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the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Victoria Harbour, 2007.09.16

We left the Falls this morning for St. Catharines, where we tried to get breakfast at the Lancer. Instead, some other -- inferior -- greasy spoon had taken its place. Never had a meal so horridly swimming in grease (though one or two in the UK in the 80's come to mind as I write this).

We then did a bit of shopping, and I picked up a coat that my brother would later tell me was identical to one that he owns. Mari found some maternity wear, and we headed off for the Beacon restaurant on the lakeshore.

Curiously, we've been having the clearest weather that I can remember seeing in the Niagara region. I mean, from atop the escarpment, we could see not just the skydome and CN Tower, but all of the condos and other buildings on the waterfront, and many more beyond that. And it was easy to pick out buildings all the way around the western end of the lake. Pretty tragic, really, that clear air should be remarkable.

We met with Horst, Barbara, and Wolf for lunch, and I learned that the family has arranged a tombstone for my grandparents. Not sure how I was kept out of the loop on that news (I suppose living on the other side of the planet doesn't help), but again when I later compared notes with my brother, he said he was unaware of that development.

Leaving at around two, we got ourselves up to Oakville and met with the Mastersons. This was a much larger get-together, with some sixteen of us in all. I was pleased to see that one of the elder of "my generation" (she must be all of 23) has matured into a young woman, and has left the craziness of the teens behind. Alas, her mother has been diagnosed with an illness I know all too well -- gluten allergy.

We had a fine dinner, as always in Oakville, and took off after nightfall for the cottage in Victoria Harbour (on Georgian Bay). We arrived at around eleven, and all I remember doing is oohing and ahhing at the many stars in the crystal clear night, then passing out.

rand()m quote

Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.

—Oscar Wilde