a peek inside the fishbowl

We’ve just returned from a camping trip to Algonquin Provincial Park. I was so tired last night I could barely finish my dinner. Today, we are slowly unpacking and putting away our gear, sorting photos, doing laundry, and slathering Benadryl on our bug bites. I will say this for now, it was one of the best camping trips we’ve had and will be tough to top. More to come!

Here we are, July 7. I remember when I was first sent home from the office in March 2020. I packed a bag and as I closed the door behind me I thought to myself: how long can this thing last, anyway? Two years ago today, the youngest daughter and I were far far far away, on a monumental trip to Thailand. One year ago today, I was working from my home office. I still am, actually. Since then we’ve been muddling through the best we can. I’m happy to report that although this thing is not over I feel hopeful that things are finally heading in the right direction. Good things are happening!

Both Mark and I have had both our second vaccinations. Each daughter has had one, with their second doses coming up this month.

In other good news: we have had RESTAURANT MEALS ON PATIOS. The first one was to celebrate Father’s Day. We made a reservation at Woodenheads** in Kingston, a place we’d been to many times.

** I should point out that the Covid protocols were A+ here, by the way, but I’m haunted a bit by the fact you had to ask a server to use the washroom because I don’t really even know why. I think it’s because they only have one or two washrooms and they are singles? Maybe in a confined area? Thankfully, my bladder was exceptionally strong that evening, but I did worry. (This is weird of me, I know, but it’s like I was transported back to first grade or something. Or French class. “Excusez moi Madame mais est-ce que je peux aller aux toillettes s’il vous plaît ?”)

It’s very likely that you have an image of the four of us raising our glasses and toasting the fact that we were all together, in a restaurant, on a patio, after months of takeout on lockdown. Smiles as wide as our faces! Laughter ringing through the restaurant! Good cheer and good food! Bravo! We made it!

While we were certainly happy to be enjoying quality pizza as we always do, we actually forgot to make any formal acknowledgement or declarations. We ordered drinks, chatted, ate our dinner, and then walked down the street for gelato as if nothing happened. I thought our first visit would be a celebration. Instead, it was just a… nice dinner as a family. Isn’t that strange? It wasn’t until much later that I was like, hey, that was the first time in a long time! I didn’t even take a photo. (!!)

Mark and I went to another patio here in the Ottawa area recently. Unfortunately, although we did raise a glass, I had had my vaccination the day before and was feeling woozy. It was also hot, and I was drinking diet Pepsi because I was feeling so crappy. All that to say, I will use this opportunity to myself that the post-pandemic patio experience should be enjoyed for what it is, and not built up in our minds too much. Seriously. All year I’ve been thinking PATIO. PATIO. PATIOoooooo. It was my mantra. It was one of the things I missed the most about being on lockdown. I missed the patio experience, but also just simply having the option to hit a patio, know what I mean?

In other news, I went on a wee spending spree in relation to our back deck. I went to Home Depot and bought a new plant and a planter. It was fun driving home! (And by “fun” I mean “not fun at all.”)

… and here it is, in situ:

I also bought a $50 outdoor candle at Homesense. Please refrain from judgement. I really wasn’t myself that day.

I admit it’s a terribly expensive candle, but it is hefty, and in a nice pot which can be reused. It has three wicks and shines so brightly I fully expect it to damage my vision. It’s a citronella candle, and it smells like coconuts, which I love. The sad part of this story, other than the fact my wallet is $50 lighter, is that Mark hates the smell of it and I may never get to light it in his presence. Sigh.

The other day I wandered down to Westboro to pick up a loaf of bread from Mamie Clafoutis. I can’t express to you how happy that made me — the mere act of walking down the street on a sunny day to buy something so simple and lovely as a fresh loaf of bread put a smile on my face.

As I approached the front door I donned my favourite mask and scanned for signage. It’s strange to think how much my train of thought has changed for such a simple thing as opening the door to a shop I’ve been in dozens of times: Only four customers allowed inside at a time, okaaay, but that means I need to open the door and step over the threshold (a BIT, not TOO MUCH) and do a head count. Hmm. So there’s one guy over here, a married couple over there. Couldn’t one of them have waited outside? Ok, so that’s three and I am the fourth so I think I can proceed, oops, I better keep my distance from the guy in front of me…!

I ordered my loaf while drinking in the view of all of the gorgeous treats in the display case but didn’t buy anything else. I paid up (are you taking cash now?) and made my way along the one way exit route that all customers must travel to leave the shop through a different set of doors. My eyes scanned the upturned chairs and cordoned off tables. In pre-COVID times I rarely came here to linger with a coffee and a pastry but I suddenly missed it very much, not just the act of eating a pastry with a friend or a loved one or even alone in a bustling cafe, but having the option to do it in the first place.

As I neared the door I realized I’d caught up to the couple ahead of me. They’d taken some extra time to doctor their coffees with cream and sugar and stood at the exit door. When I finally approached he was out on the sidewalk and she was closer to the door, and consequently, to me. She held the door open for me to walk through. It happened so quickly I almost missed it. For a moment we were closer than the prescribed 2m guideline! She touched something and then I touched it! I said thank you and she said you’re welcome! And then we all went on our way.

It seems silly to recount here, but I honestly don’t remember the last time I’d had this kind of exchange, one that involved shared air/space/place/time with a total stranger in my own neighbourhood. I’ve missed it very much.