This is the photo I didn’t take of the Owen Sound Ribfest in a parking lot on a grey drizzling day, 6 barbecue companies all with giant displays, all crowing about their first place wins, tables in front of each piled with slightly grubby and worn trophies.

Flesherton Fling

The Fling was fun and whimsical and enough small town that I had to keep reminding myself that I am no longer a jaded Toronto fuck.

But I took no pictures, so here’s what I did when I came home.


I am not going to count how many times I’ve started this. I just know I’m doing it again, and will try to figure out why I stopped so I can fix it.

Is it because it’s big and uncomfortable? We’ll see.

Last time at the Hart House

It’s been a while since I went to the Hart House Beer Festival. Side Launch was pouring this year, so I took advantage of vendor pricing and took Katherine.

Gone was the CIUT DJ with his very cool chill beats. The food was good, but the selection was not nearly as extensive as I remember, and the best thing I ate was barbecued vegan sausage.

If this had been my first one, it would have been ok, but was found very lacking when compared to the others I’d attended. I doubt I’ll be back.

Drunken flotilla

A group of women of a certain age floated past my swimming spot, a flotilla of inner tubes, rafts, and small inflatable boats. Each had a beer, each had a laughing smile.

We talked back and forth until they floated away, their laughter echoing back to me as the river took them around a bend.