Summer Drop-Bys

The summer drop-bys are starting again and on the first day of a supposedly productive week. This Monday afternoon, Sarah Patterson rings from the VV down the street and pops by soon there after with a synthesized LP and Thin Lizzy woven leather shoes. As another twenty-something retiree, we actually have become ladies of leisure for at least one more summer. Wanting an adventure, or at least a cheap sandwich, but with too many things to do, I summon a field trip out of errands and we're soon on Princess Elizabeth Rd and heading towards downtown.

First stop: Vue Weekly to pick up gift certificates I won in some sort of lottery. Posing as my intern for the day, Patterson picked up an envelope filled with Fiore Cantina gift certificates. But before a complimentary lunch could be had, we drove by the still-burnt out Arlington where security cameras and lights are now fixated on the North/West side of the building. "Who's watching?" I wondered. Clearly no one as this lot is downright shameful. But we pass as I had to drop things off at the Elizabeth Fry Foundation, a provincial or perhaps national NFP that aids the reintegration of women back into society who's coming directly out of the justice system. Getting a tip from Pamela Anthony that they took donations, especially things such as work clothes for job interviews, I had lots of "office" clothes I've accumulated over the years that outlasted many of the jobs they were bought for. Embracing that I should never have an office job again, these items have yet to see their best days.

Next was lunch, and heading down 106 St hill, I had confused Fiore for Chianti, which I wasn't wild about either, but as neither of us had ever eaten at Fiore, this had to be tried. Strange I had never been even through university, living in Grandin, and just simply walking by it on a weekly basis. But after a mediocre bit of surf, bit of turf lunch, there remained no further reasons to return--except to finish off the remaining certificates.
Okay, one reason: a cantina sized drink, which is 3 oz, but oddly enough in a regular sized martini glass, hits you slowly, but firmly. Shopping at Superstore became an overwhelming task. Patterson tried on swimming suits and I seriously considered rhinestone sunglasses. But eventually standing in line to buy detergent, I was again taken aback as to why the shelves behind the customer service counters are completely empty or covered. The 'out of sight/out of mind' approach to tobacco products is probably the smartest move this government has made in a very long time, but I can't help but speculate what they will fill that prime sightline with next.

Next up was the Antique Mall on Gateway Blvd in search of a new kitchen chair. Finding a white chrome table that has made the entire kitchen much lighter, I needed a single chair to match. Going through the various rooms of compacted old farmhouses, I fondly recalled Saskatchewan, where Saskatoon was first painted as the Paris of the Prairies, but then does that make Edmonton the Moscow of the Prairies? Picking up a light wooden chair that I would sand and paint white if I ever felt like doing that sort of thing, we headed back downtown and up 101 St. Stopped at a light with a real assortment of people crossing the street, Patterson couldn't help but ask aloud if "You'd ever see a more rag-tag downtown than this?"
It's true, our downtown just looks like the biggest small town you'd ever seen, and it doesn't look like it's going to change any time soon. We have an informal rating system of Edmonton fashion that varies from a) Going camping b) Just came back from camping c) Still camping. Until this system fails, we'll know Edmonton is still the Dirt City we know and sometimes like.

Stopping last at the Sprucewood library to pick up items I ordered, and doing a bit of weeding before an evening of work, which involves possibly transplanting some vines and investing into the future, it never ceases to surprise me how much easier it is if you just do instead of think.