Thursday, August 4, 2011

getting wet

Note to self: next time a guest comes from overseas, program some down time for the poor creature. Penny and I have been doing so much, we're a tiny bit tired - and the travelling begins tomorrow. Busy!

Yesterday, we saw a matinee of "Wishful Drinking," Carrie Fisher's one woman show. I was especially interested, as a memoirist, in how this famous woman turned her life into drama. She is powerful and funny, and somehow manages, with spilling too much, to convey the madness of her childhood with father Eddie Fisher and mother Debbie Reynolds, and her various marriages including 12 years with Paul Simon, her alcoholism and other addictions and then her diagnosis of bipolar disorder. "And then I was invited ...," she says, "to a mental hospital. How many of you have been invited to a mental hospital?" She makes the dark stories amusing and yet truthful. Not easy.

Afterwards, Penny went home and I went to meet Barbara, my editor, who had read a draft of the memoir. We met at the cafe at TIFF, which was surrounded by police tape because another glass balcony had fallen off the building, as has been happening regularly in Toronto - all the balconies registering their displeasure at our mayor, no doubt. Anyway, our meeting went well - she had words of praise and words of counsel. And that's all I'll say, for now - except that I have lots of work to do, when I can get to it, which I am raring to do.

Today, as you've seen in the pix, Louise and Corey took us to Niagara Falls. We left at 7.30 a.m., got there just as the Maid of the Mist was starting so had no line up, ate a lovely lunch at Niagara on the Lake, and got back by 2, avoiding rush hour both ways. Pretty damn smart.

I think I've written about Louise and Corey before, how I urged her to look for the son she had given up for adoption when she was 16, and she did, and when they finally met, they were like twins. They offered to take me for lunch as a thank you; take me and my friend to Niagara Falls instead, I asked, and so they did. And they are like twins - it's amazing. After 47 years apart, they have known each other for one month and already finish each others' sentences. She told me how much she adores him and he told me how proud he is of her, how glad she is exactly who she is. What a great story. They're both crazy, of course; that goes without saying. But marvellous.

W*yson came over with a friend for a visit, and then Annie came for dinner, another British friend to meet Penny and tell her how horrible Canadian winters are without the right boots and down coat. I've been rushing around getting the house ready for our departure, compiling piles of train tickets and theatre tickets. My son is coming to catsit and water the garden - we leave for Stratford tomorrow, see a matinee as soon as we arrive, and then on Saturday see a lecture and two more shows, dinner both nights with our hosts Lani and Maurice. Back Sunday afternoon, one evening to get ready and then we're off again, to Montreal and Ottawa. Penny cannot accuse me of under-programming her stay.

This is what summers are for!

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