We’re under constant renovation here, and when dear hubby removed a bit of baseboard in what used to be the kitchen, he uncovered a stash of lost mail. I had to laugh out loud – with licensing being a bit of a hot topic right now.
So, there you go. In 1956 in Etobicoke, you had to pay fifty cents each year to license your bicycle. And what you got in return was a flimsy piece of carbon paper and a warning not to ride on the sidewalks.
ps. don’t let this get to city hall. I don’t think we want to remind them.