After two days on the road it felt good to stretch our legs and walk a few blocks in my father’s Ottawa neighborhood, aka The Glebe. My mother used to say she had the worst house on the best street in Ottawa. The family home is large and modern which sets it apart from the other houses on Clemow Avenue. They’re old and fricking enormous. Gigantic. I snapped some shots so that you can get a feel for the atmosphere.
Here are some random maisons in the two block hike to the commercial street, rue Bank.
Here’s Daddy’s parish church, St. Matthew’s Anglican. It’s larger than St. James, the Episcopal cathedral in Chicago.
I spotted this on a telephone pole. Carlos seems to be having second thoughts.
This fine store received my mother’s custom. Lou renamed it Big Bucklands.
All squirrels in these parts are black.
Thank God there’s a handy frite wagon a few blocks down Bank Street!
Le menu. I’ll get my poutine fix before we go home.
I love NiCastro’s, an Italian specialty food shop. The cheese counter is flat-out fab.