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Posted on November 1, 2020 by j.g.lewis · Leave a comment

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Mondays are just young Fridays

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J.G. Lewis

A writer/photographer living and breathing in the greater Toronto area.

original content and images © j.g. lewis.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.

a daily breath . . .

Mondays are just young Fridays

It’s not just the rain, but also the cold that begins to define our days.
Temperatures have been dropping, single digits overnight, a little lower each night.
It gets to the point where an extra blanket on the bed will not provide the warmth required, or a sweater will not take away that chill building up inside these four walls.
It’s time to turn on the furnace.
This is the time of the year when the lyrics of “No Time”, a song by The Guess Who, begin to stream in my head:
“Seasons change and so do I.”
The changing colours of my landscape are part of it, but the rain drives the point home.
It’s not just wet; it’s cold and damp.
And it will only get colder, and wetter, then worse.

10/25/2021 j.g.l.

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Mondays are just young Fridays

As the nightly temperatures drop and I am now greeted by a fresh morning chill, I am less likely to want to stray as far from home.
For the longest time, with its record heat, summer seemed to stretch further than it has in years. The longer days of summer were a time for exploration. Even with COVID-19 travel restrictions, I managed to get out and see more of my city.
Now I seem to want to stay put.
Autumn, with its ever-changing change, is a time for nesting.
I’ve pulled the sweaters out from the bottom drawer. I’m slowly organizing my home office and sorting out books on the night table preparing for more reading time.
I’m back to making soup, and comfort food, and all the things that make it feel like autumn.
Autumn is a feeling.
Enjoy it while you can.

10/18/2021 j.g.l.

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Comforts of Home

You can be yourself at home.
Habits, hobbies, and vices become part of your routine. That is one of the comforts of home.
Home is an expression of self.
Enjoy your self today.
Get comfortable.
Make it a habit.

10/17/2021 j.g.l.

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A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking.
They may get you thinking too . . .

Divided

Suburbia
                or the city.
We live where
we live.
The country
                      is large,

populated by
a nation of consumers.

Divided

by misfits
and dreamers and
some of us
                    who care.

Didn’t we all
at one time?

                   Questions,

we learn as we grow,
we forget where we go.

10/24/2021                                    j.g.l.

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where we live

The streets go in many directions.
Constructed of gravel, concrete and tar, the well-packed, well-traveled pavement is built to handle the traffic demands of the region.
One-way, two-lane, country road, or multi-lane expressway: each road takes us somewhere.
One of them takes us home.

10/21/2021 j.g.l.

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Cranes and Condominiums

They finished boarding up the car dealership across the street from my building last week. The warehouse next to the dealership has been vacant as long as I’ve known it, and the artists in the lofts on the corner have been evicted. Days are numbered for the restaurant at street level.
With all the buildings facing the other direction now shuttered, this entire parcel of land will soon be under demolition.
The view from my living room window will change.
Three condominium towers from 39 to 45 stories — that’s three times higher than my building — are among the planned development that includes 1,645 residential units, retail space, and parking for more than 2,000 cars and 1,000 bicycles.
Thousands more people will eventually reside right across the street.
This is yet another high-density development as downtown Toronto continues to go vertical. Within walking distance there are already many, many cranes and condominiums reaching up to the sky.
And there will be more.
Land in this area is being bought up for future development around the planned subway station and property values continue to rise.
I’m not sure you call it progress or evolution, but the landscape of this neighbourhood this is changing. This entire city is changing.

10/19/2021 j.g.l.

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Only Wednesday

Wednesday sits naked
and ordinary
waiting

between the bookends of social Saturday
and restive Sunday. The day is
little more

than a cluster of hours or a stop on the
treadmill. Indecisive and
lonely

nobody chooses a Wednesday. Nothing
happens
on a Wednesday

and it’s the same each week.

Sept 11/01, a Tuesday. London Subway bombings: July 7/05, a Tuesday, also July 21/05,
and also a Tuesday. Assassinations: John Lennon on a Monday, Martin Luther King Jr. a
Thursday, and John F. Kennedy a Friday. Kurt Cobain’s body was discovered on a
Wednesday, but he chose his way out three days earlier. Nothing happens on a
Wednesday.

There are fewer concerts mid-week, and opening night is never a Wednesday. They
never open the Olympics on a Wednesday. Nobody gets married on a Wednesday.

Yet I will choose Wednesday, or I will start with a Wednesday. I'll begin with a page, a
place where I can plant my thoughts. I have many thoughts, each week, every day (even
on Wednesday), but I will commit to posting something once a week. There are seven
days to choose from, and I chose Wednesday.

Now I may post something else on some other day, I’m like that (a true Gemini). If I am
moved or if I have time, if the stars align or the moon gives me a nudge, or if something
is really bothering me, I won’t wait for Wednesday. But I will post something each
Wednesday.

Something will happen each Wednesday, every week. Right here. If you want to see, or
wish to be reminded, sign up. There will also be a daily breath (usually 140 characters or
less) and it will not be limited to Wednesday, but will, or should, arrive every day.

Until Wednesday . . .

-j-

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