2016-04-29 Fri

Second Use For Everything (SUFE)

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So. You don heavy-duty rubber gloves for dishwashing and the longer you use them the greater chance that they will be punctured.

There are two punctures on the thumb of my right-hand glove. The right-hand glove is most susceptible because I am right-handed. It is my right-hand that dives into the washing-up bowl to grab the next fork or knife to be rubbed clean.

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The punctured glove is on the right.

In the centre is the left-hand glove of the pair; that glove is not punctured.

On the left is the un-punctured left-hand glove of the previous pair of gloves.

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Flip the centre glove inside out and you get – doh! – a right-hand glove.


Who cares what the colour is, right? As long as it is impervious to water.

Plus it’s easy to remember that “white is right”.

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What about the punctured glove? Well, it IS a right-hand glove and I AM right-handed, so it ought to come in handy, literally, when I need to poke around in the vermicomposting bin.


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I am, as you see, enjoying my new bread recipe.

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Nigella Lawson “How to Eat”, page 33, from memory.

Another day filled with activity


French grammar and vocabulary


Ryerson University for the papers


York Concourse (add cash to Presto Card)

1013 GO train to Clarkson


1114 GO train to Union Station


St Andrews Concert


Northam for WiFi


Osmedo for Spanish/English

In the midst of all this there was time to practice my Spanish with a young lady from Cuba, stuck on Bay Street, due for a job interview on Lakeshore. I escorted her (in Spanish!) to Union Station Toronto Transit Commission and grabbed for her a Ride Guide before thrusting her towards a Toronto Transit Commission information officer who steered her towards the 509 Streetcar..

My friend met me on the platform at Clarkson with a hot coffee and we chatted for 15 minutes before my train came in to take me home, or at least, back to St Andrews for their lunchtine concert.

Wasting a Toronto Policeman

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More on Gerrard Street (which is soon to be Closed, from which you infer that right now it is Open, right?).

Traffic is down to a single lane each way on this thoroughfare that serves as a conduit between, believe it or not, The Gardiner Expressway and the University Avenue hospitals.

The dump truck is dumping, the local stop-go guy is keeping an eye on things. The taxi is waiting.

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Oh look! We are paying a Cop probably at least four times what we are paying the top-go-guy.

The cop’s job is to stand around with his hands in his pockets, gun on his hip (outside the coat, for quick access).

The stop-go guy anticipates the truck barely visible, about to turn into Gerrard street, and the stop-go guy is smart enough to move a traffic cone a little bit.

I am NOT suggesting that the stop-go is dumb. Most likely an engineering graduate glad to get a job, even if it is as a stop-go guy.

I mean that our stop-go guy is perfectly capable of reading the traffic; and even the Beck Taxi drivers are capable of accepting the stop-go guy as the interim traffic referee.

Why have a cop here?

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It seems that the same question has occurred to the cop.

As the truck begins its turn into Gerrard Street, the cop wanders off.

Hands in pockets, still.

Perhaps he has realized that our stop-go guy is capable of doing his (stop-go guy’s) job.

Perhaps his (the cop) coffee is getting cold.