Perry's Pen

This morning, I woke up to -6 degrees Celsius (about 20F) and a few inches of “snow” on the ground.

The bottom right-hand corner of my laptop said April, but it felt very, very January. How can people not understand the disconnect between virtual and real?

I put “snow” in quotes because it was the steel wool type of snow – ice pellets suspended in white cobwebs of frozen precipitation. It hurt to look at that stuff, even through a few panes of glass with a coffee in my hand.

Yesterday was better, though.

It was still January weather in April, but the sky was blue for most of the day. Knowing that “spring” is just around the corner and looking at baseball box scores makes it easier to take. I guess.

But man, have you SEEN the price of coffee these days?

I decided to stay in all day, get some cleaning and chores done, and be nostalgic for the “historical January day” that had occurred a mere 24 hours ago, or maybe 24 years ago.

A deal on EVOO!

A lifetime ago, a day ago, I braved the January-in-April weather to head out for groceries. I picked up a liter of (allegedly) Italian olive oil for (allegedly) half price. It was the first time I had bout olive oil in at least a decade, maybe forever.

And here is the best part – you have a head start if you are among the very young at heart

On the way home, I stood at the back exit of the bus. That’s my comfort zone. Nobody exits from the rear anymore, and I have a private space away from nutjobs.

I clutched my two “enviro-friendly” polyester bags of chopped-up animal parts and that liter of artery-clogging oil like I was hanging on to the look I just scored from a bank robbery.

“Just try it, fucker. I’ll have you braized and glistening before the next stop!”

Michelle lead the pack

Then something stupendous and life-affirming happened on that frigid January day in April.

The bus I was on slowed as it approached a stop, a red light.

A group of girls was coming off a side street, running with everything they had, trying to make the bus. Pre-school-aged, on their way home from daycare.

Out front was a little white girl, cheeks as red as an apple because of the January weather in April.

There was a determination in her face, an aura of YES about her. Nothing meant anything to her except making the bus. She knew she was bigger than the bus, the other kids, and the daycare dingaling that Justin Trudeau brought from some country he had played dress up with.

The little girl knew. She. Fucking. Knew.

As she got on the bus, I looked outside the laminated panes of glass, trying to hide my emotions, thinking that I had just seen the spirit of my late wife.

I saw a man who looked as old as I feel, smiling as wide as I was.

“Yup, the world stops for the right kind of girl”

The girl got off after a stop or two, way too soon. So did Michelle.

“Stoopid Winter” – chelle

The girl in this video is chelle, and she was proud about that. i am too.