Our Traveller

If thou wouldst stand on Etna's
     burning brow,
With smoke above, and roaring
     flame below;
And gaze adown that molten
     gulf reveal'd,
Till thy soul shudder'd and thy
     senses reel'd. - 

If thou wouldst beard Niag'ra in his pride,
Or stem the billows of Propontic tide;
Scale all alone some dizzy Alpine "haut",
And shriek "Excelsior!" amidst the snow. -  

Wouldst tempt all deaths, all dangers that may be, -
Perils by land, and perils on the sea, -
This vast round world, I say, if thou wouldst view it, -
Then why the dickens don't you go and do it.

Why indeed.  And so you leave tonight, a liar and what odds at that.  It will work itself out for the best and you can prove the ability to sneak.  If caught, who cares.  One life, live it up, 'cause we got one life.  6 year anniversary, and a bill of another $25K in your name goes out to be paid.  So it is.  Playlist #2 write-up on the go, after drunken rambling amidst the crazy Kavanaugh hearing, to be mailed this afternoon.  So. it. is. 

Company.  Othello.  Storm.  Lear.  Lupone. Rylance. Pryce. McKellan.  With Arsenal as a teaser and an electronica Robottin in Venice to close?  Oh my.  Much to look forward to as you escape, the boat a bit knocked, but aren't we all.  She has been a beauty, last night remembering over the wine was fun. 

My oh my.   Safe travels, McMahon.  As you start the fire-sale and begin planning the real escape by this time next year.  Have the courage to "go and do it" as the poet says.  There is no reason why not.

It's Probably Not In the Cards... so what is?

The KS reply after a few days.  Not a surprise, and likely for the best.  A bit of a shame though, could have been fun.  Wonder if there are ways it might have played out to a different result.  No matter.  The mind turns toward the return to the old London haunts, and the newness of Venice.  Airborne once again this time next week.

How funny the way in which the world turns, the flight prices now as cheap or better than when the booking was made in July.  No matter there either.  We are locked in and ready for the escape of it.  The magic of the stage and Thames and even, I think, a return to the old Willow tree in Oxford.  Oh so many years later, and I sense it could be the last chance for a bit.  Best to take it.

Some new thoughts on the cards for this trip, the House of Illustration near King's Cross and Memorial at the Barbican.  Plus of course the randomness of the unknown cruise encounter and festival of the Most.  Worthy of stories all.  But shall you write them formally through the program, or should the Ahab dream be renewed with vigour now that, as expected, the captain's daughter has failed to live up to the task.  Nice to have that door swing open, although the lack of car remains on the mind for sure.  Nice to have the conversation post-wedding and see what flows from there.  More resignations today, another sign you need not wait.

Go enjoy the Friday afternoon sail, my son.  Pack your bags I want to take you home...

Sunrise, Interrupted

Quite the day yesterday, still trying to assess the long-term damage, if any.  Brain seems a bit fuzzy and neck somewhat stretched, but nothing that seems to require professional attention.  Amazingly.

I do wonder how fast you might have been going in that straight-away, how the moose could have appeared out of nowhere like that, how you managed to get down the mountain and to safety and coffee and a shower and Cheticamp and home.  A blur all told, the acceleration of time and the surrealness.  Need to write it down properly.

Good to be alive.  To live through the North, grab your things and head for home, heart going - boom, boom, boom.  I will get to you someday, Meat Cove.  Someday.

A Last Hurrah

Last night was the first class of the final Energy Law go-around, as the thinking continues to evolve and fall into place.  It becomes harder and harder to be inspired by the daily dose of legal work, and even if you were satisfied by the quality, the quantity is also lacking.  The extrication from SBTS was done with ease.  The unrehearsed Dream a quality way to end the season, Neptune's Yellow Sands and the unsaid verse about the mermaid on a dolphin's back and her dulcet, harmonious breath.  Re-remembered.  25 years gone, and you can enjoy in solitude once more, the quiet walks through woods under starry skies, without obligations...

Off to Auld's Cove for a long-awaited business development tour and the first trip to Cape Breton of the season.  I hope I can make it to Meat Cove, but we shall see, since the return by Sunday night needs doing.  Fishing Cove also an option?  We shall see how best to do it as we scheme up the weekend plans in the coming hours.  Perhaps there will be sharks, too.

Meanwhile, S non-schmoozes in DC as part of the new gig, the hilarity of selfies with politicos in power, and triggering visions of another get-away location and why in the near term, time may be the most valuable of commodities.  Jealousy lingers too, as always, but so be it, that is the way of the world, the ridiculousness of the mind.  Head to China and Tibet and Nepal to conquer it... 

That seems, more and more, the next plan.  Antarctica in the bag, the investment in Lavena's looking less likely as the vagabond MFA option whirls more temptingly into view.  One more year, and then a two year present to yourself.  Two books to write - the memoirs and the politics.  As interest rates rise and the freedom of the road beckons, the idea of owning the shack on the ocean recedes, slightly.  The options have not presented themselves, more like.  We shall see what drops in the months to come.  But proceed wisely.  And on the basis that June-July-August next year is the time for renewal...  It is falling, slowly, into place.

Cannon Cronopios

The annual pilgrimage to the Fort McNab cannon and another bottling for the ages.  The back-to-back trips around the island courtesy of the Southerly breeze.  Stories and music.  And reincarnating Satchmo and Cortazar for the proceedings.  Words and sounds that may last as long as forever.  A good night, and recorded for her, as you await that verdict.  A long time without communication even though truly it has only been hours.  Madness.  How will it end?

How will it all end, at that?  Visit by the office from B today, just checking in and yet an undertone of concern, perhaps...  I cannot see these days lasting.  The motivation to check out is too grand.  Where it will lead, I know not, but the 40th is the time to begin anew, there is no doubt.  By then the 5 years will almost have ended.  Be brave enough.  I have no doubt you will, when the time comes.