I'm back from Ottawa.

The high-school reunion was fun, but unexpectedly tiring. Who knew that standing around nattering for hours would wear me out worse than a 10-km walk? Also, the unfamiliar bed took its toll: my Fitbit says I went short on REM sleep and deep sleep for most of the time I was away.

The drive home was tough because of foul weather: rain varying from thorough to vicious all the way from Brother Andrew's front door in the south end of Ottawa to Peterborough in Hastings County on Highway 7. Visibility was so poor that the SATNAV in the car didn't switch to daytime display until about 1100 hr. Fortunately, the other Monday-morning drivers on Highway 7 were as determined as I was to survive the experience. Nobody tail-gated, lane-hopped or otherwise demonstrated the characteristics of an arsehole behind the wheel. Signalling was notable for its frequency.

The 407 was nearly empty, so I set the cruise control and legged it around Toronto at 120 kph. I was back in Stratford by 1430 hr, and home by 1500 hr after visits to the vet's (for cat food) and Sobey's, for milk and fruit.

The foul weather caught up with me again in Stratford on Monday afternoon, and it rained slush hard and steadily all yesterday. Summer is truly gonzo, and autumn is apparently braced for exit, stage out.

Over twelve days of free-range eating, too much booze and no exercise worth mentioning, I put on two pounds that will almost certainly be gone by the weekend. I'm back at the Y for pool class four days this week, and four days next week.

Quite by accident, I have identified a brand of pants that fits better than LL Bean's so-called "favourite fit": Not Your Daughter's Jeans, or NYJD, which are designed for the somewhat hippier form of your typical middle-aged woman. They're expensive when purchased at shops specializing in nifty ladies' wear, but also available at deep discount on EBay.

The cats are delighted to see me again, and the house is okay. The cat visitor did a good job -- what a relief.