“Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings”

I try (not always successfully) to choose evocative titles for these blog entries. Since I’m a bit behind in my posts, today’s will be a mish-mash of items; hence, the title. I remember reading these lines in a book a long time ago, and they’ve stuck with me ever since. No doubt it’s the strong meter and the juxtaposition of unlikely nouns that made them so memorable. Not until today did I discover they were lifted from the eleventh stanza of Lewis Carroll’s “The Walrus and The Carpenter.”

Here’s the stanza in its entirety:

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

Funny, I’d always been under the impression I’d first read them in Alcott’s Little Women. For some reason, I thought Jo quoted them when the March sisters and Theodore (aka “Teddy,” aka “Laurie”) Lawrence discussed “castles in the air.” Alas, I was wrong. Via Project Gutenberg I called up the plain texts of Little Women, Little Men, and Jo’s Boys; no instances of these lines to be found in any of them. Perhaps it was in Eight Cousins or Rose in Bloom? I might be confusing my series; perhaps it was Montgomery’s Anne Shirley who quoted Carroll. No matter. (But if anyone knows, please tell me.)

Down to business. I was thinking that “of shoes and kids and transit tracks, of nectarines and titslings” might be a more accurate summary of my post (despite its messing with the metrics).

Shoes
We can dispense with shoes right off. I think I’ll need new shoes for work, but I hate shopping for them. I’m going to procrastinate until I can cajole James into accompanying me. Normally, I prefer to shop by myself, but when it comes to shoes, I fare much better if James is beside me. All I have to do is wince, whine, and wail about how impossible it is to find size sevens in a flattering style, and suddenly it takes on the aspect of—du du du duhhhh—a mission. “Must…find…shoes.” Did I mention I married a task-oriented man? Or…I could beg Nicole C. for her help. Shopping for shoes ranks as one of her top ten activities on Facebook, and the Aerosoles she helped me find about five or six years ago lasted almost five or six years. In fact, I think they might still be hiding out in an unpacked box somewhere.

Kids
(“Who are the people in your neighborhood?” or “Meet the Blockers”)
Little Lina strikes again! After three days of absence (probably due to the cooler, windy weather), she appeared yesterday afternoon (Monday), with younger brother trailing behind. Another of her little friends, named Rajean, as far as I can tell, or “Jean” for short, appeared from two doors down. (I took an immediate like to Jean; she’s not as forward as the other two.) Later in the evening, the team came back—minus Jean, but having acquired a boy named Cedric. (Aside: When I asked Lina who her friend was, she said, “He’s not my friend.” That didn’t stop her from playing with him, I noticed.)

Finally the parents were out and about at the same time as their children. I first introduced myself to Jean’s mom. Later I walked over to Lina’s mom and told her I was the woman with the two cats. She said she had thought maybe her kids were imagining things, making up the cats. She hoped her children weren’t bothering me. Hmm. I told her that if the cats were outdoors, the kids could play with them, but if I didn’t want company, I would say the cats were busy. (Their social calendar is quickly filling up with, let’s see, sleeping, eating, litterbox breaks, sleeping….) She corrected me on Falas’s name. It’s actually Ferris—Lina has difficulty pronouncing r's. (It only struck me on the way home from aquafit that evening that whoever names their child with a homonym for phallus is blatantly inviting trouble. Something Oedipal would have to be going on there.) So Ferris it is. I always did like Matthew Broderick in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. If his early years are any indication, this Ferris will probably follow in the footsteps of the fictional one. Next it was over to see Cedric’s mom, who happened to be out on her deck.

I emphasized to all the mothers that the inside of my house is off limits to the kids. There’s no way I’m having the little dervishes inside; it’s hard enough to shoo them away from our place on the outside. Plus, I am conscious of avoiding any potential false allegations of child abuse. These days, you just never know. You’d think all of today’s parents would know that, too.

Transit Tracks
I took the bus to a doctor’s appointment on Riverside. I was aware that Billings Bridge precedes Pleasant Park, which precedes Riverside station. However, I miscalculated: I was certain somebody would ring the bell for a stop at Riverside, but no one did, and I wasn’t sure it was Riverside (didn't have a clear view of the sign), so I bypassed it and got off at Smyth instead. No biggie, I thought, Smyth can’t be more than a quarter of a mile up the road from Riverside. I had lots of time, so I enjoyed the walk along the paved shoulder of the transitway. Suddenly, an OC Transpo patrol car pulls up beside me and the officer wants to know where I’m going. To Riverside, say I. “Did you miss your stop?” Yes, say I, got off at Smyth by mistake. Apparently they don’t allow pedestrians on the paved shoulder of the transitway. I apologized, and hurriedly backtracked to my original destination. If he’d been playing Bad Cop, he could have charged me with a fine; fortunately for me, he was Bon Cop.

Who knew this post about “nothing” would get this long. In fact, it’s way too long as it is.

To be continued…