Summer In April

Well, Gentle Reader, it's back.  Summer in April.  Just like last year.  The New Normal.  Likely caused by global warming and I feel guilty about enjoying it with the knowledge that this could also presage the end of the world as we know it.  I left my apartment this morning with a sweater only to return almost immediately to take it off.  I still saw people, early risers like me, clad in a couple of layers and apparently suffering for it.  It has remained comfortably warm all day, like a sunny day in June. 

I have had time to walk everywhere.  I detoured by a park on my way to the Skytrain this morning, logging an extra mile.  Then my middle client cancelled (I still get paid for the time) and I walked the four miles or so from Commercial Drive to Granville, stopping for an hour or something in a café on Main Street where I chilled with an iced Americano while working on my current drawing, a green peacock.



Isn't he a pretty birdy?  They are a bit larger and taller than the familiar blue or Indian peafowl that we are normally familiar with.  They also tend to be aggressive and can be dangerous to humans.



By the way, Gentle Reader, Peacock is the word used to name the male of the species, Peahen is the female and Peafowl is the general name of the species.  You're welcome!

I later visited a client staying in a locked ward at the university.  His nurse wanted to know why I was overdressed given the hot weather, even though I'm not today really.  I am wearing a loose fitting blue cotton shirt and black jeans, socks and while I was outside, running shoes.  I never wear shoes indoors unless I've forgotten to vacuum.  Instead of getting defensive I agreed that my shirt is a bit heavy for the warm weather.  She wanted to know why I wasn't wearing sandals.  My excuse is that socks and runners provide better support since I walk a lot.  She tried to tell me that there are excellent sandals available with built in support.  I said thank you, not wanting to get into an inappropriate argument about my personal haberdashery in front of my client, who himself was wearing two jackets in the hot weather.  The fact of the matter is I used to wear sandals and flip-flops and because I walked everywhere my feet would always be filthy by the end of the day but why bore her with details.  Besides, most people, when they learn how much I walk in an average day, usually look impressed, shocked, or a bit of both.

Later I sat in a favourite café on campus with my sketchbook and another iced Americano (it's all decaf today) then walked a couple of miles in the forest.  A gentleman with a dog (a friendly chocolate lab) stopped me to ask directions and chat briefly.  I felt a bit impatient because I didn't want to miss my bus.  I have got into the habit of arriving home from work no later than five-thirty, giving me sufficient time for paperwork, preparing dinner, cleaning up, writing this infernal blog, etc.  Sure enough, I missed not one but two buses and cursed my good nature and good social skills.  The bus that arrived was full and I had to stand, but then some courtesy seats were vacated by young passengers with a conscience and I sat comfortably for most of the ride home.  I am sixty and sometimes taken for older, sometimes younger, but often treated surprisingly well by young people on public transit, which seems a bit odd given that I must have walked twelve miles today and that my legs are probably stronger than theirs.

I am home now and somewhat gobsmacked that I have just discovered in my drawer nearly four hundred dollars worth of Colombian pesos that I must have forgotten to take with me on my vacation.

Not a bad day at all!