We have been in Edmonton for one month already. How quickly it’s passed, I said. How slow, said my daughter.
Last night I turned on the furnace. I was hoping to hold out to October 1rst, but then asked myself, really, if you’re so cold that you need to pilfer blankets from your mother’s cupboards, shouldn’t you just turn on the heat? Now I have extra blankets AND heat! (Why do they say, “room temperature”, when, truly, it could mean ANYTHING? Yesterday, for instance, room temperature was about 12 degrees C….)
My sister tells me that a bungalow has no upstairs, so my daughter and I are not living in a bungalow. I like the word– it sounds great. The word originates from India, and it’s slid into English usage through the all-reaching effects of colonialism…. Twisted, twisty inheritance. Language….
I was on a panel last week with Derek Walcott who is the current Distinguished Scholar in Residence at U of A. A very interesting (for me) pairing as we are politically and artistically so different. Is there any common ground, here, at all? I wondered. I could feel the split, also, coming off from the audience. Everyone was so polite, but at one point I couldn’t help but turn to Professor Walcott and say, Are you saying that religion is not Political???
Clearly, I am unsuited to be a diplomat.
(But if it paid a lot of money I’d do it with a smile on my face, my fingers crossed behind my back….)