Friday, March 25, 2011

Yesterday, while driving down Concession Street, I saw a man using a pay phone on the outside of a convenience store. He was wearing jeans and a black sweater with the hood pulled over his head. He was leaning nonchalantly against the booth, the cord hanging down. It seemed so normal, yet so ancient. It was like a photograph. I don't know why it made me so happy.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Buying jeans that are already broken in is my favourite. They are obviously worn. They are not just like new - all stiff and dark. They are softer, and already comfortable. They are a little frayed at the hem around the back. They were once loved by someone else, and they are now mine to enjoy.

One thing I am coming to love about this work is spending time in other people's homes. Not just for births, as only a small fraction of our births occur at home. But for prenatal visits if she is planning a home birth. To scope out the place, to anticipate and plan for the big day. And for home visits for every client after the baby is born. I love seeing where she lives, what her home is like. I prefer the feel of being on the woman's turf, in her own environment, where she is most comfortable. It's lovely.

Sometimes when I need to go to the clinic outside of office hours, I feel like I'm breaking in and sneaking around. Even though I have keys to the building and a code to turn off the alarm. I feel like I'm stealing when I stock up on gloves or other supplies, or pick up a chart on the way to a birth. No one else is around, the lights are off, it's very quiet.