Slippery Slope

My first apartment in Wingham had a huge kitchen and livingroom, with a loft-like bedroom and bathroom at the top of a steep set of painted stairs. A few times, when my panty-hosed feet met those steps, Lisa went bye-bye. I recall slipping all the way down, my endless fall finally broken by cracking my noggin on the wooden door at the bottom.

Carted Away

I’ve made a few observations about this part of the province. People are nice here. Everyone says hello, or gives a wave. A man let me in front of him in the Service Ontario office and even though I told him I had a pile of stuff to do there, he waved me off and took a seat. Maybe they can afford to be nice because they don’t seem to be in as much of a hurry. Cities hurry you up, whether you know it or not.