“Do you and your family have enough food?”  The question caught me by surprise as a friend and I said our “goodbyes” over the telephone.  The mandates holding us back as we battled COVID were lifted a few days prior and we felt a bit more relaxed about buying, and stocking up, our shelves.  And then announcements were made in USA and Canada - expect food shortages to be next.  Things would likely get worse before they got better.

I think winter might officially be behind us.  My assumption is definitely NOT based on the weather, since as I write this we are forecast to receive the brunt of a “spring” storm that is supposed to bring another five to ten cm of snow to our area… if it were truly the “spring” weather I imagine in my head, that snow would be rain.  And, selfishly, I hope we don’t get the snow that’s predicted.  My joints are protesting the weather we are currently “enjoying” and I wonder about how the animals that have arrived already are fairing in this humidity filled cold.  Although, to be fair, it isn’t likely a Canadian Goose with wing joints enflamed with arthritis would be flying back home for a season of procreating and dodging bullets in the fall, would it?  No doubt said goose would have settled into a permanent residency in Florida or Hawaii, having hitched a ride in the luggage compartment of some airline that is becoming reacquainted with establishing tourist flights again.  Fortunate bird.  For myself, I’ve been hobbling along with a cane, requiring support as my knee has grown to twice it’s size and I’m struggling to keep my mind on the silver lining of the challenges that come with arthritis, namely the warm and dry weather that follows. And also, thanks to the cloud formations declaring warmer weather IS coming, soon the snow will be gone and with it, the humidity affecting joints too.  Until it rains and is chilly out too.  But there’s no need for me to reflect too deeply on that - one challenge at a time!

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about how we really don’t know people. When we first were mandated to wear face masks a couple of years ago, I had trouble recognizing people as they wore their masks.  And as we transition back to meeting together and being able to remove those masks, I find I’m still having trouble recognizing people.  I wait to hear their voice, observe their mannerisms or refer to topics familiar just to us.  It’s an awkward feeling for me.  And I feel a bit stupid for feeling lost amongst people I should know.  It makes me think of a television show I watched one night in a hotel room when I had to be away from home on a medical trip.  The boss of the company wore a “disguise” which usually consisted of facial hair, a comb over or wig and a fake paunch or belly to make the transition complete.  The men were dressed equally as bad (ha, ha!) and then the boss would proceed to work with one of the employees to find out more about them after they witnessed their work ethic and loyalty to the company.  Once the boss had spent time with a few people, the employees were called into head quarters where they met the boss outside of the disguise.  The boss then rewarded them for their loyalty … things like furthering their education to qualify for job promotions, setting up college bursaries for the employees children, giving them a trip, improving their house, buying them a reliable vehicle and so on.  The whole time I watched the program I felt like it was too simple - the disguise wasn’t elaborate enough and I questioned how the employee couldn’t know that was their boss.  I felt the producers of the show must think viewers were very gullible to believe those moments weren’t scripted… I imagine it went down like this:  when the employee expressed their suspicion that it’s their boss the producers would whisper dramatically off camera, “if you think it’s your boss, play along and let’s see where we go from here.  None of us know what’s going to happen and it makes for great television!” 

Darling.  Sweetheart.  Honeybun.  I didn’t grow up hearing terms of endearment.  And the people in my immediate ‘village’ raising me didn’t use “pet” names for one another.  My Dad would call my mother “Viv’s” or “Reid” in reference to her middle and pre-marital last name.  Everyone did, and still does, refer to her as Loney rather than by her given name.  But it was only my paternal Uncle who ever got away with calling her “Looney-tunes.”  I’d love to know the story behind that moniker but I highly doubt I ever will.  My point is, using pet names or words of endearment rather than my given or nick name has never been part of my culture.  It’s isn’t customary to refer to someone with a term of endearment.  For some people it can be down right embarrassing and can leave one feeling a bit flustered and out of sorts.

Do you remember when you were young and you looked forward to a break in routine so much?  You could barely contain your anticipation and each day was “one less sleep” until “IT” happened.  The closer the event came to taking place, the more difficult it was to sleep.  And finally, out of frustration, our parents threatened if we didn’t behave/sleep/eat my vegetables/practice obedience/ do my homework the “event of a lifetime” would be taken off the table…  I would not be attending said event AND everyone else in the family would go but I would be at home. Exiled. And alone.  Fortunate not to have been locked in the basement until my family’s return.  Is THAT what I wanted.  My meek mild little head bobbled negatively on my nonexistent neck “No, that is not what I want.”