Saturday Weather

Today when I arrived home at just past four following my weekly Saturday outing I felt a bit at a loss for what to do.  Usually I make a big dish of food, always vegetarian, while listening to the Next Chapter on CBC Radio One where Shelagh Rogers is interviewing various interesting authors.  I looked in the fridge and saw that there is no room to fit another vegetarian dish and I am simply going to have to finish eating the chocolate red lentil mole that is occupying part of the bottom shelf.  What a privilege.  I am considered poor by Canadian standards.  My wage is hardly $1.50 more than minimum and I am blessed with a fridge crammed full of good food.  Never complain about a fridge that is too full.  I had this conversation today with a fellow I know in the Café where I sit with my sketchbook for two hours ever Saturday.  He mentioned how good we have it living in Canada and I could only agree.  Here most of us open the fridge door and wonder what we're going to eat for supper.  In some countries, given that they have a fridge, they will open it and wonder if they are going to eat supper.  I didn't trouble to mention to my friend that here in wealthy and privileged Canada we do have a growing population of people who have to rely on food banks, those who when they pull open the fridge door and wonder if they will have anything to eat today.  I put a baked potato in the oven and will soon heat up the leftover mole and some leftover broccoli mixed with leftover cabbage and a fresh red pepper in vinegar and chili.  Briefly I had to put in earplugs and crank the radio up really loud to staunch the shrieking of my Mexican neighbour's grandson across the hall when she had opened briefly the door to let in her daughter.  The kid has one of those piercing shrieks that could shatter glass and absolutely no self-control.  I used to get mad at my neighbour about her out of control grandson but now I suspect that he might have special needs, perhaps fetal alcohol spectrum disorder so now if need be I just reach for the earplugs and turn the radio up.

I'm reading two or three books simultaneously right now, alternating between Timothy Findley's "Headhunter" which is a novel about mental illness and art snobs, and a Spanish (I'm reading in Spanish) book called "Los dos mensajes de Islam" or The Two Messages Of Islam, and I will also likely have a peek at my Spanish translation of Stieg Larsson's Millennium trilogy if I don't watch an episode of Schitt's Creek instead.  I have only recently discovered this well done Canadian comedy on CBC online about this obscenely rich family that loses everything and has to resettle in a small town.  I am also currently reworking another painting.  This one features a green peacock:



All while drinking decaf Earl Grey so I guess I am having rather a twee kind of day.

On the way back on the bus this afternoon I chatted briefly with a lady around my age or a bit older about being glad that I didn't bruise anyone with my much stuff while getting on the bus (knapsack, bag of groceries and big umbrella).  She is going to be spending the weekend in Pemberton which I have never seen before and as I mentioned to her that here I am visiting other countries and there is so much I haven't seen in my own back yard.  We agreed that it is very helpful knowing Spanish while visiting Latin America (in my case Bogota Colombia this March).  At the No Frills I said to the young lady at the check out that one of her coworkers was tossing bananas.  I said that I already talked to him about it (I was nice but firm) and he was good about it and agreed to take it easy.  I did not want to identify him since I don't want him to lose his job and he was nice.

Before that I enjoyed a lovely four mile walk through Shaughnessy and Kerrisdale feeling glad that I haven't had to use my umbrella today.  The rain stopped this morning and it's been decent ever since, even with the odd patch of sunshine.  There are green moss and ferns everywhere and snowdrops coming into bloom.  The air is cool, clean and invigorating.  I would even call it delicious.  I have been talking on my phone all day off and on to my imaginary friend, Fulano, in Spanish, recording on my voice mail and playing it back to check my fluency.  It is a sneaky and very effective way of practicing Spanish in public and folks often look at me strangely as if they are thinking that I don't look Mexican or Spanish (their idea of how Spanish people should look anyway) so what am I doing speaking fluent Spanish, while I'm sure native Spanish speakers look on with pity as I struggle pathetically to master their language.

I saw two Anna's hummingbirds today, singing from tree branches but in this light they appear grey and colourless since they need the right angle of light to show their brilliant colours.  They have become very common here during the winter.  Imagine.



This morning following a very decent sleep I got up early and made bread.  It was lovely.

Dinner is now ready Gentle Reader.  Provecho!