http://www.mpdailyfix.com/2006/06/w_why_blog_post_frequency_does.html

But wait a second. I’m posting about not posting today, which means, in fact, that I AM posting today. Quel conundrum. Not quite enough to make my brain hurt, but close.

I was feeling a little crumpled, and found myself submitting to spontaneous shiatsu today. The joint is called Otani Shiatsu Clinic, located on the west side of Roncesvalles just north of Queen. It’s a modest facility, but I wasn’t looking for glamour, I was looking for expertise…and that’s what I got. After an hour of Paul’s amazing acupressure, I felt restored and energized.

There was a resident cat in the clinic named Toonie. He was sleeping soundly in a plastic basket that was far too small for him…but he looked remarkably comfortable and centred. The most balanced cat I ever did see. I wonder if he gets feline shiatsu of some sort. I’ve heard of yoga for dogs (Doga), so why not shiatsu for cats (Chat-tsu)?

Clearly I’m still in some sort of shiatsu groove.

I’m out fetching mid morning coffees in the Annex for me and my friend Jeff when I see the lineup outside Honest Ed’s http://honesteds.sites.toronto.com. My first thought is…free turkeys! Then I see a few people walking around with festive Happy 92nd Birthday, Honest Ed! t-shirts. Of course! It’s Ed’s big birthday bash. I join the lineup. Jeff will have to wait for his coffee. I’m crashing Ed’s party.

Door crashing, as it turns out. I imagine the lineup will lead me to Honest Ed himself, serving up slabs of birthday cake shaped like a giant frosted Elvis bust. All of us are well behaved as we move through the line in an orderly fashion, winding up and around the store. But suddenly, the crowd starts to disperse. What’s going on?

It seems that the lineup is for today’s door crasher - 10 cent sugar bags. All are gone by the time I reach Ladies’ Wear. I look around. No lineup. No Ed. No frosted Elvis bust cake. And no 10 cent sugar.

I settle for other sundries, including a pair of 92 cent flip flops, a 92 cent bar of goat milk soap (my favourite), and a couple of Stewart’s vanilla cream sodas for me and Jeff. Jeff’s worth a buck eighty eight, I reason, as I select a set of six highball glasses that I know he’ll love because they were strikingly similar to the ones out of which we drank red wine the night before. He commented on their handsome design.

“Where’s the party?” I ask one of the festively t-shirted employees. “What party?” she answers, and disappears behind a wall of 92 cent shampoo. So I start to make my way toward the checkout, and on the way, I pick up a bag of five sesame seed bagels advertised for 10 cents. The cashier charges me 50 cents for the bagels and preempts my objection by announcing that “they’re 10 cents EACH”. Clearly she’s had this conversation before.

28 dollars later, I leave the store having paid 40 cents more for the bagels than initially bargained for, and no sugar, but a complimentary copy of the Sunday Sun. I’ve been going through Sudoku withdrawal, and the hit of three in today’s paper is just what I need to make the world right again.

From what I understand, a rockin’ bash unfolded later in the day, with free food and family fun for all. I’m sorry I missed it! I look forward to next year’s event where I’ll be sure to pick up some 93 cent provisions.

Happy 92nd Birthday, Honest Ed Mirvish…Toronto loves you!

It was early…7am perhaps? I was tired, and feeling extra lazy driving past the ambitious cyclists, runners and amblers. My favourite spots in the park are the cool damp wooded areas, and anywhere where there’s water. I had a different agenda today, though…and it involved caffeine.

I parked in the Grenadier Restaurant lot singing softly, there’s no business like joe business… A fleeting moment of gloom washed over me when I realized that it might still be closed. Looked kinda dark in there. I nudged the door and it gave way. Glee! No people… but coffee was abrew…attractive to the eye and soothing to the smell… I didn’t have to take any drastic measures like leap over the glass showcase of pies and rice puddings to serve myself…a figure transpired out of nowhere to take my order. Coffee.

Oh, and I picked up another lovely High Park card with a David Allen photo mounted on the front http://www.highparkphotos.ca. This one featured High Park poppies. And now, my beauties…something with poison in it…but attractive to the eye and soothing to the smell…poppies…poppies…poppies will put them to sleeeeep! In the middle of a Toronto heat wave, there was little chance of a sudden snow sprinkle to wake me up. Java the Good Witch, however, waved her magic stir stick to save the day.

I planted myself on a bench surrounded by wildflowers…coffee sipping and daydreaming and people watching and animal spotting and nature loving and coffee sipping. Did I mention I was coffee sipping?

I’ll have you all know I can quit anytime I want. Coffee, that is. High Park, never.