Observables #24

on reminiscing, family time, and my commitment to the Bay!

My cool Christmas jeans that I found at the Bay, because the Bay still holds memories for me of shopping with my grandmother who was a manager there for 25 years. It’s the place I return to now when my mother gives me Christmas money and I’m on the look out for something fancy!—bringing back all the feelings of walking arm and arm with my petite grandma scouring the women’s floor. And how every year I would think this might be our last year until it was our last year…

I still search out an offbeat brand hiding in a corner—usually European and something that they only have five of. But because it’s the Bay it will be 50% off. Hot tip.

“Those are the cool jeans. I would wear those,” Elsie says more than once.

“You look like you had a really good job and then retired. Then you went out and bought a lot of cool stuff,” Violet calls out as I model the jeans on Christmas morning.

When our quarantine is over I wear the jeans in the car driving up to the farm. I’m desperate for an outing now and the bygone feeling of having places to go where sweat pants aren’t the right choice. How about a 2.5 hour car ride where nobody will see me and we will stop to get fast food and open little packets of ketchup in the dark? Sounds right to me.

All the Christmas lights in the neighbourhood—telling stories as we walk.

“Remember when you went tobogganing down this hill with Trish?”

“And she decided to go head first even though I said to steer clear of the fence.” Simon says.

“And then her leg got caught in the fence and Daddy had to run down to help her.” Elsie remembers every detail.

“It sounds grim,” Violet says.

“And I was stuck with you at the top because you were only three or four and crying for Daddy,” Elsie says.

“You weren’t there, Mommy?” Violet asks.

“Thankfully not,” I say. “But I was there when Elsie hurt her hand skating.”

“Actually, Daddy picked me up,” Elsie says.

“Nevermind,” I say, “I was there for the gruesome part, when the doctor showed me inside your finger.”

“Hm,” she says.

“And you, Violet, I held your little body covered in wires.”

I wait for the applause.

“And there was that one night when I was all alone, because Daddy took Elsie to Grandma’s. (Turns out hospitals suck for sleepovers.) And the nurse who was on duty thought she knew better. She said you didn’t need more pain medication. But I knew full well you did. And when the doctor came the next morning and saw your spiked heart rate, he said,

“Hm, it’s elevated because she’s in pain.”

I hold out my hands to show the family again what it’s like to hold a baby wrapped in wires. They clap this time.

“We’ve been through things together” is the theme of our walk.

Many things, hungrily, at the same time. I’m trying to preach my method to Elsie: have lots of books going so you have something for every mood. She’s not convinced. She’s a one-book-at-a-time girl. Me on the other hand…

Schooling myself with Disorientation by Ian Williams.

Revelling in the quirky characters of Jhumpa Lahiri’s beautiful short story collection Interpreter of Maladies.

Getting a quick hit of poetry with the Poetry is not a luxury instagram account.