A large part of living off-the-grid, of course, is the challenge and logistics of getting back on to the grid now and again.  Duties, needs, wants and family regularly require that.  And we are now back ‘on’ as I write.  Whoopee.

So much fun.

T’is the season for obligations and that means people and people means ‘the grid’.  Sometimes it feels more like grid lock.

One thing is for sure: I am not yet ‘on my game‘.

Metaphorically speaking, returning to the hubbub of ‘normal’ life is not unlike getting off the children’s merry-go-round and then again having to get back on it while it is still spinning and still filled with children.  Getting back up to ‘normal’ speed is an adjustment.  A hard one.  Every single time.  Sights, sounds, signs, neon, traffic, noise and the ever-present line-up at the cashier – just for starters.  Schedules, appointments, expectations, formalities, social gatherings, shopping and even keeping up with the blog just adds to the madness.

This time it is Christmas that demands such intense engagement.  And we are currently in Victoria trying to catch up to the hectic pace so that we can jump back on the ride.  We are still a bit slow.  But we’ll get there.  Let the festive traditions begin!

Interesting to me: Victoria now seems like ‘hectic’.  When we lived in Vancouver, Victoria was very ‘small town‘.

Of course, the tradition begins and ends with trips to Costco.  Coming and going.  Is that not a weird thing in itself?  Feels weird to me. Scrooge-like, if you know what I mean? Dickens would be appalled, I’m sure.  I am appalled!

Sal started the acclimation process off with the traditional opening line:

“Before we get to my mum’s, don’t forget to stop at Costco.  We need to get some dogfood and my mom always likes flowers.  Gotta get a few housewarming gifts.  And you can gas-up while we are there.”

“Right!  Ho Ho Ho.  T’is the the season, eh”?

“What are you going on about, now?”

“Sorry.  Just trying to get in the mood.”

“What mood?”

“You know, the buying, eating, drinking, chatting and smiling mood that is now so foreign to me.  I was never very big on the smiling and chatting thing but I had buying, eating and drinking down pat.  Not so much these days.  It all seems like too much.  Know what I mean?”

“Not really.  You’ve always been a bit of a humbug but I must admit that it does feel like a sensual assault now.  I can barely think straight when I am in Costco.  And there is no way I could drive.  I am glad you are driving.”

That makes two of us.

Maybe it is just age.  I’ll be 64 in a month.  It doesn’t feel very old.  But I must admit that it doesn’t feel too spring chicken-ish, either.

You know what they say when playing football, eh?  “The game doesn’t really start til you take the first hit.  Gets ya into the game.”  And that is the way it is.  Just a different game.

When I was in Costco getting ‘whacked out’ by the lights, the people and all the stuff, I wandered over to look at something I was never going to buy.  It was just shiny and I reacted like a Magpie.  Mesmerized clueless by a stainless steel Cuisinart.  When I got my focus back I returned to find that someone had taken our cart!

I looked around for awhile, of course, before coming to that conclusion because, at 64, it is just as likely that I ‘lost it’  rather than it was stolen.  But, after awhile, I knew it wasn’t me and so I headed off to look at other people’s carts.

That is some kind of weirdness in itself.

As I was peering under the first layer of goods in someone else’s basket, I caught a glimpse of the cart I used to call my own and a strange woman (about my age) was at the helm.  I grabbed the cart as she attempted to pass.  I glared at her.

I was starting to feel urban again.

“Oh my God, it is you!”  Her eyes were big.  She looked guilty.  And she knew instantly who I was and what this transgression was going to mean for her.

I looked coldly into her eyes and said curtly, “Damn straight!”

” I am so sorry.  I accidentally took your cart.  Oh, God, I feel like such a fool!”

” Accident!?”  I shrieked.  “I don’t think so.  You wanted my socks.  I know that look!”  

“What?”  I had her off-balance.  Her guilt morphed to stunned.  I was getting my stride back.

“You’ve got some ‘splaining to do lady.  This is bad.  Real bad!  I’ve already called Costco security.  You have the right to remain silent.”  

She looked horrified.  And not a little bit frightened.  But then Sal ruined it.

“What are you saying, you old fool!  Now just take the cart and stop making trouble.”  She turned to the lady with a ‘we-are-sisters’ look and was beginning to try to explain my behaviour.

That is not easy but she has had a lot of practice.

” OK!  But I’ll be watching you, lady.”  And I headed off to find another victim.  The game was afoot.

And I was getting into my stride.  This ‘city thing’ ain’t so hard.  You just have to pick on innocent and weaker people and act like Dirty Harry.