Ontario is being good to me: I bought a lovely little crate of Ontario strawberries today, redolent with ripe berry sweetness.
On Sunday, saffronjan and John generously drove me out to a box store to buy boxes. We were nearly back - two sides of a block away from my house - when the annual parish procession of a local Portugese Catholic church interrupted our progress. They were heading rapidly for my street, dressed in more than their Sunday best, with golden crowns, girls dressed as angels, and a big marching band. I knew how little time we had. John veered left and we raced around the greater block, barred at all turns by one-way streets running the wrong direction. With seconds to spare before the police blocked off my road, we turned onto it and parked, just in time to watch the vision of lace, satin, shinyness, and music pass by.
I had the dubious pleasure today of declaring for customs that the contents of a box included "used soap".
The collection of our boxes and armchair on Wednesday went smoothly, by and large. One guy and a large mini-van showed up, but he managed to fit nearly everything into the vehicle, returning only for the chair. The one problem was successfully putting the fire door back on its hinges so it would close. Happily, by that point, everything was loaded.