I posted this photooo from in front of my Cubelandia parking place on social media this morning. As I drive over to work I am mostly driving into the sun and there can be some spectacular views but I can’t really take any photos if I am driving and usually by the time I get over there, the view has faded (or it has started SNOWING or whatever). Today when I pulled into my spot, the morning sun was still doing its thing PLUS+++++ there were water droplets on the grasses (probably an invasive species) from yesterday’s rain. My iPhone did its own thing with the little green lens flare thingy. And it’ll be a while (I hope) before we see snow.

Besides this one little moment, my last two days at Cubelandia have been a cluster-f*ck but I couldn’t describe that to you if I tried so I won’t try. It’s all fine. It’s nice to have some days like that to balance out the Rabbit Hole days, etc.

I dunno where else to go with this but I got some nice comments on FB and somewhere along the line somebody made their own post about the [long defunct] New Marconi Italian restaurant over in Soo Canada and that brought back memories of eating there and other places on that side of the St. Marys (no apostrophe) River.

Riding in the back of Duck and Radical Betty’s VW squareback across the International Bridge going back to the moominbeach from dinner at the New Marconi (no seatbelts back there and nobody cared), me and UKW were drinking the dregs from two big gallon whine jugs (yes they were jug shaped and yes we were 13 or thereabouts). Note that there was basically NOTHING in them. I think our parents were taking them home to make them into candle holders or something.

I can’t remember the name of the Chinese restaurant over in Churchill Plaza but that was my FIRST experience with Chinese food and we went there frequently. My grandma, an elderly Scot woman, took to chopsticks without instruction. The rest of us maybe not so much.

The Girl in Red on Queen Street always beckoned with its fancy pastries. I only remember going there as a small child dressed up in a tartan plaid skirt (we bought those somewhere in Canananada). That was back when we could WALK to Canananada. Park our car on the American side, take a ferry across the lower St. Marys, and walk up to Queen Street.

Later on when I was a teenager, we used to cross the bridge to buy fabric at the Textile Shop (on Queen Street). I bought the fabric for the gown I wore to the military ball. It was my first formal dance, in 10th grade, and yes it is a long story (or not) why I went to the military ball (boyfriend, of course). The Commander made my dress and it was fancy as all getout. (And I still have it.)

We don’t go to Canananada much any more. Going back and forth across the International Bridge is not as simple as it used to be but we’ll talk about that some other time.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 27th, 2019 at 5:57 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.