The days and weeks since my last post seem like a bit of a blur to me now. The day after my birthday, I left home to go camping with my daughter and her family in Ucluelet, and while I was there I received a message that my brother-in-law (in Ontario) was near the end of his brief and intense battle with cancer. Sure enough, he passed away the following day as I was making my way back to Nanaimo from the west coast of the island.
The next few days became a flurry of travel arrangements and packing. I arrived at the Victoria airport only to find out my direct flight had been cancelled 20 minutes after I left the house. So yet more arrangements had to be made to ensure I made it back to Ontario in time to pay my last respects at the celebration of life that was planned. I flew out of Nanaimo the next day, with a stop to change planes in Calgary.
Sunrise. Leaving Vancouver Island on the first leg of the journey back to Ontario.
I did make it and in time, and with my luggage (whew!). I also tried to fit in as many visits with people as I could, since I was “in town”, anyways…in fact I had to extend my stay for a few extra days when I realized I would never be able to fit everyone in, otherwise. I consider myself so fortunate to have all of these good friends who made time for me, on such short notice. I was thrilled to be able to spend time with my son and his girlfriend (and my grand-doggy!), and on his birthday too!
I did not take pictures of any of these meetups (deliberately) as I wanted to just be in the moment with my friends and family. However, on the rare free evening I did get out on walks with my gracious and lovely hosts and I had my phone camera at the ready, then.
Speed River Sunset
I managed to get in an early morning solo walk too…on the trail I have been using for at least 55 years.
Beginning of trailThe new bridge had been installed. Read about the time I risked life and limb to walk on the old bridge 😉 , here.What was gained in safety and accessibility was gained at the expense of the charm and beauty of the wooden bridge.I feel like I am looking through the bars of a playpen…or a jail cell.This is my “how do I feel about this new bridge” face.Beautiful views soon distracted me from thoughts of the new bridge.
I made sure to say hello to all of my favourite trees.
I’ve still got my eye on you!Kinda reminds me of The Scream
On my way back from my soul-restoring walk, enroute to my host’s abode I saw this vanity plate on a car.
I hope the owner is in on the irony.Special shout out to this lady (and her hubs): my wonderful host and long-time friend (with her long-time pal – 30 years old and still wearing out much younger horses on their rides!)
After a jam-packed 9 days of seeing friends and family I was back on a plane heading west, exhausted but content.
Flying above the smoke from the wildfires during sunset, on the Calgary to Nanaimo leg of my journey.
Besides catching up with people, I learned a lot about myself on this trip back to the place I have called home for the previous 60 years of my life. Other than the people I left behind, I no longer have any attachments to my old stomping grounds. I even visited my old building (and the good friends who now occupy my former home there) and I felt…uh, nothing…nothing but curiosity and joy at seeing the changes/improvements being wrought. It’s like I never lived there…and yes, the me who I am today – in my new Island home – never did live there. Am I making sense?
They say you can’t go home again. And they are right…not because home has changed, but because YOU have.
September started out still blazing hot but now the weather is reasonable again, and perfect for heading to the woods.
Head to the woods I did, with a local group that took me to a brand new area, right off the trail I usually walk. I’d known of this side trail for years of course, but because it looked overgrown and in denser brush I was leery of going too far in by myself. When the group advertised a guided walk into this area I jumped at the opportunity.
We followed Chilligo Creek for most of the walk.
Heading to a crossing point at the creek.
One of our group refers to this oak as “The Mother Tree” 🙂
The forest floor is full of fungus-y finds like this one.
Fall is the time when the wild asters are the most beautiful.
Another purple fall flower. According to iNaturalist, it is a knapweed.
Beautiful bright red foliage of the Virginia Creeper spotted in the meadow.
View of Chilligo Creek as it come out from under the highway. Taken from the side of the road, above.
My pants were covered in “travellers” at the hike’s end. Another sign of the fall!
Heading back from the walk, I took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the plantings downtown. They are putting on a show as well, as we cruise into fall. Hydrangeas are changing from white to pink and bronze.
A few steps further, I took in the riot of chrysanthemums planted to celebrate fall in our downtown.
Home again. Sipping wine and picking seeds outta my pants…a perfect end to a perfect walk in the woods.
Sublime. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have wild areas close at hand, with which to restore my soul.
This has been a Changing Seasons Post. The Changing Seasons is a monthly photo challenge, hosted by Su Leslie of Zimmerbitch.
I have been meditating every day and practicing doing things mindfully, and dumb shit still does bother me. At least it takes up more of my mental energy than I feel it deserves.
There was a post that popped up on my Facebook feed (isn’t that the way these things always start?), and I’ve was thinking about it off and on for most of yesterday. The person posted in one of the Village’s community groups that he was upset because he ordered pizza delivered but didn’t tip the delivery guy, and the delivery guy got sarcastic with him, thanking him for the (no) tip. No mention was made of poor service. Mr. No Tip chose not to tip for his own reasons.
So Mr. No Tip felt he had to justify his actions (poor, single dad with no car) and complain that he doesn’t get tipped for his work, and seek assurance from the Facebook community that he was right, goddammit, and the delivery guy was wrong and let’s all talk about it and get worked up and hopefully delivery guy gets fired and the named pizza business takes a hit for employing someone so rude.
Well, this wasn’t explicitly said, but why else wouldn’t you just shake it off and move on with your life?
I think I know. Because Mr. No Tip just might have felt like a bit of shitheel for no tipping, and then he gets called on it, so now he feels even worse and therefore has to take measures to feel good about himself again, online. I’m no therapist (thank goddess, eh?) but I’m just supposin’.
Anyways, I read the comments (I know, I know…sigh) and people were commenting on how a tip is not a given and yeah, they had problems too with said business and drivers…but what about poor servers, yada yada. The general consensus was that the driver never should have said what he did. And I agree.
Perhaps “war” was too strong a term in this instance. But still entertaining AF.
But the driver didn’t complain on the community forum about that douche that stiffed him for a tip or call him out by his name*, so I focused on Mr. No Tip’s behaviour instead.
And this got me thinking all kinds of thoughts. I tried to not think about Mr. No Tip himself, whom I’ve met IRL and who has not impressed me with other whiny shit things he has posted. I tried instead to put myself in his shoes as I thought through what was posted.
Which was easy, because I have been in his brokeass shoes. And when we couldn’t afford to tip someone for service, guess what? We didn’t eat out. We didn’t order in. We made do with what was in the kitchen cupboard.
Money was always tight growing up. When we went out for the day as a family, Mom made sandwiches and the Coleman stove was packed so we could have soup and tea to go with our meal. Because there was no extra money for restaurant food, not even at a cheap diner. We picnicked at a roadside rest area instead.
Once a year, my parents treated themselves (and later, us kids too) to a meal out for their anniversary. They saved up the money (including tip) to go out for a real treat – Chinese food. They didn’t say: We are supporting 5 people on 1 immigrant working man’s salary and we can barely make ends meet and this is our only meal out for the next 12 months, so we are entitled to not tip.
They tipped, because that is what you do in our society when you receive good service at restaurants and the like. You don’t make your brokeass life the server’s problem. If you can’t afford the tip, stay home. If you can’t afford the tip, don’t order delivery.
That doesn’t mean you have to tip – but if the service is decent, you should tip and you should factor that into the cost of your meal before you go out or order in. That’s how I was raised.
In my younger days as a married adult, money was tight as well. I was still in university. I remember one of our first meals out as newlyweds – could’ve been an anniversary, I can’t remember – we thought we had enough cash with us to cover our meal and the tip but when the check arrived we found we had miscalculated. Oh shit. We were young and unprepared – no credit cards; debit cards were not a thing yet, nor ATMs; banks were closed; and I had left the chequebook at home. So we had to slink out of the restaurant without leaving a tip for our nice server. I left a note explaining that there was nothing wrong with the service; we were dumbasses who couldn’t add. I felt like a total shitheel that night. I never let that happen again.
I went back on Facebook later in the day and saw a post that said the original post (and comments) had been removed and Mr. No Tip has been removed from the group as well, by the group’s administrators (yet again). He was removed about a year ago too, for making an somewhat similar ranty post, with racial overtones that offended a lot of readers including yours truly. Then he popped up again a few months later, having rearranged his name on his Facebook account.
So, what does any of this have to do with mindfulness, you might be asking by now?
Like the cool cat at the top of the post, I was hoping that being more mindful would mean this kind of thing wouldn’t occupy so much of my brain on a November Sunday. But that is not what mindfulness is about actually. It is about taking a pause before automatically reacting. And in that pause, (hopefully) seeing and acting with more clarity. With mindfulness.
I paused yesterday. I did not fire off a comment (snarky or otherwise) to enter the fray. Which is something I might have done earlier. I did take a pause to not react, and instead to clarify my own thinking. And I recalled some nice (and some humbling) memories as I did so. And then I wrote it all down on Ye Olde Blogge, because…NaBloPoMo…hehehe.
Good to remember when my fingers get twitchy on Facebook.
Rock on,
The WB
*Mr. No Tip didn’t either (I doubt he knew his name), but he did name the business involved which I think ultimately led to his post being deleted.
Kapsalon: Late-night takeout and hangover food supreme!
I saw a post this week on Facebook (where I get almost all my news and entertainment, these days) describing some popular Dutch food items. One of them was the glorious kapsalon, that Mizz J and I discovered on our last trip to the Netherlands.
Kapsalon covers all the best necessary food groups with its delightful mix of fries, cheese, garlic sauce, sambal, shawarma meat, and veggies. Hehehehe.
After experiencing this takeout food of the hedonistic gods, we were all fired up to bring this to Canada, the land where La Belle Province introduced the world to the wonder that is poutine.
But since we are not restauranteurs, the learning curve was very steep indeed and we soon lost interest abandoned our mission to bring this delight to the New World.
Until this week! There is a restaurant in the Village that would be perfect (IMHO) to introduce this tinfoil tub of deliciousness to North America. They already sell shawarma AND fries! So I contacted them (via Facebook, natch) this morning.
Outside my home office window, the Christmas lights are looking fine! Pardon the blurriness – taken through the window. I took shots outside (in my nightie, brrrr) but I liked this one the best.
Monday afternoon and evening was filled with excitement here in the Village. Not the good kind either. An abandoned foundry had caught fire. I could see the smoke from the window of my office, in the City – a 20 minute drive away. A thoughtful friend called me to let me know what was happening, and that my area of town was not affected.
Once I got home I took some pictures, from a very safe distance – from across the river on my side of town:
As seen from Ellacott Landing
All is calm on the Mill Pond, except I spooked the ducks with my presence.
The fire continued through the night and, if I can believe Facebook, started up again the next day. People are very upset and worrying about chemicals in the air. Air quality tests were taken and people were assured they were safe. Now the conspiracy theories abound. Facebook can be very entertaining.
