Getting back into the school routine has been…exhausting.
I’m taking a number of steps to promote well being.
I went to yoga on Sunday. Since I hadn’t been for a while, some of the poses were difficult. After this challenging class, I almost knocked the instructor over as I left the studio. It was a physical Freudian Slip.
Then I bought an assortment of vegetables to roast for quick weeknight dinners. I’m hoping to give myself a dose of energy and the healthy glow of a vegan.
As well as being delicious, the beets had the added benefit of turning everything they touched a glorious shade of pink.
Five observations from my recent Victoria adventure:
There are domesticated bee hives smack dab in the middle of the city! The Empress Hotel produces its own honey from bees in their lovely gardens.
It’s possible to gut a heritage building while leaving its impossibly thin exterior walls standing. For some reason, this fascinated me and I snapped a few photos every time I passed it.
Urban pigeons are quite aggressive when they see you enjoying a delicious, flakey Danish from Crust Bakery.
Even if you’re not especially into boats, you’ll see one you love in the Inner Harbour.
No matter how many times you do it, it’s no fun leaving your Boy at university. 😦
Victoria is a lovely city. I wandered around…and quickly became bored by shopping.
Something’s happened to me: I seem to have lost the shopping gene!
Since I didn’t want to blow the budget on retail therapy, I decided to cross an item off my bucket list–a martini at the Empress. I’ve never had a martini, but I’ve seen smooth operators like James Bond and Don Draper drink enough of them that I felt like an expert going in.
My martini was crisp and cold and smooth, and went down surprisingly quickly.
The waitress asked if I wanted another.
“I’m not sure,” I said, trying to look suave and sophisticated. “This was my first ever martini!”
Her eyes widened. “That’s three ounces of alcohol. If you have another one, you’ll be a mess!”
I thanked my wise, one martini waitress and gave her a big tip.
Later that afternoon, I had another learning experience: a martini is not a good lunch substitute, especially if you’ve skipped breakfast.
As I know from past experience, my shopping inhibitions fall away in the presence of alcohol.
The next morning when I woke up feeling buyer’s remorse (and a slight headache), I discovered the small, cutesy boutiques I frequented don’t offer cash refunds like the big chain stores.
Sigh. I either need to quit drinking or give up the recreational shopping.