Winter started with a snowstorm which slowed the downtown traffic to
a crawl. University Ave could not be seen any more under the stripes
of white, grey and black. Slush was at all the curbs, threatening to
send you on a wild slip-spin adventure. I dug out my Sorels which I
had inherited from the universe via Toronto Western Hospital, and
wore them every day (sometimes they were so warm my feet would
sweat). I bought a $20 parka from Value Village and wore it
religiously, initially with layers like I am used to in winter, but
finally realising that even a T-shirt with this parka on was too
warm. Amongst other thrift shop bargains I found a $3 woollen scarf
in my favourite lost beige colour (A had a jumper in this shade that
I would steal from him and wear again ad again). So that was my
winter wardrobe, and surprisingly just like the rest of my minimalism
experiment, it is fine just to wear the same things again and again.
As December progressed, the light became more and more lost. I would
go to work in the dark, and most days also go home in the dark.
Looking out the window during the day, a uniform blanket of grey
would greet me. I felt depressed by the weather. At the same time I
worked an insane block of 17 days with just one day off (including 4
24-hour calls). Around this time I felt like everything was
unravelling, like a loose thread pulled so hard that the yarn of your
knitted sweater just starts to disintegrate. Each day I got up
feeling a little worse than the last, and I was afraid that the slip
would not abate. During this time I was so thankful for the small
things that kept my head above water – a little music here and
there, some nice food, P who stepped in and became a steadfast
support. But still, I worried about the strain that struggled to be
contained within me, and about the darkness that threatened to take
over my life. Thankfully this time passed when the physical hardship
of that horrible work arrangement passed. I started to speak to
people about seasonal affective disorder and found that even
Canadians often felt affected by the weather.
I had a wonderful 5 day mini block off over new years. One day I went
out with friend #1 and her sister to Hardwood for cross country
skiing. It was so wonderful to be out in the snowy forest with fresh
snow falling gently. I gave up and snow-walked my way to a rambling
path where I could enjoy the beauty of nature alone. I made a snowman
at the junction of a path, paused to chat with a few people, and
ultimately snow-walked back to the chalet where the hot chocolate had
never tasted so delicious. Another day I went to piano quintets
(Mozart, Dvorak and a little Schumann) but we were so bad the pianist
left in disgust (poor girl, it must be so hard on the soul to be so
serious). We had tea and regrouped as a string quartet, and enjoyed a
little Beethoven. We enjoyed playing so much that we forgot to eat
lunch.
On New Years eve, I had all my friends over for a couch party,
knowing this would be my only new years in Toronto. We started out
mashing at #3’s house, then migrated to my place for endless rounds
of food. We made our own dumplings and savoured them though the skins
were inedibly thick and chewy. A chocolate and ginger cake and a
pineapple upside down cake set each other off well. Then we made
glutinous rice dumplings which turned out much better than expected.
We celebrated the new year with some expensive champagne and
continued talking into the morning, napping in various corners of the
house. The next day the party finished after lunch with a chocolate
fondue, and we went to EE’s house to pick up her piano, the best
welcome to 2017 present.
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