Beautiful Sunday Noon

It’s a beautiful Sunday noon, and I’m sitting in the shade at 1842. I’m sharing the table with a grotesquely large Americano served in a bowl with a handle on it. I’m pretty sure an average human would die trying to drink it all. That much coffee would reach toxic levels in the bloodstream. Actually, after testing the waters (so to speak), it turns out that this Americano, in a cup which I could comfortably plunge both fists into (without the steaming hot liquid in it, of course), is mostly water, with perhaps only one shot of espresso. None the less, coffee is coffee.
There’s a couple of “baby families” here today — somewhat of a rarity. Of course, both have strollers, and of course, both strollers are choking the aisles between the tables, forcing the wait staff to navigate the room like ordinance removal specialists in a Bosnian minefield. (sigh) One of the children is now screaming uncontrollably, but at least the mother has the good sense to remove the baby from the area). Unfortunately, now she’s brought the child to within mere feet from my table, and she and the child are engaged in an embarrassing “calm the baby” dance.
I got a morning page today; one of our servers went offline, and our office manager (who is always at work) wasn’t able to get her accounting done. I needed to go into the office anyway, so I helped out, then took my car to the GTO station at King and Northfield for a $3 wash. Now I’m just chilling at the coffee shop, wondering what to do next on this fine sunny day.
Yes, sunny. Sunny and warmish. The perfect day to do nothing at all, as long as it’s done outside. We managed to get some more yard work done yesterday, and finally replaced the tacky white newel post from the front yard. We replaced it with an iron lamp hook (or shepherd’s hook, or something), and put one of the solar lamps on it. Now we have a lamp in the front yard, without all the fuss and muss of hooking in an electrical cable. I think the house is the only one on the block with a lamp.
Many thanks to S+A for picking up a composter while they were at the dump yesterday (they’re free, folks). Now we’ve got two, and we can start composting all that yard waste we (mostly R) cleaned up this week. As an aside, I think these would make some pretty cool dog houses, if you don’t mind your dog smelling a little loamy.
The baby families left en masse, and now a cute punk/hippie/grunge couple has replaced them. That’s nice. Much quieter.
Friday was pretty cewl. Clevermonkey and I went out with some friends and relived the past for a couple of hours. We started off at A’s house, drinking vodka on the rocks (we need to get A to the liquor store, and perhaps to the grocery store too). We then walked over to the Starlight for a little while, but A’s new squeeze, the delightful Fiona (and her friend), wanted to go over to Abstract. Well, we got the impression that they wanted to be alone, because we lost track of them as soon as we got inside, and CM and I spend the rest of the evening waxing poetic about the old days (since it was 80s night — it’s always 80s night at Abstract). Mostly we talked about Toronto and the different cool places to drink on Bloor, and on Queen. I drank Cuba Libras and he tossed back a bunch of G+Ts. Afterwards, we walked back to uptown Waterloo, and parted ways around 3:30am.
I remember back to the 90s at Call the Office in London — they had a retro night on Sundays, called Raygun. A bunch of us used to fill the small club up. We’d hang out and dance to new wave stuff. The DJ borrowed my friend’s 8 volume Rhino Records collection of “New Wave Hits of the 80s”. Back then it was ironic to dance to 80s tunes. Now, I don’t know what it is. Derivative, maybe.
(sigh, again). Just got another page. Looks like I have to get back into work and setup some kind of test environment for a critical bug that just came my way. So much for Sunday.