The view from the balcony is in itself freeing. The tops of houses, even the tops of some apartment buidings are visible. Lake Ontario is off to the right with the semi-islands of Prince Edward County providing a lush backdrop for the sailboats that race in and out of the yacht club on the waterfront. Since we are on the top floor, birds seem to fly right at us, then deke up at the last minute to clear our rooftop. You can hear the flutter of their wings against the air. No wonder I feel free.Perhaps - actually, no perhaps to it, I'm sure this is the real reason - it is the lack of possessions that makes me feel free. We have very little - just the essentials like computers and desks for each of us (Ha!); folding lawn chairs in the living room for watching the one channel we get on TV (one my mother-in-law discarded when she got a new one, along with her old DVD and VCR players); a small round table in the dining room that was second-hand twenty years ago. Oak chairs in the dining room came with a house bought in 1972. I stripped them about 10 years ago and this summer I gave the two that had not come unglued a coat or two of varathane and they look pretty good. Not the most comfortable of all chairs, but servicable.
The bed we started out with was an inflatable one that we bought a few years ago for guests. Figured it would do us just fine while we're here. Not. John spent Monday and Tuesday on it and, by the time I got here on Wednesday, was determined that we needed an actual bed. I slept on it Wednesday night and after a completely sleepness night, on Thursday we went out and bought a real bed. The cheapest new bed we could find (about $300) and we're sleeping like kings now. What a treat. And that's the extent of what we possess. Our bedspread is one that I bought when I got married the first time 36 years ago. It has a tear in it now but it keeps us warm and it covers the queensized bed for which I have no other blankets that fit. It is snuggy and warm. We have four knives, four forks, four soup spoons and four teaspoons. The dishes we are using are the ones that John had when he was in University 26 years ago. The newspaper they were wrapped in was dated 1981. A few kitchen gadgets - like a can opener and a vegetable peeler and we' re good to go. I'm very happy.
Have been here nearly three days now and apartment living agrees with me. Housework consists only of sweeping the bathroom, vacuuming the living room and bedroom and wiping down the counters and sinks. The neighbours are quiet and must not cook much because there are no food smells in the hallway.
They may not like us when I get started using the bottle of fish sauce I bought yesterday (found a store that sells Chinese groceries, and Caribbean, African, Indian and much more). I've heard "Hello" and "Good Day" from neighbours here more often than I've heard in eight years in Ottawa. Everyone is cheerful, polite and outgoing. They hold doors for you, let you in if you're fumbling for your front door key simply because they recognize you from seeing you in the elevator or at the mailboxes.I don't have to worry about whether there's a groundhog building a condominium in our backyard or whether sumac is pushing its way up through the deck. If something breaks, I can just call the super rather than worrying about how to go about repairing it myself. I have to clean up only after myself and, if I tidy as I go, which I do, I minimize even that. Can't say the same for John but I'm cutting him some slack because he's so busy with his class assignments.
We went to a country fair last night in Picton. John is assigned to cover it and a music festival tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the latter. The fair was interesting from a sociological point of view but even that gets stale when one's feet are searing from all the walking and the bathrooms are nowhere in sight. I attended my first tractor pull and I have a feeling it will be my last. Luckily we were on the right side of the venue when the black smoke was pouring out of the exhaust as the tractors strained against The Terminator. I learned that there is an whole industry in building tractors especially designed to compete at these rodeos. The drivers even wear asbestos suits and full helmets. There were firemen on the scene. When I asked about that, John said it's probably because they're burning nitro. Sounds dangerous. Would the firemen save the onlookers or the tractors? The amount of fuel that is burned at these events is astounding. Let's see. Each tractor probably burns every ounce in its tanks trying to pull the weight. The weight machine itself has an engine for driving about. A front-end loader idles constantly at the side of the track to smooth the dirt back into position after each pull. Several generators rumble away, each powering four high-energy lights to illuminate the scene. What waste! What pollution! What obscenity! There oughta be a law. Maybe I should be grateful. At least they weren't using horses.
John has gone back to the fair this afternoon for the mutt (you heard right) competition and for the demolition derby later on this evening. A journalist has to be inpartial, so it wouldn't help him for me to be there muttering about the pollution and wastefulness of it all. I stayed home and will get myself in gear to start some writing this afternoon ... perhaps.
I just called all the Subways in town and none of them sell Garden burger subs. They didn't even know what I was talking about. The last lady said, when I explained what they were and that they were available in Ottawa, that they hadn't reached here yet. That's how it used to be in Newfoundland years ago. We will survive without Gardenburgers. Certainly we'll save money by not eating there. Too bad, though, because I love Gardenburgers. Maybe I'll write to Subway and complain.
More to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment