Toronto’s fiery hues have been replaced by leafless trees. The greyness is cut by giant Christmas baubles appearing.
I have a long ‘to-do’ list, but am adamant that some me-hours be on my agenda today. I make my trek to the William Ashley Warehouse Sale, a yearly event for me since my move to Toronto 18 years ago. Admittedly, my limited cupboard space is already overflowing with kitchenware. This is not a need: just a want. I splurge, an early birthday present to myself.
My massage is not a luxury but a necessity. I booked the appointment a few days ago when the major knots in my neck and back started to cause unbearable sharp pains. Their appearance, no doubt, is related to the long stressful hours of work, broken only by poor sleep balancing on my air mattress atop my camp cot.
The Danish kitchen at base camp did such an amazing job providing fresh vegetarian-friendly meals with soul-soothing extras (the creme caramel with fresh passion fruit, the baked apples with fresh whipped cream, ...) that I would stay on in Haiti just for the food! On my first mission to Haiti, fresh vegetables were such a rarity that all I wanted to eat upon my return were greens. I do the adventurous Toronto dining thing, heading for the Afghan fast food joint for paneer tikka kebab over fragrant buttery basmati rice.
The combination of sleep deprivation and a post-prandial lull sends me home to bed for the next 14 hours.
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