(no subject)

Dry sidewalks allow me to errand into previously ice-bound wastes, so I now have wine (for next door) and salt stain remover (for my boots, since it seems ammonia is no longer sold anywhere. What shall we do for smelling salts, I ask me?) Also is official: I walk into the shoe repair store (only place that sells salt remover) in my foofy rose pink hat and mauve-lavender-rose pink scarf, and am addressed as Sir by the middle-aged white Torontonian male owner. Rose pink is no longer a gender marker in this culture, which I suppose is good; coats *are* gender markers, which is enh; but coats that are not cloth (cloth is useless in winter) and tailored female (buttons, nipped waist, patch pockets if any) are read male by default. No wonder the unisex comfy middle-aged confuse so many people.
( February reading )