Sunday, bloody Sunday (or not quite)

Sunday started off as most days do, with some cleaning.

We then got our bikes and joined Lou and Deb for a ride around the city, stopping off at the Danforth for brunch and making our way home through the beautiful Rosedale suburb.

We walked the dogs. After about an hour we slowly made our way home.

And ended off the day with cheese and wine on the front porch.

Being neighbourly (sp!)

Keith is on a course this week and anyone who knows me, knows that the way to my heart is directly through my stomach (Stephan - NO FAT COMMENTS! Have a bit of dust). This means that I get a cooked meal every night and on nights that I dont, I buy it ready made. Cooking has never been something I enjoyed nor was I ever good at it. Sure, I can make something; but usually only palatable to me. I have this need to do everything well, I am extremely hard on myself so when I have tried to cook it has always been elaborate and complicated dishes that rarely turn out as Jamie (Oliver) would have wanted. I realised that simple is better. Anyway, there is a great little deli/caterer down the street so on Monday Keith got lamb shank and on Tuesday he got lamb curry and on Wednesday he announced that I had better cook something! So on Wednesday I bought a raw chicken, I really did, and I googled "roast chicken" and watched a YouTube video on how to truss and roast it and I did, I really did. I went for my daily run and when I got back Keith was sitting on the steps of the front porch with our neighbour having a glass of wine and a "kuier". I joined them, and so did our friends two doors down and two hours later we were still chatting and drinking and watching the people and the dogs walk by. Long story short - we ended up sharing and thoroughly enjoying my roast chicken (secret secret recipe) and roast potatoes. And a bottle of white, and two bottles of red and half a bottle of grapa. I have never seen Keith that drunk before, it was very cute.

Today I decided to try my hand at my culenary skills again, this time it was home made fish burgers and fries. Keith got home at 6 and two hours later there were 9 people sitting on the front steps of our house drinking wine, playing with Petra's 11 week old Pug, chatting to people and dogs walking past and eating fish burgers and fries.

I've noticed when I go for my run, or when we walk the dogs that it is pretty commonplace in Cabbagetown for people to sit out on their front porch in the evenings, when the sun is out till 9pm.

It still amazes me and I hope that I never take this for granted.

14 double vodkas drunk

I was supposed to go to a work dinner tonight. It's a monthly meeting and I actually sit on the executive committee. So much for that. I met a new friend for drinks after work at a local watering hole on Yonge and Bloor and 14 double vodkas later I had missed the monthly CRAC meeting. Come on, it's called CRAC for god's sake (Clinical Research Association of Canada).

I had a great time, we drank copious amounts of alcohol and exhanged stories about our lives and our partners. At this point I must pay my sincere thanks to Rolly G without whom I would not have this new drinking buddy and friend. You see David, I remembered, despite my state of inebriation. And I met Zara, and she barked at me.

On the way home I was fortunate enough to be on the same streetcar as Mr Crazy who was telling a story, and balancing on the balance beam. The driver asked him to please sit down and behave like the rest of the passengers but he needed to balance on his balance beam whilst he was telling his story.

It is for these reasons, that I am so in love with the city that I inhabit.

I got home and devoured the rest of the roast chicken in the fridge. Drunk sms'd a few friends in South Africa and it is now, time, for bed.

G'night