the daily lovely, 11/22/2010

we had thanksgiving dinner this year. mum, dad, alex and i. even judy came down from montreal. it was so nice. we cooked a giant turkey. we laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. i was overjoyed at being surrounded by people whom i loved.

but one of my favourite moments from that wonderful night was when i was standing at the stove, making the gravy. my father was at the sink washing the dishes that had been dirtied so far. as we stood back to back, i stirring and he scrubbing, a tiny little soap bubble from his washing up drifted in front of me. it shimmered under the bright overhead light. it floated by me, and then off on its way.

the daily lovely, 07/12/2010

tonight i walked up the stairs to my apartment in bare feet and the steps were smooth and warm.

i gardened with my mum today, planted honeysuckle that may or may not survive, vines that probably will not, and tore up little cedars that mum had been wanting to remove for ages. i made a sign for them that said “free! please take us home with you!! we will not get much bigger than this, because we are dwarves. you have room for us, right?” and i put them at the curb.

by the time alex drove me home a half an hour ago, two of the four were already gone.

the daily lovely, 04/08/2010

driving around tonight i was reminded of a story from when i was young. a couple of friends and i went camping, and we came upon a shallow creek. obviously there had recently been people fishing there, there were some discarded hooks and fishing line left lying around. there was also a little sunfish that had been left on the bank next to the water. i wandered up to it, and found that its gills were still weakly moving. it was still alive! i picked it up and put it in the water, and it floated slowly to the surface, belly up. so i thought to myself, okay, this fish need water to go through its gills, but it doesn’t have the energy to do it itself anymore. i thought of sharks, and how they can’t pump the water they need through their gills themselves, so they need the forward momentum of their swimming to keep themselves breathing. i took hold of the little fish, and ran it back and forth through the water, like a kid playing with a toy car. i stood doing this for a minute or so, and then i loosened my fingers. the fish took off, swimming slowly but steadily away.

alshley plascott, thank you for giving me so many wonderful memories from that trip. saving that tiny sunfish is just one of the amazing things i get to remember on nights when i can’t sleep, and go driving around the city.