The Quack, issue 282
The time travel edition
Good morning! It’s very nice to see you.
I was looking over my photos from this week, and it seems my mind was on just about every time but the present, which is kind of funny because I’ve been making a deliberate effort be more mindfully present. Not my thing, apparently! The nostalgia runs deep with this one.
Grab a tea. Let’s do this.
It smells like spring
I woke up early one morning this week to find the world covered in fresh sheet of snow. I’d be cursing the persistence of winter, if my nose didn’t tell me we are definitely coming to spring. It just smells like it. The air smells of earth and rain and just a titch of skunk. That’s spring, babay!
The next day was so sunny and bright, and the ground was so dry, Erin busted out her beloved pair of yellow Vans. As sure as the robin slurping worms from the yard, this is a giant sign of spring for me. The start of a new winter will never be as far away from us as it is right now.
Garlic
Last summer’s garlic has lasted terrifically well. What a treat to dig into the deep folds of paper bag in the dark closet off the kitchen to find these perfect heads of garlic, seemingly untouched by age.
Garlic, as previously mentioned in ye olde newsletter, is my favourite garden crop. You plant it in the fall when the earth can still be worked, and it sits under the ground all winter long. Gardening is fuelled by hope at the best of times, but nothing is as hopeful as garlic.
“I’m putting this thing in the ground. It will sit in the dark frozen soil for the next three seasons, under snow and ice, only to emerge to be harvested next summer. And I will store it in a dark, dry place so I can enjoy it for the rest of the year.”
This particular garlic was harvested last August, but it was planted way back in October of 2022. And today, it’s in my soup.
Four years
Everyone seems to have been marking four years since the start of the pandemic. I’ve always had my eyes open for vestiges of those early days. The hastily printed signs that remain on bulletin boards and on business walls reminding us to stand two metres apart. The vinyl arrows on the floor reminding us where to stand or which direction to walk to ensure maximum physical distancing. Pandemic or not, I still think aisles in grocery stores should be one-way only. How absolutely civilized.
This sign has been up on the side of a sporting good store near my house since just before the pandemic. It’s kind of amazing how it perfectly preserves the feeling of that time for me. I was working at UPEI, which was set to host the national university hockey championships. Players had arrived from around the country in the midst of a growing sense of dread that this coronavirus thingy might be worse than we think.
Tuesday morning, I asked my boss if she thought we should start talking about cancelling.
“Absolutely not,” she said confidently. “There is no way this tournament won’t finish.”
The players were all on planes heading home by Thursday.
I tend to think of the early lock-down era as a lovely break from life that we were all unfortunately too scared and stressed out to enjoy. I do remember saying out loud I hoped there were lessons from this era we’d carry forward when it all ended. I especially liked the feeling, for a little while, we were all on the same page.
“I’m just so glad no one has politicized this,” I remember saying.
Long sigh.
Sherlock
Erin found a DVD copy of Sherlock’s third season at Value Village, to the delight of Alice and me. The three of us have a soft spot for this show. I think watching it on DVD is actually the most appropriate way to enjoy this show.
We could stream it on YouTube, I’m sure, but I ended up putting in a request for the first two season at the library. And as I type, I just got the email notification they’ve arrived.
I’ve read a few more modern reviews that say the show doesn’t hold up like we thought it might. There might be a few cringy lines here and there, but I still enjoy it. A nice little comfort watch.
Thanks for hanging out with me this Sunday morning. I’ll have one more story later this morning for members of my Patreon. You can join my quaint little army of supporters at patreon.com/the_quack.
This week was also a Losers Guild week. Chapter 17 of my ongoing adventure podcast is available the second Wednesday of every month. You can find it wherever you listen to podcasts.
Have a great week.