Norman and Heather have been neighbours, up the street in the brick building — “Peter Ghiz’s old office,” in Island parlance — for as long as I can recall. They’re dog people, and so they are ubiquitous in a way that only dog people are in a neigbourhood: I likely say hello to one or the other or both of them every day, sometimes more than once, as they walk Brandy, their current dog (“Whisky, Slivovitz, Tequila… Brandy! goes my thinking process every time I need to recall Brandy’s name). Heather and Norman’s building is at the far northern reaches of the C1A 4R4; in early-pandemic, during the creativity surge, Norman was a helpful postal facilitator for the neighbourhood newsletter.
Heather and Norman are moving out of the neighbourhood this weekend, heading farther downtown, into the ‘4J7; I will miss their smiling faces and neighbourly chats, and hope that their canine strolls take them north from time to time.