On Shopping at The Fig

The Fig

Shopping is one thing I really miss. 

On our way home from a doctor's appointment, Rebecca said that she would stop at the Mediterranean store called The Fig and pick up a few grocery items for Alex.

Among other things, she buys him some Jasmine honeycomb. When we get home, he is grateful and asks me to try some. I don't really like honey. But if someone asks me to try something, I am all in. I have a flashback to my dad bringing home honeycomb and so like then, I'm putting the beeswax in my mouth and sucking the honey out of it; then chewing the wax for a long time before spitting it out. Alex is gone by now, but I wonder if he is chewing the wax as my dad told me to do.

Alex had wanted some bulk sesame seeds. He was specific about his wants. I just wanted to taste Mediterranean cuisine. I stayed in the car and listen to music though I am the one who really wants to go in. Rebecca shopped for tzatziki, hummus, baba ghanoush, figs, and a small container of tabouli which she assures me no one else will eat. I watch that container during the week. I am sure there is someone else’s spoon dipping into it.

She buys sangak bread that's probably one yard long. I can fold it over and still have a large package. Fresh the label says. I can see the bread has been frozen; it's come frozen from the interior of BC.

Fresh to me means bread has come out of the oven less than half an hour ago. In this case fresh means toast the bread and the flavour will be as good as new. I like the bread’s supple texture. I like the how it folds and bends -- it reminds me of eating Ethiopian stews. But Rebecca toasts the bread. Now it is a very thin wafer under onto the top of which I can scoop the delicious food that I have on my plate. Now I go to the internet for information about the bread: sangak is Farci for small pebbles; the bread is baked on small pebbles’ it should not be surprised to find small rocks on the bread. I will be surprised if there are rocks on mine.

I plate up my food, small spoonful in each quadrant, 

She bought tahnini halva. I taste some and then go look on the internet to see how this is made. 

 I know this taste. Halva is made of sesame seed paste also known as tahini and sugar. It has a dense and crumbly texture and is sometimes flavored with cocoa powder or vanilla. I go back and taste it again. And again. I don't know if I like the halva or not. I remember that a person has to taste something 17 times before they know if they like it. I am on my seventh try now with halva. I am sure I will like the taste more. now that I've gone out and read so much on the web about it. 

Food and factoids about food get mixed up in an experience like this. I didn't like to read that halva is usually served at funerals. Don’t serve this at mine.

I fantasize that I am shopping when I unpack the bags when Rebecca brings the groceries in from the car. I am so glad that Rebecca stopped at The Fig. 

I eat the grocery-run from The Fig for 3 days, each time so thrilled to have a taste of the Mediterranean again. 

The End of a Reno

I have had a reno going on at my house.

Greg: centre and left    Wyona: centre
Winners against the skyline in the distance

Not the best time for a renovation to happen. 

The case in point, I have been holding off for a couple of years too long.

It’s urgency has gone from nice-to be-done to absolutely necessary, even before the pandemic moved to North America.

Now the upstairs bathroom reno is finished, the new shower is installed, and I am waiting for the first shower to taken.

That will be the contractor’s proof that nothing will leak anymore.

Or maybe the home owners proof.

The new water softener downstairs will need salt, and so on my grocery list was three 40 pound bags of water softening salt – more than I can push or carry. I had to shop. Greg came along as my legs and arms today. We went to Costco. I don’t know why we like to go to the early morning opening on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. The line is no shorter when we come out than when we go in, though the clerks have told Wyona that in those early hours, the old people who get in an hour before the regular Costco hours, move really slowly through the store. That clerk probably already knows that the speed she is seeing is absolutely the fastest we can go.

... the line at Costco snakes along newly constructed
outside-of-the-building isles in the early morning hours ...

The first week we went at the ungodly (for some of us) hour of being in the line at 8 am, we stood for an hour in the line up. The wind up there on the prairie is pretty cold.

 Greg said he could see a headline “200 Seniors Freeze to Death”.

 We who live on the upper plateau of the river valley aren’t used to the sweeping wind that comes in across the tops of the foothills where Costco is situated.

Going to Costco used to be a social journey for Wyona and me.

Now we can’t get close enough together in the line-up to talk and we don’t see each other in the store, only as we spot one another – me at the cheese isle and Wyona near the produce area. In fact, social distancing means we just don’t get together – only when Moiya makes a three-way call to us and we are all on the telephone together. That time is actually quite satisfying.

Photo Credit for all pics: Lurene Bates        LtoR: Lurene, Arta, Wyona, Greg
... the moment when we wait for two pizza's from a deserted take-out ...

I have to give Costco a high five for marketing that includes social distancing.

There are lots of sign inside and outside of the store doors.

Costco has found a way to make the line snake up and down the side of the building, which belies the amount of time it will take to get in – there have to be at least 3 long lines to the snake.

Maybe four.

As well, I go in one side of the cooler that holds the vegetables, around a circle and back out the same door but on the opposite fascia of the door. I would say that over ½ of the customers were wearing home made masks (which I see as a gift to those they might cough even-in-the-vicinity-of other customers).

When I am home and my groceries are put away, I look at the bill: clementines, fresh figs, 2 dozen eggs, a kale salad, a baja salad, doulble smoked gouda cheese. I acknowledge, a feast.

As well, I bought water-softener salt.

Arta

New Dish Towels

I kept putting “buy dish towels” on the grocery shopping list.

A pile of leaves under a tree.

I stop to take a picture because
I have stepped on huge leaves
and I want someone else to witness
the size of these leaves.
Note the yellow one, midline on the left.

But going to the grocery store is not the best place to buy large dish towels.

So buy new dish towels kept getting moved from list to list, but never being purchased.

Rebecca doesn’t like shopping.

She really doesn’t like shopping.

She would rather mark papers than go shopping.

Going shopping is the only place I see her get a bit grumpy and that grumpiness falls upon her the minute she gets in the car and turns on the ignition key.

I had not only been asking her to buy new dish towels. I wanted a table where I could put up my computer and never have to move it. Steve has fixed up her office with a new table and screens and it is a place I would love to work, but I am third in line. The office belongs to Rebecca. Alex likes to use it when she is gone. That puts me third in line for that space.

So Rebecca and I went to the thrift store, not wanting to spend that much money since I am not going to be in Victoria for long. The amazing dark wood dining room table with beautiful lathed legs that was there was too heavy and too long for her (just right for me), so she headed to Canadian Tire for a utility table that can be taken down when I leave. Well, every house shoujld have acollapsible utility table. Or at least could have one, though ours didn’t.

I take my glove off of my hand and 
put it beside the yellow leaf that is mid-line
in the picture above.
I really want someone to see
how large the leaves are in Victoria.

Now Rebecca and I popped back in the car and headed into a Canadian Tire, she knowing that the trip would not be totally useless, since Steve needed a small wrench to fix the tap on the kitchen sink which finally became so broken it had to be propped up by a sponge. That can happen in a house where adults, some of them less gentle than others, reach to get at the water. So we bought the wrenches for Steve, two of them since we didn’t know if he needed a four inch or a six inch wrench. The wrenches were ½ price so it was like buying only one and can a man go wrong with too many tools?

Then we stopped by the isle with the utility table which was chosen more for its colour than for its size. On a roll, we headed to the laundry basket isle, for yes, either the handles or the sides of most of hers are broken. While we were on that isle, she also popped two clothes hampers into the cart for the boys, hoping the hampers will potentially become a home for clothes that are now often on the floor.

She has known she needed a medium sized blue recycling bin for pop cans and glass jars but has just never been in the vicinity where she could buy one. By this time we were pushing two carts, not one through Canadian Tire. No wonder shopping makes her grumpy. On the isle where we should have been able to pick up a George Forman grill there were none that would do. She needs one and her grill like that goes into use at least once a day, maybe more. So we failed on that point.

Small joys, I know. At least for me, since I was getting new dish towels. But maybe not such a small joy if I think about the fact that I need one or two of those close by me or someone else needs one when they go to tidy the kitchen, which is done about after every meal.

No trip ends at the till where the credit card is tapped. At least our time with these new items didn’t end there. We had to go to you tube to figure out how to open the black 5’ x 3’ utility table. What did people do before they could go to goggle to find out instructions on how to do things. Oh I know. Maybe the instructions used to come with the table.

And thus endeth Rebecca’s bi-annual shopping trip. And it was she, not me, who signalled that she was grumpy. Really grumpy.

Arta

Three pics in one day

.... a drink of watter, and $.65 in change ...

My blister pack (read meds) didn’t arrive on Christmas Eve.

My back-up supply of medication was only good for one day, so on Boxing Day, I had to make it to the pharmacy in order to maintain consist good health.

After paying for the meds I asked the pharmacy assistant for a drink of water. The clerk delivered it to me in an over-sized pill bottle.

I threw back the pills, taking out one to be used later and and drank my water.  Then I dropped the pill still in my hand.

 Pills are hard to find on the floor of a pharmacy.

All I could see was a dime at my feet.

Catherine went to her hands and knees looking for it, since neither of us wanted a random person to find it on the floor and put it in their mouth.

Or a random dog.

All Catherine could find on the floor were four more random dimes and a quarter which she gave to me and we memorialized the moment with a picture.

Boxing Day is just that.

... trying on silver as fast as I could
while the others shopped exchanged some gifts ...

A time to get the presents back in a box and off to the store for an exchange.

Tom and Eric had gone out for what they called a man day. 

That means, together they went shopping for the gifts for the women, which did appear under the tree on Christmas Eve.

Catie saw bags with the logo Bleu: comme le ciel and she was madly googling to see what could be in the bags, with Eric in the background calling out, don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t wreck the surprise.

 Too late, she couldn’t stop herself.

Eric still calling out, don’t do it, don’t’ do it, she leaned over to me and said, “Look, all I can find is a retirement place where you can put old people who can no longer be cared for by the family."

This made me hope that there was no blue bag under the tree for me.

Catherine Arta, Catherine Rayanna, Arta Blanche
... sharing happiness and names ...

At night during the Christmas Season, Montreal is beautiful.

Montreal is beautiful any night, but at Christmas time more beautiful than ever.

After shopping we walked along the streets in the cool fresh air.

The wind was giving us an extra chill, but breathing deeply into my chest it felt so good.

So Canadian, filling my lungs with that air and loving the freshness of it.

We may have stopped for a selfie – just to remember that moment of being together in such amazing happiness: the winter coolness, the brightness of the lights, the treasure of being together.

Arta

50% off everywhere

Mary had Monday as a holiday in lieu of Sunday, being November 11th. She and I were on our own for the kids had to go to school. We dropped Rhiannon off and then dropped by the grocery store – no list, except the one in our heads. I think she needed milk, so there was a reason, initially for going.

First we strolled by the pre-made salads that now had 50% off the original price stickers on them. We bought one (or two) of each. Then our path lead to the cheese counter where the mozzarella was the same price – 50% off, and that was on our agenda since we had decided to make pizza in the evening. The PC Coconut and Date Artisan Crisps were $1 a package instead of $7 a package so some of those went in our carts. The tins of tomatoes were significantly cheaper than the pre-made tomato pizza sauce. There wasn’t a corner in the grocery store where we weren’t saving money as well as having a terrific outing. A whole morning can be enjoyably spent doing chores when I am with my loved ones.

Arta

Day Trip to IKEA

Michael with his pencil and IKEA list

Miranda asked if I would like to go on a day trip to IKEA.

She had some items to pick up and I have been longing for a linen towel from there.

I asked at the IKEA is the place.

When Miranda said we were going to have lunch there I wondered what would happen for I have only seen their hot dog line-up on the main floor.

I had no idea of the size or the buffet upstairs or the number of places where people can sit.

The kids seem to know better than me, both what to order and where to sit.

When I was at IKEA the last time with Catherine I was begging her not to buy the cinnamon buns there.

... yes, you can take my picture ...

Catherine said her family doesn’t mind them for they don’t know home made ones so they are more than satisfied with the ones at IKEA.

She says she often picks them up.

I would have stayed up all night to make home made ones, rather than have those come in the house.

On our trip that cute little Johnson family knew the drill: where the food cart was, where to put their plates on it, and how to find the condiments.

... no, I'm not sharing, Grandmudder ...

Some day trips are just wonderful and this was one of them.

Idle Talk with Betty

... my friend, Betty ...

Miranda and I went to Costco. Both Alice and Michael wanted to hop on the cart that I was driving. But before I had begun to move the buggy, they changed their minds and went with their mother. Miranda and I just switched carts and off I went with Betty Blanche. It has been a long time since I have driven a baby around a store. I could see her looking for the rest of her pack, her neck twisting, her eyes darting here and there in hopes of running into them.

We did pass by them at the Dairy section, whoops and hollers coming from both carts, giving each other waves and cheers. The cheers were for my cart as I had already filled up my basket: one super giant package of paper towels and one super giant package of toilet paper and that about fills up a cart. Thereafter, Betty began to bend and turn in her seat, helping me to find space in the cart for the smaller items as I would try to put them in.

I was trying to make our cart seem like more fun that being with her siblings. I didn’t realize I was talking to her all of the time until I said to her, “I have circled the drug isles twice now, Betty, and I can’t find the Olay Ultra Moist bars that are on sale.”

A clerk in the optical section called over her counter to me and said, “They are just over there in the wire cage section.

The Hot Dog Shop.

That is what the kids call the food court at Costco. Miranda waited in one of the long line-ups to buy the food. The very long line-ups. The kids and I sat at a table waiting. Betty Blanche has a short waiting period. Besides that she only had one boot – one of the times when she had kicked off her boot in the car so at least it was in a known space. I couldn't put her down and let her run bootless.   I entertained her with a few cold wet napkins and wiped the dried chocolate from her face with them. She slithered off of the bench and I could see she was going for a discarded French fry she had spotted on the floor. I kicked it aside. I went to the condiment section and filled up small cups with ketchup. I gave her a fork and let her transfer ketchup to her mouth.

“That is OK,” said Miranda when I confessed to her my bad grand-parenting. “In our family we are still in the space where we call ketchup part of the vegetable family.”

On the way home the music in the car was a CD by Sharon, Lois and Braum. Miranda said that the disc owes them no money, for it is constantly played in the car. I listened to “Ballin’ the Jack” among other tunes and I was reminded that I must look up the words and practice them so that we can sing and dance to it, some night after supper.
Maybe tonight.

Arta

CrossIron Mills - another grandparents day

Meighan stands between the arms of a bear
at CrossIron Mills Outlet

I joined Meighan and Ceilidh at CrossIron Mills Mall, a first for me.

I have been reading in the newspaper that there is a free shuttle from the airport to this Mall.  Anita tells me that there are also free shuttles leaving from downtown and even from Market Mall which is a place I could walk to and then take the bus out there.

The only problem would be, could I find my way out of the Mall and back to the bus stop.  And even the question, would I want to leave there.

Ceilidh found the deals -- 30 % off the last clearance price.  I was looking -- just taking the huge expanse of it all in.

Another grandparent's day well played.

Arta

Christmas Shopping

I have two pair of jeans – both used, the best way to get jeans. One fits perfectly, but the other is on my hips and I need a belt, which is going to up the cost of those jeans by a considerable amount, given the jeans were free.

 ... desperate as I was, I just couldn't buy this pink one ...

I doubled up today – a walk to the store for said belt which is two for one: exercise and a new accessory.

My normal size 34 belt doesn’t work, I was prepared to jump one size, but not two, which is what I had to do, I discovered, as I stood there trying on belts at Canadian Tire.

Do I have no shame -- trying those belts on in the isle, seeking one that would do up without having to cinch my body in.

Tim Horton’s is on the corner and Canadian Tire is tucked in behind it. There is always a long line-up of cars at Hortons, even making it dangerous to walk there ... except for today.

No cars at Hortons.

And the Canadian Tire isles were empty, even with their 70% sale.

Rebecca and I have the groceries to make spring rolls, and I thought I might get some butter lettuce to add to them, but no butter lettuce and a sad day when a person goes into the store and there is nothing to buy. I did see some customers at the deli. I think I will do that when I get too old to cook. Just stock up on those lovely salads. But until then, I will be happy with the new belt and hope that it represents how low I am wearing these jeans and not pounds gained around the waist.

I hope I am the only one with this fear.

Arta

9 Grain Cereal

Getting on in years when ...
the best part of a shopping adventure is buying porridge.

When Moiya wrote about her adventure down to the Rogers Mill in Armstrong to learn to make crackers, I remembered that I went on a similar trip with her a few weeks previous to her second trip.  The Rogers  outlet is like a community health food store that specializes in grains and spices.  Hard, really hard, not to walk along the isles and not fill a shopping basket with treasures, like the 9 Grain Cereal that popped into my cart.

I like Red River, oatmeal, Cream of Wheat -- all of the cooked porridges.  They feel like just the right amount of sustenance to get through a morning of hard work.

 I was reading the 9 Grains label, since I have become a label  reader and I wanted to figure out if there were really 9 grains in the package, or if some of them were doubles, ie wheat bran, wheatlets, etc.  The labelling passed the test -- truly 9 grains and with doubles, there are 12 ingredients listed on the package.

What is different about this cooked cereal is the texture of the porridge.  A potpourri of textures:  smooth, rough, silky, slippery, big grains, small grains, the occasional seed or surprise --thanks for the adventure, Moiya.  This is the fourth time I have cooked up the porridge and I am still liking it.

Arta

The Year of the Pig in Gold

“Do not walk alone in places that are unknown to you.” That is what the sign said as I looked down a side alley off of Haiphong Road. And that is what is keeping me from doing an early morning walk all alone. So I laid here thinking about window shopping yesterday.

The gold jewellery in the window is exquisite and reminds me of the gold souks in Dubai, -- at least the amount of gold.

What makes this different is design, especially a choker necklace with the main design being a large pig, three columns of baby pigs hanging 4 deep from the sow’s underbelly. A fantastic tribute to those born in the year of the pig and the first time that I have been sad about being a dragon.

Down one isle of the Ocean Terminal Shopping Centre were a series of display cases, each holding two watching which were each circling 360 degrees, slowly, slowly and the sparkle coming off of the watches was so amazing that Greg, Wyona and I were all drawn in for a closer look.

We talked for a long time about the spectacular design, Greg finally remarking, “All of that and a watch besides.”


Wyona said of the salesmen in high end dark black suits standing near-by, “I bet those young men double as armed guards. I am going to find out the price of one of those watches.” She came back.

“Four million Hong Kong Dollars.”

That math was too hard for me even though I have been dividing every HKD price by 7 to get an idea of the cost in Canadian dollars. Having to work with six zeros at the end of some figure closed me right down for a moment. “That would be half a million dollars,” offered the salesman who had come over now to give Wyona more details on the watches on the pedestals. Exquisite beauty and a joy to look at.
We travelled on to other glass windows. In one shop, the silk skirts of the dresses were billowing, aka the famous Marilyn Monroe shot over the sidewalk grate. We searched to find where the fans were placed – in the far corners of the windows. A shop close by had large, fluffy 3-D clouds hovering down at the mid point of the window – eye-catching, though I can’t remember anything that was in the window except the clouds.

When we passed the diamond watches today, I heard the tone in Greg’s voice change to gruff. He said to Wyona, “This is the last time I will ask you. Do you want one of those watches or not. I am not bringing you back here. Either get it now or never!”

Arta

The Grocery Store

Joaquim is out looking for presents to help the Wisemen out on their visit, which is only six days away. The seven year old has already cried. Apparently a thief has stolen her bicycle which was too small for her now, out of the basement so she has figured out she no longer has a bicycle. Other know that the too-small bicycle is getting refurmished for the younger sister, and a new one is coming with the Wisemen, but she does not know and so had that sad moment.

This is a small town. Not small so much in population, but as in the footprint of the city, for Joaquim and I can walk across it in a brisk 25 minute walk, which walk we took while out looking for Lego. The weather is 15 above and the humidity is 99%, so the light rain leaves umbrella users wondering if they should be putting their umbrellas up or taking them down.

Bonnie and I are going to cook for New Year´s Day. Cooking is harder when you are not in your own kitchen. On the way home from the shopping trip, Joaquim showed me a shop that sells artisan pasta. A lightbulb went on for me. Why would I cook Canadian when I can buy ravioli stuffed with shrimp and artichokes, or ravioli stuffed with spinach and fresh cheese, or ravioli stuffed with veal. I looked through the shelves of the artisan shop for sauces to add. I found a piquant tomato sauce and then an olive sauce, which through translation between the woman who came over to assist us at the freezer and me, I was to learn, just dust the ravioli with the sauce, so as not to loose its delicate taste.

Boil the water and only leave the ravioli in 3 minutes, the clerk warned me through Joaquim. He is having to do a lot of intermediary work. I do not know how his holiday is going, for he has to translate for Bonnie and for me. As well as wanting to know the name of every item in the pasta shop, I wanted to know where to buy the nativity figures that were in the window of the bakery story. Joaquim asked me to come along inside with him while he tired to find out, because for every question I ask, I have four more question that follow. He may have also been wanting to to deflect the craziness of the questions I ask along the way to me instead of people thinking he is the one wanting to know the answers.. I want to know everything about anything I see that is new to me.

I haven´t know the discreet difference between two grocery stores that are on opposite sides of the highway that cuts through the middle of town. I was wondering about the smaller of the two last night when it was closing. Huge cartoons of vegetables and fruits were being transferred into the store, a man running them on a dolly across the highway between surges of traffic

If I was willing to pick up the fruits and vegetables, Joaquim told me, then we could visit the smaller of the stores. He went right to the line up to pay for the groceries and I was to fill the basket he was holding. That is when I discovered the store only carries fruit and vegetables. I took the last of the pineapples available, I didn´t know that the sign above the cherry tomatoes said two for one, and I picked up a large head of celery that was more leaf than stalk and the bitterest celery I have ever tasted.

The mandarins are only 79 Euros a kilogram, but I left those behind, because how much weight can two people really carry in their arms. So we are going for a second trip right now, since everyone is closing up for the festivities around New Year´s Eve.

¨Why are you closing so early today?¨ one patron asked, to which the clerk who couldn´t cash out fast enough to keep the line small retorted, ¨I have a big supper to cook tonight as well as the one you need to cook.¨

The store was so small that I couldn´t get between the isles of food and the patrons so I began to count how many shoppers were there. Thirty in the store at one time, and the area of the store was no bigger than a small barbershop.

We went down to Calella´s Rambla for this is the night when there will be someone who walks the streets giving out candy – a man who has as many noses as there are days in the year. Since this is the last day of the year, he only has one nose, but that nose is something to behold. Along with the candy, he gives out one fake nose to each person who puts out their hand, young or old. Some of the noses were long like Pinocchio´s. Mine was large and Romanesque, a lovely addition to my face. I wore it proudly. Children ran behind him, in front of him and alongside him. His helpers made sure everyone had a nose and a handful of candy.

Arta

Concealer

Thomas told me that I am looking very tired. He is not the only one to say that.

After about 15 such messages from other people, I said to Kelve, “People are telling me I look tired, but you know very well that I could walk the legs off of you. I have so much energy. Still, for some reason, I am looking tired.”

“I agree. You could walk me into the ground. And ... you do look tired,” he said.

“Well, Wyona told me that I look tired and she said to go get some concealer to take that look of weariness out of the bags under your eyes. Oh, maybe it is that you don’t wear glasses anymore,” she continued, “and people are seeing you in a new way – but still – get some make-up -- concealer would do.”

Thus, I stopped by the cosmetic counter at London Drugs, yesterday. I said to the clerk, “Just take a look at my face and sell me the concealer that is going to take away this tired look.”

She got very close.

She touched the skin under my eyes.

She stared a little more and then said, “Your skin tones are fine. I can’t sell you anything that will help. What it looks like is that you have blood pooling under your eyes and you should see your optometrist about that.”

Ah hah!

My two cataract operations.

The trade-off for having the operations ... bruising under my eyes ... that will leave by the end of December, if I am lucky.

When I went to visit Wyona yesterday, she had just come home from shopping.

“Hey,” she said, “I bought you some concealer today.”


Arta