on sitting through 6 hours of religious suffering.

The Passion Play is the story of Jesus’ life, culminating with his final journey to the crucifixion. The last part of the story, one of violence and suffering with a vision of hope at the end, is often reproduced as “Stations Of the Cross.” Sixteen stations, from the Garden of Gethsemane to the Resurrection, show the last hours of Christ’s life. They are sometimes set up inside churches, for example St. Michael’s in Toronto. There are 16 permanent outdoor stations at Marylake Estates in King City where visitors can walk the pathway, stopping at each station and praying or saying the rosary. The most famous permanent display of Stations Of the Cross is in Jerusalem.

If you don’t want to travel that far, you can make the pilgrimage this year in downtown Toronto. Several arts and religious groups have organized an exhibit of the Stations. Called “Crossings,” 11 of the Stations are on the University of Toronto Campus and 5 more are on church properties at Yonge and St. Clair. The walk can take up to 3 hours, or you can cheat, like Peter and I did, and take the subway part-way.

Each station/exhibit is a piece created by a local artist. Some are paintings, some are bronze sculptures and some mixed media. The one of Christ’s final hours on the cross shows incredible suffering, and a crown of thorns dropping blood hangs nearby. The last piece, “Resurrection,” is a joyful image done in pottery.

No matter how you choose to spend Easter this year, I hope you find time to be thankful for all the blessings we have (including vaccines). And try not to get too much chocolate on your mask.

Sue

Guess where Peter and I went on Saturday night? Nowhere! Now it’s true that we are old and often go nowhere on a Saturday night. But this past Saturday was supposed to be different.

Way back in the “before times” 2020, we were invited to an April wedding – Peter’s nephew. We were really looking forward to a night of spending time with family, eating delicious food, and maybe even dancing, (if I could find comfortable shoes). Well, you know how those plans went. The wedding was postponed to October 2020 and then April 2021.

The poor couple were beside themselves. They wanted to get on with their married lives. So they decided to hold the church wedding last April, with limited family guests, and then postpone the reception till this April – 2022. The church serviced last year was lovely, although the priest warned us in no uncertain terms to go directly to our cars after the service – no chatting, and definitely no hugging. Since then the bride and groom have settled into their new lives together and even had…you guessed it…a baby!

And that brings us to now – April 2022. At the end of March I went shopping for a new dress. I found appropriate jewellery and put some stretchers in my fancy shoes. I booked my hair appointment for the day before the wedding. As I drove home with my new hair do, I fantasized about being at a party where somebody else cooked the food, socializing with family members we have hardly seen in 2 years, and meeting baby Sofia.

When I got home and prepared to show off my new hair “look,” Peter was sitting in his chair with his new “forlorn” look and a thermometer in his mouth. Oh No! I got out the unused rapid antigen tests and began to read the instructions. It took a little while to assemble all the bits and pieces. Then came the nose swabbing and sneezing. Finally the results – positive!

Aggghhh! So what to do now? We called Pete’s doctor and got the instructions: isolate for 5 days and then take another test. If negative, then resume your regular life. As for the wife – isolate too and try to stay away from Peter – easier said than done in a 3-bedroom bungalow. We quickly became territorial. Who gets the upstairs bathroom and who has to go to the basement? Who gets to sleep in the master bedroom and who gets the couch in the sunroom? Who gets the big TV and who makes do with the little one? The sick person definitely has more bargaining power.

The next hurdle was calling the parents of the bride and groom to tell them our sad news. Imagine our surprise when they said that 2 other uncles had Covid too. The mother quipped: “By the end of the wedding we might All have Covid!” And maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Three vaccines plus a dose of the real thing surely means total immunity, right?

Peter spent a few days feeling sick with a cough and a sore throat, but today he is doing better. He plans to test himself again today to see if it is safe to resume his life. As for me, I am still OK. Maybe all that hiding in the sunroom worked.

Meanwhile we wish the bride and groom a wonderful life together. They deserve it after going through all those wedding delays. And if you know anyone who wants to borrow a brand new dress, suitable for a lady of a certain age to wear to a wedding, let me know.

Sue

Last week Peter and I went to our second movie in as many years. There were 10 of us altogether in a theatre meant to hold at least 200. Needless to say, we felt very safe. The movie was ideal – passionate romance, beautiful clothes, exotic scenery, lots of red herrings, and an elusive killer. We had just finished dinner and had to pass on the popcorn. But otherwise it was perfectly entertaining.

But it was not one of the movies nominated for an Academy Award. We decided to watch the Oscars on Sunday night anyway, not wanting to miss any of the action. The women wore the usual glamorous gowns showing lots of cleavage. Many of the men went all out, wearing velvet tuxedo jackets in navy or forest green, and there were a couple of daring guys wearing suits with decals. One had flowers all down one side of the jacket and pants, and another had butterflies in the same places. John Travolta had neither tuxedo nor hair. Imagine all those slicked-back wavy locks with sideburns – all gone!

There were the predictable emotional moments when old stars showed up: the 3 amigos from the Godfather era, Liza Minelli in a wheelchair, supported by Lady Gaga, a song of hope dedicated to the people of Ukraine. And the highlight of the night – Will Smith slapping Chris Rock, then blubbering like a baby afterwards, calling for love and peace. Despite cutting some awards, the show was still 3 1/2 hours long. Well past our bedtime.

We live in a city that is known worldwide as Holly wood North, a good place to film movies. Why? Because: we have a large pool of talented multicultural actors. We have thousands of professional sound engineers, animators, designers, editors, and other technicians. The industry has created partnerships with 11 Toronto high schools, which can be used as locations and for education co-op placements. The city has over 2 million feet of studio space and, best of all, the city provides film and TV tax credits.

So, with all those advantages, what movies have been made in Toronto?Here are a few:
The Shape of Water, a sci-fi romance filmed in 2017, won the Academy Award for Best Picture. The setting is supposed to be Anywhere, but University of Toronto buildings, the Elgin Theatre ,the facade of Massey Hall, and other streets were used to film this movie.

Good Will Hunting, a 1997 film about a mathematical genius, also used U of T buildings but substituted them for Harvard and MIT. This movie won an award for best screen play.

Chicago, filed in Toronto in 2002, also won the Best Picture award. It was the story of Chicago in the 1920’s and many Chicagoans were outraged that Casa Loma, Queen’s Park, the Distillery District, all stood in for real Chicago buildings.

My Big Fat Greek Wedding, filmed in 2002, used the Danforth’s Greek Town of course. St. Nicholas Ukrainian Church was chosen for the wedding.

Suicide Squad, filmed in Toronto in 2016, was the top-grossing box office hit that year and made over $784 million. This movie featured a plane crash on Yonge St and a helicopter crash on Bay St. Aha! there’s a reason for all those potholes!

And there are several other movies that have been filmed here. One to watch for next year is called Turning Red. You may have seen the trailers. It’s an animated movie about a teen-age girl who turns into a big red furry panda whenever she gets upset. This movie really is meant to take place in Toronto. You can see the streetcars on King, the eclectic stores in Kensington Market, and the CN Tower often in the background. No missing the location of this one. The director calls it a “love letter to Toronto.”

So, even if you are not a fan of the Oscars, you might want to follow this movie as it casts Toronto into the movie spotlight once more.

Sue