August 2006

A few months ago, I put together a little guided tour of “my day” for my friend Willow. In lieu of an actual blog entry here this morning, I figured I’d share.

You’ll quickly understand why I’m not working as a) a photographer, and b) why we needed to re-paint the whole house in a colour other than blue. Things have changed quite a bit around here – maybe I’ll put together a new tour this week. Even the garden looks completely different!

It is better to do one’s own duty, however defective it may be,
than to follow the duty of another, however well one may perform it.
He who does his duty as his own nature reveals it, never sins.

The Way of Heaven does not compete, And yet it skillfully achieves victory.
It does not speak, and yet it skillfully responds to things.
It comes to you without your invitation.

–Lao-Tzu

Earlier tonight, Coffee and I were debating what to eat for dinner. He insisted that he wanted something “light” and I said that he needed to decide because – no matter what we ate – I’d be fine with it. Light, heavy, chocolately, whatever. We tossed around some usual suspects and we looked on Google to see what was nearby in the way of “take-out” and we came across a fish and chip restaurant. As soon as Coffee mentioned the name of it, I (nearly) shouted, “Oh! We have to eat at that place in Burlington – the, um.. Something about Cod, I think, umm.. Cod…” He smiled and said, “Thank Cod? Maybe?”

Yes, Thank Cod Fish & Chips. That’s the one! We perused the menu online to see if it was within our budget and within our tastes, and I spotted “Deep Fried Mars Bar” in the dessert section. Ohmygod, yes, we shall go THERE! At once! To the Batmobile!

We arrived and found it pleasantly full of customers – enough that you didn’t feel as though you needed to whisper so as not to broadcast your entire conversation to the guy in the kitchen, but not so many that you felt jammed in and crowded and like you needed to shout for your tablemates to be able to hear you. It’s a fine line, y’know? They totally had it.

Our waitress (Erika) was sweet – she welcomed us, showed us to a table, chatted with us, and made us laugh a few times. Throughout the entire meal she appeared just enough to make us feel attended-to, and not so much that she was interrupting our conversations or smothering us with attention. She refilled my drink (iced tea) a few moments before I ran out. She was cheerful, pretty, attentive and friendly. She even had a tiny “assistant”, who I’d guess was around 2 years of age, with her to help bring my drink!

Coffee had thought that the “Thank Cod Platter” – a sort of sampler platter – wouldn’t be enough food for us to share, even though it was listed as a main course. We first ordered an appetizer of fried pickles which I have always wanted to try but never had the opportunity. To be honest, they lived up to my expectations. So! Very! Good! (It’s well-known that I adore pickles and get kind of loopy about them – they were our wedding favours, for god’s sake!) If I had PMS, I’d have cancelled the rest of my order and requested a few more plates of pickles. THAT’S how good they were – and served with a thick, creamy dill dip, too.

Since Coffee felt the platter wouldn’t be sufficient, we ordered it along with a 2-piece serving of fish and chips which he anticipated would be the bulk of his meal. It arrived at the same time as the ‘platter’ (which actually took up TWO large platters!) and both Coffee and I were stunned. To say “large portions” would be a major understatement, as far as I was concerned. Our table top (a booth, no less) was covered. All of the food was hot, crispy and really tasty. Not a single bit of soggy or under-cooked batter, no limp french fries, no over-done onion rings. I’m talking perfection.

Erika asked if we wanted anything else, as we shoveled the last few bits of food into our mouths, and I had to have it. I had to. A few minutes later she returned with the Deep Fried Mars Bar – another thing I’ve always wanted to try (because apparently, my friends, I enjoy the deep fried foods..) but have never had the opportunity. Even though I was full of enough food to cause me pain at that point, I found myself eating the unbelievably gooey, whip-creamed, sweet, warm + ice cream and syrupy-goodness.. ahhhhhhhhhhhh… If you’ve ever had one, you know what I mean. I wanted to cry with happiness – and I’m seriously not exaggerating.

When we left, having had one of the best meals we’ve eaten in a while, we were both stuffed and beyond sated. I think I’m waddling, even though I’m sitting down, THAT’S how much food I ate.

If you’re looking for the very best, 10 out of 10, super-peachy-keen place to eat fish & chips you absolutely must go to Thank Cod. If you’ve always wanted to try a fried pickle / Mars bar, you must go to Thank Cod in Burlington Ontario. If you want great service, ditto. If you want to eat a huge meal for a very good price – well, yeah. Just go. Really.

Mmmmmmmm…

See? I’m not the only one.. (She types, affixing her lips to the straw again..)

For those of you outside of Canada, how many of these mean nothing to you (or make no sense)? I’m seriously curious.

http://www.blogthings.com/canada.html

I am frequently – and by frequently I mean many-times-a-day – reminded of how much I love Coffee and how lucky I am to be married to him. In the past I thought it was enough to have ‘balance’ in a relationship and now I know that it’s more important to have balance AND sameness. I am reminded of how lucky I am whenever I hear someone speak of their relationship issues. I am reminded when he is here, snuggled up to me, and I have my hands wrapped up in his hair. I am reminded when I look around the house and see evidence of his presence. When he washes my hair in the shower. When he makes me giggle. When he shows me how to do something. When I fold his boxers and put them away after laundry day. When he talks me though some crappy situation. When he invents magic in our life together. I wish everyone I knew – everyone – had this kind of relationship. Sure, the details would need to be different in some cases, but everyone should feel this loved and, at the same time, have this much love for someone else.

If you were to put all of my very close friends in one room – leaving out people who are better lumped into the “acquaintance” department – the common ground would be laughter. My friends know how to laugh. Sure, they may laugh at different things and different subjects. Some of them may laugh with snorting noises and some silently and some very loudly. But I dare say that not a single one of my friends is lacking a sense of humour. I could not be friends with someone who doesn’t know how to laugh out loud at the slightest provocation. There are friends who I know without question should never meet, let alone spend time together, but I can tell the same joke to them both and have them laugh and laugh and laugh. I am blessed with some amazing friends and I want more! Is that selfish?

Yesterday I bought a handmade duvet cover from a garage sale down the street – it’s a beautiful multi-coloured creation and I was giddy to discover it tucked into a trunk underneath some pillow shams. (Sadly, it’s not very soft, but it’s so! colourful!) Every day, for the past year or so, I have walked the dogs past this particular house and I have admired the garden near the sidewalk. The owner of the house – an older woman – has always scowled at me despite my friendly smile and occasional “Hello!”. Yesterday, as I stood inside her garage, she was as friendly as if we’d known each other forever. We chatted about real estate (of course) and flowers and our city and working and quilting. Sometimes people don’t like to acknowledge strangers and the only real way to stop being a stranger is to speak. Context is important. I pondered all the people who might consider me ‘snobby’ or ‘unapproachable’ because the context wasn’t quite right. Hmm.

Also, yesterday, Coffee and I took the dogs for what was meant to be a quick romp through a field across the street from our house. On reaching the back of the field before me, Coffee discovered a very large sumac tree standing alone amidst the low-lying brush. The tree was covered in monarch butterflies. Covered! There had to have been hundreds of them – resting on the leaves, floating through the air, launching and landing. Hundreds! The air was filled with them and the tree was covered in them and all we could do was stand and watch them. It was beautiful. We’ve seen a few of them floating around our yard recently, ’tis the season after all, but nothing quite like this. Unbelievable – and given the location of the tree it’s unlikely anyone else will see them there. Magic. A reminder that very cool things are happening right in front of your face, sometimes.

Later in the day, as we sat with the dogs on a patch of grass near our house, we watched flock after flock of birds returning to the gigantic tree on a street somewhere near us. They flew over our head, chirping and singing like they were heading to the biggest party ever. Which they were, really. Every night in autumn they do this – congregate in that same tree – and they sing and chirp loudly enough that they can’t be ignored. It’s unbelievable to hear and there’s no way I can describe it adequately. It’s absolutely mindboggling. Hundreds and hundreds of birds in one place, talking about their day and what’s new and where’d you get that cool bug? People stop walking and look around with confusion until they see the tree-of-birds singing at the top of their lungs and then, well, then they stare openly. On cue, when the light hits a certain level, they fall absolutely silent. It’s the weirdest, sorta-creepiest, strangest thing to experience. “Party over, everyone! Don’t make me come over there little one! Tuck your head under your wing and settle down!” Silence.

Lately, it seems, life is full of things that make me happy.

I am not a goal-oriented person, I confess, I am a happy-oriented person. It makes it hard to tell someone “what’s new?” when I meet up with them (because people expect to hear about your achievements instead of “Oh! I’m just happy lately!”), but it makes my day-to-day life so much easier. My body and mind seek a form of “happiness homeostasis” in that way. It’s why my mood can change so quickly – from tears to laughter, say, and then right back again.

I have always maintained that if you can find joy – serious joy – in very small things, you’ll never lack for reasons to be happy. It’s my truth. I don’t believe that I am required to maintain a specific mood for any length of time – it’s fluid and it’s always shifting and I allow my moods to take me with them rather than trying to control them. When I am angry, I am livid. When I am sad, I am morose. But I am always seeking happiness both consciously and not, and, when it pops in for a bit, I absolutely have to grab tight. I confess that it can be exhausting for those around me who are not as keen to “live in the moment” – particularly those who don’t believe moods should be transient and who worry about my inconsistencies. (“I swear, she was crying hysterically and then she started to snort with laughter and she couldn’t stop laughing! What the hell is THAT?”)

The truth is that life is full of shit. Bills and accidents and angry conversations and people who do stupid things and rudeness and money problems and traffic jams and and and… We focus on those things because they shove themselves into our faces with stunning regularity. We get a little jolt of adrenaline from them, too. The “Oh for fuck’s sake..” response. I just get tired of it. I don’t want to focus on that – the negative – all the time. So I don’t. I acknowledge them (“Traffic was fucking HORRIBLE and the entire world is full of ASSHATS WHO CAN’T DRIVE!”) and then I move on (“So, I was reading this AMAZING book today! Heee!”) and it gets me through.

And then I talk to my friends who know how to laugh. I snug up to my husband. I count my blessings. I count butterflies.

I am happy.

We have two showings booked for tomorrow. The appointment for this afternoon was cancelled which was, surprisingly, a big relief. But we still have to get up early tomorrow to put the last bit of polish on the house – vacuum the floors and scrub the sinks and all the rest.

Coffee took the day off today (a serious blessing) and we rented a panel van to haul more boxes to our storage unit. It’s now about 9/10ths full, which is mighty impressive, and our house is about 3/4 empty which, for those who’ve been here, is unspeakably impressive. We have a few runs left for Goodwill (this weekend) and, perhaps, one more car-load to the storage unit. We also rented a ladder from Home Depot to change some lightbulbs in our very high stairwell and to hang a 9′ long fabric “swatch” in the same area. Oh, and the rat cage is clean. And the garage is nearly done! The basement is clean. And there’s a load of laundry in the washer and one in the dryer.

The highlight of the entire day, however, was visiting the Waste Transfer Station.

Also known as “the dump”.

The first shocking revelation was that my dear husband has NEVER BEEN TO THE DUMP before. Not once in his childhood! Of all the childhood stories he has told me, this is the one that could almost break my heart. What kind of a deprived childhood did he LIVE?!

It’s completely inconceivable to me as many of my childhood weekends (in the summer, in particular) were spent accompanying my Dad to what felt like the coolest place on earth. A gigantic mound of garbage in a pseudo-building! Being handed some piece of garbage (say, a box or a tree branch) to fling onto that pile – as hard as I could, as far as I could – was mindboggling. Fling! Toss! Pitch! And oh, the cool things I saw!

So today Coffee and I headed to the dump and we flung boxes and garbage and old ‘stuff’ as hard and as far as we could. And it was good. Just as fulfilling as when I was a kid, I swear. It’s one of the few experiences that apparently translate very well between childhood and adulthood. Fling! Toss! Pitch! Giggle! Fun! FUN!

It feels weird to be this close to The End. What the hell am I going to do with my spare time if I’m not packing and organizing and cleaning all the time?!

Oh. Right. Unpack and clean and organize a new place.

Crap.

We’re walking around the block. Daisy stops to bark (in the most ridiculously over-the-top manner) at an elderly lady who’s watering her garden.

The lady looks up, smiles at me, and says, “Oh! Woof! Woof! Like a little negro child!” in broken english.

For a moment, I pause. What?

“The dog? Like a little negro child!” she repeats, in response to my confused expression. Daisy keeps barking. Zooey is sniffing the lawn at her feet. I am perplexed.

“I… pardon?”

“The dog! The dog is like child for you! The negro dog! Black! Black child!”

And then the little lightbulb over my head turned on – she meant that my little black dog was like a child to me. Gotcha. Okay.

“Yes, she’s a good dog!” I reply, “A very good little black dog.”

“Your child. Woof! And the other one, too!”

Indeed.

I had no idea that professional carpet cleaning was:

a) so much fun to watch
b) so fast and easy to do with big-ass machines
c) so relatively inexpensive as to make it TOTALLY worthwhile

Did you know those points? Why didn’t you tell me?

I swear, sometimes I feel like I was born without the domestic gene that everyone else seems to have. Sheeesh.

How’s that? Does that feel better? You’re a nice little girl but you need direction. So crawl over to the wet bar and bring me a towel, an ice cube and some tongs. Bring me a bottle of Chivas Regal, a copy of Car Craft Magazine, some nail polish, a package of frozen Jimmy Dean Sausage, three pomegranates and a nail gun.

Now let’s sit here naked and wait for the diaper truck and the veterinarian.

I know poor Cary Tennis is going to get slammed by some people for this column, and they’re gonna’ say his reply was unncessary, but oh, it’s just brilliant. Totally unexpected and hilarious. Go Cary!