Meteorological discussion

Yesterday morning, an unseasonably rainy day in February:

Me: D-, look, it's raining!
D-: Yay. It's spring. It's spring!
Me: Well, it might not be spring yet. Winter might come back.
D-: Mummy, winter, spring, summer, fall.
Me: Well, yes but maybe winter isn't ready to go yet.
D- (starting to get irritated): Mummy, it's raining, it's spring.
Me: I'm just saying-
D-: Mummy, it's not winter, spring, winter! It's (starting to sing) winter, spring, summer, fall!
Me: Right.
D-: Yay. Spring. Spring. Spring.

Last night it snowed. Today it is minus nine. Never argue with a three and half year old about the weather.

In other news, I finished another painting and am feeling quite pleased with it.

Save some fur me

So.

I stayed up really late last night reading Bet Me (Jennifer Crusie, 2004) a romance novel that was chosen by my book club in honour of Valentine's day. I had been quite scandalized to be reading such a low-brow novel, and was quite furtive when ordering it from my local library (the librarian even seemed a little surprised when I came to pick it up, "celui-ci??" she asked holding up the blue hardcover with an image of plastic mule sandals and cherries. "Oui, oui, c'est pour moi," I answered hoping no one else noticed). All this to say that once I picked it up I could not put it down and that meant that my long list of Saturday errands had to be squeezed into a much smaller window of time.

It is always when I am in a hurry that everyone else around me s-l-o-w-s d-o-w-n-- . After trying on several pairs of black pants at Friperie Renaissance (yes, that counts as an important errand. My work colleagues are starting to rebel at seeing me in jeans day after day), I found a reasonable pair and with half an hour to spare, I went to stand in line. There was a sale on fur stoles that was inspiring the most frenzied excitement among my fellow shoppers. An elderly Asian gentleman encouraged me to get them while I could and at one checkout, a woman had a shopping cart full of black fur and was arguing with the teller. I imagine she was planning to make fur coats for all of her immediate family. I chose the other queue, where a new employee struggled with the cash register. He then started a long discussion with a buxom woman who was either returning a coat or wanting a discount. Next was an Indian woman who was buying two kids' books (what no fur stole?). Right, this should be quick, I thought, looking up at the clock. Then she paid with a fifty dollar bill and this started another long-ish moment with Newbie cashier finding his supervisor, his supervisor verifying the bill's authenticity, then Newbie slowly calculating the change for the purchase that could not have been more than 75 cents. I checked the other line. Fur Lady was leaning over the counter and pointing her finger. The man behind her in the queue was starting to sweat. I returned my attention to my queue, now two elderly ladies with small purchases (fur stoles, books, a picture frame). Right, moving right along. Newbie stapled the elderly ladies' receipts together and offered them a bag. I looked at the clock, time was slipping on and on. The woman in front of me, we'll call her Bleach-hair, moved up to the cashier (3 fur stoles, flimsy white skirt), then proceeded to pay for her purchase in nickels, pennies and quarters (the quarters were in a plastic bank roll which she struggled for what seemed like an eternity to open). I leaned on the counter, drummed my fingers, grinned madly to myself as I looked again at the clock. I was definitely late now. Then my turn. I thought, right, we'll show these people how to make a speedy purchase. But then I realized I had no cash and had to use my bank card which became inextricably stuck in my wallet. Much wallet wrestling ensued and the woman behind me (fur stoles, t-shirt) sighed.


That is what I get for reading romance novels!