On the GO in Ontario

I know now what Kate was talking about, when she spoke disapprovingly of middle-aged ladies wearing leggings.  I pictured an elegant lady, such as myself, in black leggings and a tunic, sipping a glass of champagne and quoting poetry (well, the only poem in my head lately is that awful one about the bishop and the choir boy my dad recited, so let's say, talking history or something).  And so I defended leggings.

But, on the platform, a lady about my age, thick-torsoed, was wearing tight leggings and a tight, thin white tank top with her yellow sports bra visible underneath.  And sneakers, to look sporty, I guess, like she'd just been exercising.  She had the short hair cut everyone has nowadays.  She was talking to a young woman, thin, in basically the same outfit, but she had a skirt on and so was less offensive, perhaps, to the befezzed guy also on the platform.  And, well, to me.

There was a gyspy looking couple near me, although more symmetrical looking than the ones in the paper, and I brought my bags in close to me like a mother hen and her chicks. Well, supposing they do that.   It doesn't work out too well with the eggs.