I am already enjoying one of my finds - A Basket of Apples: Recollections of Historic Nova Scotia, a reminiscent hard cover with choice photos. Harry Bruce provides the musings while Chic Harris shows his photography skills, and both are excellent so far.
The inscription on the first page sold me though, "To Dad, Top o' the morning to you. Love Josie, Randy & Jon. March 17, 1983," written in blue ballpoint with clean, plain, round feminine letters. I'm guessing Josie wrote this. Perhaps dad was from Nova Scotia and had moved here, to the most Irish city in Canada, and started a family and this book caught Josie's eye in a book store back in 1983.
Yesterday's adventures also included a dreaded, but necessary trip to the emergency department. Thankfully, we were in and out quickly, but with a couple prescriptions to fill, so we headed for the only pharmacy we knew was open after 9pm, albeit only to 10pm.
While waiting for Holly's drugs, I took my blood pressure then browsed the aisles for sales. After finding a big 100g chocolate bar on sale for $1.39, with a dollar off coupon attached - a 39¢ bar of chocolate! - I checked the price for low dose aspirin.
Turning the corner, there was only one other person in the aisle, a small boy - looking intently at the assortment of pain killers. He was sturdy - not fat - with short dark hair and dark features and didn't seem to come up to my waste in height. Seeing nothing on sale, I noticed in my peripheral vision that he had turned to look at me, staring without reservation the way only small children can.
"I saw you at the hospital," he stated confidently when he saw I took notice of him.
"You did?" I replied, smiling, trying to generate some degree of interest in the tone of my voice, still working on getting through a long day.
"I had to see the doctor and get some medicine for my ear," he told me, pointing out the hospital bracelet around his wrist.
"Well, I'm glad you'll be feeling better soon," I told him, and as I headed back toward the pharmacy counter I recognized his mother speaking with the pharmacist. She seemed young, but a little more pulled together than most young mothers that can be found at the hospital so often.
"He's 41 or 42 pounds," she responded to the druggist's inquiry, looking back to see that her son had returned from his foray.
Life doesn't always happened as planned, but gems can be found when you need to detour.
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