Yesterday was my first day of work after a week of repose and relaxation. My shifted ended at 3:30pm. The sky was blue and the sun was bright. On my walk home, I stopped to pick up some beets to add to a less-than-satisfying borscht I had made the night before. I was determined to make that soup a deep purple, rather than a fleshy, dark pink. Determined to make it ooze with beet sweetness, rather than subtly remind one of what beets tasted like (I made it with golden and candystripe beets, which just aren’t strong enough to make a serious borscht), I stopped at the grocery store and picked up some extras to add to it.
Purple beetroot in my fist, I arrived home. Marching up the stairs, I met my roommate, D, at the landing in our front hallway.
“I’ve come to make things right” I said triumphantly, hoisting the beets above my head.
“I’m going for a skate” said D.
“Ooh, maybe I’ll go for a skate” I replied, immediately letting slip away any resolve regarding my soup.
I left the beets laid across the kitchen table, grabbed my sunglasses and toque and headed for The Oval.
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