December in February
In the words of a coworker, "The snow drought is over!" We're looking at totals of up to 6" (15 cm) before the day is over but currently the accumulation is about half that. Still enough to finally cover up all the dead vegetation, so we finally have the smooth white drifts of a classic snowscape. It's fine dry powder, so it doesn't cling to twiglets, but there are plenty of larger branches and conifers to do the heavy lifting.
I made a virtue of necessity and arrived early to Hyde Park on Saturday afternoon so that I could fit in a stroll before nightfall. Vivanaut and I only made it around the Point before he suggested visiting Bonjour, so I gave up on my hopes of seeing a bit of Jackson Park and instead nibbled a macaron of consolation. The next morning, it was snowing again, but I was in haste to make it back home and catch some of the winks I hadn't gotten the night before.
In the midst of all the new construction--the new Treasure Island, the Arts Centre, the monstrosity rising on the site of Harper Court--I was surprised by the amount of continuity. "Hyde Park doesn't change much", I was told by the remaining Snail Girl. And if that was debatable for the neighbourhood as a whole, it was certainly true of her stretch of it. Not only is Snail still there, but all the way down the line--Siam, Morry's, Café Coréa--to Kikuya, which I'm fairly sure played host to my first ever sushi-eating experience nearly twenty-five years ago.
In fact, "That's still here!" was probably my most frequent interjection on the way from Viva's East Hyde Park condo to the penthouse of
tyrannio and
innerdoggie. Even though he told that Larry had semi-retired from Valois, I spotted him through the window, looking much greyer but as robust as ever. Back at Snail, Femme One's hair is still lustrous black, even if the face it frames is a bit more lined. "You look exactly the same!" she cooed when she saw me, politely overlooking the whitening hairs of my beard.
trom and
kcat, she asked about you. And
qwrrty and
keyne, and Nuphy of course, among others. Meanwhile, Butch One has gone back to Thailand, putting paid to our notions of them being a couple (or at least overlaying them with the much sadder idea of a breakup). I promised her to drag Nuphy down once it gets warm and upbraided her for ruining all other Thai restaurants for me. Still the best tom yum and sai krok isarn in the city (and likely the best khao soy as well, but there was a limit to what I could gobble down in one sitting).
I made a virtue of necessity and arrived early to Hyde Park on Saturday afternoon so that I could fit in a stroll before nightfall. Vivanaut and I only made it around the Point before he suggested visiting Bonjour, so I gave up on my hopes of seeing a bit of Jackson Park and instead nibbled a macaron of consolation. The next morning, it was snowing again, but I was in haste to make it back home and catch some of the winks I hadn't gotten the night before.
In the midst of all the new construction--the new Treasure Island, the Arts Centre, the monstrosity rising on the site of Harper Court--I was surprised by the amount of continuity. "Hyde Park doesn't change much", I was told by the remaining Snail Girl. And if that was debatable for the neighbourhood as a whole, it was certainly true of her stretch of it. Not only is Snail still there, but all the way down the line--Siam, Morry's, Café Coréa--to Kikuya, which I'm fairly sure played host to my first ever sushi-eating experience nearly twenty-five years ago.
In fact, "That's still here!" was probably my most frequent interjection on the way from Viva's East Hyde Park condo to the penthouse of
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