Breath Clouds

It’s Tuesday in Friendly Manitoba.  I say “Friendly” with a certain amount of irony as I have yet to find it particularly friendly.  It’s more of an indictment of this area than it is of the whole of Manitoba.  This isn’t just Tuesday though; it’s first Tuesday and that means grocery shopping.

My extreme desire to hang on to what little bit of sanity I have left dictates that I wait in the truck whilst Kat, armed with a list and a shopping cart, forages through aisles designed to entice and promote conspicuous consumption.  I’ll probably be made to regret saying this, but the way she shops drives me up the freakin’ wall.  She pores over each and every item, compares prices, reads labels, and checks ingredients.  Me, well, I grab whatever I remember putting on the list, grab a few things that aren’t on the list, and get the hell out of there in minimal time.  If I forget something, I either don’t need it or will catch it another day.

Kat apologizes for the extended periods I spend waiting for her to finish.  That’s endearingly aggravating.  I figure apologies should be used sparingly and only for offenses that at least border egregious.  To tell you the truth, which I try to do every now and then, I don’t mind waiting.  I have never confused being alone with being lonely.  I enjoy being alone.  I like my own company.  Generally, I agree with whatever I’m saying so there is no reason to argue.  Watching the teeming masses pass by is at least as entertaining as a cage full of monkeys.  When all other avenues of entertainment are exhausted, there is always talk radio.   

When I first came up here, I had the distinct impression that Canadians didn’t like Americans.  The longer I’m up here, the more I realize that first judgments, especially when based on little information, are often wrong.  It would probably be safe to say the folk in this neck of the woods aren’t fond of Americans, but they’re not fond of anyone outside their cliquish existence.  Actually, considering how they talk behind each other’s backs, I’m not sure they are all that fond of each other.

I’m thinking that most Canadians consider us Americans to be kinfolk; kinfolk that live on the wrong side of the tracks, are a bit impolite, and sometimes uncouth.  All of that said, we are kin and blood is thicker than water.  I think they like us a whole lot better now that we had the good sense to elect Obama. 

Speaking of Obama, which I sort of was, he is catching a lot of hell from the Republicans.  Less than two months into his administration, they seem to be doing their level best to load the responsibility of this financial mess directly onto his shoulders.  That takes some brass ones, but the right has never been short of brass.

I’m not smart enough to know if this stimulus thing is going to do one whit of good.  I hope to hell it does.  I’m surely not going to make book on the odds, though.

The number of good, God-fearing, conservative Christians piling it on Obama gives me a certain amount of pause.  Seems to me they should be praying the President receive wisdom, courage, and divine guidance to help him make the proper decisions.  It’s something that … well, makes me wonder.

Life is sweet – because I walked outside today and didn’t see breath clouds.