NEW address for my blog: illogicaloutcome.wordpress.com

Suddenly, I’m back! Back on my blog, at least, I THINK I am. Same old me, but new address. Now, I am writing at “illogicaloutcome.wordpress.com”. The other host never did reply to my begging, pleading and questions as to why I was suddenly persona non grata.

It is now the last day of August. A steamy month gives way to hopefully mild, gentle days of fall. Yes, I said FALL. Summer is seldom a good friend of mine, so I’ll send it off with nary a tear. Our yard hosts a couple of trees that are already providing us with lots of practice raking leaves. The culprits are the two Mountain Ash that guard the forward portions of our yard from passing traffic.

This is the weekend of resettling, as students prepare for school. This includes the older academic crowd, returning to college and university. This city has two universities, whereas Kitchener has a large college. That all adds up to the autumnal return of thousands! Some of these students call our little ‘hood home, due to the number of these little houses being bought up by potential landlords. Our house WAS one of these student houses, until we rescued it from inevitable decay. However, as the population ages, the declining health of many of our elderly neighbours ensures a steady supply of these homes will become fodder for investors. A predilection for flowery wallpaper and shag rugs practically ensures the homes future, as do off-coloured appliances. That which was trendy and attractive to our parents is distinctively not so now!

As I write this, I am saddened. Our favourite neighbours, a couple of frail 80-somethings that live around the corner are fast falling into an age induced mire. He is quite deaf, but was very active when we first met him. We would see him when we were out with our dogs, walking the streets daily for exercise. His hands clasped firmly behind his back, he would patrol the streets in our 4 block area in the early evening. He loved to stop and chat, mostly telling anyone that would listen, about his son the editor of the Peterborough paper. If you showed the due respect and admiration, you could count on finding a copy of this journal wedged between your doors the next day. Then, you had best read at least the lead articles, since you could be sure to be grilled on them the next evening!

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