1200 km from Kingston to Stratford to Owen Sound to Stratford to Kingston. I found the point of eating discomfort and went beyond it. Woke in the night and thought to myself "whoa, that was a crapload of turkey I just ate". Turkey, like punk rock, is best taken in large volume.

Stopped at the Big Apple around Colborn on the way back. See, I figured that something called the Big Apple in apple country Ontario might have...apples. Right now at the Kingston Farmers' Market (since 1803) by my work you can get about 15 varieties, including incredibly local Royal Galas and Cox Orange Pippens [which make me want to get the cider press in action in the apartment hallway]. But at the Big Apple there is only pie from an in-house pie factory. And pathetically caged llamas and deer living on a dreary, gravelled slope next to the packed car park. Drew in the westward 401 travellers taking a break from the 150 km stop-and-go traffic [150 km!] from Belleville to the Big Smoke. Climbed the Big Apple. Got a higher view of the same 401, the pie factory and the caged llamas.

Earlier, said a silent prayer for the deliverance of Mel as we passed the Ajax GO station. Everything else on the weekend was good.