Of Sharks and Oral Histories

And so the summer has ended with the start of another school year, the nights a little cooler and the thoughts drifting to dwell on the hurricane and harvest season, and another winter ahead.  Last weekend finished up with a farewell to the Europa, from the Ovens as planned, and this past Saturday provided some preparation for Drake's swell on Mellow Yellow.  Some surprising success in the hunt for sharks, too, although the search continues for the tooth.  A day that will stay with me for a long time to come, says the mill manager, who ultimately retrieved his laptop from the rap-playing cigar boat where it had surprisingly found its way from DYC in a roundabout rescue.

Work remains slow.  The loss of the mentee today another sign of the dwindling responsibilities presaging the firm departure and the charting of new courses, new dawns.  The suspicion remains that the complete break is required, if only to force a change to the stale routine.  In order to get a chance at a more complete and "well rounded" life, to quote the interviewer in the random Irvington oral history discovered this afternoon.  The motivation is lacking to fully begin the new hobby.  Such a difficult thing to do, to change.  But done it must be / be done it must.

The days have all the feeling of a farewell tour pre-bark.  The Shear visit past, the trip to the Magdalens and Ottawa fest upcoming.  What else to be explored before the sign off in February?  The fact that the inspiration is hard to find is perhaps the best proof of the shake-up required. 

To be discussed...