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puddlelilies.com / proofreading negates the immediacy of feeling

Category: Memories

  • Burritos

    There are frozen burritos at Save-On. There haven’t been frozen burritos (at least the ones I want) in the stores for at long time. There was a production shortage? Maybe? Someone said that, so I sortof stopped looking, but there were some there on Saturday morning when I was at the Save-On Foods at [redacted – my burritos].

    I haven’t had a frozen burrito for three years almost to the day. You might be wondering: How can I remember something so mundane? Well first off, Hi, I’m Lindsie, nice to meet you. But second off. There are extenuating circumstances surrounding the event.

    Trigger Warning: COVID.

    When I got COVID in early July 2022 I had two frozen burritos in my freezer. They were probably Reisers brand, as that is the brand I prefer over The Other Brand, and the beef and bean flavour (e.g. the flavour that doesn’t contain cheese). (Note that I think I’ve seen “vegan” burritos in this three years since I said I haven’t had frozen burritos, but I don’t feel those count.) At the time I would have purchased a bulk bag of them: 12 to a bag, though maybe it was a box? Twelve individually packaged ones to a box. I’ve experienced both, though now I think, it was The Other Brand that had the bag.

    Either way.

    I remember I had two left because I had COVID, and I had taken an inventory of food in my house after taking the test to make sure I could survive not leaving the house for a week or five days I was supposed to quarantine for. Or, as it turned out, the two weeks before I could physically move enough to leave my apartment. Whatever.

    I probably remember i had two burritos because I was calculating when to eat them, or whether to eat them. Two days into knowing I had COVID I stopped wasting energy on making myself regular bowl-sized portions of food because I couldn’t eat them, and I didn’t want to eat any of the leftovers. I remember making a big dish of rice pudding and eating it in custard cup-sized portions that I couldn’t finish.

    I don’t remember eating the first of my last two burritos, but lots of protein and easy to prepare: I would have been glad to have it.

    The worst of my days with COVID was the Tuesday of the second week. This came probalby after a weekend of maybe thinking I was starting to feel better ( you know, COVID). But on that Tuesday, I felt bad: as in, not comfortable in any position, and most of the day spent curled up in bad (where I had been spending a lot of time before that in various reclining-sitting positions on my bed or on the couch).

    There was a point in the afternoon where I realized that I hadn’t eaten all day, and the thought was that food is necessary to live even if I don’t want it. But what was there to eat that I could even stomach when I didn’t want to eat? Luckily, there was that one last frozen burrito.

    I remember waiting for it to warm up in the microwave. I sat on the armrest of the couch, uncomfortable and having a hard time being upright, thinking to myself, This Isn’t Good.

    I ate the last burrito lying down on my side? Feeding it into my mouth sideways? Halfway through and that was enough. I moved the plate away from my face, picturing waking up with it smashed into my cheek or something. (Hehe)

    I maybe slept then, or watched/listened to the TV shows I would have had streaming – Coronation St for when I was going to sleep for sure. I don’t remember what I watched when was awake. Maybe nothing; it was a bad day and concentrating on a plot might have been too much. I would have had my curtains open to let in the light, which is nice, maybe even the window open for fresh air – Yes, in July. Yes. My laptop would have been open beside me on the bed. Close to my face: if I wasn’t wearing my glasses so I could eventually sleep I can’t see far enough if I have to adjust the volume or change to the next episode.

    I did sleep at some point, and when I woke I finished the bit of burrito, glad I didn’t have to get up to make something else; still not hungry but needing to eat. Also: imagery of baby chicks who eat at their lil trough, then sleep right there, ready to eat again when they wake up again. (Hehe.)

    Later, when I was better and looking to get them again, the Great Burrito Shortage must have been happening. Probably – like lots of things in 2022. I wondered if that maybe was a good thing – if maybe eating them again might be triggering, or if I might have lost a taste from eating them while I was sick, as happens. However, I’m pretty happy to have found them again, and not too much more expensive than they were before(burrito miracle). I bought two.

    P.S. I laughed mabye waaaay too much when I was relating this whole story to Mum this evening during our phone call. She was just quiet in a “uh that’s not really funny?” sort of way. To be fair, I found it all very hilarious at the time, so.

    P.P.S. On the day after this bad day I started getting hungry again for very specific foods. I had a list ready when Susan asked at three and she delivered after work: oranges, ketchup chips, and yogurt. I went though the whole bag of chips very quick and I was a little concerned– but then I remembered how I hadn’t eaten anything for about a week at that point so if ketchup chips was all I wanted, it was ketchup chips I was going to have.

  • Hair

    Part 1 – Everyone Likes My Hair.

    It’s been nearly 15 years since I chopped my long hair into the now normal shortie way that I wear it now. Fifteen years as of sortof the end of August coming up. Facebook will remind me of the exact date when it happens.

    Not a terribly grand thing to celebrate but I remember it. Also it came up in conversation lately where I don’t remember the exact context but there was a comment on my hair being short, and my response was “Well it’s been like this for a decade so I’m used to it now. More than a decade! A decade and a half!”

    Speaking of comments on my hair, there’s been an evolution on the compliments I get. Thus:

    1. At first I got a lot of compliments about how good it looked from people who knew me with long hair: the immediate drama of the Great Chop. So anyone who knew me at the time, or anyone who I knew ever. How Bold!
    2. Following this, is compliments from friends and acquaintances who never knew me with long hair, commenting on how my hair well suits me. Nice.
    3. I also get compliments from complete strangers, or semi-strangers. E.g. the woman who lives in my building who I see walking around the neighbourhood all the time who never smiles at me or makes eye contact but occasionally has a great hat. I held the side door of our building for her the other day and she commented on my hair. “It’s very low maintenance!” I exclaimed, happy for the interaction. But she had nothing else to say after that, even though we had a whole set of stars to walk up together.

    Part 2 – Another Anecdote Related to my Hair.

    My stylist (not the Original Chopper, but a new one) cuts my hair so fast but we manage to have a good catch-up chat anyway by talking really fast. I almost forgot to remind her about my dance recital after my last cut, but I turned back just before leaving the salon and told her how to get tickets. She was able to attend and found me after the show with a bar of vegan chocolate. (Cute context: She’d offered me a choco-treat during my cut but I had to decline due to dairy and she was all “OH NO! No chocolate??!” but I was like “VEGAN CHOCOLATE!” and she was consoled and promised me some next time.)

    Lindsie With Long Hair Circa June 2008

  • March 31, 2022

    For my birthday last week I bought myself a day pass for the bus. I didn’t mean to. I was meeting a friend for birthday breakfast and intended to walk downtown, but it was raining, or almost raining, or threatening to rain, so I was discouraged. I could have driven, but there is nothing as disheartening as driving when I’m ready for a walk. The bus seemed a reasonable compromise which would lessen my time in the rain, but also provide a bit of a walk. I might even be able to walk home after breakfast if the rain stopped. The real clincher was that if I got a day pass I’d have a little piece of paper with my birthday printed on it. Fancy. I might frame it.

    I was glad to have the day pass because on my way home it was raining harder so I really didn’t want to walk. Also, when I went to catch the number 3 bus that would take me from Yates St right into James bay it flew right past me before I could even cross the street to get to the bus stop. I tried to make it into a positive: maybe I’d like to stop somewhere and buy a birthday present for myself! But I couldn’t think of anything I wanted for my birthday. I already have a stash of treats and I have a lot of clothes. I didn’t feel like trying on shoes. And I was a little damp at this point. The busses (plural, since I missed the direct one) I took to get home were nice and dry and warm and not too busy during mid-morning. I ended up stopping at the BC Liquor Store not far from my house and browsing around a bit for some birthday liquor. A new gin or some fruity cans? No. Bourbon.

    I’ve forgotten how much I enjoy taking the bus. Albeit, when it’s not choc-a-bloc full of gross people. I meant to use them more over the winter, but I didn’t due to factors including forgetting and bonus COVID strains going on. Also since I gave up my buss pass at the start of the pandemic, it’s not quite the same. I used to jump on willy-nilly, even if just for a stop or two, just because I could. Now I have little tickets, which are finite, and when using one-at-a-time, they are limited to just one trip. A day pass is fine, but then I have to make sure I’m going to use it at least twice in the day to make up for the two tickets it costs.

    I meant to use the tickets for getting me to work but I never have. I’m too happy walking in. Not to mentioned smug and pleased with myself. Etc. Not to mention the bus I thought I’d catch leaves almost half and hour after I’m usually ready to go (now that I’ve been walking in and having to leave early to accommodate that.)

    Below I will copy and paste some memories of bus passes of yesteryear that I wrote up some time ago with the intention of incorporating seamlessly into a blog post. Instead, here’s this:

    Have I written about my bus pass?

    In Victoria there’s a group bus pass program called ProPass where if there are enough people in an organization, they can get a discounted bus pass. When I started work for government, only permanent employees were eligible to get one so I have 2.5 years of an agonizing wait before I could get one. Getting this pass would mean I had made it, I thought.

    I’ve always liked taking the bus. Before I had a car it was a nice alternative to walking. And even since getting a car I’d choose taking the bus over driving, since I’m not a big fan of getting behind the wheel. I like the freedom of not being in charge of the route, and traffic. With where I live it doesn’t even take that much longer to walk anywhere downtown than in would be to take any method of vehicle transport. Walking is even quicker, sometimes, depending on bus schedules.

    I remember visiting Victoria as a teenager and noting the busses on the roads. My dream was to move to Victoria and take the busses all over town. I’m a person with big ambition.

    I actually did move to Victoria for university, and during my second year is when they started giving all students a cheap but manditory bus pass as part of the fees. Even though I lived on campus I was thrilled. I definatly got my money’s worth with just toodling off campus now an then, even if I wasn’t commuting. I’d go on bus adventures, just getting on a bus to see where it ended up.

    When I was at Camosun then had the same program, where my student card was my bus pass, only then I had tu use it to commute to school, and also to work, and to dance class. I was busy then and it was nice to not have to worry about how I was going to get everywhere.

    It was the same when I lived in Vancovuer and was an UBC student for a year. I explored all of Vancouver with my student bus pass, even taking a loop around the sky train one day, just for fun. (Acutally that was even less exciting than it sounds.)

    A few years later, back in Victoria, and having finally got a permanent position, the first thing I did was fill out the paperwork to get my ProPass. Mission accomplished. I kept it even after I got my car, but I did start to think about getting rid of it. It was nice to have because the $60ish is cost was cheaper than parking downtown everyday, which was silly to do since I live so close, and it was just a 10 or so minute ride on the bus (30mins from my aptartment to my office with walking and wait time). But… it was only a 10 minute ride on the bus, and I could walk nearly the whole way to work in that same 30 minutes. So I did run the numbers a few times to see if I should get rid of it.

    I really only felt encouraged to get rid of it during the pandemic. I wasn’t charged for it for the first couple of months, but once they started charging again I took the sign that I hadn’t been on a bus in that whole time to get rid of it. Also, they made it easy to give it up: they only needed a photo of my cut-up card instead of handing it in in person. Easy.

    But also not easy? I didn’t want to give it up. I had worked hard to get it and it felt like I was giving up that dream that previous Lindsie had wanted so badly. I quickly decided that present Lindsie would be annoyed to pay for something that she wasn’t using and cut it up. As a compromise (I guess?), I still have the pieces for if I start to feel nostalgic (PS. This hasn’t happened).

  • May 24

    On this very day twenty-five years ago I had a good day and took care to document it in my journal, which is presented below. It’s from my first year of keeping a dedicated journal. The original is written in a 14-inch-tall ledger type book I acquired from who-knows-where. I have edited mildly to make it fit for human consumption. Context: grade 12. Some individuals have been redacted due to…. privacy concerns.

    May 24 1996.

    I had a good day today. It started with waking up and opening my eyes and… WOW! sunny day coming through my window! Wheeee! I leapt up and got a shower and shaved my legs and dressed beautifully in my yellow shirt and little floral dress and did my hair… Trey wacky [See note 1 below]. And I wore my anklet from [redacted] and my anklet from Leanne and, upon realization that they flopped up and down annoyingly when I ran up the stairs, I tied my yellow ribbon on above them to make them stop. And I had a hotdog for breakie, yum. The bus ride to school was nice. I thought about various things. The only thing that marred that was the Reform rally going on at the corner of Beverly and Lakes. I shuddered in digust. Anyhoo. I got to school and chatted with [redacted] for a bit and walked across the bridge in a prancy sort of way– I leapt from sunbeam to sunbeam, how they were coming through the window– . So we all had our little chat in the morning and then were off to class.


    English was long. We had to stay in an extra twenty minutes so Teacher could read John Grey, Robbie Burns and assign homework. Uhhhg. After we escaped that, me and Stacey met the WHOLE GANG at Phoenix Restaurant for lunch as planned. It was cool. We got there and there was my whole bunch of friends sitting at this huge table. ‘Twas cool. [Redacted], Merja, Sharlene, Leanne, Serina, Heidi, [redacted]. All there. I ordered a veggie burger and [redacted] gave those of us who are grad-ing our presents. I got a yellow bag with a little yellow book of pomes in it and a yellow crayon and a yellow balloon. Leanne got stationery. Merja got a little plaster angel. Stacey got an antiqued picture frame. Lunch was good. We walked sloooowly back to school. Sewing was ok. We had a sub so I just sorta sewed and chatted and wrote Maxine a little note on her binder. At break I went with Janice, who was hungry, to the bakery to get a fritter. I helped–she couldn’t decide which one to get. Anyhoo, after break I wandered over to the library to see if Merja was still there, she’d said she might, but she wasn’t. So I wandered back to class and sewed and dismissed myself 3 minutes early. I hung around with those who were taking the bus until it came. Then me and Merja moseyed over to the community center where Merja disappeared to wait for Leanne to take her downtown and [I waited] for my mum.


    When mum came I went upstairs and voted. I voted. Wheeee! Was thrilling. [See note 2]


    After that I went home and tried to Internet only to have the phone ring and Jordan talk for half an hour. so I waited patiently, only to get a busy signal when the line was finally free. So I cut things for grad presents. [see note 3] Sailor Moon was good. I think it’s the one I had to borrow from Stacey last time because I missed it for some reason, I think. It’s the one where Serina finds out that Reeny in not only from the future, but a princess, protected by the sailor scouts. So we can sorta assume that she is Serina’s daughter. There’s a great battle between the Scouts and the sisters from the Dark Moon with cool music.


    After Sailor Moon I went to sell tickets at Alex Aitken’s fun fair. That was fun. Merja came about half way through and we mini golfed and went though the haunted house and sold tickets and counted money and got tattoos and rolled the big die for licorice and had a jolly good time. And I had a hot dog for supper, yum. I wore my Sailor Moon pin there (one of them) and little girls noticed it. One asked if she could have it so I gave it to her. I have no idea who she is and she was kinda obnoxious. But it was cool.


    I watched X-Files when I got home and ate red licorice. But not too much.


    It’s after twelve now, so my wonderful day is over. But I am awake: the result of too much red licorice, I am afraid.

    Note 1: I had excessively long hair. I’ve edited out an obscure description of braiding it up into loops. And there were some beads, too, which of course make it trey wacky.

    Note 2: My first time voting.

    Note 3: I think this is a reference to the collaged folders I was making for my friends for grad. Mod-podge. Decoupage. You know it. And I just now remembered that I filled those folders with personalized poetry (?) and pages torn out from magazines (?) for each person. Song lyrics maybe?

  • COVID-19 Journal – Entry 49

    During my couple of weeks vacation last October I was sorting through my paper archive and making them into a digital archive. That was discussed here, in Entry 39! I’m on holiday again now, so it has occurred to me to follow up with that project and perhaps finish it. Maybe? I don’t know. The external hard drive I got to store said archive on BROKE, so that was concerning, and not conducive to encouraging me to digitize more. (I was able to save my digital archive before it crapped out so at least there’s that, I suppose.)

    As I was going through all of my old papers and notes and things, I realized that I never really took the time to sit back and reflect on everything I learned at university. For example, I spent a great deal of my university years (ages 19 through 24 approx) reflecting on my teen years and childhood, both as a part of leaving them behind as I became an adult, but also mining them for story ideas as I completed my degree in creative writing. I needed lots of ideas on a regular schedule, and those years were at hand for inspiration and as the obvious “write what you know” paradigm.

    But what I’ve come to realize is that after university, I was off to the races. I looked more to where I was at the time, and to the future, and what I should do with my life. I looked less to the past. I mean, I totally carried what I learned in university with me: that is definitely my base of knowledge and the perspective through which I view the world. Maybe if I had gone into a more creative career I would have needed to mine it more, but as it turned out, I used only what I needed to keep myself happy creatively, with no pressure to produce.


    It could be, too, that at I had a lot of one thing after another through my 20s. I jumped from one educational program to the next, trying to figure out what I should do and what I should be, until I realized/decided that I should be someone who makes money and jumped at a chance to do that.

    Nothing is wasted, I’m not saying that, and I’m not regretting anything. It’s interesting looking back, and recalling this chunk of time I’ve never reflected upon before. I’m inspired by what I’ve been through and who I was then, and who I’ve become because of those experiences and that person.

    ***

    One of my favourite parts of looking through old schoolwork is that it documents clearly the development of my writing technique, craft, and voice. Looking at writing in first year and second year is fine. Not great, but fine. can see what I’m attempting. I’m playing around with the format of fiction. There’s some things that are really starting to work.

    Then in third year, everything just sucks. I don’t know if maybe I was out partying more, or just hanging out with friends in residence and not working so much on my school work. Or it could be that I was thinking too much: at that point where I’ve figured some stuff out, am getting a grasp on the rules, and just loose some of that natural voice I had before. All my stories from this year seem forced and un-genuine. Looking at them now, because I took care to save even the crap, I wonder what I was thinking, why I even bothered. Holy cow. So bad. I’m surprised I didn’t quit – but the. I probably didn’t notice how atrocious things were.

    Fourth year was a bit of a different time for me. I had to learn how to focus. I had a lot going on so I had to get organized exactly what I was focused on and when. I had a job working in wardrobe at the Phoenix theatre on campus, and that took some hours, and in the spring I did a technical internship at the Belfry, which took even more. In between those I was finishing my degree.

    While I asked my self why I bothered in third year, looking at writing from fourth year makes my say ahh. This is why. Especially in the second term, I found my voice. And I remember noticing at the time that something was different. I had more confidence, and I knew what I wanted to say, and what I wanted to accomplish with my craft. I spoke up I my workshop classes, because I had things to say about others works, too, where before I was shy. I was published in the student anthology, and read my pice out loud at its launch. (Ok that last one was only after being cornered by the editor in the photocopy shop after not responding to her emails…) Things started to make sense. And I still have the documentation that shows all that. It’s glorious.

    Looking at my old schoolwork, I wonder why I didn’t just do this, or that, the answer being so obvious to me now. I start editing my work. It would have worked better in such-and-such a way. But of course I didn’t know then what I know now. That’s why I was in school. Thank goodness that’s something I did.

  • COVID-19 Journal Entry 42

    It’s 2021 now. Good luck.

    When I started my COVID-19 Journal last March did I expect it to last until now? No!

    Did I expect to take a couple months off from writing about my experiences of the COVID year? Also no, but I did.

    • A) I was writing other things.
    • B) I am an inconsistent journaller anyway.
    • C) How much can I write about writing about myself staying at home? Well. Lots. And I shall continue to do so.

    It occurs to me as I review my past entries that I didn’t take the opportunity to write in October and November how it was a year since my trip to China – which ended up being my last overseas trip for a while. I did ponder this in late October: how it didn’t feel like it had been a year already, but how it also felt like way more than a year since I’d been there. When the pandemic started, it had only been a few months since I got back. In October the pandemic was still going on, but it couldn’t have been that long, could it? But it was.

    About a year ago today I was amazed at my good timing, leaving Asia just 6 weeks or so before news of the new coronavirus started coming out. Maybe it wasn’t a year ago today. Maybe it was a bit longer before I realized. I don’t remember exactly. Maybe it was Christmas. I remember at some point I opened Google maps so I could show Dad how far exactly I was from Wuhan during my trip. I spent a day looking at the Three Gorges Dam in Yichang, and that’s about 350km away, which was the closest I got. (However, as someone on my tour pointed out later, Wuhan was on a possible alternate route if our original plan went astray, but that part of the tour went according to the itinerary.)

    Three Gorges Dam Tourist Area Circa November 2019. I climbed up a high thing to take a photo of the view. I do not know what we’re looking at because I didn’t pay attention to our area guide. Bad Tourist.

    This week I’ve been thinking about February, 2020 or “The Last Normal Month.” Just in regular life I would have been going to work. We had settled into a schedule where we could work from home one day per week. My day was Thursday. Then I had dance three times per week, on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

    February is the last month in my calendar that has events that aren’t marked with a CANCELLED. I took to adding CANCELLED to things as they were called off in the spring as a sort of memento, but that was later, in March, April and May. In February, I saw a Kidd Pivot show in Victoria, and Dear Evan Hanson in Vancouver. I went to a Carlson’s School of Dance fundraiser for their Disney kids in Duncan. I think I saw a play at UVic, too, but I didn’t have it written down.

    At the end of Feb I had a dentist appointment, which led to a consultation with the endodontist at t the beginning of March, which led to half a root canal being done the next day because I thought it would be good to get it over with. I remember the endodontist saying that he’d be away at a conference that weekend, but there was an emergency line I could call if I had any issues The conference he attended ended up being the first superspreader event in BC, leading to all dentist offices being shut down for a while. My root canal wasn’t completed until July.

    I remember thinking at the start of February that I had a busy month coming up. Thank goodness that it was.

  • COVID-19 Journal Entry 39

    I’m on holiday this week and next so I should be sharing all my adventures, right? Yesterday I not only had a cup of decaffeinated coffee, but I also recieved a delivery of groceries. Oooooh. No wait, the groceries were on Tuesday. The days, it seems, are running together.

    This morning, in an act of holidaying, I remained in bed until 10:30. I wasn’t even asleep! I just lay there for a few hours, contemplating and such. It was splendid but at 10:30 it was too much: too much lying in bed and too much contemplating. I sometimes have a hard time coming home out of my fantasy world. Today there was nothing to stop me from staying there, except that I was ready to proceed with my day. It hung on for a while, and I distracted myself by getting dressed and having breakfast. Or lunch, actually by the time I got around to eating.

    My thoughts for the rest of the day were in 1997 and 1998 and then 2001 and 2002 as I scan paper mementos into my computer. I’m slowly organizing my history into digital folders on my hard drive, which is fine. I’m blessed/taxed with an extensive paper archive, just because I write so much. Then there’s school work, which is paper (why didn’t I get rid of more of this long ago). I’m having some trouble sorting out stories and poems that were for personal use away from those that were school assignments. Not really that much trouble, more fun/agony reading things I forgot I wrote. Note that I have mostly kept school work from art and writing classes – where I would have produced a creative work. Noticeably absent are English, Anthropology, Journalism and other classes that I have no recollection of taking because I got rid of the notes. But what would they contain? Interpretations. (I suppose that’s the reason.) I remember I really liked my anthropology text book from the one anthropology class I took during my first year of post-secondary education. That was at Malaspina College (now VIU). Good class. I found a rock for one assignment and said it could be used as a manicure tool – nail file and cuticle pusher. I can’t remember the point of that assignment. I should have kept the notes.

    Tomorrow: adventure to Rexall Drugstore.

    P.S. Mum told me her recipe for red cabbage last night. I made it today and it’s gooooooood. Even though I didn’t have any cloves – just a little bit stuck at the bottom of the container. Still good.

  • COVID-19 Journal – Entry 38

    Sounds

    Over the summer, people in my neighbourhood had get togethers in their apartments and parties in their yards. General merryment: talking and laughing, and sometimes music. Nice. I had my windows open all summer, so I could hear them, and I liked it. Some people, I know, are all “grrrr, who’s having fun within my hearing grrrr.” But that’s not me. I’m like, “where does that chatter originate?” and often it’s my direct neighbours, in the house next to my apartment building (i’m on the corner of the building, so tecnically they’re my closest neighbour on that side. And often there were groups of people on their balcony’s in the building across from me – and they’re across two parking lots, so I would be impressed that their voices carried. It’s nice to be in a neighbourhood where people are doing things.

    Once in a while over the summer I could hear piano music, but it was just too far away for me to tell if it was someone playing a piano, or if it was a recording. Either way, it was nice.

    Also, there are still a few people nearby who are celebrating pandemic workers at 7pm – there’s a drum and something that clangs on most nights. I heard it yesterday- my windows are mostly closed by then each day now so there may be more noises that I don’t hear. Also, I’m busy or have the TV on I don’t always hear them anymore. Some commitment going, there. They’ve been doing it since the last week of March and all through the summer.

    Another sound that maybe doesn’t delight me as much, is my loud upstairs neighbour, who is full of mysterious bangs and thumps. He doesn’t enrage me or anything. At the very most, if I’m not paying attention and there’s a sudden noise, I am put in mind of living at home back in the day when I’d hear a thump upstairs of my brother launching, closely followed by his loud descent down the stairs, followed closely by his finding me wherever I was and punching me. So I might get a little apprehensive now, out of an old habit, followed by some brief confusion (where am I? where are stairs?), and then relief, since no one is going to beat me. Once there was enough stomping I hoped maybe he’d taken up flamenco , but, wrong rhythm.

    Today I was distracted by the sound of rain. Lots of rain! And then wind. And then wind and rain! I was pleased I didn’t have to leave the house today. I was thinking of going on a jaunt to Staples and Whole Foods for supplies. I decided to order groceries for delivery instead. New pandemic habits fitting in well with old habits of laziness and not wanting to go out into the rain. Or not wanting to go anywhere.

    Going somewhere didn’t fit in today. When I got home from Duncan yesterday (I was there overnight Sunday for Thanksgiving) I had time enough to unpack all my turkey leftovers before HEADACHE set it. It wasn’t even just HEADACHE, though. It was extreme sleepiness, followed by headache? and then HEADACHE. So I “decided” to spend the afternoon in bed. I was a little impatient with that, and with myself. But I reminded myself I sometimes need to rest a little more than usual. So I opened the window in my bedroom (it wasn’t raining out yesterday – it was sunny) and made myself into a cocoon, and wind came in and cooled my head. I alternated between watching TV, and then sleeping, and then lying awake with my eyes closed and making up stories. I tried putting on podcasts, too, but I’d just sleep through them. Not in a podcast mood yesterday. I got up at six, but wasn’t really into major accomplishments.

    I feel better today. I went through more of my personal paperwork that I’m sorting through and scanning, which I find fun. Also, it’s turkey week and I’ve made soup, which, just as a timing thing, I had for breakfast. Then leftover turkey dinner at lunch time. Then no turkey for dinner, although a turkey sandwich seemed tempting. Turkey week.

    Cozy of the Day

    I still have this yellow cardigan. This is a photo from circa 2002 and also features my first sculpture project at Camosun. I kept this cardigan in my cubby in the sculpture hut (I think – it was kept somewhere at school for sure because I remember finding it smushed up and dusty at the back of a locker or something. So maybe I left it there on purpose, or maybe I forgot it one day and then just thought it was handy to keep there.) (Photo from my personal archive – I’ve forgotten who took the photo.)

  • COVID-19 Journal Entry 33

    Light – Lighting / Dark – Darking / Cozy – Cozying

    I went shopping today. At the physical location of stores. I visited Whole Foods for groceries, which was fine. I’d been a few times in the summer and they were early adopters of asking all customers to wear masks. Also I go right at the opening time, so there are just a few people, and they are all in masks. Also, in the summertime I would buy many many cartons of dairy-free ice creams. I didn’t feel like ice cream today, but I got some bread and yogurts (that’s right, many yogurts.)

    Next I ventured to Canadian Tire at Hillside, which was also fine. They don’t ask that everyone wear a mask, but it was early and there were just a few people. Only one spot of bother when a gang of a family blocked my way at the end of the lightbulb aisle. Not just so I couldn’t keep my distance from them, I just really couldn’t get by. They were really excited about lightbulbs. Luckily I am adept (adept!) at driving a shopping cart so I turned it right around and left via the other end of the aisle. I know, “excuse me excuse me please” would have worked too but they didn’t look interested in keeping their chatty breath six feet away from me so whatever.

    I treated/bribed myself with a Starbucks. Not only my first Starbucks of the pandemic, but my first (decaf) coffee beverage in nearly two years. It was tasty. I’ve said this before: the coffee part is nice, but what I really like are the pumps of sweet syrups that are used to make the coffee a product suitable to consumption. Sugar is my addiction, not caffeine. I know this because I went over a year without caffeine, no problem. But sugar, I think of you every day.

    Canadian Tire! I needed a new floor lamp as my old one wore out. I wondered to myself if I really need a light source in my living room, and then the sun went down. I might not have needed one in July, but today I do. I had to track down a Canadian Tire sales associate because the box didn’t say if a lightbulb was included, or what kind to get if one was needed. According to her beepy thing, I needed a 40 watt LED lightbulb (quoted here because I committed it to memory). But when I got home and looked for a place to put said 40 watt LED lightbulb, there was none! In place of a light bulb there is sort of a circuit board that glows, or something? And I only know there’s a circuit board (or something) because I ripped off the shade part of the light that I guess wasn’t supposed to be removed? Because there’s no lightbulb needed… Magic?? I suppose. (The shade part fit back where it was supposed to go, BTW. I didn’t break my new lamp or anything.)

    I also got some toilet paper while at Canadian Tire, because it exists there, and some cleaning supplies. And some hangers with clips.

    I had to get hangers with clips because I recently invested in rain pants and I don’t know where to keep them.

    I recently invested in rain pants because I plan to walk to work during the fall and winter months, and I expect rain. I can drive if it’s raining too hard. I did that on Friday, but it wasn’t raining as hard as I thought and it’s far more satisfying to arrive at work after a walk. Also, I had to pay for parking in a location that is about a seven minute drive from my house. Also, won’t everyone be impressed when I arrive at work after walking in the rain? I bet they will.

    **

    I put up my Christmas tree a couple of weekends ago, when the evening light started disappearing with the end of summer. Don’t judge. It was just the tree with lights for a while because the lights are the best part, and also because the decorations are kept in another box that takes a little more digging to access in my storage space. So I got those out today, along with my fall swearers and now I have sparkly-light and cozy warm.

    Note: I have for some reason started calling any sweater/hoody/warm garment a “Cozy.” E.g. “Where is my cozy?” –> I said this today with nothing particular in mind, but I was cold and I found a sweater to put on. It’s a basic summoning, I suppose, of any item that might be around that will keep me warm. Like a tea cozy. A Lindsie Cozy. Whatever. A scarf, maybe, or a blanket.

    When Susan and I travelled to England three years ago, I bought us blankie-scarves to take with us. We wore them on the plane, and I remember draping mine over me as a napping blanking in our AirBnb in York. They might also have been effective as scarves in the cool English autumn, but I don’t remember. They were definitely soft and cozy.

    My mum bought me a new blankie scarf for my birthday this year. It’s a big woven square, and it’s got both navy and light blues, with yellow. Lightweight if spread out, but warm if scrunched up around my neck. It’s very soft. I didn’t get it until some weeks after my birthday due to the pandemic starting and all that. It didn’t matter, because Mum said it would be a nice scarf for the fall. And indeed it would have been if I hadn’t immediately adopted it as my item of comfort over the spring and summer. It’s a perfect weight for a summertime nap blanket, and is just big enough to cover me when I’m curled up. When folded in half (either lengthwise, or on the diagonal) it’s a cozy shawl, nice for cool mornings while working from home. I folded it up and put it on my chest to prop up my iPad while I was sick; also during this time I rolled it up and propped up my head to be more comfortable while watching streaming things on my laptop in bed. It will probably even make it into use as a scarf now that fall is here.

    Socks of the day

    My new blankie-scarf being used as socks. Or! My new cozy being used as a cozy cozy.
    Circa August, 2020.

  • COVID-19 Journal Entry 28

    The other day I wrote about forgetting ideas that come into my head at random moments, and then remembering them; and then trying to record ideas instead so I don’t forget them.

    Since writing that entry, I’ve developed a new system of capturing these ideas: I started a new Note in the Notes app on my phone with the title “Blog Ideas”. While setting that up, I found an idea I wrote a year or so ago that was meant to go up on Facebook, or here, but never made it.

    So here.

    Egg Salad Sandwishes

    September 7, 2019

    Usually when I want an egg salad sandwich, I think of Subway, and then talk myself out of going there because I usually have eggs at home so I can make my own. And usually I don’t want to do that so I go without. But not today!

    P.S. My home made egg salad sandwiches are much better than Subway’s due to the 50/50 egg to parsley ratio.