Does The "Boss" Really Know What He Is Doing?

Lazy Saturday.  Lie-in after a busy Friday at the Board and then H1.  No time to draft a note from within those walls, on EF's birthday, but likely there will be, come the fall... And no desire to start the moose encounter story until the morrow.

(points if you can remember the identity of EF, in years to come... think of your best client...)

The fall.  Three months away, and the mind set to wondering how it might look.  The potential trip to mark its start on the Labour Day weekend for a second NLD.  Then, ideally, Montserrat and the Eels in Barca, before a double Westjet flight back, proper Visas in hand.  Can you imagine it?  All too easily, in fact.

Maybe the Boss does know what is happening?  I would scarce believe it, yet I can agree that there seems an underlying magic at work.  Midsummer's Night seems to line up perfectly for that weekend, and the rest we leave to the outcome of meetings continents away. 

The autumn timing fits.  To sit, together, and consider the fate and future.  Make key introductions.  Consider the condo, the office.  Whether the MFA offers up some travel time after all, in pursuit of Caribbean and Central American and African dreams.  Tying all together.  Dreary November the moment for decisions.

For it would be a substantial path forward, trajectory-altering, even as it remains within your pace and control and coming as it does with such a lead time wherein the creeping gradualism itself helps convince of the path's correctness. 

Time is a curious beast, never more so in its coincidental workings here.  I cannot shake the sense that, from every angle, day and night, it all comes back around toward the same idea.  That the time, perhaps, impossibly, has come. 

Heh.  Wondrous strange.  And therefore as a stranger, give it welcome?