It's odd that, though Toronto doesn't get typhoons-thank-god, it certainly gets typhoon weather, and today was one such. Grey, moist, uneasy fretful currents of air: and achey, oh so achey. More properly, I suppose, this is pre-typhoon weather before the real wind arrives and the horizontal rain starts. Only it didn't. The day resolved itself into the shimmery unreal sun that I remember from odd days in childhood and adolescence. Still humid, and made more unreal by the bleached-out yellow that the trees have gone after our dry summer. I mean, it's also 'try to remember the kind of September, when life was slow and oh so mellow' but certainly it's the antithesis of brisk fall days. And of course in such weather the allergies bloom like- well, like the bumper crop of ragweed up and down my street. Have finally had recourse to the heavy duty cough syrup and wait to see whether it has a benign or malignant effect this time.

Ever since the strawberry season started I've been having flax cereal and strawberries for breakfast. Such a nice change from overnight oats. But given the rate at which I go through cereal, I bought a family size box to save on packaging (and if only Nature's Path would have it in bags as they do several other of their cereal, I could save on the cardboard box too.) But strawberry season is ending. Fiesta had no Ontario strawberries yesterday and I know from experience that the imported ones are a pale imitation: quite literally pale, being white inside and tasteless. So I was pleased to find baskets of Quebec strawberries at the Palmerston greengrocers. I bought two, and may have enough to last most of the rest of the cereal box. Frozen strawberries are vile so not an option. OTOH frozen blueberries are fine, so I might use those when the real strawberries end. Can't say that I'm pining to go back to overnight oats, healthy though oatmeal is supposed to be.

Reason I was down at Palmerston was to pick up three Gladys Mitchells from the library. Computer informed me I had four but the fourth hadn't been shelved yet. In fact I had to find the third on the shelving trolley, and the fourth was probably still being elasticed with the hold slip. No matter: shall pick it up in a day or two. And have put holds on three more.

It's vulgar to rejoice in having Lots, but in reading I rejoice without shame. I wish I still had the oomph of my first year in lockdown when I attacked Mt. Tsundoku with might and main. Now all I want is easy reading easily come at. Thus it is that this year has seen me run through virtually the whole oeuvre of Elizabeth Peters in her various avatars, all the available Rex Stout, all the Ann Grangers except the Victorian ones which oddly left me cold, and am now happily going through the Mitchells that aren't in ebook form, because those I read last year. Some day I may find the energy for serious literature but for now, Mrs. Bradley it is.