Here's a story that gave me nightmares for a long time! As Sis told it (and verified by my great uncle Rufort), in the early 1930s, their aunt Mary was driving with four of their relatives in some sort of huge luxury convertible, up the steep incline near Grenadier Pond in High Park (Toronto). Aunt Mary was only 4' 9" according to Sis. The car (a standard) stalled! Aunt Mary was unable to restart the car and due to her height (as this was an integral part of the story), she was not able to control it, and the car rolled inexorably back down RIGHT INTO Grenadier pond! 'Grenadier Pond has no bottom' my Aunt Sis would say in sepulchuric tones. They all drowned with the exception of the aforementioned great uncle Rufort! Trust me when I say, I will never skate on Grenadier Pond.
Even though I avoided Grenadier Pond, High Park has some wonderful memories for me. My Dad would take us to see the poor old Buffaloes at the zoo there where we fed the beasts stale bread crusts. We would also feed the swans until the time my younger brother was charged by an irate one - we were all too afraid after that.
Another favourite place in High Park (but this was much later) was Colborne Lodge. The historical society has restored it to its former glory and I enjoyed many Sundays there going through the rooms and imagining myself as Elizabeth Bennett waiting for Mr Darcy. My father in a surprising burst of generosity, bought me a limited edition lithograph of Colborne Lodge which I still have. When I look at it, I remember those Sundays with my father. Thanks Dad.
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