a peek inside the fishbowl

You can read this post or click here to listen to it on SoundCloud.

I was at the grocery store. I was feeling on edge, in a mood at it were. I had a list of to-dos and frankly I really didn’t want to be there on a Saturday morning. I was in the produce department, debating the merits of buying myself a seven-dollar bag of mini-peppers when I saw a young mother, not wearing a mask. It’s interesting, isn’t it, how much people who aren’t wearing masks stand out. They might as well have a beacon shining out of their foreheads or something.

We live in a time when it’s actually weird to see someone’s entire face.

A wave of annoyance and anger welled up inside of me. And I had questions, lots of questions: Why wasn’t she wearing a mask? Why is she exempt? What is it with people!??

This woman’s son was about five years old. He was cute, doing what kids do, alternately hanging on the cart or running up the aisle. Interestingly, he was wearing a mask.

She and I found ourselves in the same aisle in produce. I debated whether I should say anything. Should I say anything? Or leave it? Ultimately, I could not help myself. I felt the words bursting out of my mouth before I knew it: “You forgot your mask.”

The way I see it, I was stating a fact. I may have sounded judgemental or accusatory, and if so, I didn’t mean to. When I really think back to that moment I felt annoyed and angry, as I mentioned, but also strangely hurt by all of this. I don’t like wearing a mask either, but I do. When I’m wearing it I feel gross and sweaty and I can’t wait to rip it off my face the first chance I get. But I continue to wear it because it’s the right thing to do. I’m doing my part, so why aren’t you, lady?

You forgot your mask.

I actually walked by her as I said it, perhaps subconsciously protecting myself from a potential screaming match with an anti-masker. I don’t know, it’s the coward’s way. As I glided by with my cart, I saw her dive into her purse.

“Oh my goodness, you’re right,” she said. She pulled on the mask. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem. It happened to me last week,” I said. And honestly, it did. I popped into a mall over my lunch break and was so spaced out I didn’t even realize I forgot to put it on until I was a dozen or so steps past the doors.

I overheard the young mother whispering to her son. They were standing next to those seven-dollar peppers I was looking at earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me I wasn’t wearing my mask?” she asked him, but I didn’t hear his reply.

I’m trying something new. Here’s an audio version of this blog post.

I am a big fan of treating myself to something delicious when I’m feeling rough around the edges and it was one of those days.

So picture this: I was standing in line at Starbucks. Mark was waiting in the car. I was second or third in line, not tuned into my surroundings at all. I was almost zombie-like, my mind blank, waiting for my turn. I’d been standing there for two or three minutes before I realized that Christmas music was playing overhead. Christmas music? Already? That’s when I looked up, and noticed the red and green cups, the gingerbread on the menu, and all of the holiday merch. Christmas had arrived at Starbucks. I had walked into a franchised Christmas setting and had not even noticed. 

The old, pre-pandemic me would not have been too thrilled about this. After all, it was barely November, too early to get on the Christmas train, right? But something inside me hitched, and shifted, and that Christmas song settled over me like a gentle snowfall.

It was my turn at the counter and the barista asked me for my order. I snapped out of my caffeine-starved reverie and conveyed Mark’s coffee wishes. Then, searching for inspiration, I glanced up at the menu board even though I had gone in there already knowing what unsweetened coffee beverage I wanted. 

Suddenly, tears sprang up in my eyes. They came from nowhere, or maybe they came from somewhere deep down after many months of fear and doubt and feeling out of control.  

TEARS. AT STARBUCKS. 

The barista, standing patiently behind her plexiglass pandemic partition, waited for my order. I’m not even sure if she even noticed my brief wave of emotion.

“I didn’t know how much I needed Christmas until this very minute,” I said. She laughed quietly, kindly. I felt like she understood where I was coming from. I pulled myself together and placed the other half of my order, my half.  Uncharacteristically, I found myself ordering a caramel brulee latte from their ‘festive flavours’ menu, as well as a big gingerbread cookie to share (although I gave myself the bigger half later). As I walked back to the car I thought, WHO IS THIS teary-eyed, sweet coffee swilling person?

I still don’t know what happened, only that I had a moment. At Starbucks. Sigh. 

In a typical year I am not interested in celebrating the holidays this early, but this is not a typical year. I’m all in, so bring on the glitter, the lights, the gingerbread, and the Christmas music. I’ll try not to tear up when I hear it next time.

So, yikes. It’s been awhile since I’ve updated here. My explanation for this is rather fuzzy and lame. I’m writing more than ever in my day job which leaves me without too many extra words to share. Plus, there are Life Things and sometimes Life Things also take up a lot of mental energy, if you know what I mean.

I was actually going to write about our Thanksgiving, but now it seems so far away. The stores are already decked out for Christmas! I will say this, the girls were here and it was very nice to be together.

Thanksgiving gets a total makeover when little kids grow up and become young adults. Honestly, my head is still spinning. Wasn’t it just yesterday that the youngest regaled us with a Thanksgiving poem she learned at school?

Turkey turkey,
Gobble gobble,
Eat too much and
Wobble wobble.

Although the youngest did NOT recite a poem this year, she did assemble a charcuterie platter that looked like something out of a magazine.

When adult children are on the scene it means there is grownup snacking and cocktail mixing, and 1000% less supervision. It is a delight.

On the Monday, the eldest and I went on a nature walk in the Hampton Park woods. She hooked me up with this really good app called Seek. Basically, you hover your camera over any living thing for a few seconds and the app comes back with identifying information: it’s name, taxonomy, range, and if it’s a mushroom, whether it’s edible or not. Suddenly this ordinary walk in the woods became a scavenger hunt, one with pretty cool results (that is, if you’re into mushrooms and other flora and fauna):

One of my favourite things about this is the names of the actual specimens. Above is the Violet-Toothed Polpore, Funeral Bell, and Bleeding Fairy Helmet.

The app has fun challenges too. The “Arachnid Challenge” is one of them, but I’m not sure if I’ll be signing up for that one. (!)

We brought Piper on our mushroom hunt. Being the funny and smart dog that she is, Piper has learned that she’s likely to get a treat if she hops up on a log and turns up the cute factor so she does that all the time now. It’s quite comical.

I guess I did end up writing about Thanksgiving weekend, didn’t I? Next up: CHRISTMAS. I can hardly believe it.