Larry Gibbons
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ONLY HUMAN PLENTY OF TIMES

26/4/2021

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Picture
SALMON POOL'S TRAIL
“With the religious leader, the artist has the responsibility too of reminding us of the awe with which the handiwork of God is to be contemplated, so that we can perceive the spirituality manifest in the most ordinary human act or object.”
 Richard Demarco, Celtic Vision In Contemporary Thought    
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JENNA AND BROWNIE BEAR ENJOYING THE HIKE
Last week, Vincent, Vincent’s daughter Jenna, Jenna’s teddy bear, whose name is Brownie Bear and I hiked on the Salmon Pool’s trail. We often hike this trail and usually stop at the little cabin for a drink and a snack.

It was a wet one so we all had to wear rain-coats. I dislike rain-coats. They cover up my fashion choices.


​During the break, Vincent made a tea for me to drink with my lunch. After lunch Jenna and Brownie Bear gave us a little puppet show.
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PUPPET SHOW
The table in the cabin is covered in sheets that were torn out of one of those little calendar booklets. Each one has a riddle like, “What did one snowman say to the other snowman? Do you smell carrots?” Hahaha.

Anyway, the hikers who stop at the cabin, write their names, maybe a little note of appreciation for the beauty they are witnessing and where they are from.
So, after Vincent had boiled the water, I pulled out my mug, and Vincent poured hot water into it.

“I only have cream. Is that okay?” He said to me.
I said it was, but only because there wasn’t any milk. I drink my tea fairly weak and cream can be over-powering.

​After we ate our lunches which included the cookies that Jenna made, and after Jenna and Brownie Bear did their puppet show, we began to pack up.
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HIKING ALONG CHETICAMP RIVER
Vincent, at one point, walked over and said, “Didn’t you use the tea bag I gave you?”

Well, in my defence, I have to say that the bag must have gotten buried under all the calendar jokes and then became unburied. So, there I had been, sipping merrily away, at my hot cream and water drink.


I was somewhat embarrassed, but then began to explain that it wasn’t age that made me do that, but it was just the way I was. I mean really now, half my creative efforts come about because I trip over the obvious and end up in a world that wasn’t contemplated by myself.


​“Oh yeah,” I said. “I was just as stupid when I was in my early twenties.”
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VINCENT POINTING OUT SOMETHING OF INTEREST
For example, I had a date with a nursing student. I was about 21 years of age. She lived at a nursing residence in an Ontario city. I was nervous. 

​So, I was driving down the highway at a fairly fast clip when I noticed a sign which said I was only ten miles from the city. However, I realized that being ten miles from this city meant that I was sixty miles from the city I was supposed to be travelling to. I was heading west. I should’ve been heading east.

​That was our last date.
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INVESTIGATING ALONG BROOK
One day when I was in my thirties, I came home from work. I wondered why the front door was open and my ex was inside. My question was, as I jumped out of the car of the kind fella who gave me a ride home from work, where the hell was our vehicle?

​I walked into the house and said to my wife, “Where is the car. Did something happen to it?”

“You took it to work this morning.”


So, I had to hitch-hike back to my place of work and drive the car back home. 


​She’s now an ex.
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MY THINKING SPOT
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OUR WEE POND
I’ll skip my forties and fifties, too much data.

One day when I was in my sixties, and in my defence, I was very tired as I had been doing a lot of driving, I made another error of sorts.


What happened is that I was at an outdoor party. Only a few days before I had bought a hamburger at a hamburger joint and found, maybe because my imagination was going a little wild, that I could actually taste the cow. I’m not sure which cow, but a cow.


However, the hamburger at this gathering had no cow taste to it. I complimented our host for her great hamburgers. Why they were so delicious and un-cow-like that I went back to the kitchen for another one.


It was while I was adding all the accoutrements to the bun that I had a eureka experience.


​When I did up the last hamburger I hadn’t added a meat patty. 
Picture
SECTION OF GRAND FALAISE
Picture
OUR SCREEN CHEWER
So you see, the hot cream and water drink was no big deal and I’ve got plenty more examples that are spotted throughout my illustrious tea-less-drink-life.
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READING AND REAXING
​Last week, Torey and I hiked on the Le Chemin Du Buttereau Trail. It was a gorgeous day, but we should have brought a saw. Every few hundred feet we either had to climb over, under or through a windfall. One area was so thick with downed trees that I had to push some big logs over before we could work our way through. All the time trying not to get poked or prodded by sharp branches.
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Torey working her way. through a wee blockade
Along the trail there are little signs that indicate that a homestead used to be at that spot. We noted that as in this age two children seem to be the norm, in those days ten or more were.
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Lots of children
The view of the Cheticamp River entering the Gulf of St. Lawrence was spectacular. We could see, down below, people fishing and one person riding a horse along the beach.

​Oh and I did something rather stupid this day too, but I won’t go into any details.

​We are so blessed to be living in Cape Breton. A place where I have plenty of beautiful space to carry out my unorthodox behaviour.
Picture
PERFECT SPOT TO HANG OUT AFTER GETTING VACCINATION
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TOO MUCH BLOG MATERIAL

10/4/2021

2 Comments

 
PictureEARLY MORNING GATHERING

“Looking back over the first 50 years of my career, I can find nothing that I have done that is worthwhile. At the age of 73 I have at last arrived at the point where I can perceive the true form and characteristics of birds, animals and plants. Thus my true life as an artist is just beginning.”
                     Katsushika Hokusai 
Maybe there’s hope for me.
Picture
WALKING ON RED ISLAND BEACH
After I posted the last blog I said to Sue, “Sometimes, I barely get a blog out when another blog pops up.” 

Because, after I posted the blog and only a few days later, I was, against my will, sliding down an icy mountainside. 


​What happened is that on Sunday we hiked one of Jalal’s mountain trails. The hike began with us wearing ordinary foot-wear, part way up it became foot-wear with spikes and then it became foot-wear with spikes while hanging onto a long rope.
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HANGING ONTO THE ROPE
However, once we got to the top we were treated to a gorgeous view.

​On the way back we took what was called the easier route. Part way down, the easier route became the harder route. The soft fluffy snow became hard icy snow. So, there was Vincent and I hugging a tree while Jalal, who was wearing mountaineer’s spikes on his boots, cautiously worked his way down the icy mountain. He used his spikes to smash foot-holds into the ice for us. It was almost impossible for me to break the ice and snow with my pointed ski pole.
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ENJOYING THE VIEW
Then it was our turn to put our footsies into his foot-holds and very carefully work our way down. On our asses. I, in a moment of induced stupor, removed my mitts. I thought this might give me a better hand-grip if I needed my hands to grip something.

​Anyway, I managed to get my wide-toed boot into one foot-hold and then it was free-Willy. I was sliding down the mountain-side, on the Sabbath even. Quickly gaining speed and without knowing whether to pray to God or be an atheist and mentally arrange my books while I whipped through a mountainous cartoon world.
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ENJOYING THE VIEW THROUGH THE MAGIC RECTANGLE
As I careened down the mountain I managed to grab a tiny fir tree with my bare hand. My hand slid up its prickly trunk, because I couldn’t keep my hold on the poor little fella. My burning hand lost its grip as I continued on my down-ward journey. However, this action did slow me down some.

​Next stop was, maybe, going to be a big tree. I know I was aiming for it and quite aware that hitting the tree could possibly stop my trip but also involve broken bones or worse.

However, if I missed it, I was going to be skidding on down the mountain until I crashed into the forest many feet below.


​I’m not sure whether my mental book arranging, my quickly tossed out prayer or coincidence helped, but just before I hit the tree I ran into soft fluffy snow and my ride was over.
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TOREY INTELLIGENTLY DECIDES NOT TO CLIMB ANY FURTHER
PictureSTAYING CLOSE TO A TREE
I then checked my bleeding hands and wiggled my slightly dislocated middle finger while wondering how long the tingling and burning of the nerves in my hands would last. Would I have been able to slow myself down by grabbing the little tree if I had been wearing my big mitts?
Anyway, I noticed that, otherwise, I was still in pretty good shape.

​I felt sorry for Vincent who was still hanging onto the tree. My ride had been sudden and scary, but it was over. I     could now relax and think about my next blog.


Luckily, Vincent was better at it than me and was able to avoid a fun ride down the mountain. 

The end of the hike had a happy ending. We all ended up in Jalal’s kitchen where we were given a great meal. Some of the best chicken I’ve ever tasted.

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THE KITCHEN
The slide down the mountain-side would probably have been my next blog, but I barely had time to think about it when on Thursday it began to rain. It rained and rained for three days and three nights. Buster was all for going out and bringing in two of every creature that lived near-by.
Picture
A WEE EDDY OF FLOOD WATER
On Friday morning we went for a drive. The river was roaring by and we wanted to get away. We didn’t want to have to worry and watch the rising water. We drove around for about an hour and a half. Drove through some big puddles, crossed some partially washed out dirt roads, stopped for an Iced Cap, the lawyers be damned, and then we headed home.
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RIVER GETTING ANGRY
When we pulled into our laneway and turned the corner we saw that our lane was being torn apart by the rising water. The water was bubbling and ripping away at the lane, specially where it flowed into our pond. I gritted my teeth, drove through the rising water and saw that there was already a foot of water on our lawn. We jumped into the water, Buster in my arms, rushed to the trailer, grabbed some stuff and quickly got back into the truck before we’d have to swim.
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FLOODED LANEWAY
I learned, once again, that the river and water in general is unpredictable. Because, even though the river did flood its banks, it wasn’t the river that caused damage to our laneway. It was run-off from the mountains.

I think the river also took a hard right before it passed our trailer. This may be due to the beaver dam. 
​
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WATER MOVES IN
To end this story, we stayed at a friend’s house for one night and as I sat in a chair at our friend’s house, I wondered what my next blog was going to be about now that I had another adventure to think about. 

​And a day later I decided that I wasn’t going write a blog about how our washing machine wasn’t co-operating. ‘F’ it.
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NEW PARKING SPOT GIFT FROM THE MIDDLE RIVER
​Oh yes, and I think we have a squirrel or some animal larger than a mouse inside. Something was squeaking and gnawing behind my head when I was sitting in my chair and twice there has been an awful racket somewhere inside our trailer. 

“F” it!

​Yesterday, I had to shout at a squirrel who was trying to gnaw his way into our deck’s inner sanctum.

“F” it.
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BROOK ON TOREY'S PROPRTY
Today, although I said “F” it to writing about the squirrel, I will mention that I had to cover a hole in the dryer vent, screw a board over a hole near the water heater and put chicken wire over the outside port to the dryer.
"F" it all!
Picture
LOOKING AT THE BROOK
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