Mary had a little black sheep who produced three bags full of wool for the muffin man who lives in Drury Lane.

The birthday party at my brother-in-law�s went better than I expected. My four-and-a-half year-old grand-niece (fancy that, my sister-in-law is five months my junior and a grandmother!) has matured quite a bit since I saw her last, and actually took quite a shine to me. We ended up sharing a chaise longue by the pool singing little songs to each other. I would sing her some remembered nursery rhyme, and then she would say, �Let�s sing this one!� and proceed to do variations on the one I had just performed. She�s adorable but, being the only grandchild and great-grandchild, is also mightily spoiled.

The previous morning I took a walk, ostensibly to see what had been done to Hubby�s late grandmother�s place. The tiny house has been totally demolished and replaced by a semi-detached brick monstrosity. It�s so sad. Not quite ready to turn around and go back to my in-laws�, I continued down the street, noting that it was Alma St. N. and curious as to where Alma St. S. began. It took me past the train tracks and a rather disreputable-looking neighbourhood to Inkerman Street, where I headed west, going through an opening in some trees, hopping a railway track, and finding myself on what looked like it was once a road, but had now fallen into disrepair. Stretching around me was an abandoned area that is reverting to parkland with nary a soul in sight. I just kept walking westward, having no idea where I was or where I was going, but enjoying my solitude and the sunshine. At one point I crossed a beautiful creek totally overgrown with willows. There were footpaths leading out of the area but I resisted the temptation to follow them, not knowing where they would take me. I don�t know Guelph well, and wanted to minimize the chances of getting lost. The path eventually deteriorated completely into rubble and I arrived at what seemed to be another abandoned road, turned north, and eventually found myself at a dead end. Passing through a break in the fence I was at the corner of Silver Creek Parkway and Paisley, three little girls were playing in the cul de sac and I saw my way back to the in-laws� plainly before me.

Not until I spoke to my sister-in-law�s husband at the birthday party did I find out where I had been. Apparently this had once been a gravel pit with its own rail line running through it, servicing different establishments devoted to the manufacture of various products dependent on the output of the gravel pit. There was no longer any sign of this former usage. What struck me as odd was that the city has completely grown up on all sides of this stretch, yet it seems to be totally forgotten. I hope that the area is eventually turned into a parkland, because it is so accessible and such a potentially pretty area.

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