fully furnished

On Saturday afternoon I was IDed at the liquor store buying a bottle of wine.  ID laws have becoming ridiculously stringent in my province when liquor store owners feel compelled to check the ID of someone who passed the age of majority twenty years ago.  The shop owner tried to be charming about it, telling me I looked far younger.  So I impressed him by being unable to recall my own phone number, which he requested for the points program.  I stumbled over the first three numbers repeatedly, like a senior citizen overcome with dementia.

*

There is a Japanese Maple tree on my front lawn.  I admire its Japanese Canadian temperament, its confidence to do its own thing in the face of pressure from other trees on the street.  In late August while every other tree was shaking off its leaves as fast as possible, the Japanese Maple changed nothing about itself at all.  In early October, some of the leaves changed from deep purple to pink, but only some of them.  Certain branches changed, others did not.  Now it has decided to let go of some of the pink leaves, which have fluttered to the ground where they look like confetti.  Other branches have not changed since summer.  It is a strange, unpredictable tree, and I like it very much.


*

I am reading The Cellist of Sarajevo, which is a difficult read for a couple of reasons.  It does not fit within my limited frame of reference and experience (which needs expanding).  And it is sad, terribly sad.  There are times I read for immersion.  There are times like this I read to learn, and learning is sometimes an uncomfortable feeling.


*