Trying something a little different. Rather than a few lines about each day of the week… opening with a few paragraphs that either sum up the week as a whole or highlight something about it all. A little writing will end off each post… still either story, rant or poem.
The work week was fairly normal… for what passes as normal as of late. A few annoyances… A couple of lunches with friends… And a nice end to the week as the system goes down at 2:00 and management decide to send us home an hour early.
Weather is oddly nice for November. Two days this week go above 20 degrees. Funny how the day I get the snow tires put on the car is the hottest day of the week. I’m out strolling in short sleeves as I wait for the car to be ready.
The weekend is quiet for me. It’s one thing I still haven’t gotten fully used to after leaving the twelve hour shift of CPSIC. Four days off each time was a nice get away from things. But now, back to the regular weekend, things seem more rushed. Less time to get the things I liked to do done. On two days off, time away seems too short. With four days off, even though the first day was pretty much a waste due to sleeping half of it away and feeling jet lagged for the other half, it stood as a quiet day of rest. And then the next day I’d wake up free to do what I’d like… with two other days to follow.
I enjoy the work I’m doing now. And an eight hour workday is nice. My body appreciates the more normal sleep patterns and I don’t have to piece together which day of the week it actually is. But man… those weekends fly by.
Little More Than a Month
Little more than a month
Recent Christmases
Down to the wire
Arriving on the Eve
Once three days later
After that Christmas morn
Was as any other workday
This year’s different
Arriving mid month
With plenty of time to shop
Wandering downtown streets
Browsing Water Street stores
Hunched and tensed against sea winds
Before ducking in for pub lunches
A deep sigh upon entry
The unzipping of outer layers
A careful removal of wool caps
Making sure wet snow stays controlled
Knocked off at the entrance
Less entrance and more airlock
Mid zone between winter winds and pub warmth
Sometimes these trips are with parents
As we cling to packages and bags
Meant for viewing on the twenty-fifth
Stopping in for soup and tea
Sustenance for the everlasting fight
Against howling wet winds
There cursed but here reminisced over
Other times a trip with friends
With lots to say and hear
Catching up on old times
And filling in on new
As Guinness froths settle
Into the blackness of the glass
A pint to go with stews or chowder
My Christmas trip home is near
In Spring or Fall, times at home are split
Partially in the city
Before venturing out to the outports
But Christmas is a city time
St. John’s getting full attention
As I set plans with family and friends
And look forward to a day or two
Where weather erases all plans
FIreplaced living room brings quiet chats
Windows are wandered upon
And the outside world is analysed
As serpentine snows sweep the street
And homes across the street fade into white
For this is Christmas
Wanderings along the downtown streets
Lunches and pints with family and friends
And days of surrender
Where the house is all there is
And family sits together by the fire
As snowy winds howl down the street where I grew up.
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