My mother's shopping lists were ordered by rules known only to her. As you slid your finger down the columns of groceries and toiletries, you would invariably be stopped by something along the lines of "2dozjumHerbal Essences" or "1pepperoni TC," with the "TC" underlined twice and flanked by gnarled masses of pencil scratch-outs. When we were kids, we dreaded accompanying her to Wal-Mart, or worse, the Cosco at the edge of town, where the echoing rafters and limitless aisles seemed to mock the confusion into which we were inevitably thrown when handed torn-off fragments of the list. Of course, it was easy enough to see in hindsight that "2dozjumHerbal Essences" was merely the bastard child of two drunkenly weaving columns--we had been supposed to get two dozen jumbo eggs and a bottle of my mother's favourite brand of shampoo (ever inventive in creating proprietary abbreviations--"TC" standing for, what else, thin crust pizza--my mother scrupulously wrote out brand names in full). It was a little like ordering chemicals for a laboratory, sans any knowledge of chemistry--or, for that matter, laboratories, although my ignorance of the distinction between baking soda and baking powder cannot be entirely the root of my confusion. Eventually I--and my siblings--learned the difference between tomato paste and tomato sauce, and could readily distinguish one brand of laundry detergent from a similarly-styled knock-off, but my shame-faced trips back to the mothercart never ceased. I would track her down, most often in the produce section--she was usually loath to trust us with the delicate task of selecting the very best fruits and vegetables--and hand her back my portion of the list, asking for an explanation. Usually it amounted to a failure of awareness on my part--get the kind of soap we always get, of course! How did the children learn which brands Mother wanted them to fetch? A. not enough information B. By mother picking the right one first for them C. By pictures of the item in a magazine D. By bringing the wrong item back to the mother cart
D

The wildfire smoke cleared on the morning of our family wedding, just in time for the bride and groom to say their vows overlooking coal harbour. We took this as a sign that we needed to book our Vancouver seaplane flight, to really explore the azure harbour waters and take in an eagle-eyed view of this city. I suppose it was ok oh, who am I kidding, the harbour is spectacular. Let me also point out that none of these images are touched by editing. Like 99% of my images in this blog (the other 1% is cropping and making slight adjustments), these are entirely un-doctored. We began as all good things do, by hanging out in their airport lounge, offered a mini-pastry and a hot beverage I adventurously went for an 'English Mist', an Earl-Grey Latte to make myself feel a little more soothed boarding a tiny propeller plane (note: it didn't work.) With a slightly chaotic boarding process (more noticeable after such a serene start) we were too busy sorting out the seats to realise that we had hopped on board, and within in seconds it seemed, our pilot had lifted off smoothly in a flurry of water foam. As we began to watch the world turn into a Lilliput version of itself, we barely blinked for watching beautiful vistas unfold. From tiny little islands (the above Passage Island technically belongs to West Vancouver, known as the Hollywood suburb of the city, and a couple of the homes are allegedly owned by celebrities) where the residents enjoy views of downtown Vancouver, the University of British Columbia campus, Vancouver Island, and the snow-capped mountains of Howe Sound to the fjords all the way along the Sea to Sky Highway to Whistler. They just scatter along the horizon, like a giant has skittered his toys along an azure sheet of silk. We looped around, looking back over the stunning Stanley Park and towering grid of Vancouver downtown buildings. From prehistoric forests, to gleaming silver confections of modernity. Who were the speakers' flying companions? A. Family. B. Photographers. C. Business associates. D. not enough information
D

Was it the things she told me or the situation I was in? I was working with someone who, basically, should never have been hired into the job, and then should not have been kept as long as she was. She was entirely inadequate for the role we performed. I was a new graduate and so lucky to get a job in my field, pretty much right out of university. We worked in a small office of three. The third was a sales rep and out visiting clients most of the time. She was, more or less, my superior, though the company made it clear that she was not someone to emulate yet gave me no one else to look to for advice or guidance. She would constantly say "this place will leave you to sink or swim" (amongst other phrases, all along these lines). That's probably the worst saying ever, though I can't really consider it ridiculous because, frankly, I absolutely see why she would say that (for example, I met my manager once during my interview and then the next time was about four months into being hired that should tell you the level of support given). But I cannot even explain to you the way this statement biased me against this company and the job I was doing. I was lost and truly believed that I couldn't do any better (because I was sinking and couldn't figure out how to swim on my own). Yes, you may have issues in whatever job your in but to tell a newbie that they have to figure it out on their own that's pretty ridiculous. If this is something you hear or think and asking others for help or finding a supportive environment is not an option try replacing it with "learn to fly on the way down". At the very least, you won't have such a negative frame of mind. Why was she a bad superior? A. She had no experience B. She was biased against the narrator C. She wasn't a bad superior. D. not enough information
B