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I LOVE WINTER

30/12/2018

ME ON THE TRAIL

A few summers ago a friend and I were hiking on the beautiful Skyline Trail. When we arrived at the end of the trail we met some hikers from Ottawa who were enjoying the gorgeous view. They told us that they had travelled the world and this was the most beautiful place that they’d ever visited.

A HAPPY TREE

Even the snow and trees are happy to be on the Skyline Trail.

FENCE TO KEEP MOOSE OUT

There’s a fella who lives not too far from us. He likes to paint trees and leave interesting objects lying around. I like to think of them as his creations.

IS THE WORLD REALLY ROUND?

Last week I heard some very sad news. The news forced me out of my chair and into my hiking boots. I set out down our road, and on the way back saw the sun shining through the trees and illuminating the many ice crystals that covered the branches.
It made me realize that no matter how bad life can get there is still beauty to behold.

BEAUTY TO BEHOLD

Sue loves to walk on our road and share some of this beauty with Buster.

The crows enjoy each other and the beauty from on high.

CONTENT AND HAPPY CROWS

Some interesting hikers enjoy the Skyline Trail.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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I SMELL LIKE FIREWOOD

19/12/2018

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SUN STREAKS

Have you noticed, from reading my blogs, that I spend a lot of time in the woodshed? You’re right, I do, and I was sitting on a beach chair in the woodshed when I heard the squirrel.

Who?

The squirrel. She was staring at me. Friendly like and I didn’t want to become buddies with her. Because I could be her home wrecker.

And why’s that?

Because she has built a nest in the back of our stack of firewood. I’m not sure how far back, even though I’ve repeatedly warned her to build the nest behind the last row of wood. I’m presently at row five.

You see, I don’t want, one day, to remove some firewood and expose her nest.

At this point, you might ask, how many people in this world worry about getting too emotionally close to a squirrel because they risk being a squirrel home-wrecker?

It can’t be just me, but take one day last week. Please.

I went shopping. I took my grocery list. The grocery list had, in the past, been stapled to something else. In the grocery store’s meat department it got stapled to my finger when I took it out of my pocket. My finger was still bleeding as I paid the cashier. Not a good omen.

So I said, “Bite me.”

I dropped into another establishment. A woman walked in. I couldn’t put a name to her face. I finally did. I said her name and then I said the name of her husband, because I knew him and I made this connection out loud. That’s a no, no.

My comment was overheard and I was suddenly a chauvinistic pig.

Bite me!

Instead of heading home I took a much longer drive. I’d suddenly had a hankering for an Iced Cap at Tim Horton’s. However, I felt the need to buy it in a Mi’kmaq Reserve which is a twenty minute drive from the Baddeck Tim Hortons.

The Baddeck Timmy’s is inundated by construction and it’s a real hassle to find a parking space and anyway, sometimes when I feel overwhelmed by the bull crap in my culture I like to visit a reserve.

So, I drove the extra twenty minutes.

Guess what? The Tim Horton’s was closed. The sign said it was closed due to lack of water.

The sign also said that it might be open around two pm. How much around?

Bite me!

My day is moving along at a crappy pace, but I get stubborn. I’m going to get that damn unhealthy Iced Cap, no matter what. So I drive back to the Baddeck Tim Horton’s. I knew I was losing it. My sense of feeling in control was lower than my gas gauge.

I waited for the flag person to wave us forward and then waited for a second flag man to wave me into the parking lot. Where there was no room for my truck at the inn.

However, they have a drive-through, so I drove up to the little box in which a tiny person lives. The wee person asked me what I wanted. I ordered a small Iced Cap.

There were no vehicles ahead of me. This probably meant I’d get speedy service. That was a problem.

You see, I have a bum knee. Actually two. Before the skating season began I bought an expensive brace for that knee. It’s in the shape of a cloth tube. That morning, before I drove to the arena, I’d slipped the protective tube over my long underwear and fastened it over my knee. My pants were over all this protection.

I followed the directions from the little woman and drove up to the window.

Well, as the day had already gone so well, I tried to make it even better, by parking my truck too far from the take-out window.

A server poked her head out of the window and informed me that I owed her two dollars and seventy-five cents. I tried to stuff my hand into my pants pocket so I could dig out my wallet. My wallet wouldn’t move.

I dug and dug. Pulled and pulled. At one point, I turned to the server, who was trying not to look amused and I said, “Thank-you for you patience. The money will be with you as soon as I can pull the $%^&*() wallet out of my $%^&*( pocket.”

Which I finally did. I then leaned out of the truck window while she balanced out of her own Tim Horton’s window and we made the exchange.

I thanked her. She smiled, in a queer way, at the silly chauvinistic pig who then drove towards the next flag man. Who held up his hand and ordered me to stop.

I stopped. I waited while I clutched the bills and my change in one hand. My wallet rested on the passenger seat.

The construction man, who was a man, gave me the okay to drive onto the highway. I had an instantaneous panic attack, because I couldn’t remember which lane I was supposed to get into.

Bite me!

When I arrived home, I looked at the woodshed and I thought about my day and about the squirrel. And I thought that I could’t be a really mean chauvinistic pig if I worried so much about the welfare of the squirrel, who I assumed was a she, and who lived in our woodshed.

Today a friend said to me, “You smell nice.”

I immediately thought, “Is it my shampoo, my underarm deodorant, my mouth rinse, toothpaste, hand soap?”

I looked at her and waited for her to explain.

She said, “You smell like firewood.”

I immediately wondered. Is she smelling the squirrel’s shampoo, underarm deodorant, mouth rinse, toothpaste, hand soap, acorn body wash?

Only in Cape Breton.

Thus sayeth Larry

HAPPY HOLIDAY

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I LOVE WINTER

I SMELL LIKE FIREWOOD

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