For every single post that actually makes it here, I've composed a few dozen, usually sitting in the dark in my POANG chair with a semi-sleepy infant in my arms. The problem is that it's hard to translate what was in my head into keystrokes on my Macbook. Anyway.
Two years ago, I was on a plane. Madeline and I left Edmonton, changed planes in Denver, changed planes again in Los Angeles, and then one more time, in Singapore. And then we arrived here, on July 9th, 2007.
It's still way too hot here, and my life is filled with a language I don't understand, smells that I don't really like, and a lot of social behaviours that I can't quite get my head around, but this place is our home. It's temporary, true, but it's been awhile since we've lived anywhere longer. The thought of living anywhere but here is kind of unsettling to me.
This evening, while sitting in my POANG chair, I was reminiscing about how the Calgary Co-op was the best place that I have ever purchased groceries. There was someone to carry my heavy bags out to my aging-gracefully Ford Tempo and load them into the trunk while I clipped Madeline into her carseat, there was someone to put the fuel in my car while I waited inside my car singing silly songs to amuse my young child and keep her from screaming, and they sent me a cheque once a year - a percentage of my expenditure with them being returned. I wonder if I will like the Calgary Co-op as much, if we ever live there again?
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