Its girthiness is typical of that carrot variety (Kuroda, maybe?), but I’m easily impressed these days. With the latest travel restrictions, my world is limited to eating, sleeping, and playing on the island. But my interest in oversized vegetables started when Zoée shared with me a video featuring her friend’s butternut squash. Zoée did an artful slow pan of the seemingly never-ending squash, which was at least five feet long…. maybe ten? I was already shocked by its length when I realized that I was only halfway through the video. I was inspired to look up vegetable world records.
Years ago, when I was at the climbing gym with a friend, they suggested that I do an overhanging route next. I tried avoiding it using the excuse, “I’m terrible at those.”
“And that is why you should do them,” was their response. Wow, and I thought my excuse was solid!
Completing an overhanging route at a grade below what I’m typically capable of doing doesn’t fuel my ego in the same way. It’s still fun, but it’s a bonus when you get to be good at something you enjoy doing. I’m not the only one who feels this way; otherwise, competitive sports wouldn’t be a thing. Alas, I am too old and injury-prone to add more awards to my box of equestrian ribbons. I also can’t be spending all my free time training as I sometimes need to use my day off to do things such as visit a Canadian Tire store for some diatomaceous earth and jute, which I did last week.
As much as I mostly enjoy living alone, I’m still finding it challenging to spend the whole day without company. So, the Calgary-based Gator accompanied me to the pest control aisle via WhatsApp. I took photos of some of Canadian Tire’s merchandise and sent it to her, such as a tub of diatomaceous earth. Riveting. A few minutes later, I sent her the squeeze bottle version. I also sent her a photo of one of Canadian Tire’s end caps that displayed bandanas, cowboy hats, and koozies.
I may have crossed a line when I referred to them as Calgary Supplies.
Isolation has been my motivator for sending my friends photos of the following things:
I’m back in the bike shop, but only part-time. The other part is spent restocking the store, and a small portion of that is spent in the bike shop–but only to make my tea. I was in tea brewing mode when I noticed a BMX bike parked at the end of the racks and thought, “Interesting, we rarely work on these.”
And we won’t have to because right there and then, a guy entered the shop from the outside carrying a plate of pancakes and a fork in one hand, grabs the bike with his free hand, and walks right out without saying a word.
I glanced over at another mechanic standing at the other end of the room; he also looked at me to acknowledge that he’d seen what I’d just seen. For a few seconds, we processed the situation before we started laughing. (Note: Pancake guy had left his bike in our care so that he could “purchase a bike lock.”) As absurd as the moment was, it was also quintessentially Victoria.
Yesterday, when I mentioned the guy who interrupted my footlong chowing session at Subway with an unwanted strip show, I had to dig through my archives for the post. It took a while, as I’d archived my posts by the month. As I originally lived in Victoria for about four years, I had to sift through about forty months before finally finding the entry, and… it was underwhelming. If you wish to be underwhelmed, I can email it to you.
During my journey through the past, I uncovered some doozies. I spit out my tea when I read, “Has anybody noticed how it’s the bitchy girls who like Winnie the Pooh?”
Past me slays Now me.
The throwback post I’m sharing today isn’t about Winnie the Pooh or bitchy girls, but my transition from having a chaotic roommate to being the chaotic roommate.