Partly as a going-away party for Sheila before she heads to England for a month, partly as an idea she and Paul had at the back of their minds for awhile, spent Saturday night at a potluck at their apartment in the heart of Kensington Market.
The opening spread. British tea sandwiches, dips, toasted corn tortillas, Guiness Cheddar cheese, etc. Missing: antijitos with guacamole sauce, squash-potato-coconut curry, salad, chocolate walnut cookies, greek pastries and chocolate cake.
Steve enjoying some food, in between attempts to catch airborne grapes in his mouth.
Brought along a bottle of dry, wine-like cider I picked up in Montreal. I bought five or six different types at random (see upcoming entry on that leg of the roadtrip). My first blind pick proved a good one.
A cross-section of those crammed onto the balcony, moments before the police helicopters swooped over. No arrests were made.
A sparklin' good time.
Later on, a few of us walked around the neighbourhood, winding up at Denison Square. We were warned to watch out for the guy standing by the bench, who was the nabe's most notorious drug dealer...the statue of Al Waxman. An old man chanted while banging a garbage can, the scent of pot filling the air. Stared in the window of Sasmart, astonished at the strange, dated variety of goods on display. Over-flowery watering cans, baby carriages next to Jesus on the cross, kitchen items with bizarre German names, bedpans, etc.
Nothing says ending a night than German ingenuity. - JB, some photos by SD