(no subject)

The world is quiet- muffled under a curtain of thick snow. The loft, usually noisy, is quiet and peaceful. People talk in low voices or don't talk at all.

This morning I was talking to man at my bus stop. He told me that retirement was hard, especially the first month because you have nothing to do an no where to go. It's hard because people just put you away and forget about you. It's hard because you're no longer needed.

He was on his way to go volunteering- to get out of the house. Good for him.

He also told me that people don't take him seriously: "You're old- what do you know?" and ended up quitting his job as a social worker and concillor because no one listened to him. "I've been through the wringer" he said, and it's true. You'd think people would trust the experience of their elders rather than scorn it. It's true that young people faced issues that their grandparents never had to, but that doesn't mean their advice is bad.

There's swing dance lessons tonight.

Dancing in the snow.

Hiding from the snow in ICT 116. A fortress of glass and washrooms but no water fountains.

The quiet is comfortable, cosy, like a bookstore coffee shop.