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And the mornings are ferociously cold some of them, they abbreviate the first cigarette; back inside to make coffee and wait for it to thaw a bit before getting out and about. There's snow already on the low mountains surrounding town.
Found a good new series - so far (1 episode in); "Dark" - on Netflix, which I won't bother to describe here, only has a bit of that "Stranger Things" vibe. And reading (re?) Haruku Murakami "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle", which is excellent and after my taste at the moment; only while it all seems new I'm suspicious I've read it a long time ago; must have been because I find no reference to it on my blog...but the bit where he goes down the well (and I'm not there yet, so we'll see) - I remember that.
***
The liquor strike drags on and I'm spending far too much on oversized bottles of premium liquor. And today there are no buses; rumour has it that Balfour & Taghum still have a reasonable selection but I might be forced to skip my medication, which is not inspiring.
The chilis indoors might still be growing, they're certainly turning red, and raining resin and pollen and leaves and flowers all over the floor. I'll need to sweep and mop after all this is done, I want them off the windowsill, but I'm not giving up just yet.
The Laundry Machine - the one that charges your card, some "Sparkle Solutions" outfit out of Ontario, it's not been working all week. A part is on order. My card has nothing on it, and I'm overdue a fresh pair of shorts. But I can't do laundry...
SO I check their website, that promises an option to charge the card with a credit card online, only there's no link. Call customer service. They can't find the link either, and can offer no options, only to have somebody reach out to me on a business day.
This is inept.
***
Facebook, nothing on, but I saw a great little ad for a magic trick that I want and so I clicked on it to see how much it is...
$100. Nope. A hundred bucks for what amounts to a $1 made-in-china "Gimmick" and 100 pages of instructions is a little steep...
But it is a cool trick...I'll see if I can figure it out elsewhere...
***
And; perusing Reddit I came across this little gem:
Which I have to laugh at, I'm sure (well, not SURE) that it's not the same one I have my own horror story about a certain stalker who wouldn't take no for an answer and made my life a living hell for 7 long years. And to this day when I hear the name, no matter how cute the person wearing it, I still cringe...
The kids laughed. When my leave of abstinence is over I'm going to be a fury getting back in the saddle, but no more of this...
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Checking, today, the tomatoes, it's been a couple of weeks and since I've moved the chilis indoors there's been no real reason.
But the tomatoes, they're doing great, everything else, the Basil, Dill, dead dead dead, but the tomatoes, well, I'll get a full basket for dinner tonight.
And the chilis, since putting the grow light on them (underneath, no place to hang the light above); well, I think they're doing better, getting bigger, and I'm noticing more and more of the little green ones just starting out.
In an ideal world I'd have a full-on greenhouse, get this mastered, lights on 24/7, I mean, I could easily sell these for $5 a pepper. Free if you eat it in front of me. But there's other things on the go and I am kinda wishing they'd all fruit and be done with it...
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This, above, and it sat on the counter for a week before I even considered eating it.
1 Carolina Reaper (harvested as the plenteous bounty from 3 Carolina Reaper plants), approximately 1 inch long.
Supposedly the spiciest pepper on earth.
I have a few others, all a quarter of an inch or less, smaller than a large blueberry, and doubtless there are more hiding in the canopy of dying leaves, waiting on sunlight that will never come...
So I took it to work and shared it out, not certain if it would live up to it's hype, slice it very thinly and offer it to staff, the owner, who - disregarding my caution slices it even smaller and gives it a nibble...
And, yes. It's all that. Those videos of imbeciles trying to eat one whole on YouTube and then afterwards checking themselves in to the hospital, that's a hard yes. Even the sliver, the morsel, cutting it waters the eyes, turns up the heat, starts the heart a pounding, and - damn, how do I get these plants to produce more? I mean, there's a gold-mine here, no other hot chilli comes even close...
The sushi-chef, from Nepal, tries it, is of the same mind, but then is asking me "Where do I buy more???", and tells me that this was a thing in Nepal, and why not? They have the climate, here, all my loving has gotten me only this single chilli, if I had a greenhouse there could be more, maybe I need a grow-light - definitely I need a grow light, although I'm more than half-done nursing these mother-fucking plants but...
It is one-hell of a payoff...
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An unexpected Thanksgiving off, and I was greatly appreciative. The owners of the restaurant probably realized that holidays aren't worth the overtime, and they're right, and - bloody hell, I'm all in for the holidays.
So I planned to hit up the soup kitchen, which does a free Thanksgiving dinner that is (hugely) well attended, and then I thought better and took friend for dinner.
Here, there's no end of people here you can take for dinner. It's that sort of town.
And friend, well, I mean, I'm pretty tough to deal with, she's a longstanding ex, but she's always kept the sofa made up for me, always fed me, stopped stocking the Vodka (because that was an EXPENSE!!!), but - know who your friends are.
SO an overpriced dinner at the fanciest place in town, which - look at their menu - isn't that fancy, but they've done great with the decor.
***
Tuesday, my double, bloody hell, a midday rush (3:00 - 5:00), otherwise a slow spiritual suicide. The murder of innocent days.
***
Wednesday, supposedly off, but I get the text "... is sick" and as I had Thanksgiving off I can't argue the fact. Work. Dismal. After work, check the thrift shop (Positive Apparel) and find nothing, it's furniture equivalent, nada, then get groceries. Lots. Enough for a week. Hit "Dollarama" in a quest for cinnamon to quell the mould on the chilis and a 2" paint roller, find both (or close enough) - and a few other trifles that I didn't think to write down but found nonetheless. Success!
The Chilis? Glad you asked. One of the three has produced a 1 inch gonad that overnight turned red, as well as two smaller gonads that also turned red. So I will have some (?? How many is some? 3-4) of the spiciest peppers on earth, only I haven't tried them yet and need to bring them into work and have them thinly sliced and delivered for assay...
After that another trip, this time to the Coop, some more ephemeral supplies, and I run into B*****, in his special "walking uniform" which would mask as an exercise uniform if it weren't for...
And he paces me back to the building, he's in need of a cigarette, is restless, the divorce, not going so well (?? do they ever ??), the children, the ...
We're done the cigarettes when he takes the hint and fucks off, my place, it's a studio, it's not for entertaining, I spell it out...
I hate that it's that way, but - You know, not changing a lifetime of habit or preference for a random...and really, it's not just gender bias, if you saw my place you'd know it wasn't for entertaining.
***
Today, Thursday, still a couple sheets to the wind. Off to Creston, where I'd offered the choice to Thanksgiving friend (hotsprings, Creston) and the die was cast.
First, Gleaners. Nada. I've never seen so much shit I didn't want or need in my life. Or - wait - I have seen, every Friday volunteering at the thrift shop...
Maybe I could have broken down, bought a few canvases for restretching and art projects but - nope, nope, it's too overwhelming....and I have enough on my plate to keep me busy until the end of my life...
***
Then the Iode, lucky chance that it's open, but again Nada. From here to the bookstore - Kingfisher, a great old/collectable bookstore, only I have a list, a hundred books stacked by my computer, and they have nothing that's on my list.
I spend a little extra time, discover the basement, where "Science/Math" are grouped together and ... is misspelt, this gives me hope....I find a copy of Isaac Newton's "The Principia" in translation (Why? Because he wrote it in Latin, Dummy!!!!) this is my find of the day, My only find.
From here to lunch, friend has supplied her recommendation. It's a nondescript shit-hole on the intersection of the highway and the main street.
***
I fucking have to kill her. It's in a restaurant/gift shop, at the end of one of the busier streets, the intersection. The "Gift" portion of the shop comprises mostly just rocks/gems/minerals/new-age/greeting cards and CNC wood plaques epitomizing dumb-ass twee sentiments about home. there's just room enough for a half dozen tables.
The menu, dismal, we decide on a couple of burritos. I go and pay. With drinks (Diet Coke and H20) it comes to $50.00.
Wait. Wait. Wait for the food.
When it arrives it's as if you described the theory of a burrito to an alien; who understanding nothing of burritos, of earth, of what you mean by "beans" and "rice" and "fresh vegetables" and with what limited comprehension it has tries to make you a meal from home-grown off-world ingredients. I paid $50.00 for this. Every mouthful of disgust, and I have to eat it, the most expensive remorse or disgust you can buy; it's beyond appalling, the diet coke can't wash the retching out of my throat, and still I force myself. I'm glad to see my friend is finding it no more savoury than I but is forcing herself to "chow down" as well. For a side they've "lovingly" piled three fingers worth of tortilla crumbs (the bottom of the bag, clearly, not a whole chip amongst them), and the condiments comprise a small dish of "Pace" brand salsa and home-soured cream.
The most fucking disgusting meal of my life.
***
Still retching from the aftermath and the bile rising in my throat and not just a little bit annoyed at friend (I did suggest McDonalds, the poor-choice of fools but Michelin Starred next to that abomination), we make our way to the High street jewellers, look at his selection of used vintage watches (he has better, in the back room, but I haven't the budget after spending $50.00 on garbage and $70.00 on gas and so I resist the temptation...) and querying him find that he is able to repair old watches. This is good, I need a local watch guy, and I've grown tired of handing them off to the jewellers in town at $300.00 a pop only to find after 6-8 weeks they can't fix them...
From here to the next stop - Beacon bookstore, a vintage/used/curated bookstore right on the high street. And - again, an amazing selection of vintage/antique books, many great titles, and I never knew it was here...
Who would have guessed Creston would prove to have so much to my taste?
I mean, other than food...
This ends the day. The rest of it trying to get the flavour of the world's worst burrito out of my mouth, multiple rinses with soda, diet coke, vodka, just not doing it but an explosion earlier this afternoon might just have seen the last of it, god knows it tasted better...
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And, while on the phone eagerly recommending the children watch the untold tale of my life, and - while there was my childhood well documented by JK Rowling I lament the gap in my middle age and the daughter corrects me:
"You know, there was the Indiana Jones movies, Pa"
I think about it and she's right. I mean, no one wants to watch the countless hours I spend preparing for adventures in the Gym or at the Library or striding Mountain Tops, they only want the highlights...
And these movies, they cover it.