Seven stitches is all it takes to completely deflate my love of my home or any dreams of ever remodeling a kitchen. It happened as I was endeavoring to find out what manner of creature was doing it's best to deepen the space beneath our porch. I had thought I was hearing things. How could a creature breach the fortress I had constructed of steel wire, staples, screws and wood? Well, evidently, through my neighbour's connected porch. Determined to protect my home from the unwanted wild kingdom, I put a plan in motion. Ammonia soaked rags would deter the beast. Once vacated, I would again seal the perimeter. No 'God's Creature' would find peace in the space beneath the stairs of this man's castle. Unfortunately, part of this plan involved a knife that accidently found its swift way through my finger (typing now, dear readers, pains me still). I will not disgust you with the details, but let us say, my second favourite appendage is forever scarred. So too is my taste for doing such handy work. To Hell with Nature. Let her children dig up my foundation, let her rains seep through my roof, and let her winds leave us bare and cold. If the sibling hurricanes, Katrina, Rita and Wilma (am I mistaken, or were these the first names of the singing Andrews sisters) have taught us nothing, they have shown us you can't win against Mom Nature. Why fight it? Let us instead occasionally attempt to deflect it. Let's build on higher ground, homes of dirt and clay and let the raccoons and vermin be our pets. Surely we'd have fewer mangled digits.

Why turn or backs on thousands of years of civilization all because of seven stitches? Because it really hurt, that's why! Perhaps, I will renovate again one day, who can say? I suppose that I should be grateful to live in a place such as Toronto. It's not exactly tornado alley, or lightning strike avenue, or even earthquake crescent. I don't recall the realtor mentioning this part of the city being prone to mud slides. One odd fact does stay in my mind though. I've always heard High Park has a population of coyotes, but I've never seen one. The first few times I walked through the park I wondered when I would see a coyote, and never went too far without a backward glance. I suppose its ironic to worry about the encroachment of nature in a park created to emulate nature, but after all, we made this park to be the parts of nature we liked, not the parts we didn't.