I found something, that for me, was a buried treasure, only a
30-minute drive from home (that's if there's no traffic – if it's rush hour, 2
days). This 12,000 square-foot
greenhouse, which, along with all the splendour inside, features that rarest of
gems that folks in this town hold truly dear – free parking.
I've never even stepped foot inside the Centennial Park
area. It's probably very nice in the
summer. But it's freezing right now, so
I'm going inside.
This greenhouse, which makes the one downtown look pale by
comparison, has been around since the late 1940's. Maybe around the time they planted this guy?...
I love the cactus room.
Word to the wise though – that little sign that says "please don't
touch" – this is for your own good.
Trust me. Either that, or carry
tweezers.
My favourite colour has always been pink. So if this place only had a TV set and a
microwave, I'd move in. There is pink
everywhere.
No home would be complete without pets. No shortage of those here. Close to the entrance is a koi pond with 2
turtles.
Maybe there were more turtles at one point, but some got too
close to this guy...
I don't know how this tree-rat broke in. He's trying to hide, but the dirt he's tossing everywhere is a dead giveaway. It surprises me that he isn't doing what
every other squirrel in this city does – digging holes in my backyard.
And here's Angel. He's
about 12 years old. He often says
'hello', and a couple other words that I would never repeat, unless I'm behind
the wheel of my car. Angel occasionally
dances for visitors which is highly amusing.
Angel also occasionally screams his head off like his fingernails are being ripped out one by one, which is nerve shattering. (You get used to it after about a half-dozen
times.)
I'm not quite sure what the deal is with this 'fireplace', but
the room feels somewhat like a memorial.
Perhaps that's why there was a professional photographer there the day
of my visit. At least I assume she was a
professional photographer, since she was lugging around a camera with a 2-foot
long lens that weighed more than she did.
I don't really see why anyone would need a great big, fancy camera
to get a good shot in this place. I'm
just wandering around with my cell phone clicking away – this place is what it
is, and it's almost impossible to take a bad shot - as long I keep my fingers
clear.
Before leaving, I stop by the entrance booth, to drop money into the donation box, and chat with Alice, a volunteer who has been working here for 24 years. She has a background in horticulture, and taught the subject for about 14 years. She's a lovely lady. If you visit, say hi to her for me.
I also say goodbye to Angel. I notice, when I look at the bottom of his cage, that he is pooping on The Toronto Star. I guess that must be why all the horrible screeching. He must be reading the editorial page...
One Thing That >50 Me Has Learned Along the Way...
It doesn't matter how carefully you check the pockets of every
item you put in the washing machine.
Somehow, you always manage to miss one piece of Kleenex. Then you open the washer at the end of the
spin cycle, and there's your clothing – covered in tiny little bits of
shredded, wet tissue. I don't how that
wadded-up piece of Kleenex gets through inspection every time. I suppose I could just give in and buy
myself a large supply of handkerchiefs.
But why bother? I'm sure they would just magically disappear from the dryer
one at a time. So I guess I have to put
up with little bits of fluff flying off my clothes as I yank them out of the
washer. Does this not happen to all of us? Or am I the only person who has to vacuum
every time I do the laundry?
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