The Bus Ride with Mary

Apparently it is worth $2.60 to me to ride the bus every morning with Mary to work because I keep doing it.

We get busy talking about anything.

This morning I was commenting on the reasonable price of public transportation in Montreal – that a monthly pass is $51 so I ride the metro with abandon. I am not above ground on buses that much, although Rebecca Jarvis and I took the Sherbrooke Avenue bus to get us to the Musee de Beaux Arts last week. I keep my bus pass in a cool leather case in which I also carry my name and address, a twenty dollar bill and a credit card, just in case I see something I want. The coin box on the bus has a card reader on which people tap their bus passes. I tried to tap mine. It didn’t work. I tried again. It didn’t work. I said to the bus driver, “Apparently I can’t get the machine to read my card.” He said, “That is because you are using your credit card.”

Mary asked me if the bus driver laughed. I don’t know. I didn’t think to look at him.

On the bus I am busy looking at the kinds of bags civil servants take to work in the morning: a smooth leather bag whose side zipper was only decorative, back packs are popular, a canvas tote bag. I couldn’t really tell which is the best bag. I am trying to go hands free. Just what I can carry in my pocket so there is no weight on my shoulders when I walk. The walking I did today didn’t count for I forgot to wear my fitbit. Oh, my heart probably knows, but my stats are way down when I walk all morning and don’t have it on.

Mary told me to go to the Canadian Archives since all of the museums are closed today. The archives were open, but there were no displays. The last time I was there, many of the early treaties and wampum belts were on display. Right now they are getting together something showingcasing Canadian Prime Ministers but that won’t open until January.

I stood for a long time looking at the commemorative plaque dedicated to the Greenland and Iceland ship goers who first came to the Americas,one of whom was Eric the Red. The security person told me that I could have a card to enter the archives if I could show what kind of research I am doing. That made me laugh. I am doing research every living, breathing moment of the day.

Arta