first of all, i don’t know why i parked too far away when there were still heaps of available spaces that were closer to the venue. well, it wasn’t really that too far away. it’s just that…

second of all, of all the days i had to wear a rather flowy skirt, i had to pick a day where it was windy as. which happened to be that day. but you know, melbourne weather. the b**ch is full of surprises.

so, anyway, apparently every sunday except the berwick show weekend, there’s this lively market in one of berwick’s parks that brings together all these vendors selling arts and crafts, fresh organic produce, secondhand books, and bread. lots and lots of bread. bread of all sizes and kinds and shapes.

my dad, who sincerely loves bread, would’ve liked it here. i would’ve happily snapped some pictures of them in all their brown glory but (a) i didn’t have the camera with me because; (b) my hands were obviously full pushing raven; and (c) even if i did, i would probably be too shy to do it. because, come on, who the heck takes pictures of a bread display?!

the almond croissant jeff and i shared was delicious. seriously, if you’re into freshly baked homemade goodness such as bread and pastries, you’d probably wanna pop by the market and grab enough to last you until doomsday.

like i said, they have several stalls offering arts and crafts stuff. so imagine my delight when i found this knitting shop which also carried some, albeit limited, crochet items. they’ve been there for 2 years, the owner said. she also said that they needed to move on to greener pastures so basically it was their last day and that if i wanted to know about their whereabouts, i should just ask the old lady selling cookies 2 or 3 stalls down to update myself.

such is the irony of life. but i’m not really fussed as i buy my drugs crochet fix online anyway.

during one of my walks along the aisles, something happened that left me quite unsettled. i’ll try to explain it the best way i can as i usually suck at explaining in english (or just explaining, period.) but see, there i was busy minding my own business, looking at the displays on the tables, blah, blah, blah, when this woman and her kid walked in from a side door. they were positioned to go in the opposite direction. as space was pretty tight, i saw her pull her kid close to her to make room for me and my stroller while she talked to her daughter about courtesy and giving way to other people. and me, thinking that i had right of way anyway, hesitated for a moment before moving along.

and then i heard the woman say, “normally she would say ‘thank you’…”

that bothered me. i mean, i don’t think i’m a rude person (well, i like to believe i’m not.) but for some reason, that remark made me feel like i was. i felt judged. and at the risk of sounding defensive, i do acknowledge other people’s politeness with a smile or a thank you. just maybe not on that day because, i don’t know. i was distracted. you know, just floating in my own bubble.

so then, the overthinker in me was suddenly in overdrive. it got me wondering on how best to teach my own daughter about courtesy. of course i’d want to teach her about being nice to other people and doing what’s right but at the same time, i also kind of don’t want her to expect anything in return because sometimes, people may not return the favor and she’d be disappointed or worse, it would make her… i don’t know… haughty?

it’s kind of like being so religious that you look down on people who aren’t as godly as you.

so, yeah, that incident really got me contemplating about my own personal morals and values. at the end of the day, i guess it’s all about being kind for kindness’ sake. and while it is nice for that kindness to be recognized, you can’t hold it against people who may not give you the kind of “thank you” that you think you deserve or judge them for it.

your kindness is your gift to the world. unconditional. wholehearted. freely given. no strings attached.

and i apologize if i sound so preachy already. must have been the coffee i had late last night. it’s 4:03 am. i’m waiting for sleep or for hypoglycemia to kick in, whichever comes first.

this is my soliloquy.

*raven at 9 months old