As you may or may not know by now, we spent a weekend at the Fraser farm in Caledon, about an hour north of Toronto. They were not there. They gave us the key to the house. We have been there many times and are not strangers to the house.

This is not your typical farm, more of a gentleman’s farm. Nice large property, some of which has been leased to a local farmer who is raising cows. The house is spectacular, decorated with great taste. It is divided in two sections, the old original farmhouse, and the new addition that was there before the Frasers took over. The brickwork between the two section almost match. The new ones being, well, new, while the old show the ravages of time.

We have always stayed in the new section, in what is ostensibly the TV room. This is very practical, specially now, because we have our very own bathroom, a must for my condition.

I was incredibly tired for the whole weekend. Janet surmised that my white blood cell count was probably low. We had our last chemo session just 10 days after the previous one. We moved up the date of the sessions by a couple of days. I do not know why I ever doubt her judgment.  I did not think two days would make that much of a difference.

I pushed myself as I always appear to be doing. We went into Orangeville, which is a strange town, even for a country setting. A mixture of good and atrocious. Their main street is called Broadway, and it is that. Very broad. They have built a median in the middle that effectively separates one side from the other. The only places to cross is at intersections. They really should get rid of the median and let the two sides communicate. There are all kinds of possibilities there. All that is required is a little bit of vision.

We walked around town a bit. Found a delightful store selling household decorations, and jewelery and other stuff. A real mish-mash as you usually find in the country.  We were looking around and purchased a couple of items. I was flirting with the very young sales ladies. What else am I supposed to do while Janet is shopping?  I usually take pictures, but these girls flirted back.

One of them asked where we are from, and more specifically where in Toronto. Oh my, says one, I teach at the Riverdale Pilates once in a while. Good friends with one of the trainers there. Turns out the trainer is Janet’s personal trainer. Small world.

We went into town several times for groceries, or to just look around a bit more. I drove around looking for picture taking opportunities. None to be had. I also dove around the Fraser’s neighbourhood to see what there was. Lots of pictures there. Also took pictures of their barn which is going to be repaired before it collapses. Can’t have that, the cows live in the basement. You will see some of the pictures once I have looked at them a couple of thousand times.

We rested a lot. Talked, they cooked, I ate, talked some more. Watched a bit of TV, slept a lot. I am waking up really early these days, around 6:30. Not sure why, don’t really care. I can always sleep later. I wrote a couple of poems, the first of which I put on the blog. Designed a camera bag that I hope to produce. Going out this week to buy a sewing machine. Yes, I know how to use one. Watched my mother over so many years.

The weather was almost perfect. Hot in the day, specially in the sun, cool at nights. Stormy on our last day there. It was good.

My exhaustion was tiring to say the least. I was looking forward to walking a lot more. They have a large pond on the property. Always a good walk around. But not this time.

No weekend would be complete without an accident with the bag. I emptied it at around 3:00AM. Fell back asleep around 6. Woke up with start at 8:00 when my hand drifted into something gooey and wet and stinky. The bag had filled to capacity and burst at he seams. Stuff everywhere. Could not be controlled. All over the floor. All the way to the washroom where I started cleaning up while Janet cleaned up the sheets and floor and everything else. Embarrassing to have her do that. I know, that is what marriage is all about. Still, it is a messy proposition.

I tried to not let that ruin the weekend, difficult as it is. It just helps remind me of the fragility of the situation.

Overall, a good weekend. A good dry run for our trip to New York on the 20th.

One Response to “Thanks to the Frasers”

  1. I can help you sew the camera bag if you like. In my next life, I will come back as a bag designer. It's my big beef – why are all purses or bags lined with black fabric – so that your black book, black wallet, black sunglasses and black pen go into the abyss all the while you go insane trying to retrieve them. They should make all linings bright yellow or white or something bright so everything inside is illuminated. My two cents. All the best to you.

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