HOT SHOTS – JULY 24TH, 2016
The Hot Shots may not churn out like clockwork over the few weeks we have between now and school starting, only due to all of us moving our schedules and tasks around so that everyone gets time off to bask in the sun.
You’ll be happy to know though, that last weekend while I was NOT writing Hot Shots, I was at a church in Ladner cutting hair for migrant farm workers. At the beginning of the day I was a grouch who was hating on the patriarchy who didn’t know how to cut hair or speak Spanish. By the end of the day I was happy and tired, I knew how to cut men’s hair and I was oh so happy to be of service to the people who do the majority of farm labour in the lower mainland, and are afforded less human rights than Canadians. That, fellow Canadians, is a system of oppression we should be doing everything we can to alter, and it is critically embarrassing. I would have done anything for any one of those men, and that is pretty much the opposite feeling of hating on the patriarchy.
The first person who sat in my chair was an elderly man who had been playing the marimba. When I said, “sure, I can cut hair,” I was thinking any idiot can cut hair. But then there was a beautiful older man in my chair and I didn’t speak Spanish and he didn’t speak English and his hair was actually already very short. I had scissors and a comb and I did not know what to do. I wanted to cry I felt so useless. I wanted to go home. I wanted to say, “hey got anyone doing the dishes? I can definitely do the dishes!” But instead I dug deep and I commenced trimming his hair, trying to do what I’ve seen hairdressers do, and trying to use my brain and my heart all at once, because that usually makes downright beautiful things happen. When I was done, the man stood up and looked in the mirror to see what I had done which was: pretty much nothing. He said, “Gracias.”
Thank heavens, someone showed up and showed me how to use clippers and how to cut hair with scissors and a comb and then I did more than 10 hair cuts.
At the end of the day the marimba player approached and he sat in my chair and looked at me in the mirror. Without words he said, “will you try again, now that you’ve learned how to do this?” and without words I said, “thank you for giving me a second chance.” At the end he looked in the mirror, and he said “Gracias,” and that was how he forgave me for not knowing what I was doing.
I still don’t know how to speak Spanish, but I bet Blanca and Heather and their little Tessa will teach me. But I do know that rage is self righteous, and service is humbling and the happier one is the latter.
I thank this world for all its second chances. Sheesh, that’s the sweet part. The second chances.
BC blackberries! That someone else got all scraped up to get for you! And I guarantee, someone shed blood getting these berries for you. I know because my mom sent me out there for them, and it hurt. Honestly it looked pretty cool, but also, it hurt.
The local raspberry season is wrapping up and this is what our CA stock looks like. Pretty amazing!
This pallet was too tall for me to even grab a top box, so this is the shot that I got when I just threw my arm in the air with the camera and stood on my tippy toes. These are beautiful, we’ve been eating them all day, and they’re dirt cheap. Get on it!
Gold shiro plums in 2lb clamshells, and we’ve got these in bulk as well.
My friend Sarah and I happened to dop into Harker’s on Friday on our way back from the Kootenays and Sarah there was slaving over a big pot of curry for the staff for lunch and the person who rung up our purchases said, “they treat us real good.” Sarah and I ate peaches, cherries and caramel corn for lunch and dinner on the way back home and we felt treated real good by Harker’s, too. Oh yeah, and these are their first nectarines. We are lucky we got them. And you are lucky if you get them too.
These are from Grassroots Growers, they are pea tips. They are sweet and you are supposed to toss them in just a bit of heat or eat ’em raw. I ate ’em raw and I enjoyed every moment of it. I love everything pea.
THIS HERE IS A REASON TO LIVE AND IT’S CALLED THE SANTA ROSA PLUM!!!! I shared one with Jon, it went better then last time, but at the very end I dropped it on the ground. But then santa rosa plums are so very very good and I was raised by wolves, so I picked it up and wiped it on my jean shorts and I ate it and Jon said, “You’re gross.” And I said, “You are.” And that was it.
Fresh BC onions!
I just asked Jackie, “Is this what we’re calling Yu Choy?”
And Jackie said, “No that’s Me Choy.”
And I said, “We don’t have a listing for Me Choy.”
And Jackie said, “That was a joke Ursula.”
This is Yu choy and it’s very much like gailan and in fact I cannot tell the difference. Please tell me the difference. It’s beautiful. And if gailan and rapini have anything in common (which they DO) then consider this the vegetable that Rapunzel’s mother was so obsessed with she made her husband steal it from the witch’s garden every night. I’d steal it from a witch’s garden if that was the only place I could get it. Also, so would Stefan. We are Yu Choy fiends.
And this is baby bok coy jr. It’s like big bok choy had a little baby
And this is shanghai bok choy. And they’re all from BC.
This is an unfortunate photograph but I wanted to include it anyway. It looks like the greens are yellowing but it’s not the case, rather the fault of a flash in a dark cooler. These are absolutely stunning and gorgeous bunched red spring onions.
Discovery apples! Named after us! (That’s a lie)
And more and more BC apricots. Where mother anture short changed us last year on the apricot front, she’s heaping on the gold this year. Lucky us. We’ll take what we can get.
Stay cool, stay hydrated, stay humble. And let us all take a moment to be ever so grateful to the folks who grow our food, and to be ever so discerning when it comes to our purchasing power, not to support an agriculture machine that works soil and people to death. Let us act like we know better, because we do.