A Midsummer Night's Dream (?)

A fabulous weekend, here and gone.  Ideal weather for a tour of the southern portion of the Province.  Another phone call from the vinyard booth.  Cape Split for the 6th time (at least).  A new Airbnb discovery for future Evergreen Theatre adventures, perhaps.  Confirmation of the joy to be found on the back side of Brier, if the right property/land ever came available.  Karmic justice of a punctured tire to punish your disbelief after a first visit to the quiet of the Mill Village.

In all, a meditative yet 24-hour energy visit – full of sunrises and sunsets, questions and answers, gurus and the endless search for wine at the tavern.  Billable hours from a full bed the perfect Monday morning happy ending.    

Lots to ponder.  The sharp relief of news from Thailand on the trip's eve enough to set the life choices to come into even deeper context.  It is always later than you think.  

Yet there are moments.  Softer, faster.  I wonder.       

Flat

For fuck's sake.

Monday, Monday

The weekend worked out.  Motivation lacking, with so much sleep to catch up on after bender weeks that it may have been unavoidable.  But success nonetheless - did make it to McNab's for a rejuvenating hike and overnight on the cliff, with safe home before the thunderstorm.  Avoidance of the booze key, and nice to read of the Nomad while procrastinating.  Not the same story, but certain themes resonate.  Eventually, the necessary pre-clean for the cleaners got done as well, although still desperately need to finish this overdue book for the library at some point today.

Along with an extension application, it looks like.  Seems the only way forward, and probably the right one given timelines and uncertainties.  Not sure how the schedule will be impacted, hopefully the Board will not screw you on the Barca days.  In the end, as you know, it matters little, and work can be done from afar.  So long as the counsel's back holds out...

Good news in that the Schengen visa has been secured, and with multiple entries at that.  First week of September in Barca promises to a compelling one.  As I said on the rate call this morning, stay tuned.

Today is that Girl

Another day of reckoning for ADC.  Whether it survives I know not, but onward we roll in the sunshine.  The ET anniversary, and the randomness of an unrecognizable sight at Superstore.  Were you spotted as well, or do you look as changed?  Cat on the berm looked aged too, the swagger there and yet an inflated version of her younger self that saddens more than anything.  Time is always there.

Still, a good show, Puck of old played Hal well, and the inclusion of Falstaff was nicely done.  So many over the years.  I sigh for many a thing I sought.  Only the master can put the words just so.  For some reason, Nym's lines stood out this time:

I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may sleep, and they may have their throats about them at that time; and some say knives have edges.  It must be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.  There must be conclusions.  Well, I cannot tell.

Then the hilarity of memory lane, the VHS tapes for sale at Gigantic under the condo of skittles those many years ago.  The photos taken and the choice of Changing Lanes.  The ability of chance to mess with the direction of a life; the message that choice is always present amidst the chaos, and that there is a covenant not to go batshit.  Asking for a name on the beach, and leaving...  Good lessons all.

Tomorrow a cleaning and cleansing should begin, perhaps a sail as well, with Nasser and his follies.  And on update on the regulatory path forward?  The passion and concern shown over money by those who have too much of it continues to amaze, although that is surely how they arrived at it in the first place.  We shall see.  Time to take some pictures of some spoons.  Remember that?

“Many Years From Now”

Imagine to think how one can use this device to restore the memory so easily.  We sit on the wall where Shari did.  Where the Sub-Scotia Stone lay.  Where the deer and the Anton and the bricks and Joel Plaskett...

Braveheart was the source, that many years.  Stirring and obvious, which side is right.  Why is it not happening now?  Send her back first chanted tonight.  Sad indeed.

987...

Another (theoretical) possibility up in smoke, or so it seems.  The orange colour emerges to symbolize the pending status change.  It is not hard to guess at why, the price point was an enticing one.  Had the moose not been hit, I wonder if an effort might not have been made to get there sooner...  I have my doubts. 

It is a funny feeling, though.  A sense of loss, perhaps, at the possibility of what might have been on that small island facing the open sea.  Even as the necessary actions would have inevitably wrecked upon the reality of having to rush out for a car and begin incurring new costs and commitments... when the summit/aftermath of Barcelona really needs tending to first.

So we roll on.  On a happier note, it cleans up the itinerary for next week nicely.  If time permits, even Cape Split could be on, weather depending, along with the wineries and time to settle in to the dock by the bay.  An opportunity for centering, to set up a platform where the shifting of perspective is possible.  A doorway into a room where the mind can be changed. 

All of this after an epic weekend in Eskasoni witnessing democracy at its finest (oh, the stories!), only to return to see the absolute gutter of it on display from the White House.  Nice press conference from the Squad just now.  The future is before us, for all to see.  Let history's judgment be a good one.

Mosquitoes and Adventists

What are you doing?  Truly?  Skipping out on the rich person’s golf because you can, driving the rented blue minivan around as you wait for the time to pass before attending this reception and dinner that you’d rather run miles from.  Sometimes the fly on the wall role can be fun, but not when things are expected of you and the foolery becomes fakery.

The sound of the waves is nice, as are the colours blue.  I want to know the next best thing to do.  

The “jealous housewife” embarrassment of last night amidst the Celine Dion lyrics was classic, as was the screams and manic nature of the loving Clarke boys.  Hard to see the Alobar idea in that context, but one does not know.

The mosquitoes at the park earlier were vicious, and inspired the thought that maybe the leaving of 91 acres in her memory was partly in jest.  The young kids roaming around this strange camp.  Where  do they come from?  Where are they going?

I must go change in their communal bathroom and head off.  Soon it will be over and the open road in front of you will be open.  Where will the thoughts lie?  On Tancook, where they are now?  You need to make a list and figure out what the circumstances may be where that does not make sense in conjunction with the writerly plan, in which the condo goes for sale next year...  can an island princess be enticed there for a time, even for a year would make it worth it.  

It may be the time and place.  Go see if it is.

1742 Days

Totality in Chile.   684 days since Tennessee, so if trying to mark the time between Mexico or Texas, you'd be 28% of the way there.  Not bad, not bad at all.

Funny it should come up, today, after the thoughts yesterday about the new orientation for the MFA.  The focus on time.  OF COURSE the subject of the eclipse would need a chapter, in the Annie tradition, capturing so many tangents.  The fixed dates, the methods and certainty of prediction, ancient history, the shadow of the moon, syzygy, the temperature drop, the sharpness and unfamiliarity of the surroundings, the way the blackest of dots just "pops" into being...  how time moves within it.  2024 seems the surest thing.

Another random tangent - June 20, 2001 in Zambia mentioned, the first of the 21st century and a companion to the one today, whatever that means.  I have asked if it is recalled, and I wonder about the response.

Dr. Al asked about the PhD today, and then, like Amar, expressed skepticism about the marital status.  An excellent guy as always, sharp and I loved the hand-holding on their walk back to the boat.  It does make you wonder.  Start...  all... over... again...?  Ha.  Maybe.

There is so much to read, so much time to devote to it.  Crystal is their cruise of choice.  I wonder about that.  A(nother) way around the world yet?

Eclipse Day in SA

Canada Day weekend is over.  Slothful.  I blame the rain.  It was nice to get out and see Carmen and take the boat to the fireworks.  Start all over again, indeed.  This time I sat and enjoyed the scene, and the sail back in was a short beauty.  Need to take the boat out for a proper long distance trek, perhaps past Big Tancook?

Oh yes, that was news from this weekend.  987.  In some lights it seems the perfect address of the future, in others a headache not worth the hassle, and one that cannot be settled on before Barca.  (I assume that plan is recorded here somewhere, as the Schengen visa awaits?)  Nice to dream, over games of hearts and twitter obsessions that must end in favour of cleaning up this atrocity of an apartment...

Al Rosenberg in town tomorrow, if you believe it.  Just as the new tariff is being written and just after last year’s visit from Mr. Gubbins.  The options are there if you are brave enough to seize them.

That includes the MFA, fast approaching.  The idea of the weekend is back to the Kitchener bridge, true stories about the nature of time.  It fits, for a pitch, perhaps.  How to make it seem less disjointed?  Trauma, love, work, travel, etc.  It can be done.  Go to it.  For the longest time..