Free Will in what sense?

Lack of writing time, amid the techno beats and the NSP foolishness, and of course AA obligations.  But at last the work is done until Monday and the rum is going right to the feet and head.

Thoughts about tattoos and the more than million to one shot of every north putting paid to the notion of our decisions dictating our fate rather than the opposite, the ridiculous body shapes of the tourists, the fooling ourselves that how we shape the future is within such a narrowly defined predetermined band.  The mystery remains in the who, deity or randomness or other, but idea of any form of control we have fooled ourselves into us at such an elementary level as to be ridiculous.  The slant from Dublin as metaphor.  Build on that.  

I still don’t know how we get to everything done within the week that needs doing, but presumably you’ll manage.

Until then keep thinking theme and title.  Craft will come.

As Big as Mars and Jupiter

Greetings from the Cancun strip.  Early to bed and early to rise for the oceanview sunrise.  Little dude is thriving once again, eating enormous amounts of the all-inclusive, as he and pregnant Mama make up for their lack of booze consumption.  As family-friendly a resort as you could find, which is not something I did an incredible amount of due diligence on but certainly happy with how it turned out.

No real writing to date, as even the all-inclusive nature of the place requires effort with the infant.  But the good kind of family effort.  And as a different form of travel, still figuring out the methods to such madness.

Some new thoughts - the way the texture of the sandy beach displaced by footprints resembles the macroscale of the wind swept dunes of the Sahara; discovering that what people mean by "it goes so fast" is (perhaps) actually that there is no reaching back, once the babe reaches a new stage, the prior one is forever lost to the past, growth is relentlessly forward and memory is a weak compensatory tool compared to the march of time; the alignment of Mars and Jupiter and the moon last night strangely wonderous in the incomplexity of the skies; the sales pitch of the vacation club folks trying to sell you on multiple return trips, when the real joy is in new experiences and to keep moving.

The beach here is glorious for watching the snow-like surf of light blue waves crashing toward us, but not for the type of casual swimming that is also a goal of such trips.  Perhaps a walk later, if I choose to venture out.  Oh yes, that was the last though I meant to capture, the power of shade.  Without it, we might last a few minutes, thanks to this little tiki hut, can spend the whole live-long day. 

The Grand Banker Cement Steps

Car down.  The preceding events leading to this...  Board sets the hearing date, on the South Shore, for Valentine's.  Client requests your involvement.  Dockside Inn booked.  Snowstorm starts.  Need for food, formula, flowers, cards, wine, full chocolate Magnum.  The third stop at Kinley's and Dad's birthday card.

But nothing forced the turn down Duke Street, the steepest on the best of days.  How long did those seconds of total non-control last.  The fear, the frustration, the knowledge of powerlessness.  The freezing in the moment, no emergency break, no horn, no nothing.  

There was luck on your side, too.  No oncoming cars, no collision with a parked one that would have triggered immediate insurance and the like.  Damage that remains to be fully appreciated, but Corkums (towing, not mussel farm) to the rescue.  Something to be said for professionals who know their shit.  (Imagine the additional disaster if you let those boys try their luck with that rope!)

Safely parked down by the Bluenose.  Hopefully in steady shape to get to Mahone and back and to Maplewood.  Then we'll book a trip to the dealership to assess the damage for after the return from Cancun.  Oh yeah, booked that too.  Glad I waited the extra day, the price dropped just enough to pay for the two job, funnily enough.  

Legal MFA assignment in, last of the Fantini to come from the Angry Orchard pint glass.  Lots of wings left for breakfast.  This was originally going to be about yesterday, the Super Bowl of idiotic frustration at the length of another hair appointment and stress at IKEA construction that all actually turned out well.  You need to control your own moods.  Learn that despite you recovering quickly, others do not, and so airing a moment of frustration is worthless in the grand scheme.  I implore you, we have a long way to go, learn.

How beautifully did she react and respond to the car down over the steps.  The instant calm, the gathering of the child, into the pub.  Just a complete mess and her reaction in the fray was as quietly and instantly supportive as is imaginable.  Not a shadow of blame, the opposite.  I love her so.

As Nick would say, you walk away with a $400 bill but a lifetime memory.  Never again will you walk past downtown Lunenburg without pausing at the spot, admiring the steepness of slope, the slightly dented railing, the view to the Bluenose.  Quite unbelievable, the preceding events.  Chasing you away from the normal, and from any ambitions in Mehico.  "I heard a guy drove into a house," said the guy at the Irving.  I have given the town's gossip mill one better.  Who would have thought it?

Thanks Merlyn.  Would name a son after ya, but my darling wife has other plans for a daughter...  Remember.

Just a Curious Question

Remember the Condo Complaint?  Feener et al.  "Assumably," you do.  One to mark in the memory, as many years hence, when you have concluded service (no pun intended) for the Water corp., and Commissioners Melanson and Clark (and you) are on the way out, it would be a transcript to cast your eyes back on.  And recall the Hollis, and the Old T, and all the other balancing to be done this month before the hoped for Cancun expedition.  If only this week's sunwing price was available next week, or the Valentine's hearing was pushed out a week, but alas.  The uncertainty is fun, and appropriate given questions surrounding family member #4.  

You follow the road over which you have no control, waiting to see what is next around the bend.  To the extent it can all be done with a smile, as today, with its curious questions, rejoice.  Dowry story is written.  Fiesta lyrics from Shane are glorious.  Guinness #3 is best, number 5 is indulgent, but what can you do?

Watch the pint as you watch the oysters as you watch the clock and see the room fill up and the noise increase.  "The reality..."  

An inspired choice, to push the argument, and then turn in here rather than toward the bus following the exit.  United is losing at the half, long may it continue.  I have 15 minutes to get to the ferry, and then my wife and son.  Imagine saying that pre-pandemic.  The possibilities of this universe are wild and wonderful.  Animo peregrino.

Maisie

Almost 97.  A husband who died before you were born, before the parents were married in fact.  What evidence that there is a reunion in the works in the afterlife, other than human aspiration?  None, but let it be so.  It is nice to think on.  So much to update, in the true time traveler fashion, where one party gets immediate access after the other has laboured a long wait of uncertainty until the glorious truth.

It concerns me not, for now.  I do not get a sense it concerned Nanny either, realist that she seemed to be.  What do you think of it all? she asked.  Who knows what she really thought of losing her love so young, never changing her name, never remarrying.  My two grandmothers clearly the ones who, despite growing up in rural areas in the 1920s and 1930s, gave me the travel bug.  Why did it take me so long to realize it?

No matter.  Rest, my lovely, and well done in such a peaceful and wondrous transition out of this one, with the six children you birthed (all so distinct) at your side.  How would I have reacted to the news as a bachelor, I wonder.  Oh Nanny, you beat the Queen.  Say hello on your way by to the cheaper sections, and ask her, what she thinks, would ya?  

Sixteen Hundred and One

Back again, this time for the Port of the River, wondering whether we are in for sweet waters or a car crashing into a tempest.  Stay tuned.  Feels as though we might escape, but only those who see into the hours hence know for certain. 

The writing has been put off until this evening, too late to deliver the end product ready for contest submission, but hopefully a combination of 5000 words that is passable for an initial attempt.  I think we have the building blocks to work with.

Appearing today before some old colleagues from another life, now new members.  Who have just entered the room, so on y va.