AUBREEVISION - Observations from the far side of the dial

I wrote the following partial entry whilst in flight to Halifax yesterday, bereft of reading material:

"Things that amaze me: how long it takes people to get on and off a plane. Especially painful when there's a long-unseen someone waiting for you in the airport, and you're inching your way to the front of the plane from seat 34a while everybody and their dog stands in the aisle to powder their nose.

"This brings to mind another peeve I was recently reflecting on -- espresso misspelled and misspoken expresso. Especially offensive when misspelled in the name of a coffee shop -- maybe I'm a language nazi, but I feel better buying espresso from someone who can spell it. That is, I would if I actually drank espresso, which I don't. But that's not the point.

"I do want to start making and drinking espresso, though, for no reason other than I find the cups adorable. I love things in miniature, and espresso cups come in the wee-est, cutest, funkiest flavours. Long story short, must buy espresso maker to justify buying accessories."

That's as far as I got on the plane. Kept getting interrupted by offers of headphones, vacuum-packed "cinnamon" rolls (didn't taste any evidence of namesake) and garbage pickup. But all in all, the flight was pleasant and the airports weren't a teeming nightmare. The worst of it was getting up at 4 to catch my flight -- but this was more than made up for by Eric's sweetness in calling to ensure I was up and about. He's not a morning person by a long shot, and to get up at 4 just to call me....

So I'm back on the homefront for almost a week. It's a balmy 11 degrees Celsius in southwest Nova Scotia, a great improvement on the central Canadian deep freeze. Have been taking it easy thus far, doing some decorating and cleaning around the house. This afternoon I'll be meeting friends at Tim Horton's for a life-sustaining caffeine injection, then it's off to my sister's place for supper and shopping.

Here's the story on my caffeine withdrawal. My parents don't drink coffee, and when I asked Mom to pick some up, she brought back instant. Fine, I think, whatever -- not the best, but since they don't have a coffee maker, I'll manage. But then I look at the label -- and it's DECAF! Here's my take on decaf --WHAT'S THE POINT?? Surely she doesn't believe I drink coffee for the taste...

But here's my more serious challenge in visiting the hometown. This environment was the scene, and in great part the trigger, for the Great Depression of '99, the summer I completely fell apart. Naturally, coming back to visit, even for just a few days, threatens to plunge me back into that mindset (Winston Churchill called it the Black Dog). Though the main depressive episode lasted just a year (just I say -- that's about, oh, 10 lifetimes when you're depressed), I was never really happy here after age 12...yet, it's where my parents are and where I had a relatively happy childhood, so the whole thing is rather love/hate. Yesterday when we were driving home from the airport I sneezed and quoth Mother: "Maybe you're allergic to Nova Scotia." If she only knew...I seriously wonder sometimes if there's something in the air that rubs my brain wrong.

At any rate, it's been five years since that horrible summer and being here gets a bit easier each time. I function well in Ottawa and everywhere else -- so replacing negative Hometown associations with positive (okay, maybe I'll settle for neutral) ones is something of a final challenge. [Hometown] -- The Final Frontier.

But enough of that -- on with the present. My sister and I will be shopping at Frenchy's, an unrivalled second-hand clothing store chain unique to Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. You have to be willing to treasure hunt, but the prices are amazing and so are the finds. Example: my sister found me a pair of brand new Doc Martens shoes, in exactly my freakishly small size, for $3 (about $2.50 for all our American friends).

I'll end with a Homer Simpson-esque anecdote starring my dad. We had this exchange about a deer hunting expedition, which involved him walking the community's main roads with gun in hand:

Me: Isn't that illegal?
Him: Oh, I went before dawn and jumped in the ditch when cars went by. And it's legal if you have it in a case.
Me: But it wasn't in a case.
Him: Yes, but it could have been.