On Tuesday morning
when I tried to use tunerr.com to tune my guitar it didn’t work. I accessed the
site and the digital image of the guitar tuner was on the screen but it showed
no notes at all. Fortunately it wasn’t a very humid day, so once I did get my
guitar manually in tune it stayed there for most of my song practice.
The soy cheese slices I got from the
food bank taste like horse sweat.
I took a bike ride in the late
afternoon. Cruising up Squires Avenue, just north of St Clair and about halfway
between O’Connor and Victoria Park, from behind me a sparrow was flying
erratically and low to the ground. At the same time an angry buzzing sound was
coming from its beak. At first I thought its behaviour was directed at me
because perhaps I’d ridden past its nest. But then I saw that there was a fat
bug in the bird’s beak and the buzzing was being made by the wings of the
insect as it desperately tried to escape. I’ll bet big fat buzzy bugs taste
like lobster to a sparrow.
I rode up to Tiago, turned right and
went back down Glenburn, where two teenagers, talking in Russian, were walking
their bikes up the middle of the road. As I was looking at them the one closest
to me looked back, said something in Russian and shoved his bike slightly in my
direction. What a putz!
I’d had a mild ache in my chest
since getting up that morning. It didn’t get any worse when my heart rate went
up and it actually disappeared during my bike ride.
I stopped at the first Starbucks on
Danforth and a very perky young employee greeted me as I came in. I told him I
just needed to use the washroom and he asked if I knew the password. I told him
I did.
I had to pass a very long line of
westbound cyclists on my way home on College Street.
When I was about to hang my bike up,
my upstairs neighbour, David came in. I didn’t have to remind him that he still
had my pilsner glass. He brought it up and told me he’d bring it back, though
he didn’t bring it that night.
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