Today, the investment company finally made the last transfer of Edmund's savings. Whatever ploy it was the lawyer cooked up, it worked. And I've been to Kitchener for my asthma needle. It's nice to get it over with first thing in the morning, although I have to set the alarm clock to ensure I get up in time to hit the road at 0730 hr.

Stratford is gradually opening up. The actors are rehearsing performances that will be mounted in tents on the theatre grounds and the restaurants are serving diners seated at patio tables on the pavement outside their doors. The farmers' markets and shops deemed not essential enough during the lockdown are back in business. People are eating ice cream in the street. A new beer garden is packing them in on Waterloo Street. I finally secured a fresh supply of Lap-sang Sou-chong tea.

I went to the Bell Telephone store in big mall at the east end of town the other day. The only businesses still operating there are chains and franchises, most notably Canadian Tire; all the small local enterprises have dried up and blown away. The best downtown pizza joint changed hands when the Greek family that owned it went back to the old country to take over the business of a close relative who died of COVID-19. My favourite diner managed to keep all its staff, for a wonder, and they greeted me with glad cries when I showed up for the first Sunday brunch after the lockdown was lifted.

The ban on hairdressing is still in place, and the only people who don't look scruffy have barbers in the family. I almost don't care when the US-Canadian border will open; I just want a haircut!