Archive for April, 2018

(Sing to the tune of “Hungry Heart” by the Boss. )

TreeTown, is of course, my tongue in cheek moniker for Oakville, the town where I now live with my handsome husband of almost 3 years! We just arrived here from our winter vacation home in San Miguel de Allende in Mexico, and it has been unseasonably cold.  As in, a foot of snow fell yesterday on our poor, beleaguered daffodils! But you know, all Canadians are hardy souls, snowshoeing to school & work, building igloos for outhouses, using icicles as tooth picks, etc etc.  

Whenever I come back to Oakville from the beauty and warmth of San Miguel, I try to think about what I appreciate about this place. ( Sometimes, like when I slip down the ice on our front stairs, I have to go a little deeper into that gratitude well 🙂

So what is wonderful about springtime in Oakville, Ontario?

Those harbingers of spring, robins, are so plump they risk toppling forward on their shiny red breasts. 

Reuniting with the sailing crowd, the gardening guild, my spinning buddies, the book club and my precious neighbours who are always up for a coffee and a chat.

Homes built in the last century have huge yards that, for a brief period,  are carpeted with hundreds of bluebells which are the intense azure blue of the spring sky and Lake Ontario.  

You can jog for 5 miles along a flat road nicknamed the “Gold Coast”,  where the homes have yards so big that the garden services guys need porta potties.   Now, I wonder if that is because they are worried that they can’t make it back to the main house in time, or because “The Help”, is not allowed to use the indoor facilities.  With so many bathrooms, who would miss an errant flush or 2?  Does “The Help ” say it all?


The Boys of Summer:  outside the window of the gym, I can see the intrepid paddle boarders in wet suits, going up and down 16 Mile  Creek (really a river) with measured, slow stokes as they push the ice out of the way.  These lads start training early!  By mid summer, they are effortlessly moving up and down the water, dodging sail and power  boats, and dazzling the ladies with their naked finely carved V shaped backs and broad shoulders. Oh my.

Apples, apples & more apples.   In  Mexico, apple choices are limited to those miserable & mean green apples, mushy Macs, only good for sauce,  and yellow and red Delicious, that are anything but.  There are Royal Galas occasionally, but the quality is uneven.  

So think about the average grocery store apple aisle in Ontario, where you can gaze on many glorious apple varieties that are still tasty, firm, and aromatic, even if they have sat in bins since harvest in the fall of 2017.   Pink Lady, Spartan, Idared, Cortland, Fuiji, Ambrosia, and the aptly named Honeycrisp. 

And not least in my gratitude journal, is waking every day to the sound of three sets of church bells and the pretty sound of song birds, all looking for love & like me, hoping that the snow will finally melt.


***  of course, nothing and no where is perfect.  So what drives me around the bend about living in Oakville? Beyond the wealth that permits a family to have a Mazeratti as a third car?  Range Rover driving, Lululemon wearing, Starbucks swilling, iPhone chatting, (while driving to hot yoga class course)   “yummy mummy’s.”  These women could likely run a Fortune 500 Company, but since hubby has taken on the big kahuna provider role, they are left to nash over drapery choices for their enormous, picture perfect homes which have stunning modern kitchens that rarely see a dirty pot or  pan.  (Whole Foods takeout & Pusatari’s Gourmet do very well here)  And does the idea of a room devoted just to gift wrapping make you slightly nauseous?  It’s a strange bubble out here.  I am still working my mind around it.

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