At My Front Door

There is always a story

in every day 

routine and nondescript. 

Like the fellow 

who delivers my groceries ~

always a big smile, 

   a happy voice and

     a cheerful aura. 

Black hair wild and wiry.

His bulk carries my groceries

and his cheerfulness easily

~ this is a story at my door.

“We’re all stories, in the end.”

~ Steven Moffatt, 

Scottish TV writer and producer

Priorities

Temptation to change the world 

is merely a wisp of a dream,

too great a task, 

and too messy. 

I walked to day, 

just to the grocery store 

for my prescription refill 

and bananas. 

I added a Bosc pear because 

they taste good. Curious, 

I took my blood pressure - 

the machine showed ‘optimal’.   

Then I spoke to a cheerful pharmacy tech 

about the state of the weather outside. 

Paying my bill, I packed my groceries

and my medication into my bag, 

zipped up my jacket and headed home. 

I looked up to check the clouds ~ 

rain this afternoon or possibly this evening? ~ 

Three blocks to walk, I skirted all the puddles,

rain stayed in the clouds. Home safe and dry. 

Temptation to change the world 

is merely a wisp of a dream,

too great a task, 

and too messy.

“Action expresses priorities.”

~ Mahatma Gandhi

Just Chatting

Overtures toward the woman 

in line at the grocery store 

are to commiserate about 

the length of the line up, 

or the weather 

or a shallow bit of cliché 

to pass the time and feel at ease 

even though 

the man behind grumbles 

about the lack of staff 

or about the infernal machines 

at the self check out. 

In all of this, a thought 

drifts through my mind: 

‘I’m glad we chatted and 

that we’ll have food to take home 

to feed our families.’

 

It’s my turn at the till. 

I set my tomatoes, milk and eggs 

on the conveyor belt, 

pay for my groceries, 

say my good byes to people 

I’ll never see again and return home. 

“Two things define you: your patience when you have nothing 

and your attitude when you have everything,”

~ George Bernard Shaw

On an Afternoon Walk - Down the Street

Stepping out,

grocery bag on my shoulder, 

journal tucked inside

I wandered past the grocery store and went three blocks too far.

Errands are those must do things with opportunities to look around

so down the street I followed my feet to 13th Ave Coffee Shop for my lunch, coffee and a write.

Then it was time to move on home

past hair salons, an ice cream and candy store, a flower shop, fish store, butcher shop, a pub, chocolate shop, and so much more ~ oh yes, and a grocery store ~ errand was complete.

“We often miss opportunity because 

it’s dressed in overalls and looks like work.”

~ Thomas A. Edison

 

A Forty Pound Oops!

I was shocked!

They just sat, stolidly leaning up against the porch railings. Two twenty pound bags of potatoes ~ that I hadn’t ordered. I had only wanted two single potatoes.

Where were the rest of my groceries!? There was no obvious delivery person in sight. I didn’t know what to do. I had seen him come up to my front door, but by the time I got my mask on and opened the door, he was nowhere to be seen.

Trying to decide what to do, I breathed easier when he suddenly appeared carrying two more bags of groceries. Fortunately, he was a very nice young man. He did explain what was obviously my error. So rather than eating all things potatoes for the next month ~ breakfast, lunch and supper ~ I sent them back to the store for return or donation.

My error? I didn’t read the website closely enough!

“Mistakes aren’t mistakes; they are lessons!”

~ Israelmore Ayivor, Six Words Inspiration

Stark and Cold

A bony, icy finger

slid into the crevice

between

fleece hood, wooly scarf,

thick turtled sweater to

thinly ice my neck.

Pulling my hood tight

against the wind

adjusting my backpack

I let the wind push me

forward as

took my groceries home.

“That’s what winter is: an exercise in remembering how

 to still yourself then how to come pliantly back to life again.”

~ Ali Smith,  Winter

Just Chillin'!

Some would call me crazy. Walking to the grocery store and pharmacy when it was somewhere below -20 Centigrade, with a wind. I was even questioning my sanity, but the pharmacy was a must and of course while there, a couple of grocery items and some Christmas shopping. All finished I re-bundled myself, adjusted my back pack and stepped outside. Normal parking lot. Cars, pickups, a taxi or two, customers to-ing and fro-ing with shopping cars across the snowy, icy asphalt. And a rhythmic thump. Was I hearing things? I really could hear it. He wouldn’t. Would he? I took a few more steps. Guitar and a song. The kind of song you hear in the summer time when the sun is hot and the wind is merely a breeze. (I would love to tell you what song it was ~ a very familiar one ~ but the wind has blown it away from my mind.)

This young man, I first heard in the summer time. Since then in the mall where I shop and in all kinds of weather. Sheltered from the rain and winds, protected from the heat of the sun with a steady stream of very appreciative listeners. But there he was, in freezing cold and in his usual spot, playing his guitar, guitar case open on the side walk to receive donations. All bundled up, still singing and always with a smile. 

“Winter forms our character and brings out our best.”

~ Tom Allen

Garden Dreams

My 2016 garden in Victoria

I miss my gardens

From my big backyard garden in Texas to my small container gardens in Victoria ~

merely seasonal supplements to sterile bright grocery store produce

but rooted, grounded in rich soil that gets under my fingernails,

swiped across my forehead

in the perspiring heat of summer ~

fresh vegetables that seldom

make it all the way to the table.

I miss my gardens!

“The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. 

To nurture a garden is to feed not just the body but the soul.” 

~ Alfred Austin

It is Fitting

Solitude midst the pandemic 

with restricted movements,

fear of infection kept at bay 

from a distance ~

from unknown crowds ~

even one or two ~

still taking risks  

in the grocery store

in a taxi

on the bus

walking in the park

when I am so uncertain 

but still I keep writing 

feeling the space 

trying to find the right fit 

in my own home ~ just me ~

no longer skirting the fray and fringes of life 

~ tired of the skirting ~ 

lost in it’s folds, 

blinded by the draperies I’ve hidden behind

always wanting more 

not knowing what ‘more’ is 

until here I am fitting, sitting, writing

at my kitchen table knowing life is abundant.

My cup overflows and I am grateful. 

Not for the pandemic that kills ~

but for the space it has foisted upon me 

“Make the most of yourself….for that is all there is of you.”

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter One, Episode Thirteen - Spent - Situationally Theirs

May 18, 2020

Today’s Review, Edit and Update: First, the house wrens - the nest is quiet now. No more activity inside. All the flutterings have moved outside. Now and then I see a tiny bird almost peer over the edge of the nest but otherwise, the fledging have flown.

    Besides the typos, always a surprise to me, I fixed a couple of places where auto correct wasn’t picked up by this writer prior to the initial post. Another error was the colour of the masks that Martha made for the two ladies. In previous posts, it has been obvious that Emmie’s favourite colour is blue, based on her clothing colour choices. This was not reflected in the original version of this post: “Martha knew her favourite colour was red.” So I’ve fixed that issue. 

April 06, 2020

Update about the House Wrens:  The nest outside my office window, so well-disguised from any position but my office chair, is constantly busy inside. I do believe there are very active babies in there. Mom and Dad are flying back and forth constantly. When one of the parents goes down into the nest, there is lots of movement. Haven’t seen any babies yet, just lots of movement that does tax the flexibility and ingenuity of the nest. Now on to tonight’s post of Dez and Emmie in Episode Thirteen of Situationally Theirs: Spent

Spent

Rest, once a luxury for these two single women confined by pandemic mitigating policies, seemed all that they did anymore. Until today. Today they had been busy. Busy, relative to the past couple of weeks. Today had been 'pick up and delivery day', with an added bonus. Yesterday, when they contacted Digby, Emmie’s butler, he had spoken of the most recent and conflicting news reports about Covid19 issues. His main concern was about the non-surgical masks that he heard Dr. Tam speaking of, and had seen many passersby wearing. Did Mrs. Beaufort think that he should be wearing one? Mrs. Beaufort ~ Emelina ~ didn’t know at the time. Today, she was still conflicted, but interested, despite not even owning such an item. Desperanza just remained in the background, but quietly shook her head. 

When they spoke with Martha, the Housekeeper, she hadn’t had the television news on. “I just don’t need to hear all the information and questions over and over again, I can’t concentrate on my sewing.”

She was still sewing costumes for her grandchildren’s school play. “They were so disappointed! Looking forward to that play and wearing their costumes. I had to finish them so they could wear them and maybe at least act out their parts!”

Martha asked about Digby and was so glad to hear that he was doing well. “Does he have enough to eat and is he eating?” Emmie assured Martha that he was, and that they would be picking up more groceries for him. 

“I suppose he’s watching every news report. Definitely all the medical updates. That man will drive himself crazy with all his chasing after every single little detail.”

Emelina had an idea. “Martha there is one thing you could do for him. He seemed very interested in the suggestion that wearing a non-medical mask when going for a walk may be a help. So a mask is on his shopping list. I was wondering, do you think you could make him some kind of mask. You know what he likes and there’s lots of instructions online - but if you don’t have any fabric…….”

“Oh nonsense, I’ve got more fabric here than I know what to do with. Stacks of it. Some people have an obsession about books, about tools or about lots of other things. My obsession is fabric. I will definitely make him some masks and when you deliver my groceries tomorrow, I’ll have them on the front step. So come with my groceries first, then you can take his groceries with the masks. And you tell him that if he needs more, to just shoot me an email ~ that’s what my daughter says. ‘just shoot me an email, mom’” Martha’s laughter rippled through the airwaves.

And so it was that Emmie and Dez had a busy day. Up early, they ate a good breakfast and took their coffee with them in travel mugs. They split up the lists. Emmie did groceries and Dez went to the drug store. They didn’t wear any masks, but did wear gloves, both feeling a bit awkward wearing gloves in the stores, but felt it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Emmie and Dez finished their rounds, clomping into the mud room like a couple of teenagers home from a party. It had felt like a party being out and about, hearing people talking and laughing. Most conversations were about ordinary things,……the car needs gas, the kids don’t want to do their homework, the dog picked up ticks at the park. Sprinkled through it all were the details and fear about this virus and the fallout from all the changes. Never the less, it still felt like a party and the sun had been shining all day. Once they had both hung up their coats and jackets, they stepped into the kitchen, washed their hands carefully and began unpacking their own groceries. Carefully. Transferring them from their ‘outside bag’ into their ‘inside bag’. Putting the ‘outside bag’ into the laundry, they stepped into the kitchen to put away the few groceries they had purchased. Supper was one of Cook’s specialties ~ Bavarian sausages and pirogies smothered in mushrooms and onions. Right out of the freezer into the microwave. 

“You know, a busy day for me used to be non-stop running and fetching for the boss."

“And for me, it was meeting and after meeting after meeting. These last couple of weeks have really been a bit of a blessing. All that rest that used to be a luxury? I’ll never take that for granted again. Did you see those masks that Martha made for Digby? All kinds of crazy patterns. I hope he wears them. He's not a man for crazy patterns on anything. She even put a couple in with our names on the packages. She is such a good person.” Emmie handed Dez her package with a scarlet mask in it. Emmie’s was blue. Martha knew her favourite colour was blue, but only guessed at a colour Dez would like.

“I’m glad we could have helped them out today. But boy am I ever tired! Isn’t that weird? Guess we’d better step up our walking every day. I’m not, and never will be a jogger, but walking I could do all day. You need to show me the field behind this big old mansion. There must be some real work to be done out there.”

Emelina yawned and picked up the book that had been her morning read. She had brought it in from the patio when they brought in the groceries. “Let’s talk about that in the morning, Dez. I’m going to bed to read. That is, if I can keep my eyes open. Good night.”

“I am somewhat exhausted; I wonder how a battery feels 

when it pours electricity into a non-conductor?

~ Arthur Conan Doyle,  The Adventure of the Dying Detective