Adam and I went for a stroll through the neighbourhood last night (perambulated as he would say) on our way for gelato. My apartment is surrounded on all sides by gelato and taking a loop a few blocks out of the way seemed like a good plan and preventative measure.

My neighbourhood is mixed - it was Toronto's first Little Italy (Corso Italia) and it fell on some hard times - years of streetcar track construction didn't help local businesses. Now with real estate prices being what they are it is on it's way back up. So there are first time buyers, renters (of variable reputation) and some original home owners. (They are the ones with the amazing rose gardens.)

I'm used to strange things that people do in their garages. Barbeques, sitting on lawn chairs until the wee hours, beer pong. But I think this was a first for me. In a garage - thankfully detached from the house but attached to another garage - was a very large green oil drum sitting on top of a propane burner. On high. We could smell the propane from the middle of the street (where we moved). I can't think of what the old Italian man whose garage it was (he was standing in front of it with his dog) was making. I mean you don't heat up wine or beer like that. Moonshine?