I say to whomever it’s pertinent that I am semi-retired, but that is a lie.
I hope I’m done working for other people.
This month, I moved to a new, small town. All alone. I moved from my own house in a big city to a rented apartment in a high rise. A week and a day ago, my dog and cat joined me. This morning marks the first day that there has been no dog poop or pee, and no cat barf, on what turns out to be an excellent choice in odour and stain resistant wall-to-wall carpeting by building management. [SHAMELESS PLUG: ReSolve(tm) Powder, Carpet Spray, and Pre-laundry Stain Removal Spray are WONDERFUL. All you need is a voluminous ruffle of paper towelling to pick up guck. Apply powder to what’s left, and any accompanying puddles. Wait a day to let dry. Vacuum. Apply spray liberally. Wait a minute. Rub gently with wet cloth. Listen to your relieved heart SOAR!]
On my 55th birthday, I bought my first car. I call her The L’il Snow Queen. My Monarch Park Dog Pack Pals in Toronto bought me fuzzy dice to hang from the rear view mirror from Canadian Tire, so I feel obliged to use “L’il” – it’s as silly and fun as the dice, and makes me laugh. I love my car.
Here’s my view:
From my table, I see trees that will be bare soon, and allow peeps of the Seaway river park path. I see one of Sarnia’s many churches, the marina, ships moored at the wharf silos, and the Port Huron, Michigan portion of the Bluewater Bridge. I can watch tiny transport trucks coming to Canada all day and night.
It’s the sky here that has me mesmerized, though. Things have a way of floating past or flying away here. Ships’ lights glide along in the dark on the river before dawn. Crows cavort around the church steeple. Hawks abound. At the leash-free dog park on the edge of town, gaggles of geese on the adjacent pond up and form tangles of Vs that separate and exert themselves southwards in diminishing wisps of gronking. And the wide expanse of blue over Lake Huron and the St. Clair river tumbles beautiful clouds at us like a magician revealing astounding surprises. Of course these things exist in Toronto, and elsewhere. But it’s the expanse of the vista and the weight of the vast sky that makes you aware of the beauty of the place.
My friend Joyce told me to rent the best place I could for my thriftily apportioned funds, and I pass that invaluable tip on to you. Her point was to help myself make an easier transition to a new life in a place that made me the happiest. I would have been okay in an apartment building a little less expensive and further from the water, but despite the initial difficulties for Espresso and Gordie, this view brings me utter joy.
I sold my little house and I moved to a new place for joy.
Look at that amazing bridge.