Louisiana Tuesday in Southwestern Ontario

Greetings and warm and sticky salutations from Sarnia, Ontario on this ridiculously hot October day. Espresso (The Magnificent) (a moniker awarded the morning he had not pooped in the living room of our new apartment home) and I walked in the humid breezes of the tropics down by the St. Clair river this morning before dawn. Two cotton t-shirts and capri pants were too much. I’m now in shorts. I have put one t-shirt back on. The dog may be contemplating a buzz cut; I’m not going to wake him to ask him. The ceiling fans that were in the apartment when I rented it are proving a wonderful bonus.

I am, alas, a human humidometer. And after this sizzling summer, complete with life turned excitingly and yet also stressfully upside-down, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF SWEATING THROUGH EVERYTHING INSTANTANEOUSLY ALL DAY AND NIGHT.

I’M TIRED OF HAVING A DRIPPING HEAD!

I DID NOT RETIRE TO NEW ORLEANS ON PURPOSE.

WHEN IS A PROPER CANADIAN AUTUMN GOING TO GET HERE?!? EH?!?

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I had a lot of great iced coffee yesterday and slept in fits and starts. It gave me time for philosophy:

1. Sarnia is a cigarette smoking town, and a great proportion of those smokers live in the same building I do, and exhale nicotine fumes in the hallway outside my apartment. From whence said fumes seep in and make me cough. How long has it been since I’ve been nicotined? Ages. A cheap partial remedy has failed. I will soon seek a different kind of door insulating strip foam tape thingy.

2. Sleeplessness creates discombobulation that leads to mistakes. I thought, for instance, and most erroneously, that a couple of random and perhaps overly-inebriated arseholes somewhere down on the street, yelling across great distances at one another in the middle of the night every night, was the most irritating thing a person could hear from the comfort of her hot bedroom, but I was wrong. The most irritating thing is a single pop can being buffeted incessantly on the rooftop parking lot surface in an unending, eddying, random wind. Just when you think the racket is over … 

3. The excellent CBC News App has used a completely hilarious photo to illustrate the discovery of some bones in a parking lot of my home town, Guelph:
Yes. It’s the exit booth. Of a parking lot. On Baker Street. From the DO NOT ENTER side.

Of all the shots from any of the devices that take images in 2016, this is what the CBC chose.

I feel so much better about my characteristically wanting pics now.

Time to go hunt me down one pop can.

About blawggblawgg

Middle-age crisis #1 averted with massive life change. Stars continue to wheel above. Onward! With joy.

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