winnipeg rye bread

Yesterday I was out walking the hood. I hit the time junction of the bus dropping off people near to the market. This elderly woman , cane in hand, disembarked and our eyes met. She asked me to carry her groceries home for her; of course that’s easy I say.

We walked very slowly chatted niceties and I noticed that in the bags were four loaves of Winnipeg rye bread. It seems her friend, who lives on the east side of Vancouver, picks up the loaves and she must travel across town to retrieve them.

Her story; at 79 her knee has blown out, she is originally from Iran, owned and operated a few donut shops over the years and finds herself struggling with the physical decline of her former self. No kids, husband long gone. She asked if I was married…and then said on a parting note “ I will pray for you to get married, god bless”. I left her apartment after placing the loaves gingerly on her dinning table and will wait to see if that prayer does me any good.

seasonal switch up

rain today. the streets are slick, mirror images of light caught between gray clouds and puddles. the scent of winter catches me unaware. i look up at the trees see their bared winter look and realize they too, sleep naked.

its funny how the seasons drive change. we take different moods, attitudes and attach them to people, relationships and inner needs when the outside world changes. it may not even be apparent at the time.

i like all four seasons. its a great way to catalog and reflect on time passed. cause really we never truly examine time until it has passed.