Saturday, February 18, 2017

Boring Isn't Boring At All

You're free to disagree: this post may, in fact, bore the pants off you.

It's Family Day weekend in Ontario. They created Family Day a few years back mostly, it seems, to break up the long run between Christmas and Easter.

I have this weekend off. I asked to be scheduled on Monday--time and a half at Walmart is still less than regular time at Sobeys, and the money is welcome--but they didn't oblige me. Which doesn't bother me overmuch: I don't get three days off in a row very often, and even more rarely do I get to share them with Eva.

So we started this morning with a trip to the St. Jacobs Farmer's Market, which is about a four minute drive from home. I tend to question just what a huge tourist attraction this place is -- there are actually two hotels adjacent to serve all the people coming from cities with farmer's markets of their own. But each time I go there, I'm wowed by the scale of the place and the vast selection of delicious foodstuffs, crafts, and such on offer, and I'm forced to recognize anew that yes, a farmer's market can be special, and this one is.
Don't go in hungry. Or then again, maybe you should. I had perogies for breakfast this morning, the kind of fresh made authentic perogies that I have no idea how to recreate at home, so far above the frozen things you get in a grocery store that there really is no comparison. Mark got me a northern Québec tourtière from one vendor that I'm really looking forward to trying (I've never had one). I hope the thing is more authentic than the way it was spelled -- "Northern Quebec tourtierre", missing two accents and with a superfluous 'r', and yes, I notice these things, they irk me to no end.  
I would have liked a little more time to browse around. I love the little kitsch nooks with their humorous plaques (best one seen this morning was "A YAWN IS A SILENT SCREAM FOR COFFEE") and shirts (one I wanted to buy Eva: "Canadian Grown With Dutch Ingredients") and such. But there's one problem with crowded places: they're too damned crowded. We normally get in and out of that place promptly at opening for just that reason, and I slept in until seven this morning (ah, luxury), so that wasn't an option (and apparently I'm in love with parentheses this morning).
It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but it got progressively worse the longer we were there. I expressed the fervent hope that in the wake of the fire there four years ago (I see I was a little more cynical in that blog) that they would make the aisles wider to accommodate the throngs when they rebuilt. They may have, I don't rightly recall. But it's like expressways: add more lanes and you just get more traffic to fill them. Except on expressways you don't have cars randomly stopping in clumps RIGHT IN THE %^^*ING MIDDLE to talk to other cars. Grrr.

Then to Walmart, because I can't seem to stay away from that place. It takes a hell of a sale to lure us elsewhere when we get ten percent off everything, including ad-matched items. Of course, I have to check my department and touch base with the associate in it. I doubt they notice this from me, but I can't seem to help it. No matter where I work, I find myself feeling responsible for things running smoothly even when I'm not there.
I have help now--good help. You get two kinds of employees in retail, seemingly: slackers and go-getters. Walmart, by virtue of it paying a pittance, attracts a higher than usual proportion of the former. I have one of the latter type in my department now, and I'm damned glad to. Since I took over it a month ago, I've been essentially running it on my own, and there's only so much I can do.

Groceries procured, it's time to come home and relax for a bit before more shopping later. Other plans for this weekend include church tomorrow for me. I'm not missing a sermon on "Love and the World's Religions", even if it isn't Rev. Jess giving it. That will probably spawn a blog post. We have our friend Glitch and his son Gidget coming tomorrow evening (tacos, yay).

We have another episode of Cardinal on Netflix to watch. l'm starting to get invested in this one. It's based on a book called FORTY WORDS FOR SORROW, by Canadian (and LAW AND ORDER alumnus) writer Giles Blunt.  The two leads are played to perfection and the series has captured the best element of Blunt's writing: his setting -- a thinly veiled North Bay, Ontario -- is a character in itself.

The Leafs play two games this weekend, so those will be watched as well, as much for the enjoyment of a team FINALLY on the rise as for the filial duty of keeping Ken Breadner Sr. apprised. He's in Florida right now, and despite having two teams and more Canadians than you can shake a toque at in the winter, you can forget about media coverage of hockey games there.

We have our basement to continue work on. There's new carpet down there now, and things are finally accelerating towards us having more living space and less CRAP.

I have two separate poly posts to write, on coming out to yourself and on coming out to others.  And more housework. And enjoying the unseasonably warm temperatures: it's 9 here now, on it's way to at least 13, and fresh air will be admitted into the Breadbin presently.

It's Family Day weeekend, we're a family like any other, and it's going to be nice.

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