These three new (late) posts are just fillers, really. I have four other posts I need to put up, I`m just waiting to be in the proper mindset to write them. I`m also busy focusing on my food blog. Well, hopefully the other posts will be up soon!
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In November I attended a craft fair in Loyola Campus` beautiful chapel. It truly was beautiful, with detailed wood work and sunlight coming in the tinted windows, the talented guitarist singing songs with alternating English, French and Spanish words, friendly staff and a delicious potluck hidden in the back kitchen. Unfortunately, almost everyone did poorly but I had a blast making exchanges with other crafters and sorting through the giant piles of free clothes from the Really Really Free Market happening on stage. I brought back sooo much cool clothes and fabric with me!
Considering that I signed up for a table the night before the fair and that I carried everything to and from the fair by myself, I believe I did well! All the displays except the wicker baskets and the black bust were made last-minute by me earlier in the year. In a last-minute situation once again, I kept the displays I had from my last craft fair in Ottawa and decorated them with my various jewelry and accessories. This time I had a new addition to the table: Cat-eared hats! I had wanted a cat-eared hat for a while now and came up with a simple pattern one night. I sewed these by hand with leftover fuzzy black fabric, and tagged them for the fair. I had only 4 for the fair, but they all disappeared by the end of it. Sewing hats and miscellaneous items is something I really want to get into this year, but I need to do research on good sewing techniques… and I need a sewing machine!
Here`s the bulk of the exchanges I made: Hand-dyed Indian fabric, doggy sock bones, a lovely selection of soap (including a big round Beer soap and a gun soap I couldnt`resist getting for Xavier as gifts!), some karite butter from Africa, lip balm and a bunch of beautiful art (small posters and fridge magnets) by Marie-Noelle Wyrn – I spent over half an hour at her table trying to decide which pieces of art I wanted from her – They were all so beautiful!
I also got two big posters from another really talented girl called Aimie. Her art mesmerized me. I`m not a fan of art museums and I`ve never been a fan of abstract art. I`ve never been huge on appreciating art in general I guess but these two girls made some beautiful art that reached out to me. It wasn`t just the strokes on the paper that were beautiful, it was the stories that went along with them that made them even mroe wonderful.
And how could I say no to these brain soaps? Sure, making lots of money at craft fairs is what everyone strives for, but I have a blast doing exchanges where money is irrelevent and where I end up with beautiful things to decorate my room and lovely-smelling stuff to wash myself with. I`m glad I didn`t do too bad, but I still didn`t do great. There were a lot of us jewelers, with others selling various paperworks, decorations, clothes, bowls and miscellaneous items. Most people at the craft fair didn`t do well, and a couple of them sadly didn`t really sell anything. There were very few people that came to the craft fair, and many of them would just zoom by and look at the tables from afar, from the corners of their eyes. How sad. I know one Asian girl did Very well selling jewelry – the gold chains with little vintage charms on them – It`s really not my style so I don`t do it even though I know it may sell well and I`m alright with that. It`s just not. my thing.
To conclude this, I have a favor to ask my fellow Montreal readers: If you know of any upcoming craft fairs, please let me know! I was very sad to not be able to locate any fairs for the month of December, the best month to sell crafts… I still regret it, but honestly, locating craft fairs is hard!
Unless you`re talking about the Metiers D`arts. While it was a truly wonderful experience strolling through the giant, 2-week-long craft venue for hours, getting inspired by many wonderful crafters and tasting all kinds of scrumptious winter treats, I simply can`t afford 3,000$+ to sell my crafts there. I could have tried exchanging jewelry, accessories and gemstones for stuff I really wanted (like soap, candles and cherry jam), but I thought of it too late and I still regret it! Now I have to wait until December to try again. I had fun getting back into my crafty stuff. It`s been a slow start, but I`m gathering lots of materials and coming up with new ideas for the year. I really hope my craftiness and advertisement skills evolve by then.
(This was also posted for my food blog UnReFiNeD)
Being poor and not wanting to support companies with bad food politics, I decided earlier this year to start sourcing most of my food from the pile of rejects. I`ve revealed my dumpster diving activities to you in the past and now I want to divulge what I`ve been up to and what I`ve found in Montreal`s waste land… Yogurt. Woah. And not just any kind of blah yogurt – Astro yogurt, Greek yogurt, organic yogurt, and cottage cheeeeese (for cheesecake, of course!).
So obviously, since the past few weeks of yogurt frenzy, I`ve gone off the vegan bandwagon and am back on the vegetarian one for now. It`s unbelievable how much yogurt I`ve found in Montreal`s dumpsters. Where exactly? Well, I can`t tell you THAT =P. Some of the yogurt I find hasn`t even passed its due date, while others are a couple of weeks past due date, but they all taste fine – I`ve eaten yogurt that was two Months past due date and they tasted fine, And I didn`t get sick =P. Since my recent love development with Greek yogurt I was more than happy to find all kinds of tasty flavors of them waiting to be given a second chance. Xavier himself is a big fan of yogurt so we have no trouble keeping the quantity down. Well, kinda. Actually, the yogurt`s been taking over the fridge… But then I thought of something – Frozen yogurt and sherberts! So I dedicated two entire days to making sherberts and frozen yogurts… A whole post on that to come soon on my food blog!
Here`s a load of treasure Xavier came back with one night. We needed bananas, well, we got èm! The organic lettuce, the spinach, the whole wheat pitas and the chives were the cream of the crop this time (and the loner onion since we had none left!). It`s so funny to think how Xavier reacted the first time I told him about my dumpster diving activities. He was tactful about it and eventually said he would even come with me one day, but he said he wouldn`t eat anything that we got. Now I`ve got him going on his own and eating to his heart`s delight! Muahahaha!
Along with his bounty was a Giant red bell pepper. It would have been perfect for turning into a stuffed pepper but the bottom was badly bruised. Upon cutting it open we noticed a bunch of interesting mold… It happens. But it`s not like the whole giant fruit (yes, fruit) was a loss.
We were able to save most of it, and what was saved was wonderfully fresh and great tasting. And to contrast the intriguing mold was this beautiful little thing growing inside.
Another little load retrieved from the dumpster. My other roommate thinks me peculiar for various reasons and often jokes around about my dumpster diving. He`s scared to eat my goods, but sometimes he does!
Besides my roommate`s condiments and milk and besides a few food gifts, almost everything in the fridge and freezer was dumpstered. Yogurt, bread, bagels, pies, yogurt, mayonnaise, greek salad, and a bunch of vegetables. (Don`t mind the nasty rust stains, the fridge has some serious issues…) I had to take a picture because it felt so good to have so much food in the fridge again! I remember when I first moved to Montreal, how I barely had anything and lived off of apple crisps for a while… Not that I`m complaining! Another thing that`s special about dumpster diving is that you can come across all kinds of things you normally wouldn`t buy, so you get to try new things (like mangosteens and pitaya!) and challenge yourself with new ways of using certain ingredients.
But not just the fridge, the cupboards too! It`s not all dumpstered stuff of course, but some of it is, like applesauce, peanut butter, flour, walnuts, dates, dried cranberries, crackers, organic soups and some canned goods – Most of these were retreived the same day as the mother of all treasure loads we god. Xavier and I have literally taken over the kitchen – The cupboards are All ours, and 3/4 of the fridge is ours. We spend most of our time in the kitchen but at least we clean up after ourselves efficiently too.
Of course, it`s not easy. I stress, to various degrees, every time I go dumpster diving, worried I`ll get caught. I`ve never gotten into real trouble before and a lot of employees that have caught me don`t mind, but still. With winter here, it`s unpleasant to go in search of food in the cold, and it`s especially unpleasant to go scouting, but the bright side to the cold is that it keeps the food from spoiling quickly. The ride back home is a sweaty one in the metro (underground bus), and once home I can`t just relax – I have to wash all of my little treasures, and then find space for them. I usually soak my produce in vinegar water and rebag my other foods in clean bags and containers, usually slicing and freezing most of the bread. Quite a lot of effort in the end but it`s alllll worth it. I`ve saved a lot of money dumpster diving and I`ve saved a lot of good food from being wasted. A LOT.
(This was posted for my food blog UnReFiNeD so it`s very food-oriented)
As many of you know, Wall Street’s occupy movement reached Montreal and, along with many other cities, set into action on October 15th of last year. I wasn’t sure how this was going to turn out but it gave me an opportunity to volunteer with Food Not Bombs-type organizations and to talk food politics with those at Square Victoria.
One the 14th I got together with a couple of other people and joined forces with a coop to dumpster dive and cook food for those involved with the movement. The next day, we biked in the freezing breeze to Square Victoria and began serving our food on a small table. I left shortly after and came back a week later, to find an amazing development: All the people and organizations that gathered, cooked, and served food joined forces to create the People’s Kitchen, a partially-enclosed area with cooking areas and Loads of food.
Excited, I put on some gloves and got to it! There was no real leader as the group of people working in the kitchen was never the same, which regularly complicated things. Wearing gloves had become a requirement but besides that almost anyone was allowed to volunteer in the kitchen. The tasks were: cut bread, prepare produce for dishes in mind, keep kitchen sanitary, cut bread, take care of dishes, serve food, cook food, stir slowly-heating soup for hours, cut bread, and take in and shelve donations. Did I mention cutting bread?
I loooved working in the kitchen, to the point where I once worked for a span of 11 hours in one day, and with barely any breaks! I spent 2-8 hours volunteering there when I went, usually starting in the afternoon until around closing time. When I was there, I lost track of time (and of the importance of staying hydrated…), and just went on and on – There was so much to do! Sometimes there was really not enough volunteers in the kitchen – At one time it was only me and another girl, both of us who were still kind of new to the kitchen, and her more than me, so I ended up taking over Everything, rushing between tasks to keep the kitchen going. I know I didn’t need to overwork myself, I was there freely giving free food, but I couldn’t help it. And it felt good. I had a purpose. Who knows what the kitchen would have looked like that afternoon if I hadn’t been there o.o. I guess people would have slowly made their way in to help themselves, which sometimes became a problem at night when the kitchen shut down. I think it silly that people were complaining that the kitchen shut down after 11pm (with bread and jam left out)… It was almost midnight! The kitchen can`t run 24hrs on a trinkle of tired and cold vonunteers! – Anyway. With time a sheet was run across after 11pm and between certain meal times to close it off more, and more people that had a better sense of what was happening would come by to make sure everything was alright.
And with time we started kitchen meetings to discuss problems (such as lack of space, troublesome activists, the homeless who took too much advantage of our kitchen, working in cold conditions, sanitary conditions, the inability to use big stoves and propane burners to cook food (ugh, what a Pain!!!), lack of volunteers, closing time and so on.
Dishes were quite the problem too. There was one older bearded man who was truly amazing because NO ONE wants to be in the dish pit, yet he was at it every day, scrubbing other`s dirty dishes in the cold, always ending up with frozen hands. He was usually frustrated too – I don`t blame him – Most people would just pile their dishes (that they had gotten at the People`s Kitchen with their free food) in the dish pit and leave it for some sucker to do. It wasn`t pleasant. Even I didn`t do my own dishes, but I think I only used 2 cups and a couple of plates and utensils the whole time I was there, plus I was always busy scurrying around in the kitchen… A big thank you to the dish pit regulars!
It was fun to get shouts of encouragement (and vice versa) from the coffee/tea tent infront of us, from the dishpit regulars, and from those receiving free food once in a while. It was fun coming in to see my favorite co-volunteers already there in the kitchen, doing their thing and chatting happily about whatever came to mind. It was fun to get sunlight once in a while (I swear it usually was just grey and cold and often rainy…), and it was fun to be treated to some special little desserts for our hard work once in a while. It was fun becoming a part of something big, something important, working together, learning, having fun… =)
As it got colder and colder I bundled up with lots of layers and my handmade kitty hat. The whole time I was there I never actually was the one to Make soups and whatnot on the propane burners (I never bothered to learn how to use them), but I did make some fancy tuna salad on crackers myself. I usually did major multi-tasking. Once in a while I’d bring home apples and oats to cook apple crisps for the People’s Kitchen, almost losing my baking pans in the process of retrieving them. I eventually invited Xavier to come volunteer with me and, although I know he’s not into this movement kind of thing, he came without hesitation, to help me and to cook. We had loads of fun, snacking on treats as we went along, grooving to music from the nearby drum circle (or keyboard. We once even had a choir come practice at Square Victoria!).
We usually served a mix of vegan and vegetarian dishes. Obviously we got a lot of donated ingredients and prepared food that had animal ingredients in them so we used those too. It got tricky to know what had what in it, and then to make sure everyone else in the kitchen knew – In a kitchen where the volunteers and the meals always changed! One time we had a man come in with a bunch of higher-quality hot dog sausages. He didn`t just donate them to us – He came in and took over the propane burners to cook them! I tried to keep a selection of raw fruits and vegan snacks always available on the table as I saw most of the other volunteers didn`t give a damn about the vegans at Square Victoria. At least we usually had various salads we`d make every day. The food we made was pretty healthy, but the desserts (besides things like baked cinnamon apples and fruit salads that we made) were donated by various people who bought or made them and their healthiness was a mixed bag. I got nibbles of all kinds of tasty neat things there!
The kitchen worked off of donations, and wow were we surprised with the amount of donations we got! Some people would bring food from their homes that they didn’t use. Others would buy what we needed (like peanut butter, oil, etc). Others, either from their homes or a little business they had running, would bring in food they made, the most coveted being hot food like soup, because it often got cold (and rainy) there, and we only had little propane burners to cook with. Sometimes people would bring over leftovers from meetings (think giant plates of appetizers and sandwhiches) and from the stores they worked at. One guy handed me a bunch of fresh bagels that were going to be thrown out of the bakery he worked at. Xavier and I were about to head out so we took a couple with us to eat when we got home. They were Berry infused bagels! Spread with cream cheese and berry jam, they were DIVINE! swear I still drool thinking about these. I still regret not asking the guy where they came from because they were just so good! I sometimes brought in my own dumpstered stuff for the kitchen, but these had to be labeled as such =P.
Near the end of October it started getting really cold. I was working on adrenaline and little reserves, in very cold conditions outside and with very little hydration. I eventually got sick, my sickness hitting its peak on Halloween night (booo!), and after then I didn’t go to the People’s Kitchen as much. Reasons being, I was out of town for a bit**,or I was preoccupied, and often I’d go there and the place was taken care of and they didn’t really need anyone at the time… bummer. I could have maybe squeezed myself in, but I never feel comfortable about doing that. I like to have something to do and to really be needed, not just standing around twidling my thumbs and getting “I don’t knows” to my “what can I do” question.
**I eventually went to Ottawa to do a couple of things, including check out Ottawa`s Occupy Montreal. While it was set in a beautiful big park, it dimmed in comparison to Montreal`s – The people were friendly, but a lot of them seemed to be there just to hang out with others and get drunk or do drugs. I asked if they had an information booth to inform passersbys of what they were doing but all I got pointed to was a small tent in the back that supposedly had some sheets of information. In my mind it lacked presence.
Back in Montreal, it felt strange to have various people come over to photograph or videotape us working in the kitchen – I wonder if I ended up anywhere more public. I once got interviewed by a woman who had questions about the kitchen and what my beliefs were. I discussed how the People`s Kitchen worked and shared my thoughts on all the food that we waste and all the land and imprisoned animals and effort that goes into making that food that gets wasted as well. I also talked about all the homeless and needy peopel who could be getting all this wasted food instead of the dumpsters – A lot of it is still good and safe to eat. Politics in general is something I`m really not strong in, but obviously food politics is where I shine more.
Occupy Montreal was eventually shut down November 25th or 26th, I forget. I wasn’t there but wish I had been. I hear some people tied themselves to the People`s Kitchen posts as a last resistance. It sure had been quite the experience. Square Victoria had become a tarped tent city full of music and chatty people, and full of curious people with others to inform them. I loved its feel. I met some really awesome people there, but I unfortunately lost contact with most of them. I still wish I had spent more time there (and not just the kitchen, but the rest of the square as well), but my social anxiety got in the way. Still, I participated quite a lot, I had a great time, and I learned all kinds of useful things. A really great experience.
Heya! Sorry about the lack of posts these days. My computer had stopped working; I didn’t really put much effort into fixing it, didn’t wantbto make post updates at the library, and was often really busy, but I will soon enough, hopefully. I moved out to a collective but will be moving back where I first started at the end of the month. J haven’t gone recently, but I did a lot of volunteer work at the People’s Kitchen – Occupy Montreal. I’m about to go to a Vipassana retreat – 10 days of silent meditation in Montebello and will be back on the 26th. I’m anxious about it but I’m sure it’ll be a heck of an experience.
If you were walking around downtown and saw a man holding a sign that said “Free Hugs”, would you hug him just for the sake of it? Would you think he was crazy? Would you tame your grief with the hug of a stranger? Would you shun him and pretend he didn’t exist? Would you wonder what the catch was? Would you possibly even get irritated?
*Free Hugs* Watch this moving video to see how the idea of a lonely depressed Australian man changed the lives and perspectives of many people.
I wanted to be part of it too, this campaign of random acts of kindness to strangers all over the world. I first came across it on the Montreal CouchSurfing group and thought it’d be a great event and a great challenge for me. Not only did I want to rekindle interaction between people in cities, and not only did I want to make someone’s day, I also desired a hug back…
I made myself a sign and headed out to meet the gang at 1:30pm, a beautiful warm sunny day, spending lots of time walking around at the Jean-Talon metro station, confused about what exit to go to, and bummed out about not seeing any other huggers around. I decided to go back home and double-check the post – Well darn, I actually went to the wrong metro station! So I headed back for the right one – Mont Royal, of course, and got there, surprised to see so many huggers infront of the metro station – my guess is that there was about 15 of us. There was about the same amount of women as men and a good mix of nationalities (French, Canadian, European, East Indian and Asian), and even an elderly man dressed all in white with “Free Hugs” printed on his jacket.
I felt a bit anxious but I was excited and really looking forward to this. I proceeded to hug some of the fellow huggers and hold my own sign up for the passersby to question and react to. I slowly paced around, mostly spending my time infront of the metro station entrance/exit, riding the wave of little activity to suddenly loads of people coming out. It was incredibly interesting and educative to just stand there and watch people’s reactions. It really was a mixed bag, of reactions and of strangers that either rushed towards me without hesitation or were coaxed out of their hesitation. It felt good to be able to coax the hesitant and shy ones into a hug, my coaxing consisting of a sweet and slightly shy smile, and either a jiggle of the sign or a follow of the eyes, sometimes followed by a French invitation. I was delighted to be able to get to hug two black “thug” teens who were usually too cool for anyone, their hugs quick and awkwardly distant, but existent nonetheless. I hugged businessmen, the elderly, children, and all kinds of young men and women with arms wide open (or at least with a glimmer of excitement and hesitant wanting in their eyes). There were solo hugs, group hugs, and even running hugs, with one man picking up both I and another hugger up in an exciting twirl, and another guy coming back to ‘take his hug back’ because I was “so darned cute”. Silly me being so short, I often found myself on tip toes to hug the tall guys that approached me.
I should have known that I, including various other huggers, would get the finger shaken at us from certain Quebecers for having English signs (Some of us had French signs too, but obviously that wasn’t enough for our patriotic, separatist Quebecers =P). It’s true – Although Free Hugs was English, the concept surpasses all barriers and has no set language, and we were indeed in a French province, and so I proceeded to write “Calins Gratuits” inbetween the English words. An Italian came to photograph me and flirt with me, eventually adding “Abrazzis Gratis” at the top of my sign, which actually reached two elderly Italians later in the day. One of them was a woman who shared her hate for the English (accenting her passion with a middle finger to the air) and her disapproval of the other huggers but not me because my sign was “special”, following with how Italians were the best people in the world – but she never hugged me. The other was an elderly man who asked me what this was about. I tried my best at Italian to explain and his eyes opened with surprised delight, happy to get a hug, then telling me something I couldn’t understand (one of those awkward situations were I just have to smile and hope he doesn’t expect a response), but I did catch his thanks and wishing me a good weekend.
I felt wonderful. The sky was clear blue, warm and sunny with flocks of pigeons flying overhead from time to time, and musicians playing ethnic music with their hand drums and miscellaneous instruments nearby, huggers dancing to the rhythm. People all around were giving and receiving hugs, many smiles and thanks were exchanged, and cameras fluttered about. I didn’t shy away from the cameras, I smiled my best smile, laughed my cutest laugh, and kicked all prejudgements out of the way. For so long I’ve felt detached from this world and have deemed it doomed with its degradation and dieing sense of community, but here strangers were putting reason and prejudgment and caution-distance out of the way to reach out for a hug with someone they’d never met before.
I wonder about those who were irritated by us (one unfortunate hugger got two “fuck you”s as reactions, one of them having the women get up into her face with a vicious middle finger and a venomous voice after the sweet French girl tried explaining the purpose of what we were doing), and I especially feel bad for those that were too shy to approach us, otherwise really wishing to be able to share a hug, and ultimately regretting it… And then I wonder about the people that passed me that day, both huggers and avoiders, and what they’ll think when they see me again, either blankly staring out the metro train windows, sitting around looking depressed and anti-social, or walking about in the city, without my sign.
To feed my curiosity, I tried to keep count of the hugs that I shared but it was impossible. I do know that the count was over 110. Over 110 hugs to various strangers in a matter of a couple of hours – What an experience! I wanted to continue, but the number of huggers dwindled until there was only almost half a dozen left, the last of them planning to chat over snacks at a nearby cafe. I didn’t quite feel comfortable continuing alone so I followed them, ultimately ending up spending all evening with them. All three women were from France, some having just moved to Montreal, others having been here for a while. The organizer, Caro, had been doing this for a year or so, organizing Free Hugs every once in a while (those who came to the Mont Royal Free Hugs came from various resources – CouchSurfing, Facebook, and a couple of other events websites), and loved it. She said she didn’t do many during the winter because of the obvious, but indeed did one or two right before Christmas, when people felt more likely to open up to an idea like this, and to give a hug to the lonely ones in dear need. She recounted a sad story of a Free Hugs campaign she did one Father’s Day, where an older man gave her a substantial hug, informing her of how his only daughter had never called her, and expressing his deep gratitude for her hug. Some people really just need a hug to feel better, no matter who it comes from, because we’re all humans, no matter how different…
Caro and Anna were wonderfully generous and bought me a chocolate brownie cheesecake when they found out I didn’t have a penny on me. We eventually made our way to the Tam Tams, giving out hugs as we walked our way there, and obviously giving many hugs when we got there, an easy place to get caught up with a Free Hugs sign by drunk and stoned people. I missed out on the hug giveaway with the men in armor up the hill, unfortunately… I really wanted to spar with them, but it seemed so awkward. The music was awesome as usual, and as hyped up as I was, I was still too shy to dance, as usual.
The sun had started to set and goosebumps started growing on all of us, to the point where we literally started chasing the setting sun for warmth. Even as we rested against the last sun-baked trees, people were coming over for hugs. The trio planned to have supper at a Portugese supper but I backed out, finally making my way back home. Of course, despite my efforts to hide my sign as I walked back to the metro, a girl on a pub porch spotted it and yelled out “It’s Free Hugs!!” and chased me back. She wanted to introduce one of her friends to the Free Hugs campaign and so we shared a group hug. How funny.
Strangely enough, when I got back I was still full of energy. The adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet, but maybe it was all this shared positive energy that was keeping me going. My jaw and head did hurt though from all the smiling, but it was so worth it. I know there’s tons of pictures of me out there now, I just wish I could get them to forever remember this wonderful experience. I look forward to the next Free Hugs campaign I can attend, and from now on, I know I won’t ever hesitate to hug someone who’s giving out hugs for free, no catch. As much as this has affected me, I know it has affected everyone else, from the strangers who approached us in need of a hug, to the giddy delighted ones who rushed towards us, to the shy ones that conquered one of their fears, to those who shunned us as they passed by, I’m sure they’ve all been affected by and have reflected upon what happened at some point in their lives.
I enjoy the packing up and unpacking of my stuff in a new place. While many people find moving out time and energy consuming as well as stressful, I enjoy it. Change. Exercise. Rediscovery of lost items hidden in crannies. And the possibilities found in new places. It’s exciting. It was sad to take all the art down from the walls though… And then I started worrying that not everything would fit in the car!
Francis was finally moving back into his room so I had to move out. Someone had to drive the car back to Ottawa afterwards though, so Crow said he’d come down with Francis and take all my stuff and I to Montreal before heading back to Ottawa. That would make my life much less complicated!
The next two pictures are pretty much everything I own (minus a couple pieces of furniture I wish I could have brought along). Those crates we used as a bookshelf sure keep coming in handy! They make excellent moving boxes for the heavy stuff like my gemstones and books.
I was actually unsure of where exactly I’d be moving to, but it was either at Jess’, Pascal’s girlfriend’s place (she was barely living there anyway – How nice of them!) or at my mom’s, and thanks to Crow, Sage could probably be taken care of by his friends I’d met before, a really sweet couple who had their own cat and treated her well. It was complicated figuring things out last minute, but I had faith that things would work out.
I was pretty much all set to go when Crow and Francis arrived, though the last two days had been chaotic since all the roommates had come back – One guy made his appearance by rushing in with what seemed to me a rifle and hollering at the top of his lungs, making animal sounds or exclaiming his excitement at drinking lots of beer. Another was a marijuana addict and had friends over, keeping his door and all lights open until like 3am, playing loud music and making it impossible for me to get my much needed sleep (I’d asked them to turn out the hallway light and close their doors because I had to keep my door partially open for Sage but they wouldn’t).
Oh dear, Sage… I was so worried for her the whole last two days I was there. Despite my efforts at exclaiming to the roommates how they couldn’t feed anything to Sage at all, I’d still find food plates on the floor, and them feeding her whatever they were eating even right infront of me while I pleaded them not to… Needless to say she ended up with diarrhea. Sage is so small, I was worried she’d get squished one night by one of the stoned drunks. To make matters worse, they kept leaving the front door open! Countless times I had to slam it close after I brought Sage back in from the porch – She loves the outdoors and so isn’t scared to go outside, and I could have easily lost her.
This had been seriously stressing me, but the stress kept piling up on the day that Crow and Francis arrived when the marijuana addict came back home with a street kitten he picked up during his walk, a 3 week old ball of fur. I was very displeased – How could someone separate this (yes, adorable tortoiseshell polydactyl) kitten from her mother so young!? She was weaned way too young, and this guy decided to adopt her without any idea of what he was doing. I told him he had to do research right away but instead he spent all night playing Halo. That kitten’s survival wasn’t the only issue – I had Sage to worry about too – Who knew where this kitten came from and what disease she might be carrying. I pleaded for him not to let her out of his room, but of course he did. Since my past room was occupied, I had to keep poor Sage closed up in the bathroom, crying and crying to get out. Ugh, I was so done with this scene and couldn’t wait to leave.
But we couldn’t leave half as quickly as I had wished. Packing the car took a while but the main problem was the inability to put the bike on the bike rack. This sure was a downer as the bike was going to be my main source of transport in Montreal. But I brought our spirits up by cooking a delicious lasagna and apple crisp and sharing it with Crow while sitting on milk crates in the yard. By the time we decided to just leave without the bike, evening was settling in and a 6-or-so-hour drive to Montreal sounded unappealing to Crow – apparently he’d gotten barely any sleep the night before. I’d gone through a lot of stress and downers (from loneliness and abandonment to the unknown of where I was headed to my insecurities to a sudden giant loss of money that Robin suddenly used behind my back and told me about the day before my moving out (7,000$ that was supposed to go to me when the sailboat was sold…) to the stress of keeping Sage safe) and little sleep or poor sleep, but I tried my best to stay positive and cheerful. I tried my best all week to stay positive and cheerful, but my good spirit was now wavering. Crow’s mood turned impatient, irritated, unhappy and angry at me for not knowing where we were going, but I was doing what I could. I couldn’t keep my spirits up anymore, especially after I got stuck in the dungeon basement trying to bring the bike down… I kinda had a nervous breakdown but eventually calmed myself and got my spirits up again. I really didn’t want to stay any longer at this house but we decided to head out the next morning (Francis said he’d sleep at a friend’s). We drove around that night, enjoying the fresh air, looking for places to buy food and ended up at a Taco shop, then a pharmacy where I bought a big tub of Nutella for comfort food. We slept well that night, minus the walking in stray kitten pee puddles and bananas when I went to use the bathroom in the middle of the night…
There was drama in the morning when the last roommate showed up and learned that his supposed arch enemy had adopted a kitten. The rifle-toting hollering roommate was also angry with the other’s irresponsible behavior with the kitten for he feared it might die while everyone went out on their first day of school. I made sure it had water and gave it some canned food, upon which the kitten devoured in a frenzy (where it put all the food in its body I’m unsure, but it was obviously starving). We left then, the angry hungover roommates, kitchen a complete disaster after a couple of days… I don’t even want to know how things will turn out there.
Upon hearing what happened with the sailboat money and how Robin suddenly had a switch of heart like that, Crow was furious. I wanted to focus on the moving which was such a big deal in my life. It’s true that what Robin did wasn’t right, but I didn’t want to add stress by having to deal with this issue, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of money either, but Crow insisted we stop by the Hannigans on our way to Montreal. Robin wasn’t there, but I found out that his sister was. I dreaded meeting any of his relatives because I knew that some of them definitely didn’t like me, but I waited for Saskia to end her violin class to talk with her, since she saw us pull in. I walked out to the road and paced in anxiousness while I waited, then made my way back but I started freaking out, I didn’t want to be here at all, I felt like I couldn’t escape and that’s when my mind started to race and I started freaking out. I searched for a place to hide, anywhere, and rushed to the garage in the backyard. That’s when the panic attack hit full force, I’ve never had one quite like it. I started trembling and had serious hyperventilation. I can’t even begin to describe the feelings that overcame me. Crow eventually got Saskia to come over, dear Saskia, and by then I had calmed down a good bit. She gave me some natural calming medicine and tried to comfort me. I felt bad for suddenly showing up at her place like this, what a surprise for her, but she always knows what to do and say, and she’s never biased or judgmental. She’s a really wonderful woman and I look up to her.
We finally left, the sky grey as we drove on, just looking out at the sky in a vegetative state with Sage on my lap. This is not how I wanted my moving day to go. I felt so detached from everything around me, so out of it, but Sage, my precious little girl, curled up in my arms and warmed my heart. I spent the ride to Kingston with her curled up on my chest, kissing her, rubbing her belly, watching her blissfully happy face fall into a comfy sleep. In Kingston, she stuck her head out the window, sniffing the unfamiliar air, quietly watching pedestrians walk by, unknowingly bringing life and warmth back into me.
We stopped for food at the Sleepy Goat. Crow went out to see his cousin while I ordered a ceasar salad, but the music was horrendously intrusive and violent and loud and put me back into a very negative mood. I was starving and wanted to enjoy a nice relaxing meal with Crow, but I had to swallow my salad whole to get the hell out of there, ending up with indigestion. Even outside I couldn’t enjoy peace and quiet as a crazy lady went on and on about random stuff on the curb by the restaurant – I had no patience for this right now, I just wanted to disappear. Crow came back with fresh local organic veggies his cousin passed on to me, how sweet, but I couldn’t even appreciate that now. I had been quiet until then but now I didn’t hold back my negativity and made known my unhappiness, even amusing Crow with a bunch of my dark humor about hell coming down on me.
I know that often I’m just in a bad mindset and need to see the positive side of things, but sometimes I feel like my acting my best is challenged with all kinds of shit that pile into a ridiculously nasty pile of shit, making it almost impossible to deal with positively – almost as if there’s some power out there messing with me, just to defy me. I can handle sudden big problems quite well it seems, but having all kinds of shit go wrong and pile up and continue to get worse is not something I handle well. I don’t think it’s something anyone handles well, especially when they have insecurities and a lack of ways to express and get rid of their inner turmoil. I always get out of that bad mindset, but I always wind up back in it too, in and out all the time, what a rollercoaster ride… I sometimes feel like I don’t have any control over my moods…
We stopped at a convenience store for gas and to make some phonecalls. Less than two hours away from Montreal, it was finally confirmed that I could stay at Jess’ place and that Dave and Melissa could take care of Sage while I tried to find a place to move into that accepts cats. The sky had turned blue and sunny again, a nice sunset to roll into Montreal with. I tried to bring my mood back up. We left Sage and all her stuff at Dave and Melissa’s, hoping that their giant tortoiseshell Chubs would get along with her, and finally arrived at my new, temporary home in the dark.
Pascal and Jess greeted me by the entrance, just showing up to make sure I knew where to go and to introduce me to my new roommates. Crow thanked them with great gratitude, then Pascal and Jess were off. After all the boxes made their way up the spiraling staircase, we rested on the bed, exhausted. Crow headed off but I’d see him again soon at Dave’s surprise birthday party, where I’d also get to see Sage again.
Here I now was, in my new room loaded with boxes, a nice fully-furnished room, and apparently two cool roommates to share the space with. I took a breath of fresh air on the high balcony, glad to be out of the mad house, glad to have found a temporary home for Sage, glad to be back in Montreal, glad to be able to regain a some of my lost positive energy, and went straight to bed. ~Aaah, a comfy big bed, a real bed, and finally a good night’s sleep…
Well, actually, instead of getting myself ready for bed properly, I kind of just passed out on it, and then roommate #1 (aka Charles, the one in charge of the place) startled me when he came in my room calling Jess’ name with a big smile on his face, then shouted sorry multiple times as he ran back out of the room after realizing I wasn’t her. He kept apologizing – I really didn’t care, I was just totally out of it. I gave a half-@$$ed introduction, brushed my teeth, and went to bed for real… and locked my door =P.
Actually, I don’t even know where I, my little toirtoiseshell kitten Sage and my stuff are specifically going tomorrow, but it’s either in Laval or Montreal. I plan on getting my own place or renting in a community home in Montreal for a while. How exciting. Montreal, here I come (back)!
Crow and his mom Joan invited me to join them at their cottage by the Georgian Bay for the last week of August, finishing with Crow’s birthday on the 30th. Noticing the inevitable, we wanted to spend some nice time together before we finally went our separate ways. Besides, I really loved the cottage and wouldn’t want to miss a chance at enjoying some relaxing time there. They’d already been there a few days when Crow came down to pick Sage and I up.
Our arrival was greeted with rain, but eventually, as the sun started to set, the sky went from a heavy grey to a captivating mix of oranges and beiges. It was strange to see it rain when it was so bright, the sky semi-clear, and then a rainbow appeared over the trees!
Short Lesson: Rainbows always appear in the opposite direction of the sun and are seen when the sun shines on drops of moisture in the atmosphere and the light is reflected in the droplets, seen only at a certain angle, meaning they can never be physically approached – Isn’t that neat? They can form in the mist of a waterfall and even the spray of water sports. You can also have a reflection of a rainbow (complicated reason…) that ends up showing a rainbow and a fainter one above, with the colors reversed.
There’s something special about silently appreciating the beauty of a sunset on the edge of a serene lake… (A few days later we enjoyed a canoe ride over the lake, awe turning into worry filled our minds as we watched the setting sky’s clouds tumble across with great mass and speed. There’d been a storm warning for that night so we didn’t think we should stick around the middle of the lake to experience it at full blast).
The sunsets here were often of orange and beige hues, but sometimes they’d be a fluffy pink, soft purple hue. The sky on the evening of our arrival went from grey to bright orange to soft pink and purple, and that’s when mist started rolling over the lake. I have a deep love for mist, especially on rolling green hills or between tall cliffs shooting out of a river (Eastern style), or simply mist in the morning.
Over the past year I’ve been coaxed and bugged by Crow constantly to go swimming… But I’m just not crazy about swimming! I’m a decent swimmer but I feel weak in it, and I get really freaked out when I suddenly have waves wash over my head or someone tries to dunk me under, reason being because of the time I almost drowned while swimming in the ocean with a hurricane in sight in Mexico (see my old blog The Canoe…). Indoor swimming pools can be fun, especially with water toys, but I really hate the chlorine. I once went swimming at the water amusement park in Edmonton’s giant mall and the MASSIVE amounts of chlorine there almost killed me. I felt filthy and disgustingly sick and depraved of energy for the rest of the day. Beyond all that, it’s usually just horribly cold for me, I can barely enjoy it!
BUT. I finally went for it this time, just jumped in, suffered that horrible cold shock those first few seconds, then treaded water in a shivering dance for a couple of minutes before that was enough for me. The last time I went swimming was a short dip in the ocean in Veracruz in March, where I had Crow float-carry me out upon our discovery of nasty-painful sea urchins lining the ocean bottom.
Crow eventually took out this heavy thing for a spin. It looked really difficult and awkward to do, but he obviously knew what he was doing with it, to the best of his efforts, considering we couldn’t get the pole on right…
The peace and quiet that weekend was unavoidably interrupted when a boat passed by Blaring a genre of music I can’t even define. I don’t understand how this could be a smart financial move, but the driver was apparently advertising ice cream or something of the sorts, catering to those relaxing on their docks.
Contemplation on the edge of the lake. It`d already been obvious for quite a while but Crow and I would finally go our separate ways, and once I got back to Peterborough, I would have one week to figure out what I was going to do with myself and where I was going to stay, for Crow’s brother Francis was moving back in around the 7th. My new kitty Sage and I, along with all of my stuff, had nowhere to go. Crow suggested Montreal. He said there were many reasons for me to move there – It’s my hometown and I could get integrated back into my French Quebecer roots, and it’s loaded with all kinds of people and opportunities. It’s also relatively close by to Peterborough, making the move much easier than one, lets say, across the Country. I knew it too, I remembered my fond love of Montreal and knew I would feel busily happy there. There was much to do and in very little time, but I could do nothing about it here, it would have to wait until I got back.
Check it out! It’s my wisdom tooth! Oh that damn thing had been bugging me for the past week and a half and it was really unpleasant and sometimes very painful to deal with. At first I thought it might have just been a cut packed with a bunch of food on it or something, but I remembered how my last dentist visit over a year ago had got me x-rays of my teeth, and the dentist said that all 4 wisdom teeth would have to come out at some point, and surgically because they were underneath. My heart sunk – Stuff like this having to do with my teeth really freaks me out. I figured it must have been a wisdom tooth trying to come out, and it was. But getting a dentist appointment here was impractical considering the huge waiting list, never mind the big fees…
So while I was at the cottage, Joan suggested I consider taking care of the issue with a local dentist. I really didn’t want to have to ruin my relaxing time here with the possibility of lots of pain and unpleasant facial bruises, but now was a good time, and this needed to be dealt with – I’d been suffering from mild pain for a while now and eating was quite painful to do.
We made an appointment to see a dentist in a small town, where I was told that yes indeed it was my top left wisdom tooth giving me trouble slowly coming out, it was not infected but was decaying, and they could take it out for me. I have an overactive mind so I wanted to be sedated when they took the tooth out – Doing it awake or even on laughing gas would put me in mental distress. And so I was to come back the next day to get it done. Ugh, I was Not looking forward to it, but Joan was extremely nice in helping me out and putting it on her card while we’d figure out how to get Crow’s ODSP to cover part of it.
I had a much crisper picture of this but I decided to use the blurry one for added effect… After the operation, I was Seriously messed up!
Don’t you just hate it when the nurse can’t get the needle in your vein and so tries and tries again, twisting and pulling and just downright causing you aggravating pain that almost makes you angry at her? She eventually taped the I.V. to my elbow, saying she’d caught the corner of my vein, and once the dentist came in, they hooked me up to the sedative. All four of us just kinda stood around (or sat, for me) for a while, waiting for the sedative to take effect, but it just wouldn’t. They then decided to hook me up on laughing gas and, as they did so, I saw the dentist taking a sedative needle and getting prepare to shoot it directly into me. Exactly where and when I’m not sure, I passed out dead cold with a non-existing transition from awake to asleep.
I semi awoke with a nurse on each side, sitting me down on the dentist chair saying something about this not working. Apparently I’d already been in there for over half an hour after the operation and it was time for me to go. With the help of Crow and another nurse, I was dragged to the vehicle. I remember gauze in my mouth. Then I awoke in a grocery store. I swear I don’t remember going in. I don’t even remember walking. I do remember what seemed to be the manager yelling “Is she okay!?” at us… Then I was in front of the ice cream section. Crow insisted I get some for myself, even two. Apparently I spent half an hour there, passing in and out of consiousness and dropping ice cream containers on the floor, slurring (from what Crow tells me in an amused manner) “It’s nooot heeaaallthyyy…” and “It’s toooo expeennsiiive…”. Hahaha, I can’t help but laugh thinking about my persistent frugal health-concsious mind even when I was totally doped up! Crow called me “dopey” all day. Well, after making a grand fool of myself at the grocery, we were off. I suddenly found myself in bed at the cottage, eating delicious ice cream while Sage tried to get some samples.
I slept for a long time, with Sage being the wonderful companion she is, sleeping by my side. Woke up with blood stains on the pillow, damn. The hole in my mouth felt very strange for the first few days, almost painful, but not quite, with day 3 or 4 profusely bleeding, but then it eventually healed, with no complications! Except for the thread dangling part ways down my throat one day as it tried to free itself from my two stitches… Glad that’s over with, and I hope it won’t have to happen again!
I spent a lot of time in this chair contemplating, alone, quietly enjoying the view, the breeze, the movement of the water, the fish and turtles swimming by, the clouds rolling over… It was a really good place to think.
Crow’s aunts came over and we celebrated his birthday early, with salmon loaf, fresh veggies and chocolate zucchini cake decorated by the most adorable duckie candles. Crow didn’t show it then, but he later told me how he hated birthdays because it meant he was older and had less time, and he regretted not doing all the things he wanted to do, especially after the tragic summer we had had. He was actually seriously unhappy. I tried to console him but I don’t think it did anything to make him feel better. What did make him feel better was jump off a bridge. A really tall train bridge.
Here’s an awesome picture of Crow jumping off in between passing boats. A group of teens had collected there, coaxing each other to jump off, shivering in the cold wind as they tortured themselves about doing it.
This picture doesn’t do the bridge’s height justice, but it’s still pretty neat, and yes, pretty dangerous. From what he knew, no one had ever jumped from that height before – It was difficult enough just getting up there, and even his knees were shaking, but he did it, he just had to. I, like an idiot, didn’t remember that my camera can take videos, because the second jump would have made a great video – From Crow jumping off the top to his hilarious cursing as he crouch-walked his way out of the water – For some reason he hadn’t closed his legs when he hit the water, so I can only imagine how painful that must have been for him. He was seriously in pain so we made our way back to the car after that, stopping for a big bag of penny candies at the convenience store as a treat (which he dropped all over the floor…). He was still glad he did it though. Now he could brag to his brother.
I actually ended up binging on both the double chocolate and raspberry swirl ice creams… When the tubs were empty, I had to resort to *All Natural* ice cream that I found in the woods! Yummy.
One of the aunts had brought over a peculiar plant from her garden, apparently known as Granny’s Glasses, but I couldn’t find anything on it on the internet. Nonetheless, it’s really cool!
We spent a lot of nights playing boardgames – Old-school Careers and Scattergories (which would repeatedly make my head rush, implode and go blank) as examples, and the Monopoly card game that Crow got for his birthday as a wish, which was lots of fun. I love playing board games but I don’t usually have anyone to play with… So this was a blast!
The kitchen was loaded with all the kitchen appliances and equipment you could think of! It sometimes got cold at night so I’d have to borrow big fouffy clothes to stay warm (more like steal Crow’s clothes haha). One night I put on a white hoody (the second time in my life I voluntarily put white clothes on, no kid), and felt so uncomfortable in it that I had to take it off in a matter of 2 minutes. I don’t know what it is about me and white clothes… Here I am, taking a bite of some delicious apple crisp, ~mmmmm.
Crow and I ended up spending some lovely time together, I got to relax and enjoy living life simply and slowly with bare-minimum electronics. I got to eat some tasty food and play board games with him and his relatives, and I got to introduce Sage to the wonderful world of the woody outdoors. But the week was over and it was time for us to return to civilization. Crow and Joan dropped Sage and I off in Peterborough where I’d have to get serious about what my next plan was. I had one week.
P.S. For a long time I’ve had a particular way of posting updates, in the way of putting up my pictures and then writing about and around them, but sometimes, it seems to me that the photos have too much… power, for lack of a better word. I feel like I should be writing a flowing story and then compliment it with photos, right? (Wanting but not expecting an answer but anyway…)
Crow had left me in a miserable state, once again, and all the roommates were away. My attempts at making friends flat-out failed. I’m usually one to enjoy solitude, but not like this, not in this state of mind, after all I’d been through… I felt worthless. I was depressed and lonely and had no one to talk to.
I started looking at pictures of cats being given away on Kijiji just for the sake of pleasant daydreaming, but then actually started considering adopting one. I had to leave Peterborough in a month and wasn’t sure where I would be heading after that, and I didn’t know if the other roommates would be okay with her when they eventually came back. I also had to consider my shortage of money but I was in desperate need of company, company who would love me unconditionally, who was calm and enjoyed the simple life, who was furry and would sleep beside me at night, lay on my lap while I read or used the internet, company which I could mutually love and help out… In general, I missed having pets, I really do love animals and find it much easier to talk to them than humans. Near the beginning of August I made some appointments to meet some cats And their owners, my only social interaction besides the weekly Food Not Bombs… So pathetic, I know…
The first one I met was the one I ended up liking the most. Donna the owner had brought her over for me to meet her – She had gone on vacation to Florida for a while, leaving her cat in the care of someone else, and came back to eventually find out that her cat had gotten pregnant during her leave. She couldn’t take care of the three kittens and so was looking for homes for them before she had to leave them at the shelter soon.
“Bea” was a 12 week-old tortoiseshell kitten. I’ve always had a thing for torties (and calicoes), especially after adopting my beloved calico kitty Maha. I just love the random n wild flecks of color throughout their fur, colors of a tiger. She was very quiet and calm, curious but cautious, often taking only a few steps before sitting and observing her environment. She reminded me of me. Donna was ready to leave her with me, but I told her I’d consider it. I was also meeting other cats in a few days. But I should have known. In the end I contacted Donna a few days later, hoping Bea was still homeless, having decided to take her in.
And so came my kitty, with a litter box and some litter and food. She quickly adapted and made herself at home. I renamed her Sage, keeping in mind that she would teach me many important things along the way, and that she would be medicinal to me in her own way.
Sage’s favorite fun-place, where she’d snatch a toy and slide under when she got all twitchy with energy, that I eventually cleaned up after noticing the growing colony of schtuff down there. Check out the fuzz coming out of her ears!
The previous owner fed her commercial kitten food and, although I don’t have much money, I wanted to make sure that my kitty was fed good food. I got her some grain-free, dairy-free, soy-free, artificial-ingredient-free, slow-cooked Canadian-made food, double the price I’m willing to pay for such an awesome product. P.S. the adorable kitty bowls! (Oh boy, I’m losing it aren’t I? I really missed having pets around!)
One of the great things about cats is that they think everything is a toy – You could give them the cap of your juice bottle and they’ll be doing spazzy flips in no time. No need to buy expensive plastic toys or super expensive natural toys at the pet shop! But I wanted to make her some special kitty toys anyway, and so after getting an idea on the net, I got some fabric and started sewing up some mice. What you need to make them is really basic, and they’re quick to make. I don’t like adding tiny bits that could be ripped off and swallowed by accident, so I just sew big spots for eyes, stitch up the ears really well, and use thick cord for the tail. I thought about adding catnip in with the stuffing but I hear that kittens can have bad trips and therefore should at least be about a year old before giving the herb a try…
This was my second, and although much better than my prototype, this poor little mouse suffers from a humpback… Sorry, little guy!
I guess it’d be sad if I made a bunch of toys for her and she just walked by them indifferently, but she totally loved them!
Crow and his mom invited me to join them at their cottage for the last week of August (Crow, feeling bad for how he’d left previously, wanted us to spend some nice time together), about 5 days after I’d adopted Sage. I didn’t know how well she’d travel during the 4-hour drive to the cottage, but she did surprisingly well! I had to improvise a carrier by using a milk crate, but she did better when she was out of it, resting on my lap or sleeping at my feet instead of crying every once in a while.
What really impressed me was how smart she is. There are two cottage houses on the site – A main one, and another smaller one that Crow, Sage and I took over. We decided to bring her down in the crate to check it out. She was rather scared of Lucy the dog, sometimes curiously approaching her, sometimes hissing, probably her first encounter with dogs. Crow and I were playing a board game and were wondering why she suddenly kept meowing a whole bunch. We looked back and saw her in the crate, head poking over the top, staring at us with her big squinty-eyed-smile of a meow. She wanted to go to the other house to use her litter which we’d forgotten to bring down! She confirmed this by using the litter right away once there, and expressed this another time later in the week. How wonderful! How much better than the nasty surprise of suddenly smelling something really awful lingering in the house, and I tell ya, Sage is a special stinky little kitty!
So I started disciplining her to understand that the crate was her mode of transportation for getting around. At the cottage I used it to transport her outside for little runs in the forest – Her first real encounter with the outdoors, by my guess. And she loved it! She wasn’t scared, just cautious, and after a while she would start prancing around and jolting through the fallen leaves, once in a while ecstatic by the presence of chipmunks and squirrels, and sometimes attempting to climb some trees.
It was adorable just watching her play with this kids toy – Oh how it brings back memories! She got into the habit of chasing the bugs around that came in and showed awesome skill at swatting them down from the air.
All in all, she enjoyed the cottage life. She slept with me in bed and snoozed in a big chair while we were out, went on walks through the forest with me, and although she didn’t take too kindly of Lucy, she did visit her in the back of the car on the ride back, rubbing noses without a hiss.
Back home she spent more and more time on my lap as I worked on the computer, often laying between my body and the keyboard (which rests on my lap since it’s too high on the desk), either with her head bobbing between my two busy typing hands, or her nestling around my arms into a wonderful snooze. Obviously, it made it very hard for me to type or change positions sometimes but, honestly, I just can’t bring myself to disturb such a cute-looking, blissfully happy snoozing kitty even if it’s hurting and inconveniencing me!
Being leisurely silly as ever, she had no idea what was coming… A visit to the clinic! The time for her second shots was up. She took the shots incredibly well, but it was the ride there that was not pleasant at all, for any of us.
I was incredibly lucky to get a stranger decide to help me out and drive me to next-door town Lakefield for her shots. I had no way of getting there and decided to post on various sites like Kijiji incase someone would actually reply, and someone did! A woman named Dianna who’s business is to drive around elderly and sick people to and from hospitals and appointments, she gave me the ride for free to and from, glad to help out a fellow cat-lover. She has allergies and couldn’t have any cats of her own, but she regularly made donations to Lakefield’s LAW and ARK organizations.
Lakefield wasn’t far away and, considering how the previous two long rides had gone so well, I wasn’t concerned about this time being an issue. I should have known that things don’t always go to plan though, as Sage was freaking out for most of the ride. Crying and crying and trying to push and claw her way through the crate, she was eventually allowed to roam around for a bit, but after being back in the crate for a while, the frantic meowing and shoving continued, and then it came. That smell, which I wish was just a really smelly lingering fart, was something partially solid that ended up covering half the inside of the crate as Sage sobbed with disgrace – Oh poor thing, oh poor us! We stopped by a park to clean up, but while Dianna held Sage for a moment, Sage tried to escape and scratched her good on her arm with her probably tainted claws, great. I kept apologizing but Dianna was really understand and actually didn’t care, although she did state that no one had ever defecated in her care before.
I felt bad for Sage who felt filthy and disgraced but she calmed down once we got to the clinic, which was Packed! ARK (Animal Rescue Krew) is a really awesome non-profit organization but they’re only open for free shots on fridays so there’s always a long line-up. Their place is Loaded with all kinds of miscellaneous items like kitchenware, books, VHS tapes, puzzles and whatnot, as well as various pet-related items surrounded the building outside, all of which were for sale for cheap. People were greatly generous to the point where the small amount of volunteers didn’t have the time and space to sort out all the donated stuff and so it looked like a dump. It was nice inside though, just really full of stuff. Dianna had to eventually step out due to all the cat dander.
When we were finally done with the shots and signing of vet papers, we headed back to the car to find a real cat carrier in the passenger’s seat – Dianna had bought me a cat carrier while I was in line! Although it was only a couple of bucks, it was very thoughtful of her. She was just so nice. She talked about the importance of doing good things for those around us, and for the kindness to be passed on. I wanted to give her a key chain or some piece of jewelry I’d made in thanks, but she refused. We instead agreed that once I got my own place in Montreal, she could come stay at my place when she came to visit the city.
But speaking of moving out… Time is running out for me to find out where I am going in a week’s time, never mind where Sage will stay! Considering how rare it is to find a place that allows pets, I know it’ll be a challenge. Having a cat with me will challenge and limit me in various ways, like dealing with a bit more expenses and not being able to go out on spontaneous little trips or needing to find someone to take care of her while I’m out… But how can I say no to that face!?
She came into my life when I was dealing with hardship and was all alone. She brought love, company and purpose into my life, and we mutually helped each other out. Over time we really started to bond, and it would break my heart to have to part from her. This possible “have to” is questionable though – While in one way, finding her a new home would rid me of all those added challenges, those extra little expenses and would make me open to more opportunities and places to stay at, it would also make me consider my morals… Maybe these new challenges are a test, testing my mindset on friendship and ease of life. I can’t always take the easy way out just because it’s easy – There are definitely things to be gained by going through the trouble of making something challenging work, and friendship – Furry or not, how far would I go for them? I’ve been hearing it more these days, like it’s a sign that I gotta stay tuned into to, that you gotta take the good with the bad, and friends are there for each other during tough times. This especially rings true as I know how much it sucks to be left alone when things get tough… I may be able to find Sage a home, but I wouldn’t know if that home would treat her well, and it would make me feel bad for a long time, and it would make Sage sad for a while too. She really does bring a lot of happiness to me, and we’re connecting more each day, so I will try to keep her. I don’t want to just take the easy way out.
I want to keep this precious little kitty.
