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Spaces

How strange. The apartment suddenly feels so large.

The limo just drove away, C.'s parents inside of it, off through the drizzle to the airport. They've been here for three weeks, and it was a good visit. They managed to pack all of it up into the suitcases they came with, despite all the shopping along the way. There was room enough for all of us in the apartment. It didn't feel crowded. They rented a car and went on day trips, even took us up to Muskoka, and closer touristic destinations.

Yesterday, we went to Black Creek Pioneer Village, a preservation of nineteenth-century homes, filled with people and things in period outfits, including craftsmen and their goods. The watermill was right out of watermill diagrams, but the millpond was low (recently drained), so the wheel wasn't running. Today's drizzle will help fill it up. Everything was so clean, given it's in use. The pigs and the floors and windows and carpets were all clean. We bought a cookie, fresh from the oven, tasty and warm, crisp with oatmeal. Everyone who worked there who was over forty commented on the Latin on the t-shirt I was wearing. The printer asked what leaf from the bible he had on the wall - he'd been wanting to know for years (Gutenberg reproduction).

Today, however, I went off to prepare for class, and they packed their weeks away into suitcases. They'll fly around the borders of the incoming hurricane, and back home. When they gave the housekeys back, it was with a new key chain, leather embossed with the name of the pioneer village we visited yesterday.