27 March, 2011

not dead or anything

since we last talked i have watched packers pack and loaders load, scrubbed every surface of our little abode, been fed and housed by the incomparable r&k and then more of the same by the ever patient b&l, been driven across vast mountain ranges in a broken volvo-beast, fed rather unexpectedly amazing frites* in the middle of mountainous nowhere, gazed with fond affection at the fuzzy cattle on highway 1a west of cochrane, embraced the soothing familiarity of the southern alberta foothills, arrived in edmonton to a gloriously sunny spring day and then was kicked right in the ass by a return of a winter so vicious and unpalatable that it spurred me to a buddhist-like** one-with-the-weather thing, in which i am learning not to kick at that which is unkickable.

we have moved into our transitional housing unit. unlike our former ocean-view home, this one boasts a charming vista of a parking lot, under-lino rot in the bathroom, a fridge whose shelving conspires to dump my liquid dairy products on the floor with punishing regularity, a kitchen cabinet door that fell on my head and a mental institution bathroom wall colour so utterly horrific that i repainted it the following day***. luckily, the place kicks ass in the location department, being mere steps from pretty much everything that counts, like a year-round indoor farmers' market, a repertory movie theatre, cafes, pubs, shops, an organic supermarket where one can purchase very very expensive pears, roughly seventeen new vietnamese restaurants where one can be fed well for very little, a jazz club and half a dozen theatres. also, the rent is cheap and the landlord gave birth to me almost 40 years ago. granted, this can be a blessing or a curse. will keep you posted.

i am now running around and getting us organized while squeezing in as much baby time as i can (yes, my aunternal instincts are in full swing). despite our sadness at leaving one of the most beautiful places on the planet and our amazing friends, old and new, there is a great degree of comfort in coming back to a place i know so well. and so, with all its goods and its bads, i am home.

* they were so good they transcended mere french fries

** one can still aim high while failing spectacularly, no?

*** the colour of choice was a warm pretty grey called for some random reason 'chinchilla white' proving once and for all that chinchilla are indeed colour blind.


Zhoen said...

Home is always a mixed bag. I wish you a speedy settling in.

Lucy said...

Good luck!

Geneviève said...

Miss you! The boy is there now for spring break and we are enjoying adult time (get your mind out of the gutter young lady). See you this summer!