I said goodbye to Phil yesterday.
Our unlikely friendship began in 2008, when his then-girlfriend Alanna pushed me to hire him to renovate my new, bad house. It was the first official project for INTOR Construction, so he was figuring things out as he went, but we got along, and I had many more projects for him afterwards.
We agreed on Oasis, good eyebrows, and Portuguese custard tarts. Disagreed on politics, avocados, and the importance of spelling. For some reason we hung out all the time anyway.
When my basement flooded, he was here in 20 mins at 10 PM with his Shop-Vac and fans, working with me until it was dry. My tree blew down and he brought chainsaws to help clear the 4 backyards it collapsed on. No questions asked, no payback accepted, ever.
As INTOR grew, he'd tell me about new projects he signed and ambitious plans he was making, saying "I'm bringing you with me, bro!" Phil shared success rather than gatekeep it, and was incredibly generous and loyal. Nobody's helped me more in my career, or in personal growth. He gave killer advice; when it was bad I forgave him, because when it was good it changed my life.
In 2017, we established our design/build company DXT Studio, rented a space and hired a team that included my dog, who loved Phil. We had a lot of fun at Sterling, and even did work sometimes.
Any time he introduced me to anyone (and he knew EVERYONE), he'd say, "Have you met my best friend Sarah Townson?" He had about fifty "best" friends, but it still felt good and true.
It's wild that in 15 years, I don't have any pictures of us together except these, taken in a photo booth in December at a new bar he built (and awarded me a small sign painting job). In the morning I cringed and tossed them in a drawer, thinking they were terrible because you can tell how many drinks we'd had. It was one of the very last times I'd ever see Phil.
Of COURSE he died on a leap day. He was unlike anyone else, and I'll never have a friend like him again. I don't think anyone knew me better, and now all that data is just floating around in space in the energy he left behind, untethered.
Rest easy, bud. I'm bringing you with me.
Just the 'fax, please ✈️🦞🌊 A few days of well-earned escape (plus one extra, "courtesy" of Porter Airlines) to a beautiful spot on this planet, with some of the most wonderful humans, gorgeous local fauna, and two (2) seafood towers
P.S. I've been gone from the gram for a bit, just busy being happy. Sorry 'bout it!
Here are the results of two weeks, an empty loft, and SEVERAL hundred jugs of coffee. And hey, you can live here, if you want! For sale as of this weekend, DM for info 🗝
2002-2022 was a pretty good run.
I said goodbye forever to this sweet man yesterday after being his mom for almost half my life. We grew up and old together. Looking through thousands of his photos for this post, I realized how many people and homes have come and gone from my life, while he remained constant.
OK yes, Cole’s thyroid condition combined with his constant thirst for attention made him probably the most annoying-sounding animal on the face of the earth, and my clients will probably be a bit relieved at never having to hear him in the background of our Zoom calls again. But he was also the most cuddly boy with a thunderous purr, whose happiest place was the hammock I’d make him in my shirts. He always knew exactly where I wanted to walk and he’d get there first, because he loved to be stepped on and apologized to. He took ownership of a seat in my kitchen known as The Petting Stool, where he’d hop up and sit waiting for the right moments to shove his face into my hand whenever I made toast (all day every day). He interrupted every floor workout I’ve ever done so he could lick my face and chew on my hair with his fangless gums. He loved Maker Pizza crust, just like his ma. I wrote him countless stupid songs and he loved them all, or at least never complained about it if he didn't. He was my shadow.
Cat King Cole/Coley Boy/Coconut/Cinnamon Bun/Noodle, you departed this world in the same building as I found you. The report card on your cage at the @toronto_humane_society called you “a real treasure”, and it was true. I won’t forget the compassion they showed in allowing us to be there with you the whole time to keep you safe. My son, my moon, I love you, I love you, I love you.
Thanks to all the friends, family and internet strangers who’ve sent such supportive messages over the last few days, it means more to me than you know. xo 🦁
Almost there! Sconces, furniture, and some finishing touches still to come, but my client Aimee is all moved in over at @myclevelandproject . I'll be posting more peeks in my stories from this pre-lockdown visit. So many knurled knobs I wanted to touch but didn't! 🖤
