#346 - Impressionists Save the Day

We were both up early this morning to catch a train into work.

The forecast was all rain and gloom for the rest of the day. Naturally we could only find one umbrella. I used to have four Hyundai umbrellas, but they’ve all gone mysteriously missing. The ride to work was clear and not too busy. We even managed to get a decent spot in the parking lot.

A train was just leaving the station as we pulled into our spot, and I was surprised that another train was just two minutes away. This meant our train wouldn’t be filled to standing room only and we got a spot easily when the train happened to stop right where I was standing. Not that being first on meant very much this morning.

The air conditioning was either off or running too low for Robyn’s taste, so we moved back one car to where it was nice and chilly for her. We tried to get her phone to be a hotspot, but for some reason it was all grey out as an option and I let her use mine so she could get her schoolwork reading done while we rode the train.

I fussed about on her phone for a while trying to get it to work, but eventually I just set it to update its software and got on with my own morning tasks of writing. I noticed her phone was at 28%, so I slapped my portable battery onto the back to give it some power while it updated.

I wondered if I should stop and try the new breakfast sandwich at Au Pain Dore. It didn’t sound like an improvement as far as I was concerned. I also forgot to bring the Alani energy drinks I bought last night as well. When I put them in the kitchen fridge I wondered if I would forget them there.

There was a new flavour I hadn’t tried called Witches Brew.

Sounds gross.

But I bought one to try anyway.

I heard from a longtime friend that he was going to retire in a few months from his job as an economist with the Federal government. I was happy to hear that at least one of us was able to retire at a decent age. He is in his early fifties and yes, I am completely jealous of him. But he is a good guy and derserves the time off. And I would expect an economist to be able to retire early, he should by default be good with his money.

He was also the first of our group of friends to buy a house and get a ‘real job’ after finishing our schooling. So, he had about a ten-year head start on us and in terms of buying a house, he paid a lot less than we had to when we finally had enough money. So, retiring before fifty-five seems about right for him.

When he bought his house back then I remembered feeling like it would a long time before I could afford my own. It happened eventually, and now I feel the same way about retiring. Will it ever happen for me, or will I be working until my last breath is taken?

It certainly puts a fire under my ass about writing some good novels!

It was a nice and easy ride to Toronto without any incidents.

We took the nicer Esplanade route to work and stopped at the café to try the new vegetarian breakfast sandwich. My skepticism was on high alert, and I even contemplated skipping it all together.

I walked into the café scanning the spot on the glass front cabinet where they line up all the sandwiches. My eye registered at once the absence of that round flaky croissant. In its place was the new version, sandwiched between two slices of focaccia. The scowl that came upon my face was involuntary. I already knew the beautiful and luxurious velvety smooth goat cheese had been replaced with a sharper and denser feta. I was surprised to read the sandwich was drizzled with a little bit of balsamic glaze.

The owner of the café approached cautiously, like he was dealing with a dangerous animal and asked if I would like to try the new sandwich. A brave move, considering he knew my feelings about the change. I told him I’d try it, but with a tone of voice that left no doubt about the outcome. I wanted the old version back.

“I hope you like it,” said the owner backing away to help another customer. I wondered if they would change all their coffee beans to pinto beans and see if their clientele would put up with that change.

Another worker heated my sandwich, wrapped it a white paper bag and hand it to me.

“I hope you like it,” he said echoing his boss.

“I hope I like it to,” I threatened.

I didn’t want to eat the meal there, so Robyn and I walked straight to the office. Once there I gingerly unwrapped the sandwich like it might explode. The bread felt wrong in my hands. It was not longer cloud soft but had a firmness to it.

I took a bite and most of the flavours were still there. The feta was not nearly as nice as the goat cheese, but it wasn’t as sharp and overbearing as I had imagined it would be. The sweet tang of the balsamic glaze was a welcomed surprise to my palette.

The bread was good for a focaccia. Not great, but acceptable. It couldn’t replace the nice mouth feel of the croissant. But overall the sandwich was still enjoyable. Had the kept the goat cheese I think it I could enjoy it, substituting the balsamic glaze for the croissant would have been a fair deal.

But the big question came when Robyn asked, “So, would you get it again.”

I had to pause and think about it for a second.

But the answer was ultimately yes.

The new sandwich I is not as good as the old version, but it is still a good sandwich.

I got down to work right after finishing my sandwich and did more approvals and revisions. There was the usual morning chatter on the Teams app, but once that subsided, I was able to focus on the task at hand.

We had our all-supervisors meeting and there wasn’t too much to report. Everything was going as well as it could. Once again, I got back to work, assigned some revisions and did a few myself. My goal today was to get as many paintings handed in so that the art director could look at them tonight and give us a fighting chance to be done with episode by Friday.

Lunch arrived, and Robyn and I sat together and ate some leftover Chicken Ruby from the cottage meal I had prepared. There was only a little left, but we added some basmati rice and a slice of naan bread to add a bit more substance to the meal.

After lunch we headed outside into the light drizzle and walked to the nearest Tim Horton’s, where Robyn bought herself tea. It was nice to get out of the studio and clear our heads.

We headed straight back and got down to work again. I worked until about two thirty when I got ready for a Leica launch meeting. By three I was in the meeting where we asked the design team for a bunch of things we needed. We also were able to ask the director for clarification on sets and direction of the camera. In a show like ours where the characters move from place to place a lot a little map helps, but sometimes it is still confusing where they end up and how they got there.

With the meeting over, I wne t back to getting as many background paintings finished as possible. That meant I took the lowest hanging fruit and did the easiest one first and worked towards the painting that needed more revisions.

This way the art director gets as many paintings in her view as possible and the best overall view of the show.

That got me to the end of the day, and we walked to the station in more drizzle. An al-stops train was just coming in as we mounted the platform. I think on days like this we would have preferred an express train, but you take the train that’s there. It’s the rule I generally follow when taking the Go Train. Yoi never know if the next one is going to get delayed or cancelled.

I was able to get a good amount of writing done on the ride home, which was a boon, since we walked at lunch. I was supposed to write then and Robyn was going to read some of her schoolwork, but we both could use the exercise, and it felt better to move than to keep stationary. We have enough of that with our jobs as it is.

I checked in on my mentor’s Kickstarter, and she is almost at the seven-thousand-dollar mark. They launched this campaign on Tuesday, and it seems like it is doing well. I would consider a campaign like that to be a roaring success for my own work. Keep in mind they do at least one of these a month. It brings in new readers and allows them to use old inventory as stretch rewards. They’ve had more than one go beyond twenty thousand dollars as well.

But even at the seven thousand USD level per month, that’s enough to make a living from your writing!

I hope to have my first Kickstarter in early to mid 2027.

We drove home and the ride was enjoyable, none of that crazy start and stop traffic we usually run into.

I headed straight upstairs to watch an episode of The Gentlemen while Robyn went straight back to work to allow her to miss a few hours tomorrow and attend a class. One episode of The Gentlemen turned into two. The series has moved from England to Italy, and I am enjoying the Italian scenery. The area they are filming is absolutely gorgeous and I think it is in the northern part of Italy in the palazzos around Lake Maggiore.

I’d love to go there some day, but it looks out of my price range. I’m not a Duke or a Contessa. But you never know.

I left my tv watching to make Robyn and myself some sandwiches for dinner. I didn’t really want to do any cooking tonight. I had some ham and turkey, muffuletta, a tomato from the garden and a nice slice of cheese. I toasted the bread since all we had was Wonder Bread.

The muffuletta elevated the sandwich considerably as I expected it to. It’s been missing from my sandwich life for far too long.

I went back upstairs and watched some YouTube videos. I was fishing around, looking for interesting things that might find themselves into one of my stories one day. Everything from where the Black Irish came from and how to cook chicken thighs this way and that way.

 I ended up going downstairs to make Robyn a cup of tea. My little hard worker deserved a little TLC. I made one for myself as well and I then went back upstairs and watched Britian’s Got Talent, impressionists edition on YouTube of course.  A little mindless entertainment.

It was the little piece of joy and happiness I needed today. And I didn’t even know I needed it at the time.

Recently, I have been getting ads on YouTube in Hindi. I’m not sure what that is all about or why they think I can understand any of it. I wonder if it is a reflection of the change in demographics in my neighbourhood. Or is it because my neighbours watch a show in that language. His mother recently came over from India and the ads started showing up in Hindi about the same time.

But if that’s true, how much data are they collecting on all of us?

Anyway, it’s been a long day, and I am ready to call it a night.

Until tomorrow.