In Which I consume Many Cheezies
This week has been pleasantly bookended by the aforementioned eating. I try not to think about the fact that so much anticipation in my life is built around food.
The first episode of orange gustatory delight occurred Friday last, whilst watching The Big Lebowski (recommended by my co-worker Muffin, who belives it to be the most hilarious movie ever (he's quite wrong*)). The second happened today at the Dickens staff end-of-summer barbeque. Both were very satisfying.
Also, I believe that I may have discovered the two most vibrantly coloured foods that are part of the north american diet: beets and cheezies. Carl would have loved my plate.
*No, I don't know what is. I can never make up my mind about that sort of thing. So sue me. If you're really interested, I might make the effort to come up with my top 5 or something. But it will be privately done through email because I fear the judgement of others.
More sunday thoughts.
I really like my new neighbourhood. I have never lived in a place where so many grocery stores, convenience stores, funky clothing boutiques, restaurants of both the fancy and greasy spoon variety, indie video stores, and purveyors of useless but fascinating junk existed cheek by jowl to my building of residence. And towering over it all with azure superiority from the north, quite a picturesque mountain.
That being said, there are times when I miss southern Ontario with all my being. I never realized how many things had a chance to soak into my consciousness in 20 years of living there. The landscape, the weather, the sounds of animals and wind in the trees, the smells of flowers and soybeans and decomposing muck in the fields, or construction dust and Italian cuisine and decomposing garbage on Spadina. And of course, all the events that I am missing; the pork barbeque at Rouge Valley, Black Creek Gluttony for Jesus, goodbye gettogethers for Bento and Brier and missmachismo and Katie-oh, eating gross glutinous oatmeal pancakes after church at home with my family while arguing vociferously about the merits of a college vs. university education....
I never realized when I was living in Kingston what it is like to be gone. I have collected over the past 6 years a wealth of experience in being the one who is left, and that was hard too. But there is a whole world of other things to miss when you are the gone one.
This entry makes me sound like I'm super depressed, and I'm not, really. Just pondering stuff. Hey, did anyone else listen to Choral Concert this morning?
