AKA A Rainy Shopping Day
It was pouring
rain in Arnprior Saturday so I went into Ottawa to buy a Globe and Mail. I like
its crossword puzzle. I stopped in to read it on my son’s couch while he coded
across the room. Very comfortable and congenial. We went out for coffee. I stayed for hours. But
this is all an aside.
On the way home I
dropped in at Value Village to look for curtains – not to block the view, I
love my view, just to help keep the heating bill down at night because my
windows are older - and I found 4 identical ones that looked like they’d do.
They were priced one at $4.99, one at $8.99, and two at $9.99. When I got to
the cash I asked what the return policy was, in case they didn’t fit or
something, and was told it was 7 days. I asked for a month, since I don’t live
in Ottawa, and the cashier allowed a compromise of 15 days. “Today is the 18th,”
she said, “so that would be the 39th of October.” I pointed out that
October doesn’t go to 39, that 15 days from now would be into November. “Oh.
You’re right,” she said, “the 39th of November then.” (What?) Next I
pointed out that the curtains had different prices. She offered to let me pay $8.99,
the middle price, for all of them, but I declined and said I’d just pay the
ticketed prices so she then told me I wasn’t allowed to do that. (What?) At
this point a supervisor came by and told her to give me all four of them at $4.99
each. She did. And my receipt says that I can return them for full refund up to
the 39th of November. It's all good. Except that I want to go back to teaching Math. I think
there is a need in Ontario.
I put them up that
evening. They’re great as long as you don’t mind the fact that they’re about a
foot too long and drag on the ground. I’m undecided if I’ll tape them up or
just cut them off. (Classy either way, I know.)
During the night a
cold front came through. I was, I hate to admit this, very glad not to be at
sea. The wind howled endlessly. I could hear it blowing through the trees,
whipping up the water, tossing about whatever it could find. Something, perhaps
my garage door, was rattling away outside. I went out to stand on my deck for a
bit. Low clouds were scudding by overhead. The white pine branches - I
have a fair size white pine growing up through a hole in the deck - were
thrashing about. It was wild. And I was glad not to be on a boat.
Maybe I’m getting
too old to crew.
The next morning,
this morning, when I got up and pulled my curtains open the wind was still
blowing away, the clouds were still low, and there in front of me was a bay
full of angry dark grey water with so many whitecaps that they were crashing
into each other. I was glad to be on land.
My house is on a
point, has water on three sides of it, and picture windows all round. As I stood
there and watched the water and the sky I realized that I choose to live here.
This little house, for all its faults, its old windows and faulty insulation,
was my choice. And I like it. I can’t really afford to live here, the rent
takes up a bigger chunk of my pay check than I’d like, and I really really
don’t want to know what it’s going to cost to heat over the winter (so I’ve
advertised for a roommate to help out with that.) But I’m getting off topic
again. As I stood there looking out over the expanse of water, the far shore a
fall mix of dark green and gold with some patches of russet and red, several
groups of Canadian geese flying low over the water, thinking, I’m sure, that it
was about time to head south, I realized that this is the first place I’ve
lived in, for ages, that I’ve chosen. My previous house, which was, of course,
always, Geoff’s, was his choice. I came to love it but it was his choice. And
before that, when I was in limbo, my mother always chose somewhere for me to
live and I never stood up to her choices. And before that, of course, Andre had
made all the decisions. It had been, I realized, over a quarter of a century
since I’d chosen where to live. And I am happy with my current decision. I’m sure that
most of my friends and acquaintances would be horrified - at the small size of
my house, its rundown state, its hand-me-down furnishings, its Value Village
curtains that drag on the floor… But I like it. I was sitting on my couch the
other evening with a plate of dinner and a new National Geographic to keep me
company and they both sat forgotten on my lap while outside, across the bay a
series of storms flew east chasing after each, a line of flat wet steel grey squalls,
and then later a huge double rainbow filled the sky and I wished I had a go-pro
and I’d filmed the whole show and I realized that my supper was cold and I
considered getting up and going to re-heat it but decided instead just to sit,
a little longer, and watch while the rainbow faded and the darkness to slowly folded into night. And it was SO beautiful.
I still don’t want
to be here, living on my own, in Arnprior, teaching, but there are silver
linings both literal and metaphorical; I love the view, I love being close
enough to at least one of my kids that I can drop in for coffee… and, maybe, in
time, as I take ownership of the place (you know, buy cheap curtains and such) the
rest will grow on me.
