I know the title of the last entry said London. I lied. Unless you count the arrival of the Greyhound in London at about 7pm. But that was only barely implied ...

Walked straight into a cab and was delivered to 36 Grand Ave, the Idlewyld Inn - a boutique place in an old stately home - probably what our old place at the Ridgeway must have been like. (Picture at the start of the blog). I checked in and asked them to order me a cab to head out to Alex and Mary B's for the big surprise.

When I arrived, I could see that there were lights on. I paid off the cabbie, but asked him to wait a minute just in case. No need. Alex came to the door, and was suitably surprised. It was a great re-union. Mary B was still at work - setting up a new email server. She phoned at one stage, but Alex didn't mention my arrival. When she got home, I stood in the laundry and then stepped out and joined in her conversation with Alex. She literally jumped on the spot!

We chatted util about 11, but I was conscious of Alex's early start, so headed back to the Idlewyld.

The plan was to use Friday for an initial visit to the Uncles and Aunts as everyone else pretty much was at work. Rather than run the risk of upsetting them - or worse!, I rang ahead to Uncle Joe, and then Aunt Imelda and made arrangeents for my visits.

First step was to be picked up by Discount Auto Rentals to collect my black Kia Forte. I hooked up the GPS and sailed off on the right hand side of the road to pay downtown a visit. I parked on Talbot street and headed off for a walk. The temperature was still quite mild. I have to say that with each visit, Dundas becomes more depressing, with closed up store fronts and panhandlers every 100 metres or so. I was looking for a Tim Horton's that was large enough to carry extra merchandise, so I could get a mug for Beth. No luck in downtown.

Headed off then to see Cathy and Aunt Imelda. We haven't seen Cathy since we caught up in New Zealand, and although she was only in town because of her Dad's stroke, it was an unexpected bonus to be able to see her again. We had lunch, during which Vince joined us. I heard the story of Uncle Charlie's stoke. Apparently he was downstairs and when it occurred, neither fell nor lost consciousness. He couldn't speak, and had to bang on something to get attention. Aunt Imelda called Vince who lives only a few minutes away, and they got the ambulance there in under 5 minutes. The prompt response seems to have been a very positive thing. Charlie has now been moved from his initial hospital to Parkwood Hospital for rehab, where the major issue is getting his speech and swallow reflexes back.

I followed Imelda and Cathy to Parkwood for a visit. In order to soften the blow, they went in to his room first and told him I was coming. He was quite emotional. He had been snoozing, but once he woke up he was able to engage actively in the conversation. He understands everything and even cracks jokes, but he really has to concentrate to project his voice, and hard sounds like K, G are difficult for him. I stayed for about an hour, during which time he had his speech therapy session, and his clarity improved even during that time. Will see him again on Sunday.

Next stop was Uncle Joe and Aunt Mary. Amadea had been in in the morning, as she is every day (having taken leave from work to help out). I have to say it was something of a shock to see the two of them. Whilst a year ago, Aunt Mary had seemed quite frail, she is even more so now. She sat in her chair and said very little. I suspect she is in pretty constant pain. Uncle Joe put up a good front, and we had a great chat, but you can see from his belt how much weight he has lost recently. The cancer is spreading, and while he has embarked recently on a new form of radiation treatment, I think it is for pain relief. From talking to the cousins, the two of them are just hanging on for each other. At least they have now moved their bedroom downstairs - no choice really as they can't maneouvre Mary up the stairs any more.

By late afternoon, the temperature had dropped considerably.

The evening was somewhat less sombre as I joined Alex and Mary B at a choir festival for the 100 years of St Patrick's parish, in which Susan Murphy - Mary B's mum - was performing. The most memorable part of the evening was a nativity tableau performed by a number of children from the same family. While big sister - the angel - sang quite capably, various younger siblings entered the stage as: Mary (with a doll, and none to clear about what she was supposed to do); Joseph (with a very clear idea about what Mary should have been doing - and telling her); a shepherd (with a big stick which he wielded to shepherd the lamb - who didn't want to sit down on the stage). All quite comical really. In the course of the choir performances and the social part of the evening later, it became apparent that the family had a few issues.

We dropped Susan off at her place and I collected my car and headed for the Idlewyld.