Category Archives: Memories

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.

COVID 19 Journal Entry 27

It’s been a while since I’ve kept a regular journal like this. I was looking back in my archive the other day (looking for evidence of the last time I read Mrs. Dalloway – there was none) and I was reminded that I used to practice my journal writing on a far more regular basis than I do now. It wasn’t daily, but it was frequent. It reads like I was writing for an audience of me – my voice and sass is clear. I still try to intill my entries with these, but I also try to make them intelligible to other readers – maybe not so many inside jokes – that is, jokes that are only jokes inside of my own head.

Writing a regular journal of my daily life is different than writing a journal when I’m travelling. With travel journaling I can fall back on just expanding my daily itinerary if I can’t think of anything else. Or just describe the scene around me. Everything is interesting when I’m on adventure.

At the beginning of COVID, when we had all just gone into lockdown, we were all on an adventure. Lots of new experiences to reflect upon. Now as I settle into the new normal, it’s less an adventure (ok, “adventure”) and more routine – and routine was what I didn’t want to be writing about when I stopped journaling. Routine isn’t interesting. I’d be writing the same thing everyday. Ironic maybe that I have even less to write about now that I’m at home most of the time, and yet here I am still writing about it (with, admittedly, some breaks). It’s like phone calls with my mum. We decided to up our weekly phone calls to twice a week, and we make fun of how we shouldn’t have anything to talk about since we aren’t doing anything. But one weekly one-hour call has turned into 2 two-hour calls per week. We still manage to find things to talk about.

Since I’m writing more regularly now, I’ve remembered some habits I should be following. I don’t know if I’m just older now and forgetful, or if i’m just way out of practice, but a really god habit I need to reintroduce is to write down any idea that comes to me right away. I keep thinking of really good ideas and then forgetting them, but not forgetting that I had an idea, just what it was. Then I get that hollow weird brain feeling where I know I’m missing something but can’t remember what.

I did this last week during lunch break during one of my office days. I was walking back along Cook Street after buying ice cream and had the greatest idea for a journal entry.

“This would make a good journal entry,” I thought to myself, and started composing. But then I was distracted by walk signals, and navigating around people on the sidewalk. I was even distracted by my organizing the rest of my work day – should I write said journal entry during my break later or save it for after work?

By the time I was back at the office, and stored my ice cream in the freezer, the idea was gone. I was back at my desk for a while before I remembered that I’d had an idea. But what was it? Nope. Gone.

I never do this, but I totally retraced my thoughts back to try and retrieve it. It was just that good of an idea. I had it before I approached the intersection with Pandora Street. Then I passed the man with the beard, turned my head away from him because the sidewalk was narrow and there was traffic. I crossed Pandora even though the light was flashing don’t walk, but I made it ok, and it’s a one-way street so no one was turning right. Then just a short wait for the next light to turn – I stared over a the bus stop and that’s when I decided I had a good idea for a journal entry. When I crossed Cook Street, a truck had to wait while I crossed – if I hadn’t crossed at the last minute across Pandora he wouldn’t have had to wait. There was fencing up around the grass along the parkway along Pandora. Was this where people had been camping at the start of lockdown? I hadn’t been over here to see. Then passing another pedestrian, but the sidewalk got wider along side the new condo building. There’s a new daycare on the lower level of that – I think that’s the one I read about because the residents of the condo are annoyed that the daycare kids can use their outdoor common area upstairs. Should I work of my journal now when I get back? I might have five minutes left of my lunch break. Or I could use my 15 minutes now instead of later…

I think by that point I had stopped thinking about the idea and then lost it. And I still had that feeling of a vacancy in my memory. (That’s a better way of expressing a “hole in my head” isn’t it?) I replayed my steps a few times. Was I thinking about it before my approach to Pandora? What was I thinking as I left the ice cream store? As I rounded the corner back on to Cook? When had I started thinking about it?

And the *POP* there it was. My fully formed idea. I typed it into the notes on my phone with an exclamation mark! I plan to write about it soon.

December 25, 2019 – Hong Kong Follow-up

It has taken me a while to finish up my travel journal for China. There are several reasons. First, by the time I got to Hong Kong, the last stop on my tour, I was tired and grumpy and didn’t want to write any more. Second, I forgot to finish: I reviewed my entries a few weeks after getting back and noticed I’d left things hanging. Some excuses: I was pretty jet-laggy when I got home, and then I was sick. It took me a while to feel back to normal, and then I was enmeshed in my regular routine. Unfortunately, my regular routine doesn’t include writing, apparently.

Anyway! Hong Kong.

Hong Kong: November 7-9, 2019.

There was a long day of travel heading to Hong Kong from Yangshuo. There were two trains involved, and once were were settled on those everything was fine, but there was a lot of waiting before and in between. The station where we transferred was huge (I don’t remember the city) and we had time to walk around and find a snack while our guide watched our bags. (He did that a lot for us. So nice to be able to wander without having to lug around my suitcase).

According to my ticket, we transferred trains in Shenzhenbei!

We found McDonalds and a few of us ordered Happy Meals by accident and got toys promoting the movie Frozen 2, but also got a wee cup of corn as the side dish.

The last train, thankfully, was only about half an hour. Then things got bewildering.

First off, we got off underground, so that is disorienting anyway. Then we had to go through border control, which was located right there at the station. That was just like passport checking and customs like at the airport (or any other land border crossing, just part of the underground station), and I’m good at that and I was the first of our group through. Then we walked underground a while longer, and the station turned out to be a transportation hub for the city’s subway as well. When we got outside again we were at the end of the street where our hotel was located.

I found that all baffling at the time, but now that I think about it, it was all pretty straightforward, and our guide was with us the whole time to help us through customs, and through the underground station. It was, however, a long day of travel, after almost three weeks of the tour. I was tired in lots of ways.

That night was the last official day of the tour, and TV group had a farewell dinner. It wasn’t much different from all the other dinners on the trip, because we mostly always all ate together. But, our group leader ate with us, which he didn’t usually do, and we had a bit of a debrief about the tour after we ate. There were positive reviews all around, and of course a few suggestions for improvement (mostly just wanting to spend more time in some of the locations… and to not use the guesthouse on Emei Shan where we’d ended up in our backup plan). We had many compliments for our group leader, and he gave us gifts of wooden bookmarks he designed himself. So beautiful.

Gift from my tour leader. That’s Confucius at the top, then one of his sayings: “Isn’t it a great pleasure having friends coming from afar.” The two wee symbols are my name in Chinese characters. The circle at the bottom is a character that is a blessing for happiness.

That was my last night sharing a room with my roommate. We didn’t talk about it at all, except to mention that I might leave my bag there in the morning if my room wasn’t ready. I was staying one night after the tour, she was staying 2 or 3 days longer than that.

There were a lot of us staying at least of the Friday to explore Hong Kong before flying out at various times on Saturday. Most everyone staying planned a day of seeing the major sites of the city. That seemed a little much for me, (being tired, grumpy, and fed up with touristing around in a group) and opted to wander alone not too far from the hotel. I found a Marks and Spencer foods, which had a very similar selection of quick foods as found in England, and that cheered me up. I also went through the Museum of Hong Kong until it was overrun with really loud school children. Holy cow! There were so many! I had to get out of there.

It was really warm in Hong Kong- around 25 or 26 degrees in the day, and just a little cooler at night. So nice. It made me dread getting home to whatever weather was going on there.

I rested in my hotel room for a lot of the afternoon, napping and packing.

I joined up with the group again in the evening. We were meant to go for dinner at some point. First we went to the nightly light show at the waterfront at 8pm. The buildings across the water were lit up and flashed along with music. It was about a 10 minute display.

While we were watching, or as we were waiting for the show to start, we started to hear chanting somewhere behind us. We got a little nervous because we were on alert for protests. The group had caught the tail end of a skirmish between protesters and police earlier in the day near a government building. They chanting continued a bit during the show, and we went to check it out when it was done.

We were on a walkway just above a park area, where there were protesters moving. They were dressed all in black, and some had masks on – many didn’t. We gathered information from member of the crowd observing with us: it was a memorial, and I found out the next day that is was one of several that took place around the city. A protester had died as the result of allegedly being chased off a parkade by police. Protesters/mourners were laying flowers and lighting candles at the base of a clock tower. They sang for a bit, and chanted.

A few of the older members of our group got nervous and headed back towards the hotel, three of us stayed to watch for a bit longer. We didn’t see any police, but it was a memorial, and also, it was a very touristy area. But there was a large block of protesting individuals standing at attention – like they might react harshly if anyone messed with them. We stayed only 10 or 15 minutes longer.

After that we still hadn’t had dinner so we walked and looked for a place, but nothing suited so we ended up at a McDonalds. McNuggets, fries, and a chat.

It felt weird that night sleeping in a room on my own!

My flights the next day we’re uneventful, and I spent most of my travel time just maintaining my sanity after having travelled so much. The only good part was the private transfer I booked to get me to the airport. It was a super fancy car and a driver who was right on time. I had time to hug my travel buddies goodbye and that was the actual end of my tour.