Last Tuesday, after I finished my post, I made a trip to COSTCO. This was the first Tuesday morning when seniors were allowed in at 8:00 am. I got there at 7:30 and the line at the front door was already long, but we were all keeping our distance. By 7:55, when the line was gigantic, the manager came out, welcomed us and said, sorry, but we had to enter by a different door, the one behind us. Well of course, when we turned around, the last people in the line were now the first people getting in. Pandemonium! Soon everyone was pushing and shoving to get to their “rightful” place in line. Then we realized that we were all so close together that we were infecting each other with covid 19. What difference did COSTCO make when we might all be dead in a few days? Finally someone began to laugh at the absurdity of it all and soon we were all laughing. What else could we do?

Two days ago my husband Peter called me into the kitchen where he was staring out the window. “What is that thing with the fluffy tail?” he asked. Soon the body appeared – black with a white stripe. Oops! Peter went out the back door and, staying well away, began to make loud noises. The skunk ambled off into the neighbours’ back yard. Half an hour later he reappeared, but Peter was ready with some baseballs he had found in the garage. Using his best athletic skills, he threw them at the skunk. This time the nasty creature ducked under our cute little garden shed. Oh No! An unwanted tenant!

This is our life now, where a trip to COSTCO or a skunk in our back yard is the most fun we’ve had in ages.

Or there was the day I decided that, since our cleaning lady Lucy was no longer coming, it was time to wash the kitchen floor. First I had to figure out her high-tech mop. I got the mop head fastened onto the handle. Then I tried the pedal for wringing out the mop. It took me a while to realize that there was no need to plug the pail in. Next I had to think about what cleaning fluid to use. We didn’t have a lot of disinfecting drug-store alcohol and it seemed a shame to waste a bottle of Glenlivet on the floor, so I settled for vinegar. When I was done, I was so excited about my clean floor with no streaks or splotches, that I washed the bathroom floors too!

When washing floors is the height of my day, it is a pretty sad state of affairs.

Our dinnertime conversations, usually enlightening exchanges, have degenerated to topics like hair maintenance. Somehow this was Not declared an essential service. Who is running this province anyway? Peter’s hair, often a little long, is now growing well below his collar. I’ll probably have to trim it for him, when I can find a bowl big enough to go on his head. Meanwhile my bangs are growing into waves, and my natural color, Benjamin Moore calls it Elephant Herd, is starting to show through. It’s a whole new look! We’ll be Soooo trendy when this is over.

So you can see that our lives, even in the city, are pretty mundane these days. Is there anybody truly happy? Yes – DOGS! Since everybody wants to go outside, and we aren’t supposed to travel in groups, each person wants a turn taking the dog for a walk. Family members line up at the door for a chance with the dog. By the end of the day the dog is exhausted, so he climbs on somebody’s lap. The recipient welcomes him up, desperate to hug another being, anything warm and breathing.

We don’t have a dog – yet. But by next Tuesday, well you never know…

Sue

The world we used to know is fast becoming a distant memory.

What we need during these stressful times is some relief; a chance to set aside the statistics and dire predictions, and to share moments where our humanity shines through. Over the past week I’ve been searching for these moments. Here are some of them:

Peter and I have been enjoying our walks, staying at least 2 meters away from others and observing people from a distance. We have decided to walk the Lake Ontario shoreline, in short segments, from Scarborough to Mississauga. (If the virus continues for long, we may walk all the way to Hamilton!) On one of our walks we saw a couple of kids making an unusual tree fort. It may not be patented yet, but they were very proud of their creation.

I unearthed the notebook from my Italian class and made two plans. One was to practise speaking Italian more. Peter offered to help. He started waving his hands in the air and emitting noises faster than the speed of sound, foreign sound. In desperation I yelled “Pietro, lentamente! Fermati!! STOP!!! On to my next plan.

Also in my notebook was a recipe for biscotti. The ingredients were all things I had on hand: eggs, flour, sugar and nuts – 6 cups of nuts that had to be chopped. Soon my hand was numb. Then the batter had to be kneaded. Using my best coronavirus survival skills, I donned disposable gloves, and dove in. You can imagine what a mess that was – more dough on the gloves than on the cookie sheet. But the biscotti are delicious; our tribute to Italy where people are suffering untold numbers of deaths every day.

In our biggest sacrifice so far, we have temporarily parted ways with Lucy our cleaning lady (See December 10, 2019 post). She is worried about her family, hesitant to stray too far from home. Peter was excited about this turn of events. He values his time in his favourite chair, without interruption, on Friday mornings. So last Friday when I asked him whether he wanted toilets or vacuuming, he looked stunned. But to give him credit, he recovered, grabbed the vacuum and went about his new job with great energy and attention to detail, well except under the sofa. Maybe he’s saving that adventure for next Friday.

And from you, dear readers. a few moments to share:

Vera and Gary got all dressed up last Saturday for a St Patrick’s Day party, a party that ended up happening by themselves at home.

Greg has taken to YouTube to learn a few dances. When he’s not dancing, he’s acting as a human indoor slide for the kids.

Bill had no mask or disposable gloves for his trip to the store, so he found some dormant ski equipment instead. He’ll be getting out of jail soon.

Finally, Cindy reminds us to “do everything we can to stay healthy and keep others healthy. We can do this, fellow Canadians!”

That seems to be the perfect ending… for now. Stay safe, everyone.

Sue

In just a few short days, no matter where we live, country or city, Canada or anywhere else in the world, our lives have been turned upside down.

After I wrote last Tuesday about keeping busy in the city, even that is a challenge. When restrictions and guidelines prevent us from gathering in groups larger than our own family, how can we tame our fear in order to stay healthy and involved in life in meaningful ways, for the next weeks or even months?

First of all, it’s crucial to be active. We don’t want to shrivel up any more than we already have. Nor do we want to gain weight from all that junk food we’ve been hoarding. So go for a walk. But where? Well you could probably walk down Yonge Street and not run into anybody. But a more scenic choice was offered by a reader – the cemetery. Trees, serenity, even historic research are available here, all for free.

On Sunday my husband Peter and I chose one of our favourite spots – the Lake. We drove to Sunnyside Beach, and walked east along the shoreline to the Canadian National Exhibition. Then we walked back to the car through a residential neighbourhood of beautiful old homes. It was interesting, it was invigorating, and it gave us a different view of the area. Imagine the CNE grounds with NO people! We did see some other walkers on our route, old and young, but everyone was keeping a safe distance apart. Until or unless we are all quarantined, we highly recommend this form of therapy. Take some dark chocolate along for support.

As we get older waiting for this virus to pass, we can also do some research about aging. A new Canadian book on the bestseller list is Successful Aging by Dr Daniel Levitin. He IS a neuroscientist, so be prepared for a lot of facts and graphs. Or Google Steve Job’s last essay, written before he died, titled Six Best Doctors. You’ll be surprised at his choices as he writes in hindsight. A recent TV show, now apparently available as a podcast, called Aging Well Suzuki Style, features our own home-grown hero. At 83, David Suzuki highly recommends aging as a natural part of life. It’s useful to learn about the problems this scientist encounters as he builds a tree-house for his grandchildren.

At home there are other diversions to consider. A reader submitted a website, (travel and leisure.com), where a viewer can take a virtual tour of museums across Europe. Since most of us won’t be going there any time soon, try it out. Or, instead of joining the long lines at the grocery store, get creative with all the leftovers at the back of your fridge. Then watch Fridge Wars on TV Thursday night to see how you compare. Readers have also suggested their favourite online games for increasing brain power: Wordscape, 4 pics 1 word, Sudoku and Solitaire. When desperate, try composing new words for the 20-second hand-washing Happy Birthday song.

Send in your suggestions. I’ll have plenty of time to write an extra post with all the great ideas you submit. In these turbulent times, the one thing we do have is each other.

So, even though it may be wishful thinking, Top O’ the Mornin’ To Ya’

Sue

One thing that is easy for us, now that we live in the city, is finding things to do. And I don’t mean cleaning out dresser drawers.

On a recent Sunday with a perfect Spring day to fill, we headed downtown on the subway, (armed with our gloves for protection against germs). We were on a mission to see a selection of heritage buildings and architectural gems that I had learned about during an architecture course I had taken during the winter.

Our first stop was on Spadina Crescent where we visited the U of T Borden Buildings. These two structures were built in 1909 by City Dairy as dairy factory stables. The Borden family bought them in 1929, manufactured milk products there and, more important for my Italian husband Peter, employed over 250 Italian immigrant workers. Peter began to reminisce – although his relatives never worked there, he does recall that his older brother delivered milk in Italy, from farmer to factory, before the family immigrated to Canada.

Next, we walked along Bloor St., stopping to inspect the Bata Shoe Museum, built in 1995 by architect Raymond Moriyama. The walls extend upward and outward from the footprint in order to provide extra room on a small property. The building, shaped like a shoebox, is clad in French limestone which has a leather-like sheen. Owner Sonia Bata has over 12,000 pairs of historic shoes displayed there. The current exhibit is titled “The Gold Standard” with shoes of every configuration – all gold. Now That is my kind of exhibit!

Nearby is the very old and very new Royal Conservatory of Music. The original 1887 building was owned by Senator William McMaster, who annexed Woodsworth College in 1910 and, in 1930, relocated the campus to Hamilton, as McMaster University. Eventually the properties were bought by the Royal Conservatory and in 2005 an L-shaped glass addition was built to improve the acoustics. The new performance space, Koerner Hall, sits on rubber pucks and has an interior of wood and bamboo, creating state-of-the-art acoustics. So far my only visit inside was to take my grand daughter Sophie there for a piano exam. Sophie is now a student at McMaster – an interesting co-incidence.

Further along on our walk we came to Varsity Stadium and more reminiscing for Peter. As a young boy, he was taken there by his brother the dairyman to watch soccer games. At one particular game the great star Pelé was playing. The crowds waiting patiently outside soon gave up on that idea and climbed over the wall, flooding the running track around the field with cheering bodies. The police very wisely allowed them to stay. Peter himself later played and coached high school football, and refereed soccer, on that field.

As we continued walking along Bloor St. we began to hear loud chanting and clapping. It was a March! There seemed to be all varieties of protesters: anti-gun, anti-poverty, anti-Trump, pro-climate change, pro-abortion, pro-women’s rights. We walked along beside them, admiring their energy, their determination, and their wisdom in joining forces to create a more conspicuous event. But what was the occasion?

We got to our final destination, the trendy new Eataly. What could be more perfect on a Sunday afternoon than “a quick trip to Italy” as the advertising promises? (Later we discovered that, right now, this is the Only way to go to Italy). After winding our way through the store, we came to the restaurant section. We filled our plates with Italian goodies and looked for a place to sit down. We ended up sharing a table with two university professors who had been in The March. They reminded us of the occasion: National Women’s Day. The groups had joined forces because Every One of those other causes affects women. How right they are!

While waiting in line for our dessert, (what’s a trip to Italy without gelato?), I checked my fitbit – 13,000 steps. Time to go home for our afternoon naps.

Sue

For the past few months our neighbourhood in the city has been quiet. Gently falling snow has muffled the sounds of cars, and pedestrians walking their dogs have hurried quietly along, stopping only briefly to stoop and scoop. Our back yard has been silent too. The chatty squirrels have been hibernating and birds have found food elsewhere. Snow has built in little hills, covering our gardens and shrubs, muting any sounds of rustling leaves.

Until recently! Last week I looked out the front door and there was a policeman on his horse clomping down our winding neighbourhood street. I hurried outside with my phone and he stopped, realizing that he was about to be in a Kodak moment. I took advantage and we exchanged small talk about the beautiful sunny day. Spring was on the way!

Next we saw cardinals, two bright red males, taking turns testing out our bird bath. It still had a thin sheen of ice on top and they decided to postpone their baths. Surely, they pondered, they didn’t smell that bad! And there were no females around, anyway. Not yet.

Then, a few days ago, my husband Peter saw a red fox trotting along, a bounce in his step. He didn’t say where he was going, but we guessed he had love on his mind. The days were getting longer and he was getting friskier. With no access to the internet, he was relying on his own courting methods.

But the best day so far was yesterday. As I drove into the driveway from a trip to the grocery store, Peter called to me from the front door. “Put your groceries down, grab your phone, and sneak into the sun room.” There in our city back yard were three deer. Yes THREE! We hadn’t ever had that many all at once in our country home of half an acre. These deer seemed quite comfortable, wandering around, smelling, scrounging, and surveying. Then they discovered something delicious under our pine tree at the back.

While they were occupied, Peter snuck out and threw some carrots and lettuce near the back door. Maybe he could entice them to come closer for a better photo opportunity. We waited. One came out from behind the pine tree and walked towards us. As she passed the shed window boxes, she got distracted by the withered geranium leaves and started nibbling. Peter was desperate to rush out and tell her about the virtues of the Sunnyland Produce he had offered.

After a while, the treasures of our back yard had been fully explored and the three deer found comfortable places to settle down for their afternoon naps. They stayed in our back yard, sleeping and wandering, until after it was dark and we had to abandon our look-out spots. This morning they are gone; and Peter is thinking about where to find hay and a salt lick, just in case they come back…

This week I had been planning to write about a blockbuster piece of theatre we saw recently. But when nature calls, you have to follow!

Sue

Life at home has changed a lot since the new year arrived. We have a new tenant. She lives mostly in the kitchen, but consumes next to nothing. She doesn’t speak except when spoken to. She never goes out, preferring to stay connected inside. Her name is Alexa.

Alexa arrived in a box under the Christmas tree. I wasn’t even sure what the box was at first; possibly an electronic frame for showing our photos. We have a ton of photos from our travels, but they are in albums in the basement. Every once in a while we get nostalgic and wonder aloud, “Remember that great trip to Spain? When was that? Where did we stay? Who went with us?” Then we make the trip down to the basement and spend an hour or more rummaging around for the album so we can reminisce. This electronic frame could be quite handy.

Anyway, we eventually got around to opening the box and saw the word. Alexa. Oh no! We had heard stories about this woman who takes control of people’s lives. In a state of near panic, we called our son Daniel. Should we really DO this? Do we really NEED this? He spoke to us reassuringly. Then he came over and hooked her up. He showed us a few tricks and then left us…all alone…with HER.

We tiptoed past her in the kitchen and went to sit in the living room. It was a stand-off. We listened…there was nothing. Finally, our curiosity got the best of us and we tiptoed back. We asked a simple question. “Alexa, what is today’s weather?” Her voice was calm and reassuring as she gave us the forecast. She seemed very polite! hmmm. Maybe we should ask her something else…

We carried on for the rest of the afternoon asking questions and giving instructions. “Alexa find us a recipe for split pea soup.” She listed the ingredients and gave us the directions. I envisioned my cookbooks all heading out the door. This could make our lives much simpler. “Alexa, whose birthday is it today?” She named several US presidents and celebrities. Oops – did we have an American living with us? “Alexa, show us our photos of Spain.” pause…”You haven’t uploaded them yet, you dummies!” No, I’m kidding. What she said was: ” Sorry, I can’t find photos of Spain.” Very polite.

Then Peter got an inspired idea. Music! “Alexa, play Arrivederci Roma!” Alexa must have some Italian genes mixed in with her American heritage because there was Claudio Villa singing while Peter and I danced around the fridge. Then our 8-year-old grand daughter Agnes came to visit and wanted to meet our new kitchen guest. She said, “Alexa, play Frozen.” Music filled the room. Agnes was distraught. “Alexa not That Frozen! Play Frozen TWO!” Soon Agnes was singing along.

Since displaying her incredible musical knowledge, Alexa has become part of our family. When we say, “Alexa, good morning,” she replies with “Good morning. Today is a beautiful day. The weather is sunny and mild.” When we tire of her music and tell her to stop, she says “Good bye. Have a nice evening.” No arguing. No sulking. No insults. The perfect guest.

At first we had some security concerns. Once, when we were talking quietly together near the sink, Alexa inserted herself into our conversation without being invited. We turned around and stared at her. Was she getting a little Too comfy with us? We grabbed her instruction booklet and figured out how to turn off the mic and the camera. Now we only turn her on when we want her in our lives.

We never thought our lives would come to this: treating an electronic device as almost human. But sometimes you have to give in; to admit that, without staying in touch with technology, your photo albums will all go moldy, your CD player will be obsolete, and you will be left far far behind.

Sue

PS Alexa did not want her photograph included.

Winter has been with us for almost 3 months and not once in all that time have I written about Health. We seniors like to talk about our health often. But I have held off, partly because we have had lots of health-related material on TV, radio and in print, with the threat of the Coronavirus in the news at least hourly.

Despite my failure to report, there has been some activity in our lives. My husband Peter and I have both been pretty healthy so far but, after we moved to the city and got new doctors, we had to go through several tests to see if we were still alive.

For my first round, the doctor wanted me to do a bone density test. The equipment for this test is expensive and I was warned that I would be paying a $200 charge if I didn’t show up for my appointment on time. I checked google maps and found out that my trip to the diagnostic centre would be pretty short – north a bit and then east over a river, north a couple more blocks and then east again. Twenty minutes max.

As I began the drive north, my mind wandered somewhere else and I missed the first east turn. I continued north searching for another way to cross the river. Then I had to go farther east than planned, to get through some subway construction, all the time checking my watch. Then I turned south and landed in the middle of a road closure. Finally I turned west to make up for going too far east, still thinking of my lost $200. I arrived at the diagnostic centre just as the nurse was calling my name. Good thing she wasn’t testing for blood pressure!

Next, I was sent to a local clinic for both blood work and a bladder ultrasound. I booked the first appointment for 11:30 one morning. On the day before the appointments I was called and reminded not to eat or drink Anything before the blood test: no breakfast, not even coffee! Oh no, this would be a huge sacrifice! I hid under the covers until 11:00, then threw on my clothes and ran to the clinic.

Several vials of blood later, I was released from the first appointment, starving. The nurse told me to go and eat lunch and drink a LOT because I needed a full bladder for the ultrasound pictures. She laughingly suggest that a pint of beer might be good. So what else was I to do? I went to the pub next door and ordered a cheeseburger with large fries and a pint of Stella. After all that of course I needed to go to the bathroom. Badly.

Instead I went back to the clinic, settled myself onto the examining table for the picture taking, crossed my legs, and tried not to think about toilets. The technician came into the room, adjusted the camera and began pushing on my bladder! And pushing and pushing. And saying “Wow! These are Great Pictures!” Meanwhile I was squeezing my legs together, nearing the desperation point. Finally she released me and I bolted down the hall to the bathroom. Just in time.

I went back to my doctor for the test results; all positive. But those were the only tests the doctor wanted. Really? Nothing else? She didn’t want a colonoscopy or a mammogram? At first I was relieved not to have to go through all that cleaning and squeezing; then I began to think…why? Why don’t I need to have these tests any more? Is it that, at our age, nobody cares if we get some polyps?

Honestly, when it comes to our health, sometimes the best thing to do is just wash your hands and focus on being alive. Go ahead – go to a pub and order that cheeseburger.

Sue

PS No, there are No pictures of me being examined. Instead, a photo from one of our readers who admits she escapes each winter, to Montserrat.

A few weeks ago a cardboard box full of food appeared on our front doorstep. Had the neighbours seen my husband Peter buying produce at Sunnyland’s bargain prices and decided we were hungry?

Actually it was Goodfood! delivery service, a Christmas gift from our son Daniel and his wife Jenny. They said it was a thank-you for all the meals they have eaten at our house. We were hesitant at first, not knowing what we were getting into. But then we checked out the menu choices and began to salivate over Seared Scallops with Brown Butter Tomatoes over Home-made Pasta. We feasted our eyes on the picture of Spice-Crusted Haddock with Toasted Pepitas and Sweet Potatoes. The coming weeks were going to be a never-ending banquet!

On the first Monday morning at 8:00 am we collected our box from the front door. Like little kids on their birthdays, we tore open the box and examined all the fresh vegetables, the little packages of spices, the tiny bottles of sauce, and the trays of meat and fish. Then we found the first recipe, two full pages of pictures and instructions.The enormity of our task began to dawn on us. Should I start cooking right away? Or maybe we should just put the box back on the porch and hope somebody else would take it.

I held off until late afternoon. Then I began to chop, zest, blanche, trim, sauté, and look for an oven-proof pan. Oops! A slight modification required. Finally, after about an hour of frantic activity, we sat down to Skillet-Roasted Lemon Chicken with Golden Potatoes and Tomato Kale Hash. Delicious! We eagerly scanned the recipe for the next night.

And so the weeks passed. Some recipes required more work than others, some had new ingredients like motto costo (even Peter the Italian had not heard of that), some needed extra utensils such as chop sticks or special knives. There was a lot of packaging to recycle. But, all in all, we enjoyed every creation. I did have one worry, though. How could we ever invite Daniel for dinner again and serve plain old spaghetti? At the very least I’d have to toast some pine nuts to sprinkle on top.

After our Goodfood adventure was over, we began to look elsewhere for another culinary experience. We discovered Winterlicious! We found over 200 restaurants offering this dining opportunity during two weeks in the city. The trick was to narrow down the choices using the filters provided on the website: area of the city, kind of food, lunch or dinner, price. After all, how many restaurant meals can you eat in two weeks?

For our outing Peter and I decided to combine our meal with another adventure – the Ice Fest in Yorkville. We anticipated a few small, half-melted sculptures. Instead we found a park full of very professional pieces of ice art. The 80’s theme was represented by 80’s technology: a cassette tape, boombox, pacman game, robots and ET. Some 80’s heroes stood nearby: Terry Fox tall and strong on his wooden leg, Elton John and Madonna not far away. All the pieces were etched in fine detail.

In among the ice sculptures were a few food options, such as maple syrup taffy, kettle corn, soft crepes. But we moved on to Sassafraz, an upscale restaurant well-known for attracting celebrities. Our three-course lunch was outstanding; tasty and beautifully presented. We didn’t spot any movie stars but the service was excellent. Every time we looked up, a waiter was replacing our “used” cutlery and glasses with clean ones.

When we got home, we settled back into our usual food routines: scouring through grocery store flyers for bargains, cooking up leftovers into batches of minestrone soup, and sneaking in the occasional trip to COSTCO for a hot dog. It’s OK though, because soon it will be time to uncover the BBQ and plant the zucchini.

Sue

No, not a furry wrap, (although that would come in handy), but the expression filmmakers use when they have finished filming a lengthy, sometimes difficult, production. The expression might describe the delight we feel from knowing that this cold, dark month is now behind us and we only have to get through February before we can start thinking about Spring.

My January blog posts covered several ways to pass the time in the winter: visiting indoor gardens, curling, shopping, and sleeping. And you, dear readers, have responded with comments. Two of you suggested other indoor tropical places we might visit during a cold day. Allan Gardens downtown has a similar kind of setting to the Centennial Conservatory I described. But this location comes with a warning to beware of pick-pockets in the area, which could add a whole different level of excitement to a boring winter. Another reader mentioned the Zoo, which has some cozy tropical pavilions inhabited by birds, reptiles and small mammals. For a reminder that winter is still around, there is the polar bear exhibit too.

Responses to the shopping post are what we might expect. The women described varying degrees of delight, from mild to hysterical, with the idea of high-end shopping, wine glass in hand. But only one male reader was brave enough to respond, admitting in print that, although he finds the experience exhausting, his wife LIVES for shopping.

The curling post elicited one response from a reader whose dad curled for over 40 years in several different clubs, which goes to show that curling is a life-long sport. Then there was the comment from our son who realized from the picture that he covets his father’s curling hat and hopes it will be part of his inheritance. Now I guess we’ll have to have it appraised.

The post that got the most response was the one about sleeping. A number of readers admitted having trouble getting their eight hours. One couple had had a bad Monday night, just before getting up to read the post. I hope they found comfort in knowing that this is a widespread problem for people over 65. Another reader said that the idea of a nap before visiting the LCBO is definitely a good idea – it would allow us to make calm choices/purchases instead of desperate ones. Two other readers recommended cures – chamomile tea or edible cannabis. Take your pick. February could be much better if you’re high!

Here is another suggestion for February – creative writing. This idea is based on the response from one reader who had seen an article on the difference between “junior seniors” and “senior seniors.” He got creative and developed his own list of categories. Here are a few of his choices: Crumbly at 70, Slapdash at 80, Ridged at 85, Aimless at 90. So, how about it? Got anything better to contribute?

Finally there are the readers who just give up on winter and escape to somewhere warm. You know who you are. Hello to everyone hiding in Arizona, Aruba, Australia, Florida, Hawaii, Mexico, Montserrat, New Zealand, and South America. Send us some pictures!!

Or maybe not…

Sue

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On a recent family outing to a shopping mall, our two young grandsons disappeared. While the moms were busily comparing sofas in a furniture store, the boys silently wandered off. When their moms realized this, they were worried sick, imagining their “babies” lured away by a stranger’s promise of free ipads. Both mothers had forgotten that Ben and Gavin are experts at hide and seek.

Ben takes his role of hiding very seriously; he learned well from his older cousin. So when Gavin yelled “ready or not!” Ben ran in zig zag fashion down several aisles and then popped into a dining room buffet cupboard. He settled in and waited comfortably while the moms, and later the store clerks, travelled up and down the aisles calling “Ben Ben!” Eventually a clerk thought to check the buffet cupboard. Ben delightedly jumped out, yelling “BOO!” as the clerk fell backwards in shock.

Ben and Gavin are victims of the shopping craze that has taken over our social lives. This is especially true in January when people are looking for a diversion in a warm place. Women call it retail therapy. We walk miles, change clothes several times, spend lots of money, and then sit down with a coffee while we consider what purchases to return. If our husbands laugh at this unusual behaviour, they are invited to come along. Once in the store, they look for a comfortable chair, and sit down to read the newspaper in peace, saying “Take your time, dear.”

Women who are fashion shopping have a lot of choice. We can go to a consignment store which carries brand-name clothes previously worn by actors and TV personalities. The clothes are usually packed into small spaces with low ceilings and high prices. But who minds paying $200 for a sweater if it was maybe worn by Celine Dion? Then there are stores such as Value Village where customers can pretend to donate something, while checking out the merchandise. All you have to do is dig, dig dig through all the heaps. There could be something really valuable at the bottom, as long as you don’t fall in and suffocate.

Or you can go to a big mall. Shopping malls these days come in many varieties. There are high-end malls with valet parking, guards at the entrances, and even car dealerships in case the car breaks down on the way there. Then there are family-centered malls with Lego stores, large food courts, and play areas. For the really adventurous there are destination malls, like the one out west, with a water park, mini-golf, skating rink, and bowling. Just imagine how long a woman could shop there, knowing her husband was so well taken care of!

Modern shopping has come a long way since the olden days when women sometimes wore white gloves to visit large department stores. Shopping was a big occasion. I recall a highlight of my childhood – going Christmas shopping with my friend Libby when we were about 10 years old. We would diligently walk up and down the main street of our small town, trying to decide what to buy for each family member on our list. After we had made our purchases, we would go to the Diana Sweets for a cherry coke. We felt SO grown up. It was the beginning of a life-long addiction.

But shopping today has changed a lot. The Eaton’s catalogue business has been replaced by Amazon delivery. White gloves have given way to ripped jeans and hoodies. The special occasion is now our regular weekend activity. And store marketing departments spend a lot of time trying to find a niché or a gimmick to attract our attention and our shopping dollar.

I discovered recently that Nordstrom has the latest answer. A customer can go to her local store, find the in-store restaurant, and order a glass of wine. After paying, the customer is free to wander through every department while sipping her chardonnay. The Nordstrom marketing team say their aim is to making shopping a “fun experience” for their customers.

Surely this is the way to polish off the month of January!

Sue