To B-town and back

I woke up Monday morning feeling like a hungover wreck. I blame oversleeping.

My weekend was spent in the lap of relaxation -- sleeping, eating, swimming, and lying around at a cottage on Lake Muskoka. All with the heady scent of nature drugging me, making me drowsy.

This summer seemed to stretch on forever, and the weekend retreat to the countryside served as a nice bookend to a summer full of upheavel and change. It was one of two outings where I actually left this city since I first moved here three long months ago.

The weekend, as short as it felt, started on Friday when I hopped on a GO train to Brantford (an ugly hole of a town full of sketchy buildings pockmarked with shattered windows), then changed over to a GO bus to Barrie.

B-town, what I saw of it, was quite manicured and suburban in its chic-wannabe stores tinged with country and bars filled with bambinas of the Sirens variety.

My meanness is in no way a criticism of my time there. It was fun to see where J. lived, his house, his yard, his friends, his bars, his life. A great glimpse for the snoop in me. And I enjoyed it.

After a nite in B-town, it was off to Lake Muskoka for a nite and then finally back to the big city.

As much as I enjoyed the weekend, I have to admit at the end of it all how nice it was to drive up the busy back lane of my building and be home!