It’s been a day. Just a day. Not an especially good day, not an especially bad one, not a productive day, but I wasn’t a complete sloth either, no big breakthroughs, no progress, no extra baby steps taken or bites chewed off my metaphorical elephant, but no gloomy moods either, no feeling like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I wasn’t especially adventurous, but was still intellectually curious. The only reason I’m writing about this day, is because if I don’t make some sort of effort to remember it, it’ll surely vanish into a hazy blur of countless unmemorable days, and that’s just a shame. Because I find there is poetry in the ordinary. Ordinary is actually kind of exotic to me (but much less exciting obviously). So I guess one could say that as far as learning to appreciate the ordinary, the ho-hum, and the un-extraordinary I’m doing really well. And now that I’ve written that last sentence I’d better not dwell on the implications of what I’ve just said too much because I’ll surely end up wanting to shoot myself (but that’s never been an option as far as exit strategies go for me, so no worries).
What did this day look like? Dim, it looked… dingy, even. It started out with just barely enough light, but not quite, as I was waking up the intermittent sweet sounds of a roaring chainsaw were going on endlessly. How I managed to sleep through that for more than one minute, I don’t know. I’m a very resolute sleeper I guess. That blasted thing sounded like it was about to break into my bedroom, and then when I looked out the window, I saw they were in fact just outside my window and in the process of doing a horrible number on my tree, like a real horror show. My beloved tree, which stands in my neighbour’s yard and which up until recently, provided me with a beautiful lush canopy of green leaves which had the merit not only of giving me privacy, but also of bringing me straight to the edge of the ocean – the rustling leaves sounding exactly like waves dissolving onto the shore. So I guess you could say I spent the morning mourning the tree. In truth, it’s a very old tree, and a huge one (maybe 6-8 stories high where my building has only 3) and I could tell it hadn’t been doing well — the leaves just hadn’t fully come out as they should have this spring, and it had occurred to me that if it were to say… snap, in a violent storm for example, there were fairly good odds that the tree might have toppled onto my roof and shattered through my windows, killing both Fritz and I in the process, which really would have been a great tragedy — one which might easily been avoided had they cut down the tree to begin with. Sigh. I could tell the workmen didn’t give a damn one way or the other. For them, it was just another annoying tree to get out of the way. Sad.
I wanted to go outside, I’d promised myself I’d go outside today, I even had a little pile of things to bring along since I had errands to run — I was going to cash a cheque from the federal govt. for a tax refund, which yay! only not, because the provincial govt. is claiming three times as much with interest of course. Did you know that Canadian taxes were supposed to be collected only as a temporary measure to help through the war (I’m not sure which — The Great War or WWII obviously) and then they simply continued collecting without asking or telling anyone? Which means they’ve been robbing us all those years, the bastards. In any case, after taking care of that, I wanted to drop by a gourmet shop at the market to get a new bottle of cold pressed extra virgin olive oil, since they have quite an amazing selection, though I’m sure I’d end up getting a couple of other things since they happen to have an amazing selection of everything gourmet you can imagine. After that I had considered continuing just a little bit further and taking a walk along Lachine Canal, which is where I started to get confused in my planning because then does it mean I should bring the camera or not? And should I get my groceries on the way back instead so that I’m not juggling with my olive oil as I’m trying to take a shot?
But none of that mattered in the end since I felt a little bit sickly today and it was freezing outside (and in the apartment as well) and there were intermittent bursts of rainfall which looked more like sheets of rain. In short, the weather was particularly uninviting, and although I’ve been dying to put on my Wellingtons and go muck about in puddles, it just wasn’t that kind of day. It was more the kind of day where, walking along Lachine Canal, the winds would have torn the hood off my head (I’d have known better than to take an umbrella), and then my hair would have wildly flapped about till it got cold, wet and stingy, the better to whip furiously at my face and eventually end up plastered onto forehead, eyelids, cheek, nose and mouth in a most disgraceful arrangement, looking like a hairdresser’s nightmare.
I decided an indoor escape was in order and spent hours upon hours poring trough book lists and suggestions and then reading about books that I’d like to read someday. I even actually read a book. I only point that out because it never escapes me as I’m considering all these possibilities of future reads that I could actually be reading instead. How I’ll ever get through my wish list, I don’t know, but that’s not really the point and it’s not something I intend to spend much time worrying about. I’ve got plenty of other worrying to do.
* A mouse: that’s why elephants are so scared of them.
How does a mouse eat an elephant?
One bite at a time.
Doesn’t take take a long time?
Yes, very, but the elephant doesn’t mind as long as
there are lots of good books to read.
I knew elephants were smart, but they can read too?
No, but neither can George W. Bush.
Photo of polo playing elephant in the rain
courtesy of Tom Claytor
These pictures here? That’s a bit of silliness I toyed with. imagechef.com lets you to pick from a selection of photos and customize the text — Their image selection is… limited, but it’s perfect stuff for a rainy day.