February 2012, Toronto.

There are a few small-but-playful flakes in the air outside my window.  I can hear the B&B owner (now my friend – I’ve been coming for ten years) arranging breakfast in the room next to this one –  we will sit there together an hour from now, eating from outrageously refined (and imperfect) 100-year-old china.  There’s a mirror over there framed in gilt baroque, and to my left on the wall an italian master’s drawing of a lion’s rump, framed more quietly (tho still gilt).  I love it here.

I am away. Far enough away to take a good long look around, not so far that I can’t recognize who and where we are.

From here I can see that we are dangerously mal-nourished,  and we don’t even know it.

[I removed a long rant from here because I don’t like publishing run-on-negative.  Broody I can be – dour, my dad calls it, but I prefer to avoid toxic.  Feel free to virtually insert your own rant – it’ll be as true as mine, perhaps more so.  Wall street, China & Tibet, pharmaceuticals, Monsanto, derivatives, the Greek tragedy of debt, the American tragedy of denial…. it’s all there ripe]

The sane thing – the brave thing to do is hard to get right-
Find a truth and tell it so it’s heard

so it’s told again

again true story gets told, again sent back through
like Newton’s cradle –
smack the shock through the unmoved ones to the last

who smacks it back through again

Some Tibetan monks are left with nothing but suicide as a means to tell the truth.


In the Pour House, just up from our funky B&B on St. George.  Black & Tan is 3/4 gone, and the stained glass toucan in front of me smiles with greater and greater intention.  He’s right – I want to say something.

My sister just left after an excellent day &.5 of wandering together as Us.

[Us, on this trip, included some mighty powerful people: Fran the great-mom, Dom the great-daughter, me and Lee, the daughters.  We were missing Anna, another great-daughter, but we’ll fix that.

o great toucan, I need an image.]

We were here

Two were here:

And the other two went here:

We all went here:

And we all went here:  , and here:

Oil and water.  Acronyms: ROM, AGO, TIX, TTC, CAB.  Our Mother Of The Perpertually Helpful.

Dear me.

We walked, we looked, we sat, we ate, we found and lost and found and discovered and missed so many things because we were mostly talking, but more than that, listening….

In two days I found the women in my family [save for Anna, who will come].