Month: November 2025

fitness · goals

Checking in on my 25 in 2025 (Fall Edition)

Diane Harper

Checking back and reflecting on what I have done is always interesting. And novel, because I’m usually that person who doesn’t look back often; I’m too busy chasing the next fun thing. Here’s what I had planned to do. How have things gone since my mid-year check in?

Camp more at the cottage property. My friend Mel was only available for one long weekend, and we had no time for hiking or canoeing. However, we did manage a proof of concept with the cats. Interior finishing is continuing to progress and the cats didn’t escape and get eaten by a bear, so this is definitely going to be a repeat project for next year, once I have electricity to run the heat and water pump.

Bike at least 2,000 km. I might hit 200. The knees are still sore, but I’m continuing to work at physio exercises to stretch and strengthen the offending areas. I have my e-bike back in service for the first time since last fall and I have gone out for a couple of longer rides. There are a few fun group rides coming up. I hope to get out to at least one, because I miss that social activity a lot. And it’s almost time to set up my bike on the trainer and see whether I’ll use it this year.

Read one book a month: goal complete and exceeded! Thank you Ottawa Public Library and your interlibrary loan service. I’m anticipating some quiet days in November and December when I can curl up in bed with a stack of magazines.

Cooking one new recipe a week, with lots of vegan and vegetarian, using what’s in my pantry as much as possible, has shifted a little again. I have decided to focus more on making sure my plate is at least half full of vegetables. I even spent a couple of months tracking what I ate (not quantities though). For the first time in years, my most recent blood tests show my cholesterol comfortably in the normal range, so yay me!

Gardening in a drought was a bit of a disaster. Enough said. I am already thinking about how to make my gardens more climate-resilient for next year.

Swimming 200km a year: I’m close to halfway there, but definitely will not meet this one. I am counting wins in that I reconnected with some old swimming friends, and made a few new ones.

Me with old friends Michelle and Lois at the lake in September. We first met in a swim program many years ago, but headed off to different clubs when that pool closed a decade ago. It has been great to reconnect and swim together again.

Crafting was all over the place: I had fun at my textiles conference and followed up with a six-week course on one of the techniques I learned. There has been no art at all, but one of my really fun challenges has been making a pair of mittens patterned after those worn by Bernie Sanders at the first Trump inauguration, using a pattern I have mostly designed on my own.

Sewing continues to not happen.

Decluttering has definitely been a mixed bag, since I have taken on the challenge of cluttering at Mom’s. Her basement is being cleared, but mostly to my house. I am struggling to keep up with moving things onwards to their final home. It all makes me more determined than ever to tackle my own stuff.

Vacation to visit family and friends in southern Ontario ended up being too short, but it was fun to meet up with all the other bloggers for Sam’s birthday.

Elder care continues to consume way too much time, and yet I know it is precious time as Mom won’t be around forever. The realities of discovering how “not independent” Mom is, after spending a lifetime seeing her as very feminist and independent is shocking. It has me thinking a lot about how to ensure my own independence as I age, and simplify all the decision-making for my kids when they need to take over. An updated list of accounts and passwords would be a good start!

Most of my friends seen to be struggling with similar aging parent challenges, on top of their own health issues. So minimal get-togethers to just hang out. We’re all too tired. Heck, I was too tired even to relax in my hammock.

I haven’t been loud with my activist voice, but I did use my voice for an adventure. I joined in the production of one of the medieval York Corpus Christi plays, finished up my costume (that June sewing deadline on my original list), and acted the part of one of the three wise men.

I’m on the right of a small raised outdoor stage, presenting my gift of incense to the Virgin Mary, accompanied by her maid servant. Another wise man in blue is kneeling on the left, and in the background, you can just glimpse Herod and a soldier waiting for their next cue.

Will I bother to update this list again? Probably not. It’s already almost the end of the year, and I doubt much will change between now and then. Besides, I could use that precious blogging time for a nap.

I will make another list for next year. My goals are always wildly ambitious, but I’m learning that checking in on them helps me to refocus and to remember my successes, no matter how modest.

athletes · Olympics · sexism · stereotypes

Funding for Women’s Sports Around the World

Diane Harper

A friend posted this article about the Indian Women’s Cricket team winning the Women’s World Cup.

This AP photo of the women celebrating their World Cup win is from the India Today article linked above.

“Three years before this moment, back in October 2022, the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) made a bold and unprecedented move during its 15th Apex Council meeting. They unanimously passed a resolution to introduce pay parity between India’s men’s and women’s cricketers. For the first time, the women who wore the blue jersey would receive the same match fees as their male counterparts.”

“This triumph was not accidental. It was the result of a carefully constructed ecosystem designed to elevate women’s cricket from the fringes to the forefront. The BCCI’s [Board of Control for Cricket in India] equal pay decision was only one piece of a larger puzzle: improved facilities, better coaching structures, and the advent of the Women’s Premier League (WPL), which gave Indian players consistent exposure to world-class competition. The WPL, in particular, provided an arena for rising stars to play alongside and against international icons, sharpening their skills and instilling the poise needed for high-pressure moments like a World Cup final.”

The article got me thinking about other low and middle income countries with powerhouse sports teams. I didn’t find exactly what I was looking for, but discovered that Kenya has a national strategy and several funds (public and private sector) to support women athletes. Jamaica announced a fund to support women’s soccer earlier this year, just two years after the national team had to crowd-fund its way to the Women’s World Cup.

Most seem to rely on non-governmental funding, which is more about empowering women and girls rather than producing elite athletes. That is arguably a far more important goal. But as interest in women’s sport continues to rise around the world, I look forward to seeing other countries and corporate sponsors putting resources into equal funding for women’s sport.

I’m already a fan of the Olympics, where there are serious efforts to ensure gender parity in the competitions and on individual teams. Future games promise to be even more interesting, as the traditional dominance of countries that have (relatively) strong support for female athletes is tested.

a drawing of a gold star with black trim surrounded by small black polka dots. Go Team 2025: Can you do me a favour, pretty please?
ADHD · fitness · habits · mindfulness · motivation · self care

Go Team 2025: Can you do me a favour, pretty please?

Christine Hennebury2 Comments

Hey Team!

I’m writing this on Monday, November 10 (a.k.a. My Birthday!) and I have been pondering* what to write to you about all day. 

I knew that I wanted to write my favourite kind of post (a Go Team! post, of course) but I wasn’t sure what to focus on. 

And then it struck me.

While I am generally comfortable asking for things I need, my ADHD can complicate the process of asking for some things that I want. I have trouble telling if I am asking for too much, if I am imposing, or if my request is annoying beyond measure.

Intellectually, I know that, as a fairly helpful, relatively reasonable person who will definitely go out of her way for people, I am probably not doing any of those things but my brain will still worry about inconveniencing people.

On my birthday, though, I give that part of my brain a break. Somehow, the fact that it is my birthday makes it a bit easier for me to ask for favours, for small indulgences, for things that would normally make me wonder if I am putting the other person through too much trouble.

And, even though it will be the day after my birthday by the time you read this, I am going to extend the brain break and ask you to do me a favour, to indulge me about something. 

Today, would you consider giving yourself a little break?

You know, as a birthday present to me.

That break might look like taking a little extra time to rest. 

Or it might look like changing the amount of time you spend exercising/meditating/colouring/chatting with a friend/lying on the floor so it fits your needs today. 

It might involve asking your brain to stop churning up the same few mean thoughts over and over. (Try telling it that Christine asked you to shelve that list for now.)

It might mean looking in the mirror and nodding (as in, ‘Yeah, I’m alright’) instead of being hard on yourself about something. 

It might mean recognizing, just for today, that slow progress is still progress.

It might mean considering the possibility that you can pick your own goals for fitness or wellness instead of being pushed around by the fitness industry.

It might mean choosing to say something kind to yourself. 

It might mean saying no to something that doesn’t work for you right now. 

It might mean choosing a fun workout, or a hard workout, or an easy workout without letting your brain try to tell you what you *should* (shudder) do instead.

Basically, I’d love to see you give yourself a bit of time away from any habit or behaviour or thought process that doesn’t help you be kinder to yourself AND/OR that makes it harder for you to head in the direction you want to go. 

You know the kind of thing I mean – the stuff that is often described as ‘self-discipline’ but is really just the kind of crappy stuff that a mean person would say to you or would give you grief about planning to do. 

Please, please, please, do me a birthday favour and take a break from that mean voice, that mean approach, that utterly unsupportive voice that keeps trying to boss you into an impossible place. 

And, Team, I know this isn’t going to be an easy thing to do so I am not only offering you a gold star for your efforts, I’m offering you a heart in my favourite colour so you can know that I am sending a little extra love to help you with the hard work of thinking about things a little differently today. 

Go Team Us!

a drawing of a gold star with black trim surrounded by small black polka dots.
Image description: a small drawing of a shiny gold star with black trim surrounded by small black polka dots. The card with the drawing on it is propped up against a black surface.
a drawing of a green heart with black trim surrounded by small black dots
Image description: a drawing of a green heart with black trim surrounded by small black dots. The drawing is propped up against a black surface

PS – If you want to have a nice snack (cake, maybe?) or take a good nap or read a fun book, I would also happily accept that as a birthday indulgence. 

*That word always makes me think of Pinky and the Brain. You know the – “Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” “I think so, Brain, but what if the chicken won’t wear the nylons?” – kind of thing. So, for your amusement, here’s a list of all of Pinky’s ponderings from the show. 

fitness

Sam is ready for a mini break

Sam B

Fall is an exhilarating and exhausting season in the life of pretty much everyone connected with the university, whether you’re a student, a staff member, or a faculty member. It’s go go go! So much of it is great, but it’s still a lot. As dean, I’m often double and triple-booked into the evenings and weekends. I can’t believe that Halloween is over, it’s now November,  and my mother and I are looking at dates to go Christmas shopping.

What I haven’t been so good at doing this fall, as I have in years past, is taking little breaks. In recent years — I know, because the “memories” feature of Facebook reminds me — we went autumn camping, biking on the Guelph to Goderich trail, visiting Miles at his northern job, attending conferences in the US, and going to plays in NYC. But there’s been a lot less of that this year, all for different reasons.

Also,  since November is my least favorite month, it’s an excellent time to get away.  We’ve been talking about visiting Montreal and hanging out with our favorite nephew. We might even take our bikes and go for a big-city ride.  Then there’s my favourite Montreal spa, Bota Bota, a spa on a boat. Oh and the Kent Monkman show History Is Painted by the Victors is on at the Montreal Museum of Fine Art.

I love Montreal.

Guelph Lake in November
Guelph Lake in November

fitness

What’s your 5 to 9 before your 9 to 5?

Sam B4 Comments

What I read:

The ‘5 to 9 Before 9 to 5’ Trend Isn’t for Everybody, but It May Be for You

Harvard happiness expert’s 6-step morning routine for better productivity

The Best Morning Routine to Help You Live a Longer Life

5 to 9 before 9 to 5: Why TikTok is obsessed with the hours before work

What I’m thinking:

I’ve been blogging about very early mornings for almost as long as the blog has existed. See here and here and here. That’s just three. There are many more!

These days my new health news is affecting my mornings. There’s already medication I need to take in the morning one hour before I eat. So I usually take that at 6 am and eat at 7, roughly. But now I have a new medication that also needs to be taken on an empty stomach, an hour before I eat, but it can’t be taken with the first one. Don’t ask. This means I’m getting up at 5 am and eating breakfast at 7.

So what to do with those two hours?

It’s not quite the full four hours of self care that people are talking about in the “5-9 before your 9-5” but it’s something.  At 7, I’m switching modes to the usual morning stuff– shower,  breakfast,  packing lunch etc.

I don’t think of any of that as self- care.  It’s just my usual before work daily routine. Also,  my work day often starts at 8 or 8:30 so I don’t have the full 5-9 anyway.

From 5-7 am, I have a goal.

I’m trying to avoid lying in bed, doomscrolling. It’s bad for my health, my mental health, and generally starting the day upset and anxious isn’t the best for my stomach, my heart, my soul, my mood.

So at 5 am I’ve been gratitude posting, sharing my #ThreeGoodThings on social media. I do Wordle. And then at 6 am, I share the blog’s daily morning post to social media. 

But there’s still time to do more. 

Here’s my list of things to choose from:

🕰 Write. I joined a monthly writing challenge where the goal is to write 400 words a day,  5 out of 7 days a week.

📚 Read.  I have a new reading lamp and a big stack of books.

🐕 Walk Cheddar. He loves early morning walks.

🚴‍♂️ Bike rides on Zwift. The Herd has a bunch of low key social early morning rides that I like.

🧘‍♀️ Home physio.

I want to resist the wildly ambitious “do all the things before work” mentality.  I don’t want a strict schedule. In the Atlantic there’s piece called The Logic of the ‘9 to 5’ Is Creeping Into the Rest of the Day in which Julie Beck writes “When life revolves around work, even leisure becomes labor.” I don’t want that. I don’t need a wildly productive morning. I’m happy with a gentle start to my day.

So I think I’m going to let myself pick one or two each morning to focus on. The idea,  for me,  is just to do something that’s not scrolling.  I’m already awake.

Today I did physio and walked Cheddar.

What do you do in the mornings before work?

Sunrise over the mountains,  line drawing,  Unsplash

A physical therapist helping a client. BY Annie Spratt for Unsplash. Graduating from physical therapy: Catherine’s excited and a little worried
fitness · injury · mobility · Physiotherapy

Graduating from physical therapy: Catherine’s excited and a little worried

catherine w

I’ve been in physical therapy for a recurrence of sciatica since late July. I’d had pain and weakness in my right hip since May, causing me problems climbing stairs and pain that would wake me up at night. Blech!

Once I finally acknowledged that yes, I needed some help, and got started with a supervised twice-a-week plan, plus at-home exercises, I felt relieved. Relieved that I had a structured plan for dealing with the pain and getting stronger, and also relieved that I could leave this plan up to the professionals (thanks, Julian and Louis!), who would guide me through a process of healing and rebuilding my muscles and getting needed functionality back. Ahhh…

Starting with stretching exercises and some easy strength-building (e.g. bridge, clamshells), I moved on to a full array of hip machine exercises, leg presses, balance activities, farmer’s carry, and stair climbing with dumbells on one side. It’s been gratifying to see and feel my strength increase and pain decrease. Yay!

My classes are all on the second floor of one of the campus buildings, with extra stairs to get into the building. I’ve really not enjoyed waiting for the super-slow elevator to take me to my floor, but it was necessary. Until the past couple of weeks. I’m now taking all the stairs, and my strength has increased so I don’t need to rely on the stair railing to offset weakness in my hip. Yesss!

I knew it was coming, so I wasn’t surprised when I got a call from the PT practice to say I didn’t need twice-a-week sessions anymore. I’ll go once a week for the next few weeks to transition to discharge. This means they think I’m recovered enough to maintain my newly-regained strength and flexibility on my own. Uh, yay?

I mean, here’s the thing: I know I should be feeling like this:

This lamb is feeling it. Thanks, Jonathan Mabey from Unsplash.
This lamb is feeling it. Thanks, Jonathan Mabey from Unsplash.

And I am. It means I’m pretty recovered and functional. I’ll have 4 more hours back for my week. I won’t be paying $40 in co-pays each week. I’ll be climbing stairs to beat the band!

But I also I feel a little like this:

This woman is also not completely sure about the plan. Thanks Simon Abel for Unsplash.
This woman is also not completely sure about the plan. Thanks Simon Abel for Unsplash.

What am I worried about? I’m worried about the challenge of keeping up my fitness maintenance without the help of the PT bros, who I’ve come to like and respect and depend on. Now I have to depend on, well, me. Hence the worried face.

The good news is that my gym has all the machines I need and is a mile from my house. I also know what to do, and in fact like the experience of the weight work and strength training. And, I can bring a friend to my gym for free on the weekends, so I can enlist help in getting there.

And yet.

I’m almost at that transition point– not yet finished with PT, not yet into a regular gym routine. So that’s my next challenge: get to the the one-mile-away-from-my-house gym to do those exercises without the guidance of physical therapists, but instead with the company of other exercisers, including friends.

Maintaining strength, flexibility and functional fitness is really important to me. And it doesn’t always come easy. It’ll take some adjustment, just like twice-a-week PT and at-home exercises did. I’ll report back in a month to let you know how things are going.

Dear readers, what have your experiences of transition from PT/physio to maintenance exercise been like? I’d love to hear what’s worked for you.

Thanks!

woman wearing a long sleeves polo drinking coffee 2025 can end anytime…or not
fitness

2025 can end anytime…or not

Nicole P,1 Comment

By the beginning of October, I found myself wishing 2025 would end. 

My dog died in April.

My Mom died in July. 

My Uncle died on the same day as my Mom, in July.

My Dad is adjusting to his new assisted-living residence. Dementia makes that a bit more challenging than expected.

My sister’s mother-in-law died last week 

This is not the start of a Loretta Lynn tribute song.

A young woman with long auburn hair, sittng with her legs folded behind her. She’s wearing jeans and a tank top and denim jeans. She’s holding an acoustic guitar. There is a brown dog sitting at her feet. She’s sitting on the porch of a ranch-style home with the property of that home in the background.

I could continue to list off the reasons why I can’t wait to see 2025 in the rear view mirror. 

I like the idea of a new start, as much as anyone. A new year offers the chance for new fortunes. Better fortunes? A real vacation or two? Exciting career opportunities? Hope for the world’s seemingly fragile state?  

I am telling myself to stop wishing for 2025 to end.

I don’t like wishing my life away. Whether a week or a month or two or a year.

Not to mention, who knows if a new year will bring better fortunes. There are other options.

It’s true. 2025 hasn’t been my best year. Yet, I am here. I am healthy, and, like any day, week, or year, mixed in with the heartache and stress, there have been some good things. 

It’s not the easiest thing to say out loud, but, as much as I miss my Mom, I don’t miss her illness. She was sick for a couple years. Her illness kept her housebound, highly medicated, and, not completely herself. I grieved every bit of my Mom I lost during that time. I will forever miss the opportunity to call my Mom, but, moving on from that period of time, is not completely a bad thing. I’m so fortunate to have had MY Mom for 53 years.

Grief has a way of shining a light on the supportive people around me. I am so grateful for those supportive people.

Just over a year ago, I was struggling with inexplicable balance issues, that seem to have subsided for several months now. This is a huge relief, when I set out for a run or for my daily walk to work.

My sister continues to amaze me, in her ability to take care of necessary little details that continue to come up, when caring for elderly parents. 

My husband makes me proud. He’s the best life partner for me and I’m so grateful for him every day.

My stepdaughter has been a great source of comfort and I am proud of her and her early adulthood achievements and stability. All while she’s experienced her own losses. 

I have remained consistent with my fitness throughout this year and I am proud of myself for working through all the grief, and, grateful that I am able to do so. I still say thank you, as part of, my mantras, while on my long jogs. I continue to see fitness as the best way to weather life’s rollercoaster moments (I’ve never been a fan of rollercoasters).

The world continues to make me shake my head. From fascist leaders to unnecessary civilian deaths to growing antisemitism, I am buoyed by the friends who continue to make my immediate world make sense. 

Friends, in general, continue to be a bright spot, whether working out next to me, working in the cubicle next to me, sharing a meal or a text. 2025 has been a bright spot for highlighting the power of friendship. 

The little ones (toddlers) and young adults in my sphere continue to bring joy and delight. 

My elderly schnauzer (14+) who gave us a scare over a year ago but continues to age in bittersweet ways, brings me many moments of joy, each day. Oh Miggy, please continue to become an even older adorable fur baby.

There is always music and films and books and grateful moments of learning and escapism.

Around Halloween I decided that wishing the rest of the year away would be a frightful idea. I’d rather believe there are still good moments to come, in these last two months of the year.

So, I don’t wish for 2025 to end. I look for the moments, each day, where I can add value to those around me, seek fitness endorphins, revel in the bliss of simple rituals, enjoy hearty laughs and sneaky joys. These moments will help me successfully navigate the puddles I may need to jump over (hopefully, without being wobbly).

I’m ready for some clowning around.

My husband and I in quickly cobbled together costumes for a friend’s costume birthday party.

Sat with Nat

Nat’s committed to a winter bicycle commute

natalieh (she/her)2 Comments

Last year I rode until November 28th. We got a lot of snow and I didn’t bike to work again until March.

This year, with better balance and more skills I’m willing to give riding in the snow a go.

This morning I’m getting studded tires put on Myrna, my comfy commuter.

Here’s to a winter of cycling to work!

Martha is thinking about what matters (reblog)
fitness

Martha is thinking about what matters (reblog)

Sam B1 Comment

While Martha wrote this post in 2020, in some specific pandemic circumstances, fall 2025 hasn’t been particularly easy either. I enjoyed reading Martha’s list of five things that matter more than ever. It’s worth a reread, if you’re a regular follower of the blog. And if you’re new to this place, go check it out for the first time.

Looking ahead …
fitness

How bout those Jays, eh?

fieldpoppy2 Comments

I’m not a sports watching person, generally, but from the moment the Jays clawed their way into the playoffs, I was on board. I held off paying for Sportsnet for a few games, following live blogs and reddit and googling the replays. But two games into the series with the Yankees, I was all in. And then every moment of October, I had a constant faint buzz — when was the next game? Yesavage is a ROOKIE? Why is Vladdy so darned likable? Will Bo recover? MAD MAX wtf! Oh Ernie, you are the best.

I like a good bandwagon as much as the next person, but usually, I orbit it on the outside, enjoying the buzz in the air, occasionally high fiving someone as I pass a pub with an open patio and a big screen. But this time, I was out in front, watching every game in tandem and constant text with at least two friends. Within two weeks, I was making pronouncements about every player’s readiness, grace, incredible teamwork in chip chip chipping away at other teams’ surges. I developed rituals, nicknaming opposing players and taking myself out for a nervous walk around the neighbourhood if the Jays were behind at the top of the 7th. I started to love these boys. And to like the person I was as a fan.

Photo by Hugo Coulbouée on Unsplash

Partway through this ride, I realized I understood baseball for the first time in my six decades of life. I had a lightbulb moment when I was following the intricacies of a double play, admiring the arc of a throw and quick reflexes. Six months ago, I started medicating my lifelong, late-diagnosed female-brand ADHD. Thanks to Vyvanse, I could focus long enough to see the ballet of it all, the logic behind each pitch, the mastery of my baseball boyfriend Kirky’s catching. I could keep the players straight in my head, admire the loping golden retriever energy of Barger, the grit of Springer who kept getting back up there after he was pummelled with pitches over and over. Agonize as I watched the muscle in Trey’s jaw work as the 22 year old glistened with sweat but otherwise, showed no sign of the crazy pressure of this moment. And when I didn’t get it, I had google and my friend Alistair, who could explain everything.

It all ended on Saturday night, of course, with an unexpected game 7. I watched game 6 at Susan’s with friends, our Halloween costumes gradually peeling off as the game got more intense. But game 7, I was home alone, with the cats and a couple of group chats for company.

Well, friends, I lost my mind. I had so much nervous energy that at one point, I found myself watching the game, decanting turkey stock, and then having to mop the floor. Naked, for some reason I can’t explain. I guess I was hot. When Bo hit his three run homer, I screamed so loudly the cats didn’t come back for an hour.

I tried hiding under the cushions from the outdoor patio that were drying before I could put them away for the winter, and I tried dancing out my yayas in the between innings. Finally, in the tied up 8th, I took myself outside, to one of the pubs with the big screen and the people on the street. (I put clothes on).

Somehow, among this crowd of hosers, I found myself with a Molson Canadian in one hand and a Player’s Light in the other. I don’t think I’ve drunk a molson since 1985, and I know the last time I had a cigarette was pride in 2006. But there I was, full on fan, agonizing as the game slip slip slipped away.

When the tragedy of errors that was the 9th inning ground to an end, I realized I’d gotten what I needed. I loved the team. I loved everyone I was watching with. I loved the cars honking as they went by. I loved the sense of community and shared hope and fucking Canadianness of it all.

Being a Canadian in the era of Trump has been uneasy at best. Pierre Trudeau once said that to the US that “living next to you is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, if I can call it that, one is affected by every twitch and grunt.” Never has that beast outright snarled at us as much as it has in 2025.

Elbows up is one thing. But elbows linked, around these Jays? That was everything I needed. Everything we needed to remind ourselves who we are.

After I left the pub, I was scooting home to witness what felt inevitable at that point. The streets of my neighbourhood were dark, and away from the pub, quiet. A streetcar rumbled by. I passed a older guy leaning against a wall who asked me the location. He was very drunk. “Queen and Coady,” I said, briskly, continuing on.

A few seconds later, I paused and went back. “Do you need some help?”

“Please,” he said.

I saw that he was talking to someone on the speaker for his phone. I took it from him and asked the person on the other end what the guy needed. The other person was at a shelter and asked me to get the guy a cab, gave me the address.

A cab? Like phoning a taxi? I was clearly time traveling.

I phoned Beck taxi and navigated the phone tree. I asked the guy if he wanted me to wait while the cab came. He nodded. “I just want to go home. You are an angel.” His name was Ralph.

The cab came, and there was a lot of kerfuffle about if the driver could take someone to a shelter without a guarantee of payment. He told me how to phone Beck and talk to a person and I kept messing it up. I had no cash on me. “Oh!” Ralph said, suddenly. “I have money!” He handed me his wallet. “Can I get in now?” He had $25 in his wallet, in fives. I gave four of them to the driver.

The cab driver took over, handing Ralph a bag in case he needed it. “I kinda think he’s used to being this drunk,” I said. The heroic cab driver nodded. I left.

I checked the score on my phone as I walked the rest of the way, but I didn’t care. Winning didn’t matter. It was the community of it all that mattered. Being honest with myself, if I hadn’t felt so connected to the community around me in that moment, I probably would have keep walking after I’d tossed “Queen and Coady” at Ralph.

The Jays lost. But I didn’t. And I don’t think we lost as a community, or as a country. We found each other.

Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede-Desmarais, who keeps remembering the time her dad got fired for one day for skipping out on his teaching job to go to a Detroit Tigers World Series game in 1968.