GBP, GBP, GBP!

Today is the wonderful, wonderful day. Why? Because today Plin was born, some time ago.

Happy birthday, superplin!

I was toying with various ideas about me showing up in Philadelphia (highly unlikely at this point), and plotting to lure you in here (though I probably should conspire with more cunning Toronto dwellers to achieve it,) because I would really love to see you and talk and drink and watch Buffy (I understand that it is a recurring theme today.)

I wish you a very good year. I wish you the right balance between certainty and uncertainty (you probably should talk sternly to that Master of Chaos bunny), I wish you the right balance between old and new, hope and will, and everything you’d wish yourself.

Chance encounters

I love chance encounters – you meet people, share some bits of lives, have meaningful conversations, and then part your ways, possibly forever. I love making friends more, but there is a certain delight of having the small part of mosaic that makes up a person’s life.

Some guy I talked at a bus stop; a shoe master, repairing a heel on my friend’s shoe and talking about the purpose of the Universe while we were waiting; a lady from Ethiopia whose life was a reenactment of “Romeo and Juliet”, only with happier ending; a guy in RV who offered us hot coffee when we really needed it.

Yesterday it was a lady from Liverpool. We were going to see a friend – old for my husband, unknown yet for me. And we were to use GO train in the first time. We bought the tickets at the Union station, and were wondering at the customer service what should we do with them to get to Port Credit. At this moment this lady appeared (she overheard us), and said that she was going to Port Credit and would take us with her so we wouldn’t get lost. She brought us to the platform and into the train. Along the way we talked about Canada – in general, Ontario and BC, climate. We said that we are from Russia, she said she is from Liverpool; we said “Oh”; she said “Yes.” She elaborated that she did, indeed knew Beatles before they were famous and danced when they played in clubs. “Probably I should have grabbed one for myself when I could,” she mused, but then shrugged it off and said that she was quite happy to live in Canada since 1966, and having all her children and grandchildren here. We talked about working in a law firm, books, knitting (she was crocheting a fuzzy scarf in violet colours), and other stuff. Then we were at Port Credit, where her husband was waiting for her in a pickup truck. They decided that we would get lost unless they give us a lift, stuffed us in a truck, dropped us at our friend’s door, and disappeared.