May 1st, 2020

Lazy Teenager Sourdough

I learned to make sourdough bread in about 1990, as part of my 4-H heritage baking course. It was fun and somewhat odd and impressed people, especially my parents who were the main consumers of anything I baked, and I’m mainly in the baking game for praise, so I kept at it. When we finished the course, the leader gave us some of her starter, which she had gotten when she married in the 1960s. I put in the freezer for long stretches when I was away at university but kept that starter alive for nearly 30 years until I murdered it through carelessness last fall and had to get a new one from a friend.

I’ve been startled both by how popular sourdough baking has become and how hard the modern-day version of it looks. I mainly use my old 4-H recipes and a Sunset Bread book from the 1970s that fell apart and I kept only the sourdough pages–when I read about what other people are up to with sourdough, I think, well, maybe that’s the right way and I could be doing more, but then I follow the links they post and get overwhelmed with doing something every day just to maintain the starter–you don’t even necessarily get any bread. And so many steps that might fail and ways to feel bad, and potentially end up with bad bread or even NO BREAD.

Look, I’m not saying you won’t have nicer starter, and nicer bread than mine if you do all those extra steps–you well might, and I have no way of leaving the house to taste-test anything right now. And the one luxury of the pandemic is time, so if you want to absorb your extra time with sourdough efforts, that seems worthwhile. BUT this is already a somewhat fussy bread-sport, and if you’re looking to keep it as part of your life post-pandemic, I recommend trying to trim down the effort to something a lazy teenager could manage. Since I once was such a teenager, here are some tips on the absolute least you can do for sourdough and still have nice–maybe not the nicest, but nice–bread.

1. Healthy, active starter can go in the fridge for weeks at a time. Sometimes longer, but not necessarily longer–you should check up on it and give it a stir from time to time (not doing that is how I killed mine last fall). It can go in the freezer for months. Cold makes it dormant, not dead.
2. To activate dormant starter, just put it out at room temperature for 24 hours and then do your feeding process (I’m just not going to weigh in on that–I’ve seen such disparate things on the internet. Everyone feed their starter as they wish.)
3. If you are having trouble getting starter activated, or bread to rise, because your kitchen is cool, put it in the OFF oven (with a sign if you are forgetful or your housemates are untrustworthy) and a pan of hot water on the rack underneath. Change out the water as it cools or whenever you remember.
4. Never ever heat starter–that is what kills it, or rather, cooks it (this happened once on Brooklyn 99 when Gina put starter near a space heater–it was exciting to have a sourdough plot line!)
5. Starter should be fully activated before you attempt to bake with it–like, bubbles and smells yeasty. But you don’t need to get too scientific about exactly how activated.
6. Recipes where sourdough is the only leaven (rising agent) pretty much all require two rises–one longish one for the sponge (starter plus a couple other ingredients, essentially a bowl of goo) and one shortish one for the finished loaf or rolls before they bake. Recipes with more rises may be more delicious–I have no idea–but you certainly don’t have to do more than two. When there’s another leaven like baking powder or soda or even yeast (I saw such a recipe, I swear!), the rises may be different or it may even be a “quick bread,” which means it rises during baking only and the sourdough is just for flavour. Some of these are quite nice and a good way to use up starter when you don’t have a tonne of time–don’t be snobby!
7. Except for timing, you can’t really adjust recipes. Rise times will depend on the temperature and airborne yeast in your kitchen, and bake times will depend on the quirks of your oven, but otherwise baking is chemistry and you just need to follow the formula. People have tried to adjust sugar or salt in bread recipes at their peril–it’s not necessarily going to wind up sugary or salty, it’s just going in there and reacting. Even different fat contents in milk will have different effects–don’t mess with it. Good bread recipes will tell you how to adjust if you want whole-wheat bread, etc., because it’s not 1:1 on the flour. If the recipe contains ingredients you don’t have or don’t want to use, just find another recipe rather than fiddle with it. (Obviously, there are very expert bread-makers who know how to adjust the recipes, and sometimes you’ll just get lucky, but unless you really know what you’re doing, most of the time, messing with the recipe will mess up the bread.)
8. Use the right size pan or loaves or buns or whatever (whatever the recipe says) and watch the oven like a hawk. Like, check 2/3 of the way through the baking just to see–this is all too much work to see it get burnt right at the end.

There, the sum of my sourdough expertise–it’s honestly not very much but has allowed me to cruise through many years of bread-making with much pleasure and little stress. I hope this doesn’t sound condescending, because it’s not like I think I know so much–more that I don’t think anyone needs to know so much. Sourdough was originally the bread of Alaskan gold miners–not really known for the culinary skills. They carried it on the dogsleds and then, when they got to camp–they baked. Sounds sort of nice, really….

April 29th, 2020

Pandemic Diary V: April 13 to 20

April 13: That thing that is going around where I list ten things that are reasonably popular with the general population that I, personally, do not enjoy:

1) gravy
2) activities where something attaches to my feet (skiing, ice skating, rollerblading, etc.)
3) parades
4) TV shows about cooking (unless they tell you HOW to cook a thing, which is never in 2020)
5) alcohol
6) good-natured teasing
7) getting a lot more information on something I already know is bad (of everything on this list, #7 is probably the hardest one to convince others of)
8) podcasts and webseries that just funny people hanging out
9) debate
10) fondant (although, actually, there’s *lots* of fondant in the world, but does *anybody* actually like it?)

(2) Evan has learned to play tug of war. #catsofinstagram

Day 32 (yesterday’s status that never got posted somehow): it is raining. Slightly tricky work puzzle to figure out, felt my brain protesting angrily (still solved it, but am now exhausted). It was indeed a slothful weekend, I hope I am not fully ruined for industrious effort now.

I have been finding new things to be anxious about as we leave the apartment less and less, which does not bode well. Last night we made a roast chicken et al for dinner, and it was very nice. As he was packing up the leftovers, Mark said to be careful when I ate them because there might be little bones in there. I said, “Well, then I won’t eat any.” This morning I demanded that if Mark ate any, he call me so I could keep an eye on him in case he choked. Remembered the terrifying time I briefly choked on a fishbone in a restaurant and was too embarrassed to say anything until after I coughed it out. Once the crisis was averted, I didn’t want to eat the rest of my fish in case there were more stealth bones and my friend (who appears to no longer be on facebook) leaned over and cut it all up for me and patted all the pieces and said, “See, no bones!” and I saw his whole future as an excellent father (which was right) and so I ate the fish. Later that night we went to a reading and that was the second time I’d ever talked to Mark Sampson and my voice sounded funny because the bone cut up my throat but it was still really nice.

Man, I miss going out with friends and restaurants and readings (and cheerfully letting others touch my food). I watched Mark eat the leftovers and he didn’t choke, but can not choking be really be the best one can say about an experience?

Day 33–I have been putting off calling my doctor regarding prescription renewals hoping that somehow the pandemic would just…go away, and I wouldn’t be faced with the choice between going to an office with potential sick/germy people and doing without my usual drugs. But I call just now, and I could make a phone appointment for tomorrow! So easy and not scary–and no germs! FYI in case you, too, have been worried about making the call!

(2)

I self-inject mediation once a month, which is not frequently enough to become either proficient or blasé about self-injection, so I make Mark monitor me in case I–I don’t know–hit something important with the needle. Conversation while I was sterilizing my thigh, readying the needle, and injecting:

RR: Someone is doing a most hated high-school books bracket on twitter.
MS: Ooh, what’s winning?
RR: So far they’re just collecting nominations. What would you nominate?
MS: Shane! For sure!
RR: Oh, I didn’t read that one. It’s about…
(at the same moment) MS: A horse. RR: A pimp?
MS: I think there was a pimp in it. (Takes out his phone, googles, starts reading Wikipedia) …set in 1889 Wyoming, when Wyoming Territory was still open to the Homestead Act of 1862…maybe not a pimp.
RR: …(faintly) a bad muthaf*cka…?
MS: …
RR: …
MS: You’re thinking of Shaft.
RR: Oh. (does injection wrong in some way I do not understand, bleeds)
MS (shoulder hug) It’ll be all right.

Day 34–I have a long tunic/short minidress that I generally wear on the former setting, with leggings or opaque tights. But today, alone in my apartment with husband and cats for 34 days, is the day–bare legs, baby!

(2) Made some late night hummus because why not? It is pink because I used beet tahini. I think it’s gorgeous. #hummus #whynot #whatamidoingwithmylife

Day 35 (or possibly day 1000, no way to tell) neighbour noise report: my neighbourhood is extremely noisy, but if I delve into that it gets whiny really fast. I have been marinating in noises for 35 days, suffice to say.

INSIDE our building, interestingly, is not noisy–it is one of those old 70s cinderblock constructions where, if you can hear your neighbours, your neighbours are doing something unusual. So here is the report on our neighbours, all of whom are 98% silent but I’ve had 9 years to find out what I can and 35 days to really ponder it: north-side neighbours are a couple and their perhaps 10yo? daughter. The dad is friendly enough, the mom is very reserved, but the little girl would like to pet our cats and possibly even talk to me at the elevators so the mom is cordial for her sake. They once had an elderly woman staying with them who paced the hall for hours and slightly frightened me. The only noise we have ever heard from their place took me quite a while to figure out, turned out to be a popcorn popper that was touching the wall for a few minutes. The only noise ever. South-side neighbours are the couple with the tiny baby who I have mentioned before in this space–although they refuse to be rude, they very definitely wish to talk to me never. Pre-pandemic I never heard a peep from them, but since i have been home I have heard the baby crying once, someone jumping rope once, and a few things falling on the floor. Also once a loud argument that may or may not have been on tv. Across the hall neighbours are a couple with a miniature dachshund and, they claim, a cat which I have never seen. I occasionally hear them chatting happily or their tv if I am in the hallway (the doors are less soundproof than the walls). The previous occupant told me that apartment is a bachelor, and they have lived there for more than 5 years and just seem really joyful for two men and two pets living in a single room. These neighbours are pretty friendly but, unlike the other two mentioned, speak English as a first language, so that could have something to do with it (there is another couple with a miniature dachshund living down the hall, also two men, also friendly–I don’t know if they have a cat or not). Upstairs neighbours: these are the ceiling singers, whom I’ve mentioned here before. I think there are several of them, I think they are pretty young, but since we don’t share a corridor we can’t be sure. They definitely love music, they are definitely mainly untalented, and they have a lot of friends to throw parties for. They are a tiny bit noisy, but since they replaced an abusive parent who screamed and threw things, I appreciate them every single day. Downstairs neighbours–no available information, we have never heard anything and never knowingly seen them. Since noise travels down more easily than up in a building, probably we are their noise, although we are really quiet according to me. I wonder what they think….

Day 36, things edition. At the beginning of the lockdown, I refused to order anything for delivery–then, a few weeks in, I went berserk and ordered the following: a yoga mat, since my old one was trapped at work (and also is the free one I got with Special K purchases that is falling apart); a bunch of new leggings/jeggings, since I didn’t have very many and those too were falling apart and even I can’t wear skirts/tights when I’m home all day everyday); new earbuds for walks around the neighbourhood since, again, I had destroyed my existing ones. Except for my tendency to ruin all my belongings, I’m a fairly thrifty person and I wound up feeling really guilty about all the deliveries while also really enjoying each and every one of them.

Before and since, I’ve also been wandering through the apartment, finding things that I had forgotten about. Even as people who allegedly buy very little, we had still accumulated all these random nice things that we didn’t even have time to appreciate…until now… Here is what turned up:
–Kitchen: arborio rice (the kind you make risotto with), dried kidney beans, chia seeds, lasagna noodles, beet tahini, several fancy teas, sourdough starter, hot chocolate, ground almonds, sweetened condensed milk, frozen pumpkin–all things bought for some recipe or given as gifts and then just kind of…there (except the sourdough, which is eternal) all now used up, except for a bit of tea and of course the starter, which is eternal. So many good meals!
–Bathroom: vast collection of nail polishes, though I swore off buying nail polish over 5 years ago; fancy shower oil; fancy soap; fancy moisturizer; shower puff in the shape of a rose; perfume that I always worry is too strong to wear to work; essential oil for migraine. I’m working on using this stuff up, and my nails and skin look amazing. I’m also having a very well-scented lockdown!
–Bureau: vast collection of scarves, none of which turned out to be good for making masks, but it is fun to wear pretty silk scarves every day! Actually, that’s kind of it in that area–I’m not really dressing up much these days.
–Bookshelves: Arcadia by Tom Stoppard, which is one of Mark’s faves but I had never read. Now I’m reading it aloud with a couple friends over Zoom and it’s one of the highlights of my week! I’m also making some slow progress on my New Yorker backlog and a treat for this weekend is Tabitha Southey’s Collected Tarts, which I bought I don’t know how long ago and somehow just never got to.

That’s all I can think of, but there’s probably actually more! Oh, a cool rice paper notebook from high school that only had like 4 pages written on! Anyway, as we cope with boredom and financial belt-tightening, it’s nice to have all this stuff to play with. Have you found anything fun lying around your place?

Day 38. Because I have started spending the entire day and evening in a single room, I have come to have somewhat strange feelings about this room. Whereas in the Before, I would wake up, go to the gym, shower, TTC to work, work all day and maybe go to a few meetings, TTC home, eat dinner, and then write in my home office in the evenings, now I wake up, do a YouTube workout in my home office, shower, work all day in my home office, eat dinner, and write all evening in said office. Most video calls, online games, and watching of TV Mark does not like is also done in here. I know, I know, cry me a river–it is very nice having this office and I don’t take it for granted. But I have been spending up to twelve hours a day in here and have noticed way too much about the paint on the walls, the window frame, the very non-ergonomic desk setup (I thought it was great until recently), etc. etc. I wonder when I will be able to go back to finding this a pleasant little room again…hopefully someday!

Day 39, somehow. Overwhelmed with sadness about the murders in Nova Scotia. I don’t usually talk about big horrors on social media because I don’t have anything unique or comforting to say, but since all forms have self-censorship have gone out the window in the pandemic: I’m sad and I don’t have anything useful to say about that.

My tomato seedlings are starting to get their adult leaves. Evan threw up this morning (twice), but on an easy-to-clean surface. It occurred to me that part of why TV never looks realistic to me is that everyone’s clothes have clearly been put on 10 minutes ago and have no creases from sitting down or anything–no one ever looks like that in real life.

I continue to be upset about the homeless situation during C-19 (and not during C-19, but particularly right now)–I keep finding tents in my neighbourhood in new spots wherever I go for a walk. I’ve been donating to different food programs to support people in need, but it doesn’t feel like enough. If you’re acquainted with an organization in Toronto that is helping people in poverty through this crisis, I’m happy to hear about it. I can post a list of places I know about so far plus the new suggestions I receive, if others are interested…

April 21st, 2020

Pandemic Diary IV: April 5 to 12

Day 24 was less exciting than day 23–I took a walk across the viaduct, and it was SO exciting to be somewhere I hadn’t been and see things I hadn’t seen in a while. Nevertheless, I may not do it again–the sidewalk is narrow on the bridge and my usual dodge of stepping into the bike lane isn’t always available due to actual bikes. It was more or less ok because I was alone but the people walking with someone else were either constantly walking single file or deeply obnoxious–if you go, go solo. Anyway, other than making a frittata that fell apart, that was today’s main event.

Some leftover events from other days include finally planting my seedlings yesterday and cooking something called “broccoli tots” purchased in the early days of the pandemic, when you couldn’t really get frozen veg and we took what was available. We got better stuff later so these have been hanging around taking up freezer space, so I made them yesterday and they were DREADFUL. Like a tater tot but bad–so hard to describe. Neither of us could really eat very many, and we are not a household that wastes food. But I did grab the pan and serving spoon when the 7:30 cheer went up for front-line workers. As we stood on the balcony, banging our dirty broccoli-tot pan along with the cacophony of St. James Town (some people have figured out how to deliberately set off their car alarms at 7:30; it’s very impressive), Mark said that these were the sorts of things that would get into the history books, which is such a wild thought. i never think of being IN history. I thought of that old Gary Trudeau cartoon, “journalists write the rough drafts of history.” This is now–we’re in the rough draft, friends.

If you are looking for a distraction from reality, may I recommend this gloriously bonkers New Yorker article from November 2017 (don’t ask), Fantastic Beasts and How to Rank Them by Kathryn Schultz. Nothing here that practical applies to daily life–I loved it so much

(2) Playing that game everyone likes. Ten jobs I’ve had—one is a lie:
1. English tutor
2. Library info person
3. Movie ticket taker
4. Book store sales person
5. Fast food counter staff
6. Box company admin
7. Fruit company admin
8. Chambermaid
9. Proofreader
10. Creative writing teacher

Alarmingly this is actually EVERY ongoing paid job I’ve ever had, not counting my internship and my current job. I tend to stick with things, I guess. [Edit: #3 is the lie. Also it was pointed out that I skipped my TAship job by my old TAship supervisor–and I liked that one! oops!]

Day 25, blessing counting edition. I have never quite understood mitigating a problem by thinking of a worse problem one doesn’t have–“Sure, I missed the bus, but at least I’m not actively on fire” ??? But I do get trying to mitigate problems by focusing on what I do have and not what I don’t, or what might go wrong–which I guess is just a reframing of the same thing. I have been very lucky in this troubling time and I’m really trying to soften my anxiety by dwelling on the good and not the bad.

Good things today:
–sunny
–friendly colleagues
–lunch hour book club meeting
—Mark Sampson‘s good humour about cat attempting to throw himself in the toilet
–hilarious cat
–Yoga with Adriene (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAUf7aajBWE)
–mini carrots
–fixed my own IT issue
–when Mark walked in as I was watching How to Get Away with Murder last week, he asked “What’s happening?” and I said, “They’ve been arrested for murder” and he asked “Are they guilty?” and I got to say, “Not of this one” which is such a great punchline. I always like to say the punchlines!

Day 26 promises to be a glamour train because I am GIVING BLOOD, my first appointment anywhere with anyone other than a video conference in almost a month. I realize my excitement is misplaced but I don’t care–people need blood, which I am willing to provide, and I am need to LEAVE MY APARTMENT. It’s a fair trade. I am currently wearing a dress and tights, and may later put on makeup. Of course, per yesterday’s conversation, I will also be wrapping most of my face in a cotton scarf (that matches my dress) until I can get the whole mask thing under control. I have been experimenting with how good I am at breathing through fabric–not great–and it’s a fair walk to the clinic. This is going to be interesting. Interesting is fine.

Last night’s bedtime dialogue:
Mark Sampson: You’ll be fine.
RR: I don’t know.
MS: You will, you’ll see.
RR: You’re going to wake up in the night to me covering you in peanut butter just to feel alive.
MS: …well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
RR: Oh, my god.
MS: Tomorrow is another day.
RR: …
MS: I mean, technically. It’ll actually be just like this one.
RR: AHHHH!

(2) Friends, Mark and I played Scrabble at lunch instead of a) hunching at our computers and ignoring each other or b) attempting to have a conversation about the no places we’d gone and the no people we’d seen since breakfast. It was a great compromise level of interaction. Highly recommended (Mark won; he always wins).

(3)

Final chapter on my blood donation event (I assume that anyone who did not want every detail of my life would have unfriended or muted 20+ days ago): it was fine! The clinic was very organized and, though they had limited their capacity (no walk-ins) was operating at a good pace and had a number of donors. Everyone was nice. I found it tense, much like I find grocery shopping tense these days, but unlike at the grocery store you get to lie in a reclining chair and everyone is very kind and no one gets into your space without a mask and gloves. Of course, the staff bends over backwards to make it a good experience because the blood is so needed so they want us to come back and tell our friends and I’m here to tell you: GIVING BLOOD IS A GOOD EXPERIENCE. If you feel up to it, I encourage it. At the end, you get snacks and congratulations and the feeling of exhilaration of knowing you’ve done something good and also don’t have to go back for another 56 days.

On the way home, I was so happy to be out in society and someone somehow dropped a t-shirt off a high balcony and I watched it float onto Bloor Street and an old man smiled at me for my appropriate social distancing and I was thinking how much I disagree with the people are who say self-isolation is great because they never wanted to associate with most people anyway and then a hailstone hit me in the eye. I was so startled I kept looking at the sky and then the ground and then the sky again–more hailstones! I ran to the mall entrance but of course the mall was shut because pandemic. I explained this to a number of other people, but we did not have the rueful bonding conversation I normally would have had with strangers in that situation because pandemic.

Finally I ran home through a waning rainstorm in time for pizza with Mark and the 7:30 front-line cheer, which I realized is led by someone with one of those ballpark horns who kicks things off at the stroke of 7:30 and stops at exactly 7:35. When St. James Town quieted down, we could hear other neighbourhoods cheering on in the distance.

Society, man–I like it.

Day 27, everything that is wrong with the Bay’s online ordering site edition:
–every search function–by brand, by category, by product–only yields a few of the more expensive options. I eventually found what I wanted by looking at the expensive things and then looking at the “customers who looked at this eventually ordered that” options. I assume everyone ordered that second thing, since it’s half the price and not shiny.
–claims I already had an account and couldn’t create a new one but offered no clues as to what that account might be (or HOW THEY KNEW)
–the “forgot password” email never came

And yes, I had to persist with this and really hope The Bay sorts itself out and sends me my shipment of nondescript, inexpensive leggings soon. My previous wardrobe calculations did not allow for my life going in this direction.

Day 28, wow, four weeks! I honestly cannot remember how I felt five weeks ago. Was I scared going out in groups? Did I hope we’d all start self-isolating soon? Did I think C-19 (doesn’t that roll off the tongue easier than Covid-19?) would go away in a few weeks, somehow or other? I do not know–it feels like another lifetime.

I do remember how it felt four weeks ago when I finally did start self-isolating, and that my apartment was the safest little bubble and I was so happy I could just stay here and work from home and not feel pressure to leave. I guess…I somewhat still feel this way but I am also having so much trouble with the constriction. I’m trying to channel past RR and remember my good fortune in staying in but honestly I had a fight with Mark last night about how to fold sheets and later accused him of seeking vengeance by deliberately kissing me after eating peanut butter and these are not things I do when I’m at my best.

In other news, well…I’ve started a project to wash and dry my vast collection of scarves and then wear each one to decide whether I should keep it or not, so I guess, stay tuned for a lot of scarf news?? Some of my seedlings have started to come up, so they are thriving even if I am not. I may make matzoh later–Happy Passover, if you observe, by the way.

I’m glad I have been keeping this weird Facebook diary because honestly it is so hard to remember what happens from week to week. Time is weird!

(2) Here’s a story: when I was a whippersnapper, my folks always gave my brother and me baskets of candy and made a nice dinner on Easter (in addition to Passover dinner) so we wouldn’t feel left out in our pretty Christian community but we didn’t, like, talk about Easter, beyond bunnies and candy. I picked up the gist of it somewhere along the way, but I didn’t have a lot of details until grade 8, when my teacher was a very devout Christian. It is my impression (I’m not sure who told me this, but I’m pretty sure I’m right) that he’d gotten in trouble for teaching religious themes in a public school before, so the year I was in his class, in the weeks leading up to Easter, we did a very in-depth, thoughtful study of narrative study of the film version of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Jesus Christ, Superstar. To be clear, this was an excellent teacher, and a pretty excellent musical too, and I learned both text and subtext very thoroughly. And despite my dislike of anyone getting around a rule, I suppose there’s not exactly anything to hold a grudge over–I did have fun. But that still remains my entire education on the Easter story, and what parts are and are not in the Bible, while *pretty* clear to me, are not crystal.

Day 29. Today I walked way north into Rosedale and crossed to another side of the ravine–something I could theoretically have always done but never bothered to do because why would I? I was wandering along passing all these big gorgeous houses thinking about how it really makes sense to be rich during a pandemic and then I found–a park! A giant park, with a big open field, and no gate, and although the play structure and hockey rink (?!!) were blocked off, the rest was free and you could just go in and walk around if you wanted to, and a few people were, very carefully socially distancing.

If I’m being brutally honest, and i guess that’s where these posts are going, my first reaction was furious envy. At a time where pretty much nothing in St. James Town is usable, outdoor space-wise, this hit me really hard–I have the time and mobility to walk and get to this oasis, but who else does? This pandemic is going to make me an urban green space advocate.

As I walked through, I passed some parents playing soccer with their little kids and someone accidentally kicked the ball into the road. The tiny girl went running for it and the mom shrieked in terror that she should stop. I was nearer the ball and raised my arm to signal I’d get it for them and began to jog over–and then I realized that going near the family or touching their toy was no favour and stopped. I watched to make sure the woman caught the kid before she ran into traffic, and then ran away myself, burning with embarrassment. Remember when we could spontaneously help each other?

Umm….something brighter to end on…??? I saw a willow tree! You almost never see those on private property in Toronto or really anywhere in Toronto, I think because lots are generally too small for a willow’s roots not to wreck your plumbing or foundation, but the lots are bigger in Rosedale and there was a little willow, right on the edge of someone’s property. I’m grateful to Ariel Gordon for nudging me to think about my favourite tree, because it is definitely willows but I didn’t know that before she asked me. Anyway, I was really glad to see this little guy just coming into bud by the ravine, and I felt lucky to be out and moving and seeing trees at all–definitely something I will not take for granted again.

Day 30, slowest day. Mark grocery shopped alone as instructed and I scurried over when commanded to help carry the bags home. Otherwise, I’ve been fiddling around with the plants and reading a bit–really not an exciting day. So here are some updates on things we’ve been watching on TV through the pandemic, since that is more interesting than reality…and maybe others could use some new stuff to watch?

Brooklyn 99 re-watch (Netflix)–brilliant sitcom copshow, rewatch //ongoing since the beginning of the year. One of our most beloved shows–season 7 on Netflix April 24, just when we finish reviewing seasons 1-6

Feel Good (Netflix)–limited series about a queer Canadian standup comic living in England who is recovering drug addict and in love with a woman who won’t come out of the closet (and is pretty classist too, but that isn’t directly addressed). If that sounds like melodrama, it is, but it has a few funny moments. We watched the full series despite it not being very good because it stars Mae Martin, who is terribly charming, and her mom is Lisa Kudrow, in an amazing performance. The rest of it I could take or leave, but this is a pandemic–we do what we can.

Dear Mr. Watterson (Kanopy)–a documentary about the artist of Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson, except that guy is a recluse so it’s largely a documentary about just liking Calvin and Hobbes. Boring and self-involved–did not finish. Reminded me of the also boring and self-involved biography Searching for JD Salinger by Ian Hamilton–same problem.

Maudie (Kanopy)–a biopic about the Nova Scotia artist Maude Lewis starring Sally Hawkins and Ethan Hawke. Great, great performances, beautiful scenery, beautiful cinematography, and a meandering simple story that does not force an arc onto the artist’s life. We both really loved it. I would not have believed Hawke could play a gruff illiterate fish-pedlar but he was great. Hawkins always great. Highly recommended.

Assorted Simpsons Episodes (Disney+)–sometimes you just feel like watching the Simpsons, or people of a certain age do, I guess. Also trying to feel like we are paying for Disney+ for a reason since the one time we watched a nature documentary all the lions died at the end so I won’t be doing that again.

Big Mouth Table Read (YouTube)–various American TV shows (maybe Canadian too, I haven’t seen any??) have been doing YouTube specials for charity and we were excited for a Big Mouth one since there haven’t been new episodes for so long. Except it wasn’t a new episode–it was one we saw last fall. Still interesting to see everyone’s faces and here the cross-talk, and confirms my my deep and abiding love of Maya Rudolph, but did not finish since essentially a rewatch.

Schitt’s Creek (CBC Gem)–we’ve been watching the last season episode by episode as they land and…please don’t kill me for saying this, because I love this show, but I haven’t thought the current season has been very good!?! Everyone seemed to kind of regress, when they had been making progress as characters. Of course I will watch the finale, probably tonight, and I’m looking forward to it–but compared to last season, just not as brilliant.

How to Get Away with Murder (CTV website)–if you haven’t followed it diligently up until now, there’s no point jumping in in season 6–it’s hard to follow even if you know all the back story. Probably just not a good show at this point, but I do. not. care.

Jesus Christ Superstar (YouTube)–@Peter Saunders let me know Andrew Lloyd Weber has put some musicals onto YouTube, including this one for Easter Weekend. We watched about half last night, which was huge for Mark who hates musicals. It was weird to see a modern adaptation (set during the Occupy movement, which pretty much made sense) and I liked it but I just kept wanting it to be in the desert and full of hippies, Idk.

Unorthodox (Netflix)–a limited series recommended to me by a friend not onFB, and didn’t seem like my sort of thing–a young woman flees her Hasidic community in Brooklyn for an independent life in Europe–but it is fascinating and very well done. We’ve watched 2 of the four episodes so far–NO SPOILERS PLEASE. This and Maudie are probably my fave pandemic views so far! What are yours?

Day 31, I bought some foiled eggs when I went to pick up my prescription last week and asked Mark to hide them for me this morning so I could have an egg hunt–not normally something we’d do, but looking for any form of entertainment now. It was actually really fun! When I’d run out of steam, I asked if I’d found them all, and Mark said no but the remaining eggs were safe from cats so I could just try again later and we ate breakfast. I tried to eat at a chocolate egg with my cottage cheese and it turns out that I am now officially can’t-stomach-chocolate-at-breakfast years old. Grim shock!

Later, we moved the living room furniture around to do an YouTube workout, which is another pandemic innovation, and as we were hopping around I found a bunch more eggs. I feel like there’s a lesson in there somewhere about changing things up and seeing from a new angle to yield treasures–C-19 has certainly given me some new perspectives. I actually later tried to go to that park I found on Friday, coming at it via a different, less circuitous route, and couldn’t!! Again, something about getting the perspective right, right??

Miscellaneous updates include Mark seeing someone walking a cat today while he (Mark, not the cat) was out jogging and my household being mildly scandalized by the final episode of Schitt’s Creek. Still love that show, but a few odd (and icky??) bits to that last episode!

Tomorrow we are in month two, I don’t know what to say about that!!

(2) I have started to worry about everyone I have ever known, and the people I don’t have on social media especially (and if I do have you on social media, no pressure but it be great if you posted literally anything once in a while so I know you are ok, or ok enough to type anyway). Some of my messages, especially to people I haven’t talked to in ages, must sound very weird, but I am really just saying hiiiiii and also please be ok.

April 12th, 2020

Pandemic III: March 29 to April 4

A few updates from day 17 of social sadness: apocalypse swing set, I still long to live in the ravine, the cats saw a squirrel and were furious, Evan sleeps in his cat bed wrong. #ravinelife #catsofinstagram#squirrelsofinstagram @ Toronto, Ontario

(2)

Park report: after responses to my sad post last week indicated that perhaps not every park is closed, I did a circuit of all of the ones I frequent today and here’s what I came up with:

–the parkette near me has its play structure embargoed (I posted a photo earlier) but you can still stroll through it. It’s tiny and not very nice, so there’s little point without the play structure for anything but walking your dog, but there is that.
–the parkette slightly farther away does NOT have the play structure or basketball court embargoed. Since today is the first time I looked at it, I couldn’t tell if it had tape on it and someone ripped it down very thoroughly, or it just never did. That parkette doesn’t even have grass, just the two above-mentioned attractions. The basketball court is extremely popular and people play all day and most of the night, from basically now until snow. While I do not enjoy the constant bouncing and yelling sounds (and someone got shot on the court a few years back [they didn’t die] [I don’t know if was a basketball related dispute]) I know the kids here have basically nothing else to like it and it would be a huge loss. I did see some chainlink fencing sections propped up against a pole, possibly unrelated…or a plan for future embargoing.
–Those are my only regular parks in St James Town, so I hopped over to Rosedale and went to Craigleigh Gardens, which is a gated park that I expected to be locked up tight but it wasn’t! It was muddy but semi-busy! One of the gates in under construction, and it’s very hard to get in from that side–basically impossible if you have any mobility issues, are pushing a stroller or wearing nice shoes–but from the other end it’s business as usual. Lovely surprise.
–Then behind Craigleigh, I doubled back down (now that I know the name ht Peter Saunders I will show it off) Milkman’s Lane and it was open too! There is a gate there but it was wide open. However, by this point it was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon after a morning of rain and it was simply impossible to social distance appropriately on the narrow trail–it was crowded and people weren’t really being rude, but they also weren’t trying very hard. Sunshine is exciting, I get it. But also I turned around after about 200 m because eek!!

And that is the report on some parks I know–encouraging! And it’s really spring! Also people need to give each other way more space out there!

Day 18, disease event: weekend update: did not walk to lake due to rain and fear of no bathrooms–took several shorter walks, very pleasant, as mentioned previously. Documentary Dear Mr. Watterson very light on information on actual creator of Calvin and Hobbes Bill Watterson. Turns out he is a recluse, does not want to be subject of film, so instead film is about how people like C&H a lot, which, while commendable, is an emotion I feel myself so do not need explained to me. THEN it turned out that Mark Sampson, the original suggester of the film, actually knows a lot about Watterson, so he just told me stuff, and I did wind up learning a lot, though not from expected source. One fun fact is that Watterson stopped writing C&H when he was 38. Stopped. So wow.

If you are anticipating a tough day (or even if you aren’t) maybe you would like to share your favourite Calvin and Hobbes strip with me and we could make a thread of the best ones to cheer people up? Here is mine, which I clipped when it originally ran in the Hamilton Spectator back in my childhood and I have loved ever since. “A lot of great artists were insane.” https://calvin-and-hobbes-comic-strips.blogspot.com/2011/11/calvin-asks-dad-about-old-black-and.html?fbclid=IwAR3SS2E8NJJgcDm2izNf_Xer-rxxH3OLDdX7Wjs7GAgr5P_jq8LqBaqhEcw

(2) Notes from a lunchtime walk to go yell Happy birthday! at my mom on her balcony:
–I had a brief flash of fear that I was not social-distancing appropriately with a parked car until I remembered we are not being asked to do that yet
–I stepped into the road to give someone more space and he appreciatively tipped his ballcap at me
–I saw some pigeons and remembered the following incident from the weekend: Mark and I were cutting through the previously mentioned tiny parkette and there was a woman there more than 6′ away, so I paid her no mind…and then I saw pigeons were gathering at her feet, more and more of them. “Do the pigeons…know that woman?” I started to say to Mark, but somehow my voice startled them and maybe 80-90 pigeons took wing at once and it made a pulse in the air you could feel and I actually screamed (not proud, but I’ve been indoors in silence so much) and the woman just watched me wryly as the pigeons wheeled around in a flock and eventually came back to her once we’d walked away. Later Mark taught me the word “murmuration” so at least I learned something but !! Also the woman eventually took out a big sack of birdseed and yes, the pigeons definitely did know her.
–my mom is dealing with spending her birthday alone in captivity with great equanimity but honestly I am not. She was born during WWII! She deserves a birthday hug!

(3) Something I’ve been doing lately after a long hiatus is sending out fiction submissions! I can’t explain exactly why I stopped–partly because it’s hard and I wasn’t happy with the work, actually that’s a pretty good explanation–but going back to doing it again after a couple years lends such a sense of promise to the every day. Even if nothing ever gets picked up, every time I check my email I wonder what. might. happen??? and that is exciting. And we need all the excitement we can get around here. Earlier Alice went in a box that I had thought previously too small for her and wow!!

Day 18 of the first global challenge we’ve faced together with the rest of the world: I’m sad about how harsh landlords–mine and others I’ve heard about–are being in the face of the “no evictions during pandemic” thing. There’s a lot of letters being sent to tenants that are basically, “We will find a way to evict you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but we’ll do it.” The banks aren’t doing this about the mortgage relief, are they? I think that might be because banks are regulated a lot more closely than landlords and/or because even if you are definitely going to be paying a mortgage for another 20 years, it’s relatively easy to move it to a competing bank, whereas it’s very hard to find another apartment. 

To be clear, I can pay my rent, now and as far as I know in the future (there’s a lot I don’t know about the future though!) This is just something I’m upset about as a general wrong.

On a lighter note, I dreamed last night that Mark and I had a couple Hallowe’en costume as carrot and celery, which was nice.

(2)

Hey, remember *places*? Like, you’d start out at home, and you’d think of somewhere else and then you’d just go there and be there, and other people would be there too? And then later you’d have a bunch of fun and conversations and maybe food and/or entertainment and decide it was time to go home, so you would–not because you were worried about anything, just having achieved the ends you set out.

Here are some places I used to like to go to, back I when I…went:
–the Berkeley Street Theatre
–Pizza Libretto (Danforth)
–my office (sorry, office, I didn’t know how great you were until my cats were my only coworkers)
–Skydome
–Danforth Music Hall
–my mom’s place (the actual inside of it, not just the sidewalk below)
–Regent Park pool
–my gym, which is actually in my building but is currently locked for the duration
–New Ho King (Chinese restaurant on Spadina)
–Ben McNally Books
–all my friends’ places. Remember when inviting someone to sit on your couch was just a normal nice thing and not maybe a death wish?
–cities that aren’t Toronto

I’m worried both that I never appreciated places enough and that even when Covid-19 goes away I will retain all this anxiety around leaving the house because my brain tends to be irrational that way–and leaving the house is the BEST!

(3) Something nice that happened today is that Saint James Town had the 7:30 cheer for front-line healthcare workers. I’ve been sad that we hadn’t had it before but perhaps I just missed it? It was great and loud and long–SJT is excellent at being rowdy–and scared my cats. Well done, neighbours. Well-done, healthcare workers, and thank you.

This is actually day 20 of my personal sequesterment–I realized my count got a little boggled this week, but my first home day was Friday March 13 so that’s where I’m counting from. Woke up feeling gross for no reason, but the sky is blue. Also Indu Arora shared the link to the virtual Wonderland roller coaster The Bat last night and it’s really fun–I don’t even like roller coasters but this is delightful! All the coasters at Wonderland have virtual versions if you dig that sort of thing… Thanks, Indu! https://www.youtube.com/watch…

Further to the park report from a couple days ago, Mark let me know this morning that you can now actually be fined for using a recreational space when you aren’t supposed to. Which is…grrr, I’m not sure it helps, people will just walk on the sidewalk and be sadder, but the law is the law. FYI.

(2) So it seems I have managed to mildly food poison myself or actually contract a stomach bug in these days of massive care and attention to non-communicability. This is not very bad (though not very good) in actual fact, but somewhat terrifying when you think about what it indicates. Also, I feel like garbage and all I can eat is toast. I I did go for a walk though, which was amazing.

Day 21. Wearing a proper blouse and cardigan but also jeans with holes in them, let’s not get too fancy. Very excited about the sunshine and tonight the final season of How to Get Away with Murder premieres so stay tuned for bonkers updates on both my attempts to watch network TV, which I don’t know how to do, and what actually happens on the show. 

Wondering if anyone knows the difference between the freelance food delivery services–Skip the Dishes versus Uber Eats versus Door Dash? I have always maintained I’m willing to go get my own food if the restaurant doesn’t have their own employees deliver, but I’m less willing now and places with employee delivery limits me to chains and I want to support local indies so…let’s try this. Is one service better than another? 

Of course, you will note that I’m still not fully un-food-poisoned and one does not need a delivery service to receive toast, but i have big plans for tomorrow, my friends. BIG PLANS!

(2) There’s just something about 3 weeks of forced isolation that makes me think I can definitely fix that weird story I wrote in 2005.

Day 22. I am not a meme person but sometimes, something really just embodies where you are at {Meme, which I can’t seem to copy was “One-man, all-nude production of Agamemnon fails to impress cats, appliances source Francesco Marciuliano Author]. Even though the all-Sampsonblum production of Waiting for Godot is currently shut down, this speaks to me. 

Was unable to stream How to Get Away with Murder last night and went to bed in despair, but then this morning it was available to me–of course, now I have to work (except for this update) but really looking forward to it tonight! 

Also I have noticed a trend on social media I can only call “sadness shaming.” I completely understand that I and other people like me have quite a bit of privilege and are lucky, but that doesn’t mean that a day can’t be hard and it isn’t good to get support and encouragement from your friends. I have certainly really appreciated that from you, dear Facebook Friends! So certainly, let’s give any $$ we can spare to organizations that are helping, and let’s personally support those who are vulnerable in our communities…but also, if you are just having a rough time or are lonely or feeling weird or your streaming service won’t work, I am HERE FOR IT. Tell me your woes, dear FB friends! I can’t fix anything, but I definitely care!

Eventful day 23 of what is I guess my new life now: our neighbour down the hall dropped by to play with the cats! This was our first sustained in the flesh interaction with a non-Sampsonblum person in…23 days! She stayed in the hall and we stayed in the apartment, so more than 6 feet, and the cats wandered between. I would have been quite hesitant to do this at all if I didn’t know her slightly from previous pet interactions when I used to let them in the hallway pre-pandemic (I’ve been keeping them in because I know that cats can’t transmit Covid, but others might not be and be scared). I wanted to be generous and let her play with them since the cats have been a real help in this weird time and she’s a sweet person, but it ended up being a real joy for me to chat with her through the open door. A mitzvah all around! 

We also went to get pet food because I believed the store would close down in the new wave non-essential closures–this turned out to be incorrect, but we now have SO MUCH cat food, ready to wait out whatever comes. I really felt my privilege in having the means to buy cat food in bulk and carry it home over a kilometre (the means to do the latter being Mark Sampson, as he carried 75% of everything and was loth to give me anything to carry as I’m already such a slow walker with nothing).

Other day 23 highlights include cleaning the bathroom with both bleach and vinegar and feeling an inkling it wasn’t quite right, so I texted my friends wondering if the bathroom might explode (what would you do?) and Frédérique Delaprée kindly informed me that I was in danger of making chlorine gas and should ventilate the room. Which I of course did and then had to inform my husband that I had maybe created a WWI chemical agent in our bathroom so he shouldn’t go in there for a bit. It was another one of those “is this how you pictured marriage?” conversations.

Also last night we finally ordered food for delivery for the first time in the pandemic (Sher E Punjab Restaurant via Skip the Dishes) and it was great–so nice to have a big, nice meal neither of us cooked. The delivery came really fast, which was nice but made me nervous–I hope lots of people are ordering food out there. It was a bit expensive compared to our usual Friday night, but there was the opportunity to tip the restaurant as well as the delivery person, which seemed important to do since they are taking the risk of staying open, plus we got two amazing meals out of it.

These Facebook messages just get longer and longer about less and less, don’t they?

April 9th, 2020

Pandemic Diary II: March 21-28

Day 9 of the Great Loneliness and the Sampsonblums have left Saint James Town. It was amazing! We booked a car share for @neverlizzy ‘s birthday party, now of course wisely cancelled, but we hung onto the car booking and drove around looking for some different things to look at and now I feel so much better. Happy birthday Liz—we celebrate you from afar and someday from a close (shots from North Gwillimbury and Beaverton, and yes we disinfected the car when we got in and when we got out, brought a picnic, talked to no one, etc., etc) #leavingtown #adventure #anywherebuthere

Day 10 of external monologue (ht Anne-Michelle Tessier): just brought my lunch from the kitchen to my desk, forgot a fork, not going back.

This is from yesterday:

Mark Sampson (making dinner): So Kenny Rogers died.
RR (washing dishes): Oh no–of what?
MS: Old age. Nothing to do with Covid-19.
RR: How old?
MS: 81, I think.
RR: Well, ok. I wish he’d been older.
(long, long silence)
RR: I think we should each prepare three topics to discuss at dinner.
MS: What? Really?
RR: I’m worried I already used up all my organic conversation earlier in the day.
MS: Um…
RR: You can make the death of Kenny Loggins one of your things, if you want.
MS: It was Kenny Rogers.
RR: Oh.
MS: …
RR: Well, how is Kenny Loggins then?
MS: I don’t know, I’m not on top of that.
RR: …
MS: Why don’t you google it?
RR (googles, triumphant) Still alive!
MS: Hooray!
RR: Oh, man, remember “Return to Pooh Corner”?
MS: No.
RR: It was a good song. Oh, and “Danger Zone.”
MS: I remember “Danger Zone.”
RR: And of course the real classic…
MS: Which is what? I don’t remember?
RR: I think you will… (clicks on the song, turns up phone speakers)
MS (listens intently) Footloose!!!
(All humans dance, Alice flattens her ears back)
RR: This was my finest malapropism ever!

(we wound up watching Brooklyn 99 over dinner)

Day 11 of The Isolation and we have entered The Noisy Period, as my building is testing the fire alarm all day today, Wednesday and Friday because they are monsters (Mark Sampson suggested it’s because they want us to be safe from fire, but I yelled at him until he agreed that it’s because they are monsters). This has only been going on for 30 minutes and I’ve already taped a pillow over the speaker, which is helping way less than you’d expect.

I’m terrible with loud noises and this is probably not going to go well. Expect rage around midday and despair ~2pm (all times approximate).

In non-noisy news, we gave up on dinner table conversation last night and just started performing Waiting for Godot, passing the book back and forth as we ate. I am Estragon.

Day 12 of My Yoga Pants Life: Ben Rosenblum taught my mother to Skype and it is such a gift. Life keeps moving. We broke a glass at Brandon McFarlane and Hilary June Hart‘s video cocktail party last week (wild night) and elder cat has gotten very good at finding shards of broken glass that escaped cleanup and bringing them to my attention. I am tired all the time despite doing less than I have ever done, day to day, in my adult life. Also realizing if I can’t catch up on the New Yorker now, I never will. Sadness.

(2)

and Mark Sampson eat lunch together.

MS: Do you want an apple or a pear?
RR: Pear, please.
MS (goes to fridge, takes out one apple and one pear, washes and dries both, comes back to table, hands RR the apple, takes a bite of the pear)
RR: …
MS: Oh, sorry, this is for you. (hands RR the pear, minus one bite)
RR: Marriage. (resignedly starts to eat pear) I should get going if I want to take a walk and get some stuff done before my meeting at 2.
MS: Ah. And what time is your meeting?
RR: …
MS: Did you say?
RR: …
MS: Is it at 2?
RR: Sometimes I wish we had a court stenographer.
MS: That just came with the marriage?
RR: Tell me you’ve never wished that.
MS: Of course!
RR: The dialogue literally went “…my meeting at 2. What time is your meeting?”
MS: It was the “at 2” part that I missed.
RR: But HOW?
MS: I don’t know. I really wish I did, but I don’t.

(3) The upstairs singers are back–or are they? This is all suspiciously on-key! Sounds great, ceiling friends–keep it up!

(4) I know I’ve already posted 1000 times today but: Presto is letting folks cancel their annual passes until Friday with no penalty. I love having an annual pass because I’m such a heavy TTC user that it’s worth the money and allows me to dodge 99% of the drama that Presto has brought to the system, but I basically wasted $100 in March because I stopped going places after the first 11 days so, argh, I cancelled. Hoping I can reinstate in May. FYI to others in my situation who may not have seen the message!

Day 13 of being very sad and worried all the time. What are you all doing with your time in isolation, I wonder? I talk mainly about single little moments but here is where the bulk of my pandemic time is actually going–what about you?

1) My job, which is very portable, so more or less from 9 to 5 daily I sit at my desk and try to get things done. Focus and internet connection speed are not what they were at the office, but thank goodness this is not a super-busy time.

2) Cooking: I had all these projects I thought I’d do “if I had the time” and I’ve basically done none of them…except cooking projects. I made enchiladas where you soak the beans and then cook the beans and then make the enchiladas–two days; I made bread–four days; I made a potato cake and risotto… We’re trying to be really careful with groceries and not buy too much, so I tell myself I’m helping by stretching food to the max.

3) I repotted some plants and did some US tax docs at the very beginning of the period, before my resolve went to hell.

4) Talking to everyone! The best thing about this isolation is that I actually talk to my friends every day and that is glorious. Man there is a lot of software available if you want to talk to people virtually–so far using Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Whatsapp, Signal, email, iMessage, Mattermost, Zoom, BlueJeans, Skype, FaceTime, HouseParty, and the actual phone, but hey, if you’d like to talk to me and only want to do it using YOUR special software, I will download it–hmu!

5) Marriage: I think Mark will be relieved when he’s not the only human I see in a day, but so far we aren’t driving each other TOO crazy. But I do have a lot attention to really focus on him. The other day he had a mystery scratch on his stomach and i pondered that for ages. Ages!

6) Yeah, I’m still writing a novel…kinda. I’m also reading books and magazines, but very slowly. It’s so hard to concentrate, especially when I genuinely have to concentrate on work for much of the day. I do get things done, a tiny bit, ish. Even TV is a challenge.

7) Going for walks: I live in one of the highest population density areas in Canada, so this is challenging, but I do try to get out every day and walk gingerly around people for half an hour or so. It’s good to see the sky. Sometimes I walk to my mom’s place and wave at her!

8) Online workouts–some are fun, some are too hard, none of them are really suited to being done in the space I have, but I try!

9) Picking up my cats and cuddling them until they bite. No explanation needed.

Day 14 of the most unusual times. I went to a park last night since I heard they are closing. People seemed to mainly keep to themselves and I walked on the mud a few times to avoid others on the path, but then a little dog came running up to me. It was very cute and I like dogs, plus I know they can’t transmit Covid since I researched it for my cats, but I waved him off out of standard social-distancing instincts. Then a little girl, about 5, came up behind him and said, “Don’t worry, he’s friendly,” and seemed ready to engage with me and I just–fled. Poor kid, I didn’t know what to do if she didn’t know not to come near me. “I like dogs too, thank you,” I yelled over my shoulder as I ran away.

So I totally get why they are closing the parks for the greater good, but it’s a big blow. The virus times are making me think a lot about how I count on a lot of common resources in the community, and when the going gets tough, those go away, and we are basically left with what is our own. I’ve made certain decisions in my life with an idea that my own personal space and possessions will be limited but I will be able to share and enjoy the whole vast city–libraries, parks, museums, concerts, community centres. Restaurants, bars, movie theatres, etc. I mean, I know no one has access to these things and everyone is struggling, but I just…really wish I had a yard. I was very sad in the park yesterday, thinking spring is going to come and I don’t know when I’ll get to walk on grass.

And I know I have so many friends who would invite me to their yards if they could but they can’t, just like I have been making all this food and wishing I could share it but it isn’t safe, and all these basic kind human instincts aren’t working right now. I’m just finding the Covid-19 period sort of…neoliberal, in some ways. This is the first time I’ve cried in this whole period, about the dumb grass, and I get that I’m very lucky, but telling myself I’m lucky not to be in serious trouble is really not holding much water today.

Day 15 of the feline life. I have the afternoon off today, had intended to hang out with my mom and/or get a massage. Instead i will be vacationing in my living room. Cats got a new cardboard box yesterday and are content. Mark has installed Canopy on the Apple TV so we can watch a documentary on the guy who created Calvin and Hobbes–we had a short fight about what his name is and I’m not going to google so I can continue to be right about everything in my mind, but that guy–tonight. I am listening to The Cars a lot, ever since David Frum tweeted a video of his daughter dancing to them. Sort of cheering. Very excited for virtual lunch with coworkers!

Car share is suspended, parks are closed, socializing forbidden, so this weekend we walk to the lake. And when we get there…sit on the sidewalk to eat our sandwiches, and then look for a place to pee, I guess. And then walk home. This is honestly the BEST I can come up with. Do you folks have plans?

Does anyone remember a Joe Ollmann comic that begins, “I’m wandering in the cemetery again, drunk as a lord”? It has black swans in it and I kept the clipping for probably 20 years but it’s lost now and I miss it. Anyway, there’s no parks now, so we wander in the cemetery now (sober) and it’s pretty dark, but interesting. Day 16 of whatever period this is. #cartoon #cemetary #darktimes @ Toronto, Ontario

April 8th, 2020

Pandemic Facebook Diary: first week

I haven’t been blogging during the pandemic so far, or rather I have but on facebook. The reason is pretty obvious, in that although Facebook is no longer exactly the zeitgeist, people are still looking at it pretty often and fairly responsive on there, and I am so very lonely during this period it helps immeasurably to have these FB dialogues going through the day. But it is also nice to have things neatly put together in one spot, so I’ve put all my main FB diary posts (not the links and photos, and regrettably I can’t think of a way to capture all the interesting comments from folks, or my own comment updates) here for my own reference and anyone else who cares (if anyone). Here you go–I didn’t start counting the days until a few days in but the first day was, of course, Friday the 13th… (this was originally going to be the first month, but it was so many words I just did a week–the other three to come, I guess)

March 13: Is probably going to have to go to work on Monday and, while I’m a bit envious of those who get to enact their social distancing properly, at home, I’m glad they are doing it because it makes it safer for those who can’t. Staying at home is ideal, but a subway car just for me would be second-best, I think…

March 14: Grocery store report: Freshco was quite civilized, though crowded, compared to the No Frills madhouse yesterday. I gave up quickly at No Frills because I wasn’t feeling great yesterday and had foolishly thought I could “pop out for a few things” but it was a terrifying zoo with many empty shelves. Today I felt better and Freshco had fewer people and a lot more food. In both places everyone was polite, but yesterday the veneer felt quite thin.

A few observations:
–the cheapest brand of everything seems to be sold out or nearly so. I would normally buy those things in most cases, but I can afford an extra buck or two, and I realize others can’t. Spare a thought for folks on super-tight budgets in these panic shopping days!
–a lot of vegetarian staples seemed to be sold out–I couldn’t find veggie broth and beans were in short supply. I think this actually depends on your neighbourhood, because I’ve heard from others that in other places there’s no meat, whereas Freshco had plenty, so maybe it’s possible to shop around and find stuff?
–a lot of shelf-stable things are just gone–no pasta, no oatmeal–but there’s plenty of fresh fruit and veggies wherever you go, which seems weird. Immune-boosting powers of fresh produce, anyone?

I hope you are all well and well-fed. My household is not the healthiest (we’re FINE but not socializing) but if you find yourself in a serious bind, please reach out–if there’s a way I can help, I will certainly try!

March 15: First weekend of distancing dubious highlights: got groceries without incident, watched Mark Maron standup special, brushed cat, worked on US tax doc, stood on sidewalk under my mom’s apartment and waved at her, texted a lot with friends, slowly driving Mark Sampson insane. Actually not that slowly, since it’s been three days. I’m not really meant for this indoor life, but I want to be respectful of other people’s health needs, which means leaving them alone.

Also I’m going to work tomorrow, where I guess I can distance myself from others in my office?? You know, after my one-hour commute on TTC.

The real bright note here is that I had to brush the cats because they are shedding like crazy because their tiny bodies know spring is coming and they are getting READY. Me too. [Note: it developed in the comments that I didn’t have to go to work the next day or at all in March, as it turns out]

March 17: My parents are very reserved, quiet people. When I was born, they lived in a crumbling house on the outskirts of a tiny town (Woodburn, ON!) and would have been happy living in an isolated splendor of three in their weird house all the time…until I learned to walk and my mom noticed if she set me down in the grocery store, I would run away. I would run until I found another kid and then…I would kiss that kid. They realized I was lonely and put me in playschool and I have been able to avoid bothering anyone at the supermarket ever since.

THIS STORY SEEMS RELEVANT AT THIS TIME.

(2) My email today contained Covid-19 preparedness notes from A&W, SickKids, my city councilor, DavidsTea, CIBC, EnterpriseCarShare, and for some reason SmartSheet, which is entirely virtual. The big question is why doesn’t anyone use character spaces anymore??

March 18: Finally found a single, small, $11 bottle of hand sanitizer at a corner shop…just in time for the building to shut off our water. How is your incarceration going?

(2) Update from day 6 of home incarceration: with both of us working from home, the cats have been somewhat non-plussed, but excited to try napping in the rooms where the computers are during the day. They aren’t allowed to do this when we aren’t here due to tendency to nibble on wires. Today, with the water turned off, we have filled the bathtub as an emergency reserve and Evan (elder cat) displayed an alarming inclination to death by unsupervised drowning, so the bathroom door is now shut, leading to feline despair.

In human news, I have made enchiladas and am halfway through the four-day process of making bread, Mark started listing all his flaws this morning for no reason but is actually still good company after 120 uninterrupted hours, and with the gym shut I’ve gone back to my 17-year-old pilates DVD (remember, Jaime Murdoch??) which is still pretty good.

Later I may do my nails, one of those things I normally don’t have time/patience for, and now I have SO MUCH. I feel this period and attendant micro-updates is going to cost me a lot of FB friends.

March 19: Is on day 7 of this indoor life. Also day 4017 of her shared life with Mark Sampson–our first date was 11 years ago today (the above figure includes leap years). One of my favourite questions to ask Mark is, is this how you thought the relationship would go? Presumably, most boring happy couples imagine they are on a grand adventure and we are certainly no exception, but I suppose the important thing is, whether we are crawling on the floor looking for a shard of chipped tooth or trying to jam a cat into a backpack or meeting the Scallop Queen in Digby, we find it interesting.

Mark, thank you for being so interesting. I do not want to stay trapped in the apartment with you anymore and am seriously considering spending a couple nights in the ravine just for the change, but that is not your fault. You are the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m just really sorry about the past few days. I hope when Covid-19 is all over you still want to be married to me. Maybe you could come live in the ravine with me?

(2) rarely eats lunch at home. I’m at work 5 days at week and on weekends I’m often running around or if I’m at home I just grab something quick. With the new covidity, both humans have been at home for every midday meal all week and, with little better to do, we’ve made them somewhat nicer than normal and talked over them. For the first time in their tiny lives, the cats have noticed the presence of a third meal, when since their kittenhood they have been fed only two, morning and evening. And they are FURIOUS.

March 20: Day 8 of severe anti-sociability. Between the YouTube workouts that are too hard for me and the constant barrage of reassuring emails from Galen Westen, I am very sorrowful. Also it may be raining, which means I can’t even go for a walk, which was my ONE THING. Cats persist in embarrassing me on video calls. Starting to entertain fantasies of…going to work! It feels stupid to complain when I am safe and relatively healthy but also is there a better place for stupid complaining than Facebook among friends? Believe me, if you would like to bring me your trivial (or not) concerns, I am here for them, and you. By which I mean far from you, but emotionally here. I would also completely understand if now is the time you feel you need to mute/unfriend. I would mute myself if I could.

March 4th, 2020

18 years/ #TransitFeelings

March 4, 2020 is my 18 year anniversary in Toronto–next year this city will be tied with my hometown for the place I’ve lived the longest. When I think about the full duration of my time in Toronto, something to centre this blog post around, what comes to mind is the TTC–specifically, buses. From March 4, 2002 to now, almost everything about my life has changed: where I live, what I do, who I now, how I feel, even how I look. But my very intense, constant relationship with the TTC endures.

Of course, my vehemence about transit is a lifelong trait. When I lived in Montreal, I was largely a pedestrian, but I had STCUM thoughts, even when I was just on the metro occasionally, and the summer when I had to take the 80 bus every day for work, those thoughts rose to a passion. When I lived in Hamilton, I was really in a little rural village, and almost never able to access HSR. Instead, my #TransitFeelings were centred on the school bus that I took every day from kindergarten until the end of grade 13 (we were a one-car family at that time, and also I failed my driving exam a number of times). In fact, the very first “publication” of my writing was an essay I wrote about my school bus in grade nine, which won a prize in the school literary contest and was published in the festival booklet. FAME!

Actually, now that I think about it, I took a van that drove kids to and from my nursery school (can you imagine if such a thing existed in Toronto??) and once I went an absolute sobbing meltdown because they altered the usual route without warning.

So I guess I care a lot about transit and have had rather a long (38 years??) of daily experience with it–it’s a real chicken-and-egg situation.

Anyway, this post is supposed to be about me and the TTC, not all that other stuff, which is really just background. I thought to celebrate this anniversary I could rank all my favourite buses in the city, but it’s still really hard to play favourites–buses do different things for me in different times and places, and obviously evoke different #TransitFeelings (is this hashtag going to catch on? I so want it to). So here are just some bus routes I’ve spent a lot of time on and thought a lot about. I rarely ride the streetcar and apparently have almost no feelings about it at all–sorry!

25 Don Mills–One of my first Toronto buses, a no-nonsense bus that zips north and is always intensely crowded. The Duff bus of the east. Often you can’t even hold your book far enough from your face to read it, or at least this was the case back in the day, which was why I didn’t like it, but the 25 generally did what it was supposed to do–even during 2003 blackout, it got me home at my usual time, while most people I know were stuck or walking for hours. I used to take it in the pre-dawn and there would often be an elderly Asian woman on it giving herself an intense facial massages. I must have accumulated hours watching that woman. No idea what her deal was.

122 Graydon Hall–I don’t know what or where Graydon Hall is, but the 122 is the bus to the old Harlequin offices, before they moved downtown, and my first busable job in the city. I met many people I’m still friends with on that bus or at the stop, because there certainly was time to kill there. Simply didn’t come when it rained. There’s an enormous hill on York Mills that the bus could not easily surmount in icy weather–it was a strange sensation to look up from my book and feel this enormous vehicle straining and wallowing, but not going anywhere.

54 and 54A Lawrence East–two very different buses–interchangable in the short haul, but the latter will take you to the eastern edge of the city, where Scarborough meets the lake (and Pickering) in a long, arduous slog that takes forever. It’s just city-city-city for so long, and then you go over a rise and see this wall of blue looming up in the distance, and that’s Lake Ontario. There is also a 54E (E buses are Express), which I have never managed to take–I’ve never managed to take any E bus, in 18 years. A 54 driver asked me out once as we drove along. It was awkward.

34A and 34C Eglinton East–a nice, frequent bus line, swift and true. In one of their meaner stunts, the TTC actually switched the destinations of the 34A and 34C–the C used to be the straight shot from Eglinton East to Kennedy, and the A didn’t go all the way, and then at some point in the last few years they swapped. I was VERY surprised the first time that happened while I was on the bus. I lived on Eglinton for years and one summer during a heatwave I spent the evening on a 34C just for the air-conditioning, riding back and forth, reading my book. I imagine these buses will be obviated by the new Eglinton Light Rail if it ever comes online, and I’ll be sorry to see them go.

900 Airport Rocket–I swear this used to be numbered something else, but ok. I have no interest in the UPExpress because I find it confusing and it costs more–I just leave early and take the Rocket if it’s running. People on this bus tend to be VERY anxious, but it’s also an exciting bus and sometimes it has one of those jokey drivers who tell you the cruising height and to return your tray tables to the upright position. I’ve gone all over the world starting from the Airport Rocket–Japan, England, Costa Rica. It’s a good first leg of a journey. It’s also a rare bus that goes on the highway–it feels zoomy.

52 Lawrence West–I was working shifts while I was taking this bus and it was before bus-tracker apps (which are all lies anyway) and a lot of things went wrong. I didn’t last in that role long enough to figure out if it was my fault or the route or just that time of day on the TTC in general. I remember standing outside shaking in the cold and the bus just didn’t come and watching the sun rise pink and orange.

32 Eglinton West–The bus I took when I was teaching, probably the most exhausting job I’ve ever had. The 32 Eg doesn’t go to the airport but you can see the airport from it–that’s how far west it goes/I went, and in rush hour coming home, it took forever. I can sleep easily and happily on buses, and often do if I know I have a long way to go, but once I woke up on the 32 to some of my students sitting behind me whispering to each other “Is she sleeping?”

99 Arrow Rd–This is something of an artificial bus, and I took it for artificial reasons–all the others on this list were part of my life for a while because they took me to work or school or to visit someone I like, but I rode the 99 purely as a transit tourist. And the 99 doesn’t exist because there is demand from riders but as a service to TTC drivers, getting them to and from the main bus garage near Jane and Finch. There used to be a note on all TTC maps that “all buses connect to the subway line, except route 99” and wondered what the deal was–what was so special about route 99? So I spent an afternoon riding round and round and found out about the garage. Not really special, but I wrote a short story as if it was. The TTC featured in my first two books a lot–the most recent wasn’t set here and people mainly got around in cars, which was weird for me.

5 Avenue Road–This was one of my routes to University of Toronto during grad school. It was the most direct route but one I could only take if I had the luxury of time, because it didn’t come very often–it was faster to take the subway and then walk. It was a luxury route overall because it went through a ritzy neighbourhood and was never very crowded (I don’t think rich people take the bus a lot). I loved looking at the fancy houses, especially in the evenings all lit up. The holiday season on the 5 was the prettiest.

17 Birchmount–My longest and most intense bus relationship. Everything has happened on this bus–fights; a dog in a wheelchair (like a wheelchair designed for a dog!); tears (never mine, I don’t think); a person with a tattoo of a rabbit wearing sunglasses with the word YOLO spelling out using the the lenses of the sunglasses as the Os; a child named Rebecca who was misbehaving and got yelled at; every kind of disturbing behaviour (I think there’s a drug treatment facility a bit north of my stop); a couple I know distantly met on that bus, fell in love, and later won a free wedding on radio station with that story; the only time I’ve encountered someone in the wild reading my work; people yelling into their cellphones about custody battles and one time, describing a knife fight at the Future Shop (remember Future Shop?). I’ve walked most of this route in a rage and the burning sun when it didn’t come, been late for almost everything I attend regularly at least once because of the 17. I’ve taken this bus carrying a cake, a raspberry bush, an empty cardboard box, a shovel, sacks of books. I’ve been on this bus when it’s broken down, stalled, hit another bus. I have almost vomited on this bus several times but never actually vomited on it. The schedule is in constant disarray, they pulled out all the stop poles and demolished the shelters, but the 17ers know and respect each other. I’ve been seeing the same people so regularly on the bus for so long, sometimes I’ll see one out in the world, in a store or restaurant, and be halfway to saying hi before I realize I don’t know them.

February 19th, 2020

Family Day

Every since Dalton McGuinty brought a February holiday to Ontario in 2008 and called in Family Day, I’ve been uncomfortable with it. No one in the past twelve years has listened sympathetically to my discomfort–indeed, some folks seem really irritated and upset that I’m critical of this mid-February holiday–so here we are. Blogs are for working out the weird thoughts.

When I say I don’t like Family Day and people tease me it usually takes the form of 1) but don’t you want a day off work? <b>Rebuttal</b>: Sure, yes, but whether I spend it with my family or not is no one’s business, and yes, as the re-rebuttal would suggest, I can ignore the name, but the name exists–why not just call it civic holiday? The name is there for a reason. What’s the reason? I think I know, and I don’t like it.

2) But don’t you like your family? <b>Rebuttal</b>: Sure, yes, they’re lovely, in-laws too, and I’m happy to spend the day with them, in mid-February or any other time, but that is not the government’s business. Also many people would not or cannot do this, and although, again, the name of the day is not law, it does imply some are doing it right, or some HAVE the right things, and others do not. Aside from “I see you” social media posts, what are we doing for those people? Why not just leave them alone in the first place and not keep instituting holidays to celebrate what many lack? Again, I think I know why, and I don’t like it.

Family is the way our current society moves wealth through time. Fight me. Seriously, prove me wrong, because I would love that. Inherited wealth=feudalism, but it’s also capitalism somehow, unfortunately. And the focus, the neverending, condescending focus on familial love, familial care, at the expense of civic love, civic care (and holidays) leaves out anyone who is not in your bloodline–wealth and care is not necessarily shared in community, it is not shared with people who are a little bit further away from us culturally, whose experiences are harder or different.

Despite the ideas about meritocracy and working our way up, which does happen sometimes, of course, a lot in our lives is determined by what our families can give us–money, of course, stability, the promise of a soft landing if things go wrong, support, care.

There is so much baked into our society that privileges those with family or partners over those without. Marriage was invented as a way to consolidate land holdings. Again, this was in feudal times, but it still applies to Toronto real estate.

My opinion is, enjoy your day off in whatever way your want, with whomever you want. Don’t worry about me or Dalton McGuinty or anything if you don’t want to. But if you DO want to, maybe consider who our cultural norms encourage us to care about, and who they leave out. Are we always being pushed to care about parents, children, and partners, people we are already have a financial stake in, one way or another? Are we encouraged to care about community, strangers, people who look different from us or have different things or not enough things? Maybe not.

Let’s face it, if I go out and buy my nuclear family a “gift”, it’s still in my home, contributing to my net worth (and if it’s a book I can read it later and if it’s candy I can eat some). But if I give a gift to someone I don’t cohabitate with, then it’s really gone–there’s no benefit to me in that book or candy…at all! Family Day strongly encourages us to bolster people who will bolster us–people who live with us or interact with us or have a financial connection to us.

What if we had days in our society where we were encouraged to give to people in a way that forged new connections instead of burnishing the ones that are already valued? What if we actually got involved with the people in our community who need help instead of dropping some boxes of spaghetti in the donation bin? And what if that were the main point of the holiday, instead of an afterthought that you might get to but might forget if things get too hectic?

That would be a holiday that does not currently exist on our statutory calendar because that’s not the way our society functions. And I’m not saying I’m above it–I do love my family and we went bowling on Monday! But I’m saying there’s a reason I’ve been uncomfortable with Family Day for 12 years and I’ve worked on it and here it is.

Family Day is feudalism. This is possibly my most annoying opinion, according to people who talk to me regularly but if I could have shaken it off in 12 years, I swear I would have.

February 7th, 2020

Post-manifesto post

In my previous post, I laid down a lot of musts and shoulds about creating a realism that actually makes logical sense within itself, mainly for myself as I struggle with my new novel, but also for a lot of other writing I find frustrating and weird and that I want to be better. A few people seemed to agree with me on social media, and some to disagree, so ever self-conscious, I wanted to clarify: I don’t think it’s an inherent good to set up this kind of fictional reality–I think for the sort of writing a lot of us want to do, where there are characters that feel like people we could meet, living lives that feel real to us in places it seems like we could go, it is necessary to do this sort of world-building infrastructure to make the fictional world make sense to a reader. Just like I don’t think the *point* of a city is roads and sewers, but we need them if we’re going to have a city, if you have a character who owns a house the author must create a logical sense of where they got the money to buy the house, and a character is 45 and claims to have a storied romantic past, they can’t be shown in a scene being completely floored when a date tries to kiss them. The world just needs to make sense enough to keep the reader from crinkling her nose and going “wait what?” and looking up from the book in bafflement (the reader is me in this scenario but also, the reader is everyone). This is the same reason copyeditors and proofreaders strive to eliminate grammatical and spelling errors from books–there’s no moral good in a lack of spelling errors, but if those are errors are going to distract from the story you actually want to tell, better not to have them! ALSO there are loads of kinds of fiction in the world, which are not realism and don’t need these kind of “receipts and motivations” logics (but every book needs copyeditors and proofreaders!) Surrealism, magic realism, other fun dreamy landscapes where you don’t get as sunk into the practical details. And that’s fine. I didn’t say that in the previous post because I was mad (at me? yes–writing is hard) and also it’s my blog, I can do whatever I want. So yes, ahem. That’s my deal, explained. As you were.

February 3rd, 2020

Manifesto

• If the character has a thing–a home or a vehicle, a hat or a latte–it should make financial sense in the fictional world how they got that thing. The author need not provide receipts, but it needs to basically be in line with the reality that the author has created–the author needs to at least create the impression that a receipt exists. This applies mostly in present-day and historical fiction, but if it’s a starship or the planet Zerix and people pay in platinum droplets, how many platinum droplets would this character reasonably have? No more 9-bedroom villas for art teachers, no Ferraris for dog walkers.
• Think of the children. It is EPIDEMIC in entertainment both on page and on screen that children are like fold-up umbrellas, useful for being cute or telling a secret at a pivotal time, and then disappearing when adult people want to go on high-speed car chases or have sex. Where is the place the children could conceivably be at this time, if it isn’t with the main characters who are their caregivers–is it at school? Do they have a nanny? Is there ever any mention of their going anywhere at all, or do they simply collapse into dust when the author doesn’t need them as a plot element? As it is in real life, so must it be in fiction–if you don’t want to figure out where the children should be every hour of every day, you can’t have any children.
• How long do things take? It happens more often than you’d think, people get into a car to drive from Toronto to Niagara Falls or put a roast in the oven, or begin to do another thing that explicitly takes several hours, then they have an eight-sentence conversation, and now the thing is done. That is what time breaks are for, or some narrative bridge-building, or some gd thing, but it is very distracting to not have known time-markers obeyed.
• Where is everyone supposed to be during the day? As in the second bullet, but for characters who are adults, who either have jobs or are in school or have other responsibilities. If you must, make the character another god-damned writer (which honestly seems to be code for unemployed in books, given how much writing they seem to do–you’d think the person writing the book would know it doesn’t work like that) but at least they have a flexible schedule. No more bankers and lawyers running out of the house first thing on a Tuesday to do several hours of non-banking and non-lawyering. No more characters who do not seem to work at all ever but still maintain an income (see first bullet).
• If a person enters into a romantic relationship and they are not, say, a teenager, it’s weird to never mention what they understand and believe about romantic relationships. Not that that could have reached that stage of life with no notions about relationships, but there’d be some baggage from that too. Actually even if they are teenagers! A popular trope in fiction is that a couple falls in love when they are very young, then is somehow separated and then reunited after many years, with nothing that happened in the intervening years mattering to them in the slightest, if in fact the author even mentions that anything happened at all. Authors who cannot incorporate personal history into their characters are doomed to write all their novels about newborns. 
• Almost anything can happen, including extremely implausible things–in fact, most very implausible things HAVE happened, once, somewhere. But it there are circumstances that cause implausible things to happen and people notice them. If everyone in the book individually has a lot of inherited wealth and doesn’t have to work, and you are writing in the present day and not about 19th century aristocrats, that’s weird and characters who act like real people will notice and also feel weird about it. It’s not unheard of for a lone person of colour or queer person to hang out with a group that’s very demographically different from themselves, but there will likely be some uncomfortable moments, and some acknowledgement of the difference and the discomfort. People do leave each other at the alter sometimes in real life, but that is actually a very strange and hurtful thing to do, and friends and family will feel compelled to say something about it long after the veil has been put away. “It’s a thing that could happen,” is not a sufficient reason to put it in a book–it has to actually make sense with how the characters operate in the world and with each other.

Did I write this manifesto for other people or for myself??? YOU DECIDE!