Monday, 20 August 2018

Rosy Sun that Looks Like a Moon



            After I left the food bank on Saturday I was unlocking my bike when Heinz Klein came over to bump fists. He told me that he’s going back to Germany for a holiday soon to visit with family and to play music in six different cities. I asked what part of Germany is home and he said he’s from Kassel, in the north. I wondered if he has much opportunity to speak German in Toronto and he said he meets with a German group once a week. I told him to have fun.
            When I got home I put my groceries away and then headed down to No Frills where I bought four litres of nectarines (which didn’t go rotten before I finished them this time); two bags of cherries. They also finally had Ontario grapes, so I snatched up a two-litre pack of those. I got a pack of sirloin tip steaks for $10 and another of chicken legs for about the same price. I grabbed a few other things to make my life easier and paid by debit.
            I had a toasted cheese, tomato and cucumber sandwich for lunch.
            In the late afternoon I took a bike ride. At Yonge and Bloor I stopped at the light and the cyclist in front of me turned to ask me if the way he was going was east. I confirmed that it was. After the light changed I passed him and the sun shone through the thin clouds for a moment showing my shadow stretched out in front of me. I doubt it was the first time that the sun had popped through so it should have been obvious to the guy that he was traveling eastward.
            When I got into Scarborough, Danforth Avenue was closed off from Byng Avenue to Warden Avenue and about a block up Danforth Road for the Wheels on Danforth festival. It wasn’t an inconvenient detour though to go up Byng to Denton, travel east to Patterson, drop half a block down to Danforth Road and ride that up to Warden. I took Warden to Eglinton, went across to Birchmount and then went south. About halfway between Comstock and St Clair I turned on Anaconda and explored a neighbourhood consisting of three curvy streets and lots of almost identical two-tone duplexes that look they were built in the 70s. Once I came back onto Birchmount, that completed by exploration of all the streets south of Eglinton and West of Birchmount.
            On the way back along Danforth the sun looked like a big orange moon because it had no glare whatsoever. As I crossed the Bloor Viaduct it had turned to reddish orange and by the time I stopped to take some pictures of it on the bridge over the Rosedale Valley Road, it was appropriately rose coloured.
I took Bloor to Spadina and then south. At St Andrew Spadina was closed southbound for the Chinatown festival so I cut through Kensington Market and went down to Dundas. Just before Bathurst, near the hospital was a big open foil tray almost full of what looked like curried chicken and potatoes just lying on the sidewalk.
I had two eggs with toast and a beer for dinner and watched an episode of Mike Hammer, Private Eye. This story was about a basketball star being accused of murdering his agent the day before he was going to be drafted into the NBA. The formula of the show is that with every murder that Hammer investigates, at almost the exact point in the story of every episode he gets beaten up by one or two guys who warn him to mind his own business. Of course Hammer’s client didn’t kill the agent. It turned out to be another agent. Hammer sees the mysterious “face” again when she walks through the set of a sports photo shoot.


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