It was a weekend with few shoulds or must-dos. A chance to sink into pillows with coffee and a book late into the morning. When hunger lured me from bed there was French toast and bacon and cups of tea. Saturday brought with it a trek to High Park to see Number Four who’d been marooned at his dad’s with a skateboarding injury. Walking gingerly on his bandaged foot, he took me on a tour, excited to share with me his “other” neighbourhood. We stopped for lunch and then knowing me so well, he indulged me without so much as a grimace when we popped into a flower shop. Number Two and I went ravine-walking on Sunday beneath familiar trees whose leaves have begun to dazzle with the golds and oranges of autumn. And when my cell rang in the forest (always an odd and dislocating experience) we happily accepted an impromptu dinner invitation, arriving tired and hungry and smelling of the dampened woods. I hope your weekend held some quiet magic!