Today marks the fifth anniversary of the day we moved from the country to our house in Toronto. It was a big decision for the 2 of us in our 70’s to leave our quiet rural neighbourhood and take on another house in a big city. Was it the right one?

September 5th, 2018 was a day very much like this one – HOT. The movers sweated buckets and went through cases of bottled water. (They refused to drink tap). They also brought a truck that was too small and Peter had to rent an extra truck and drive it himself. A few things broke in transit including a mirror – which is supposed to bring bad luck. The “day” ended at 10 pm when we fell into our partly-made bed, exhausted. We barely had time to hope that things would be better in the morning.

Soon, though, we discovered that we had moved into another quiet neighbourhood, with several advantages: close to a bakery, podaitrist, medical support, drugs, and wine. What more does a Senior need? We have access to public transit: the TTC and GO are both a short distance away. When we choose to walk, there are wonderful places to explore: trails north along the Humber River where the deer nibble on new branches in the spring and the salmon jump in the fall; trails south to Lake Ontario where beaches and picnic tables wait for us in the summer and our kayak feels right at home. And on Labour Day weekend we can hear the Air Show right above our heads! Well maybe that isn’t such a big advantage…

As for the house, it is exactly what we wanted: smaller but roomy enough for the 2 of us. We each have our own bathroom and one relaxing area with our favourite sofa or chair, a TV, and a side table for our pens and paper to write down lists of all the things we might forget. The dining room is in between, and we meet there for meals, board games, and discussions abot how our grand childiren are doing and why aren’t they eating their vegetables like we did when we were their age? The house is perfect, really.

But it is a lot of work. There is the general maintenance of cleaning, which Lucy takes care of, gardening, which Peter the Farmer is happy to look after, and cooking and laundry which are my chores. But other jobs do pop up, or fall down, like the time, as many readers remember, when the kitchen sink fell through the counter onto the floor. Then there was the winter, the coldest on record, when the furnace broke. Three times. And there are the many escapades of Peter trying to tame the backyard trees using a wobbly ladder and a rusty hand saw. Or a time during the pandemic when we ordered a new coffee table, mostly for diversion, and then spent hours, mabe even days, trying to assemble it because 2 of the legs were shorter than the other 2.

Mostly we have tried to stay away from renovations or even major decorating. Our plan seems to be that we’ll stay here until enough things break or need work, inculdng our bodies, and then we’ll move. Meanwhile we’ll put up with the little things: the stained carpet in the den, the tiny crackcs in the bathroom sink, the ugly light fixture in the dining room. And we’ll continue to enjoy all the experiences our new life in the city has to offer.

Sue

Some of the adventures Peter and I have are not as successful as others.

Since June I have been wanting to write about the Toronto waterfront. Despite the fact that city planners allowed the construction of the Gardner Expressway and multi-storey condos on prime waterfront land, there are still gems near the Lake Ontario shoreline for the public to explore. On a recent Friday we decided to check them out.

One delightful spot in the east is Sugar Beach, which I wrote to you about in October, 2022. There isn’t much else to see on the waterfront until you continue west past Yonge St. along Queen’s Quay. The next place to explore is at York St – Love Park. I wrote about this too, last Valentine’s Day, when the park was still under construction. But it is finished now, and what a sweet little park it is! Beside the heart-shaped pond, there are animal sculptures everywhere. Kids often make a game of tag, running around and touching each one. There’s a lot of seating too – benches or tables and chairs – where you can relax or have a quick nap.

Farther west on Queen’s Quay are creative wooden decks resembling waves, popular with skate-boarders or toddlers learning to navigate on 2 feet. There’s a park reserved for cultural festivals, with something happening every weekend. And then there is the Amsterdam Brew House, our favourite waterfront restaurant. On our recent visit we were led to a new spot – a rooftop patio witih a view of kayaks paddling past, yachts docking at the wharf, and float planes taking off.

Then we visited the Salmon Run fountain at the Rogers Centre. This was one of my favourite outdoor fountains in days past, but it had fallen into disrepair, the empty fountain floor filling with debris. Then I read in a local newspaper that repairs were being made, so we went to see. I’m sorry to report that nothing has been done so far and the poor salmon languish, waiting for the water to rush by once again and propel them on their way to higher spawning ground.

Next on our list was The Well. I had heard about this unique condo community, recently built in the west part of the city, near the waterfront, or so I thought. I had envisioned water cascading from a well, along a water-lillied stream, towards the lake, in a park designed by landscape architect Claude Cormier. Instead we found a tall non-descript condo building, bordering on the GO train tracks, with no green space in sight. The only reference to a well was the slogan: “LIving Well.”

But there was one more waterfront gem on our trip – the Music Garden. Meandering towards Bathurst along the waterfront, this lovely oasis was created in the 1990’s. Famed cellist, Yo-Yo Ma interpreted the music of Bach’s Suite #1 For Solo Cellists, designing the garden as an accompaniment. He created 6 sections in the garden, representing the movements in the music. Even though we didn’t fully understand the musical-botanical relationship, we still enjoyed wandering through this garden paradise.

You could say that our trip along the waterfront ended on a high note.

Sue

Peter may have left out the “oh baby” part of the song, but he definitely wanted to go to the EX. We had only been to the CNE once in recent memory, when we took our grandson, Ben, age 4, to meet his hero Chase, of Paw Patrol fame. This iconic fair has been around for 144 years, with only short breaks during the 2 World Wars and Covid. It was time for us to explore it again, from a Senior perspective.

We planned our route; from the Princes’ Gates in the east to the Dufferin Gate at the west, with many stops in between. The first place we passed was the Horse Palace. In the “olden days” a visit here was a highlight; walking through the stalls, reading names and patting noses. Then we would watch the show, and cheer for maginficent animals jumping over rails, and baby horses pulling carts. But this year the Art Deco buliding of 1932 is closed to the public, diminished by midway rides and food booths.

Next we entered the modern Enercare Building. The Automotive Building, another beautiful Art Deco building from the past, is now hidden behind it, out of view. There are no sexy sports cars for us to sit in or huge house trailers to explore. Instead, this building is used as a ballroom for corporate events, while the Enercare building is pretty much a big shopping mall, with a few eye-catching floral fish designs near the entrance.

Then we walked through the Midway. It was just as we had remembered, with favourite games like Whack-A-Mole, Go Fishing, and RIng Toss. Many rides – the spinning teacups, the merry-go-round and the log flume – were the rides from our childhood. One new ride caught my attetion. It was a large Ferris Wheel roughly the same size as the one in Niagara Falls. I hopped on. The view from the top was OK, but it looked out over Ontario Place – a sad story for another day.

We made quick visits to other buildings we had remembered: the Queen Elizabeth Building which is now another shopping mall, and the Better Living Centre which did have some interesting displays about living off the land, conserving energy, eating naturally-grown products; lessons hard to ignore during these days of climate change visible across the country.

Then it was time to hit the Food Building. But, on our way, Peter spied a corn dog and decided that was adventurous enough for him. I picked up a slice of (cold) pizza and we ate at a picnic table – not exactly gourmet.

The Pure Foods Building, designed in 1922, is considered an Italianate architectural gem. it began as a place to promote agriculture and innovative food products. In the 1950’s, when we were kids, it was the place to go for free samples. Now it has become a giant Food Court, with offerings from around the world. We saw our Toronto population represented: ramen noodle bowls, shawarma, butter chicken, souvlaki, even K-Pop burgers, cooked alongside Kentucky Fried Chicken and pickle hot dogs.

We missed several activities featured at this year’s EX: a drone show starting after our bedtime, a gaming palace for which we have no skills, a Pink Floyd Exhibit we ignored because we could only remember one of their hit songs. We finished our tour with Goose On the Loose, artistic painting on several goose sculptures, all surrounding the Princess Margaret Fountain. This landmark meeting place was built in 1958 to commemorate the visit of Princess Margaret herself. From existing records, it seems that Margaret was the only Royal to officially visit the CNE. Many other dignitaries have chosen the Royal Agricultural Fair or the Queen’s/King’s Plate instead.

Finally we reached the Dufferin Gate, the west-most entrance/exit for the fair. Our day had been one of nostalgia, of remembering things the way they used to be. But there were lots of kids there – riding the roller coasters, clutching hard-won stuffies, eating cotton candy, and having the time of their lives.

Sue

Last Friday was not a Lucy cleaning day; Peter and I didn’t have to vacate the property. We could have stayed home to clean out the shed, empty our email inboxes, or kill ants on the patio. There were lots of exciting opportunities. But we weren’t interested – because the kayak was calling to us from the garage.

We hadn’t been out in our kayak since the early spring. Friday’s weather forecast was perfect – sunny but cool with a little breeze, and calm waters. We knew the routine almost by heart. We gathered up our water bottles, sun screen, a little cash for lunch, and a couple of apples to sustain us.

We wiped the spider webs out of the boat and found the paddles and life jackets. After a couple of tries, we figured out where to place the rolling wheels under the kayak, and we set off down the sidewalk. As usual, there were stares and comments. “That’s a pretty unusual bundle buggy!” Or “Do you need directions to the river?” Or, from a little boy: “Mommy can I have a ride in that?”

Setting out on our adventure

Paddling down the Humber River towards Lake Ontario, we came across spots where it was hard to believe we were in the middle of the largest city in Canada. Birds graced the shoreline. Traffic jams were easy to pass. We floated along peacefully, listening to the sounds of nature.

Traffic jam on the Humber

Soon Palace Pier came into view, and then the Humber Bridge. We turned left into the inner channel of the lake, where the water was calm and swans joined us on our trip. We paddled towards Sunnyside Beach where we could safely land our kayak and get out without looking too ah… old. We could use the clean public washrooms and then walk to Pizza Pizza for lunch.

I know Pizza Pizza is not what you were imagining. It should be a little beach cafe with tropical drinks and fish tacos. But hey life is not perfect. And we were not perfect either in our damp kayak clothes and our rubber water shoes. Pizza Pizza would have to do. Except – when we got to the order desk, there was a big sign: No Cash! Only debit or credit. Oops – a small wrinkle in our plans.

The waitress would not budge on payment options. But she said our cash would be accepted at the restaurant in the Sunnyside Pavilion. Now, Sunnyside is a beautiful 1922 heritage building with a long history as an event venue and entertainment facility. The hospitality is know to be impeccable. We approached the front desk feeling a little out of place in our life jackets and water shoes.

Then we asked to see a menu. As you can imagine, the pizza is gourmet and costs $25-$30. Even the cheapest burger is $19. Add in the tax and tip and we would be washing dishes berfore we got out of there. We left the menu on the desk and turned away, heads up, pretending we had been slighted.

Near the kayak we found a picnic table where we ate our apples and drank some water. Then we paddled back towards Etobicoke where there were leftovers in the fridge for lunch. It had ben an almost-perfect day.

Sue

Heading home for lunch

Peter’s life changed dramatically a week ago. No, he didn’t win a pickleball trophy, although the season isn’t over yet. And No, he didn’t grow record-breaking zucchini, although that season isn’t over yet either. His change came in a little box and cost a lot of money…his new hearing aides.

When Peter and I first met about 20 years ago, I noticed that I got better responses from him when I was on his right side. One day he confessed that he didn’t hear so well out of his left ear. So, in theatres, at ball parks, on the subway, I always made sure I was right. And it seemed to work.

But gradually, over the course of the last few years, as we grew older together, his hearing grew worse. It became an issue. For example; in a restaurant, the conversation would go like this:

Waitress: What sides do you want with your order?

Peter: I definitely Don’t want fries.

Waitress: So what sides do you want?

Peter: I said I Don’t Want Fries. Can’t you hear?

Then we moved to our house in the city and Peter’s La-Z-Boy was put in the corner near the TV. But his left ear was next to me. This was not a good situation for sharing thoughts about the Jays game or the National. And, if I wanted to ask him about when he was going to load the dishwasher or put out the garbage, I got nothing back. I know you are thinking that maybe he was happy not to hear some of these requests. We seemed to be at a hearing standstill. Until…

Last spring, as the curling season came to a close, Peter and his team were having their farewell beer together and discussing summer plans. Somebody quietly suggested that maybe Peter would get hearing aides so that he could hear them yelling “Sweep!” and other instructions. There were a few giffaws from the others at the table. Well Peter certainly heard that. He came home, looking a little sheepish, and announced:
“I guess the guys want me to get hearing aides.” It was a done deal.

Peter made the appointments with the necessary doctors and the audiologist. We entered the world of hearing aide technology and exited quickly after we read about computer chips, and amplifiers, and converting sounds into codes and back again. Too much information! Our other choices seemed infinite: fit styles, receivers, extra noise reduction, wireless connectivity, and, most importabt, price. Did we want to mortgage the house or not?

After all the decision-making was over and the product had arrived, we drove to the clinic discussing some celebratory options. Should we have champagne? Or should we go out for dinner and try out our new little family members at a restaruant? The audiologist greeted us with a smile at the door. “There’s a big change coming in your life, Peter!” I started to worry. This was maybe a little too optimistic.

With the help of a hand mirror, Peter put on the new aides, fumbling around as he adjusted them. Then they disappeared. Truly, they were not visible at all! The first hurdle, showing his “disability” to the world, had been overcone. After a lengthy lecture on the various extras – case, charger, drying cup – we gathered everything together and went outside.

Peter turned to me in shock. “Why are those cars making so much noise? Do people have to yell at each other?? I can hear myself breathing!!!” We worked together to turn down the volume and he was somewhat placated. But, soon after we got home, I asked him a question which he did not answer right away. He had a wide grin.

“I put them away in their case,” he confessed. I need a break from all that noise!”

Sue

Our new family members in their charger.

Every summer folks in Ontario, as well as some from other provinces and even the US, make the trip to The Cottage. It can be a one-room cabin with an outhouse, or a $3 million mansion with out-buildings, or anything in between. As long as it’s a long drive from the city, and near a lake with sand and trees, it’s The Cottage.

Everyone knows the rules at The Cottage: eat junk food, sleep when you feel like it, read magazines, and get wet. Above all, have a few adventures. This year, durnig our family cottage week, we had several. There were lots of water antics on the lily pad, K-Pop dances on the trampoline, and 4 resolute swimmers who made the trip across the lake and back, accompanied by lifeguard kayaks. The youngest swimmer, Agnes, was 11, and the oldest, Peter, was 77.

A swimmer sets out to cross the lake

There were excursions to ice cream stores, a must for any successful cottage stay. And there was the annual trip to the drive-in theatre, to watch a movie while sittiing on the tailgate and getting devoured by mosquitoes. This year the movie was a girl favourite, Barbie, so the boys in their car opted to drive next door and watch Mission Impossible instead. They made a good choce because, in the girls’ car, a few people fell asleep.

One day a group visited the Dorset Lookout Tower, a feature of the tiny village. Originally built in 1922, it was a fire tower, but its role was made obsolete by air surveillance. The climb is a steep 119 steps but the view at the top is spectacular. One can see the main intersection, actually the ONLY intersection, of Dorset; with a bridge crossing a narrow passage of Lake Of Bays, and “Canada’s Best Country Store,” Robinson’s. There is nothing on your shopping list that you won’t find in a nook or cranny of that store.

View from the Dorset Lookout Tower

But the highlight of the week for some of us was the day that Sheila and Sophie, mother and daughter, went parasailing. They booked the excursion a few days ahead, and 3 more of us, including Agnes and I, tagged along, at the last minute, for the boat ride. We would watch from the safety of the boat while the 2 parasailors screamed in fear as they rose up and up.

We settled on board with another family, and took off from the dock. The other family’s grandfather offered to go parasailing first. I was shocked. He didn’t look nervous at all! His trip upward was uneventful and he landed softly back on the boat, with a big smile. A young couple went next and had no problems. They said it was “smooth sailing” all the way. Then it was Sheila and Sophie’s turn. No worries. No screaming. Really?

All this time Agnes was watching from the boat; her eyes fixated on the parasailors. Oh oh….

Clearly Agnes wanted to try it. I quickly announced in a loud voice that her mother would happily go with her next year. Agnes’s face drooped in disappontment. I was overcome with guilt. What kind of a wimpy grandmother was I anyway? And before I could answer, there were Agnes and I, strapped into life jackets and harnesses, heading towards the clouds.

Taking off…

It was a one-of-a kind experience for sure; peaceful and quiet, as we gently floated on the breeze, smiling at each other, waving to the people below, and loving the view. We wanted to stay up there forever. Eventually it was time for “the dip.” Did Agnes want to try “the dip?” Of course she did. Down we went until our feet splashed into the water and we soared up again. Then we landed safely back on the boat. Well I did have a little mis-step but the crew lent me a hand and it was all good.

In fact it was excellent. Cottage Country is the perfect place for making lasting memories.

Sue

I’ll be talking to you again on August first.

Sue

Before Peter and I moved from the country 5 years ago, we organized our furniture according to the floor plan of our new house. Most things fit, but somehow all the leftovers got sent to the sunroom. It was a real mish-mash of stuff.

But it was a useful room: a storage place for outdoor shoes and gardening tools as people went between the kitchen and the back yard, a playroom when the grandkids, ages 2, 6 and 7 at the time,, came to visit, a lookout when Venus the grand-dog was stalking the neighbours’ cat, and a greenhouse for some orchids I had collected and a plant Peter had tended for so long that he was thinking of adding it to his Will. Most of all, when Peter was in the living room sleeping, or reading the newspaper, or watching poker on TV, it was my escape room.

As I sat in my sunroom one day recently, I suddenly had an “ahaa” moment where I thought to myself, “This room is really a mess! What am I doing in here?” I started dreaming…in turquoise. I love turquoise; I’m a Pisces and turquoise is the colour of the Aegean Sea, Moraine Lake in BC, and, on good days, Lake Ontario. I started searching online and found a magnificent sofa in my favourite colour. I rushed to IKEA and sat on it, ignoring the fact that it sank and the cushions were all wrinkly. I couldn’t think past the colour.

I called my decorator friend Rosemary who went to IKEA the next day and then phoned me to say: “I wouldn’t buy that sofa for even a dollar.” She had taken up the challenge. Within a few days she had found me a sofa and 2 chairs. The chairs arrived intact but the sofa had to be assembled. Now I know that you have read far too many stories of furniture assembly gone wrong so I’ll just say that at the last step, as Peter and I were about to screw the legs to the bottom, there were no screw holes. We had put one of the first pieces on upside down.

After a few colourful words, we got it figured out. Rosemary came to inspect. The furniture arrangement was acceptable with a few adjustments, the table and lamp were good, the TV and stand worked together. Peter’s plant was reassigned to the corner by the windows, provided it was tied to a bamboo pole (no broom handles or hockey sticks allowed).

But the view out the side window – disgusting. And I had to admit Rosemary was right. Who wants to be sitting in a beautiful new sunroom, staring into the unfinished garage of the neighbour’s house, at his snow tires, cement bags, leftover lumber, propane tanks and garbage bins, to say nothing of the rusty chain link fence? It was not a good look.

So far I am happy in my new partly-turquoise sunroom. The grandkids are old enough now to respect the light-coloured sofa, Venus is getting too lazy to chase the cat, and Peter visits often to take care of his heritage plant. But Rosemary? She is on the hunt again for sheers, or shutters, or something, Anything, to block out that terrible view.

Sue

So now do you want to see the (mostly) finished product? OK then…

When Mayor-elect Olivia Chow gave her acceptance speech on June 26, she spoke passionately about growing up as an immigrant in an east-end community called St. James Town. This was her first home in her new country. And Peter and I had never been there.

On a recent Friday we took the subway to Sherbourne Station and walked south. We were soon overtaken by high-rise buildings, 19 of them, as low as 15 storeys, rising up to 30. The apartments were on a large plot of land between Sherbourne on the west side and Parliament on the east, with Bloor St to the north and Carlton on the south. They seemed to be rentals, some of them subsidized. This was clearly not an accident. Could it be the answer to Toronto’s current housing shortage? We decided to explore further.

With the help of a book, Toronto Art Strolls, we searched for some treasures. We found a forest walk edged in painted steel panels, separated by coloured glass ones, depicting a day in the life of a 19th century resident. We discovered a unique trompe l’oeil art piece on a brick wall and had to stop ourselves from trying to walk through to the painted patio. We visited a Catholic Church built in 1886 with a beautiful dome over the altar. We stared up at a mural painted on one of the towers which, according to Guinness, is the tallest mural in the world.

We looked high and low for a collection of steel animals on the property of a still-standing Victorian mansion. Finally we asked a clerk at a local convenience store if she knew where the fox and reindeer were. She giggled and told us: “No animal in city. This is city. You go to country – find animals.” But we persevered and soon discovered a wonderful collection perched on pedestals and hanging from the bricks of a beautiful home erected in 1881.

But all was not as it seemed in this little “art gallery” corner of Toronto. Walking farther south on Sherbourne, we began to see groups of unkempt, unshaven men, young and old, all races, most of them smoking cigarettes, some sitting on the curb, some wandering aimlessly. Across the street in Allan Gardens we discovered a tent city, and farther down at a church, a long line of food bank customers. How had this middle-class Victorian neighbourhood changed so drastically?

Apparently the first settlement,, called St. James Town, began in the 1800’s as a suburb of downtown Toronto, inhabited by middle-class families in single family homes. It stayed that way until the 1950’s when some Victorian homes began to deteriorate and were replaced by high-rise towers, in an attempt to attract a greater number of middle-class workers to the city. But the area lacked amenities needed for such density and the apartments failed to attract the middle class. Now, in the 21st century, the towers are inhabited by the lower class and struggling new immigrants. Although a library has been built and there are some green spaces, there are still many services missing. And inflation, especially the cost of food, is hitting the area hard.

Developers have recently come up with a plan that might help to solve this issue. They call it “mini-cities.” High rise towers are surrounded by, or in the middle of, shopping malls which include the facilities and services needed for the nearby population: low-budget grocery stores, dollar stores, immigrant services, medical clinics, a community hub for playing cards or gathering together with friends for a coffee. A home where living is comfortable instead of a box where life is bleak.

With a redo like this, could St. James Town rise again?

Sue

Possibly the tallest mural in the world, according to Guinness, is located in St. James Town