- visiting my mama at the airport on the last leg of her trip home from Korea.
- handmade silk fans.
- presents from foreign countries.
- photographs taken by someone with a good eye.
- hearing my mama say “I love you” in person.
Tag: family
grace in small things. 183 of 365.
- watching a blind person see a sculpture with their hands.
- witnessing a small child’s first boat ride.
- being told by someone you love that they are now officially divorced, and hearing the happiness in their voice.
- the swell of pride you get when you see how someone has flourished after being held back for years.
- inviting someone to come for a visit, and knowing that, as soon as they can, they will make the trip.
grace in small things. 180 of 365.
- moss covered roofs.
- the unusual amount of men and their young sons out enjoying the day together, just the two of them.
- the hilarious things children say.
- finding the best chicken curry soup.
- long massages.
grace in small things. 157 of 365.
- the mother who had trained her son to spray her bare legs with a water bottle while out in the hot sun.
- the funny shadows my pigtails made on the concrete as I walked.
- surviving the newfangled bike lane/pedestrian madness on the bridge.
- the man getting a hand job from his boyfriend while driving home because that’s what happens when you live in Vancouver and it’s Pride week.
- being handed the keys to my new air conditioned office.
grace in small things. 152 of 365.
- the very rare event of thunder and lightening in the city.
- the sounds of cheering when lightening lights up the sky, which sounds just like the cheering when the fireworks go off.
- thrift store shopping with the woman who taught me how to thrift store shop.
- a lovely dinner enjoyed on the balcony.
- the combined Mcgyvering talents of my mother and I.
grace in small things. 150 of 365.
- the man carrying two bonsai trees down the street.
- having lunch with three of my favourite women.
- buses that drop me off two blocks from home.
- taking my fabulous purple purse out for the first time.
- champagne, pajamas and movies with my lovely mother.
grace in small things. 147 of 365.
- rainbows that appear on my wall from the morning sun hitting the glass fishbowl.
- the man who may have been my soul mate based on the fact that he was eating two jumbo freezies, at the same time, while walking down the street.
- eucalyptus scented glass cleaner.
- knowing that at this time tomorrow, my mama will be in my apartment.
- the excitement of getting to show her the lovely little life I have created here, for the first time.
you say tomato, i say get the hell off my balcony.
Someone asked me whether I thought the pigeons love me or hate me. I like to think that we have the same relationship one does with a sibling. Sure your brother may torment you and make your Barbie do dirty things with G.I. Joe, but if something ever happened, they would be there in a second to help you. Maybe I’m too optimistic, but I would hope that if I was ever lost and needed to send a message to the outside world, I could enlist the help of a pigeon to carry that message and that they would love me enough to not eat the note.
Or maybe the pigeons just hate me. They do like to poop on my stuff. That doesn’t sound like love to me. Anyway, whether it’s love or hate, the pigeons need to vacate my premises.
Last week, when the pigeons stopped even pretending to be afraid of me, I snapped. At one point I was yelling “I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU WITH A STICK” which, in case you’re wondering, is not something I would normally be inclined to yell or do. I had to rearrange the barricades on the balcony. I kept a glass of water handy so that I could splash them with it. I seriously contemplated hurling strawberries at their heads. They retaliated by inviting a third pigeon to join them. And some sparrows. I have become Francis of Assisi. Except less loving, and more angry. And with boobs.
Because the Rage is starting to get the better of me, I decided to try out a home remedy for deterring pigeons. Enter the tomatoes. Apparently pigeons don’t like the smell of tomato plants. So, I went out for an adventure today. I went to a garden store. I think the last time I was in one was about 6 years ago. It was overwhelming. This time though, I was not overwhelmed. I was on a mission. I came out of the store with three small tomato plants, a bag of dirt and a tree. The tree makes me happy. The tree does not however, scare away birds. That is unless I want to follow through with my threats of beating the pigeons with a stick, because technically, the tree IS a big stick.
I came home with my new green friends and made a big mess on my living room floor while I re-potted them. Tomorrow, they will start their life on my balcony. I hope they like it out there. And if any of the pigeons defile my plants in anyway, the profanity that will pour from my mouth will be quite spectacular.
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