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It's Pouring Down Blog Material

28/11/2021

Busy Lewis Mountain Brook

When I finish a blog, I often ask myself, “What’s my next blog going to be about? What slings, arrows and roses does life have planned for me?”

I usually don’t have to wait too long. Sometimes I get more than I wanted.

Equipment Manager

So there I am, it’s ten am on a foggy, rainy, night and I’m driving down Kelly’s Mountain.

I approach St. Anne’s Look-off and there he is. About fifteen feet from my truck. A buck. An eight pointer. I slam on my brakes and sadly, hit him.

I feel sorry for the buck, my truck and me. Only a year and a half ago, I was in a similar situation feeling sorry for a doe, my truck and me.

Hanging In

I phone 911 and a nice lady asks me if I’m hurt.

“No,” I say.

“Is the truck drivable?”

I say that I think it is.

“Is the truck leaking radiator fluid?”

Tree and a Mountain

I can’t tell her if the radiator is leaking because it is pounding rain. Liquid everywhere.

She phones the police for me while I attempt to get home before 11pm. I told Sue I would be no later than 11pm.

View From New Kitchen Window

Installing Kitchen Window

The truck seems okay. It gets me home. However, later on I find out that my lights are cock-eyed. One points up and one points down. I’m good at averaging things out.

When I get home I talk to a constable. He tells me that he will phone to give me my accident report number on Sunday. I will give it to my insurance agent on Monday.

Lane Through Woods

On Sunday morning, I’m sitting in my truck. I’m attempting to change my speedometer from miles to kilometres. My analog speedometer is in kilometres, my digital is in miles.

While I frig around with the modes, Sue and Dominic jump into the truck. Sue’s carrying her purse and Dominic’s tail is furiously rotating. It looks like they think we’re going for a drive.

Woodland Magic

Oh what the heck. I figure I can keep an eye on the dash and see if any warning lights act suspicious.

Sue asks, before we leave, if she should return to the trailer and change her foot-wear.

Morning Frost

"We’re only driving, so no need to remove your beach-wear runners,” I say.

The truck runs like a top. I’d roped up the front grill so the truck didn’t look crooked.

I decide to check out my two deer-kill sites.

We whip down the highway towards kilometre marker 99. That’s where I hit the doe.

Three Cows and a Manure Pile

We pass this marker and head towards the next incident report. I look at my temperature gauge and it is rising towards the red. So is my blood pressure.

We turn around and head back home. Unfortunately, a little too late.

The gauge enters the far edge of the red-zone and my truck beeps out a warning. “Engine over-heating! Engine over-heating! Dive! Dive!”

Lunch On Lewis Mountain

I pull over and park along the Trans Canada. I plan for us to all go for a walk up a scruffy trail while the engine cools.

Oh dear. Sue is wearing Speedo Beach Shoes.

Dominic and I leave her in the truck and head up the trail.

Sue, Dominic, Me and My Hat

Suddenly, Dominic’s third retractable leash snaps. He has been doing some undercover chewing. It’s free-willy time as transports and cars whiz by.

One of My Favourite Trails

I grab him, with memories of a few weeks ago, dancing in my head. That was when we were leaving our little beach which is close to the Cabot Trail. A few days before he had led us, unleashed, home and I was proud of him. This day he probably would’ve led us home also, but a squirrel popped up and the next thing we knew there was Dominic running, full speed, along the side of the highway while fully loaded logging trucks and other vehicles roared by.

An Autumn Field

Anyway, we go back to the truck and then do our drive and stop dance. Drive and stop. Drive and stop.

I figure we will never get home, so I stop and phone a friend.

He comes and puts fluid in the radiator and it gets us to his house. It was very kind of him.

Walking Along the Busy Highway

The next day they towed the truck to Port Hastings.

We now have a vehicle with all-weather tires and we live in a snow-belt.

Little Bells With the Leaves

The back of the rental vehicle is loaded down with plastic to protect the back seat from Dominic’s occasional upchucks and his muddy feet. It is also filled with towels.

Dominic Looking At the Peaceful River

AND THEN WE HAD A FLOOD!

Tool Shed After Flood

Bridge After Flood

Our trailer survived. Many people think it was a miracle.

The concrete Middle River Bridge didn’t. It's close to our trailer.

Don't Tick Off Our Cute Little River

Downed Oil Tank

I’m going to stop worrying about what’s going to be in my next blog. The deer one wasn’t in my plans, nor was the flood.

Actually, I was going to write something about how proficient the beavers have been at building a massive dam across the river. However, as you may have guessed, the river ate the beaver dam and the human-bridge.

Dominic Sniffs Out the Woodshed

River When It's In a Good Mood

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Helmet Tapper

6/11/2021

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Forest Creature

Occasionally, some people tick me off. So, it’s helpful for me to read a poem like the one below Dominic's photo who seldom ticks me off.

DOMINIC BY THE RIVER

“If I knew you and you knew me,
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine
The meaning of your heart and mine,
I’m sure that we would differ less
And clasp our hands in friendliness;
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree
If I knew you and you knew me.”
Nixon Waterman, To Know All Is To Forgive All

Warren Lake

Warren Lake Beach Bird

I do, however, think that some folks are too comfortable in their personal stories. It comes out in their tone or the way they attempt to dismantle other peoples’ stories with a few frivolous comments. Simplistic sum-it-all-up words which can diminish the emotional depths that the other person is trying to communicate. These pat-pat-good-doggy people are too cozy and confident, as far as I’m concerned. Their comments are mushy tidbits disguised as intrinsic truths and they bring many heaven-bound birds crashing back to earth.

Our Hosta In Fall

Where I come from, these folks are F’n irritating.

That’s why I like the above poem. It gives me some perspective and keeps me from being too critical.

Now, I have plenty of stories to back up my perspective and I’m going to tell you one.

On Broad Cove Mountain

Once upon a time, on a gorgeous Saturday morning, I went cycling. The sun was beaming down on the trail and I felt blessed and was in a F’n good mood.

This was in Ontario where helmets aren’t required by law.

Now for a quick cycling history.

I Love The Forest

I’ve been cycling since I was a kid. My first bike was a brown five dollar girl’s bicycle.

I learned to bike from an older neighbour fella. He put me on his bike and pushed me. I couldn’t crash right away because I was going too fast. So I cruised down the street by the skin of my teeth, jumped a stop sign and then roared down a busier street. I kept going until I crashed into a hedge which was owned by a lady, who later called my family country hicks. Her hedge wasn’t so friendly either.

I Love The Forest's Floor

I once pulled a friend and his bicycle for over ten k’s. He hung onto a rope while I pulled. He’d lost his chain.

Another time I held onto his bike while I rode my bike, and guided him down a steep hill. He had no brakes and didn’t want to walk.

A Forest Floor Sculpture

I almost failed a high school math exam because I didn’t want to take the time to finish it. I wanted to go cycling.

Anyway, back to the story. There I was, peddling and feeling the burn of joyful freedom. I called this bike Pixie Lee. My present bike is called Buddy Lee. My cat Spooky named my first bike. I named my present bike.

View From Part Way Down Smokey Mountain

Up ahead I noticed cyclists approaching on their platinum cycling chariots. They were outfitted to the hilt with expensive equipment. Shiny helmets with dental mirrors stuck to their sides, leather gloves with holes from which their fingers poked out, tight revealing bicycle pants and tops sporting commercial logos, bike bells, multi-lights, and bright fluorescent eye catchers.

One Of My Thinking Spots Along Middle River

I’ve noticed that many of these super decked out cyclists ride in flocks.

I gave the leader of this flock a hearty and well-meaning salutation.

Vincent Finds A Treasure On Broad Cove Mountain Trail

Sue and Dominic

He said not a word. He just bicycled by with his nose up his gazebo while he tapped his helmet with his index finger. He felt entitled to be rude and superior by offering me a life’s lesson. “Wear a helmet.”

Torey Picking Raspberries By Little River

No good morning, just a super obnoxious superiority which drives folks like me into fits of speechless and angry wonder. Pointing his pointy finger at his expensive helmet was all he needed to say to a fella such as me who was hardly bedecked at all. His diminishing approach totally smoking out the idea that maybe wearing a helmet was, conceivably, possibly and might be a good idea which I might someday or night, but maybe never do some research on. He might’ve been onto something. Perhaps, could be, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of thinking he’d convinced me of anything other than he was a snotty snob.

It took me about fifteen minutes to get below the boiling point.

I said to myself, “Who the “F’ does he think he is?

Maybe a brain surgeon. I don’t know. If so, then he was an obnoxious, insufferable brain surgeon.

Later on, I thought I’d tell this story to two of my buddies who were raised in the same area as myself. They listened and then they shouted out some good old fashioned F’n curse words, using the F’n F word as a noun, verb, adjective and adverb. They were mighty fine.

And why not? He removed the pure joy of my bike ride even though I’d probably been cycling before he was even a glint in his parents’ bedroom’s eyes.

Translucent Mushroom

I remember another day when I was cycling. The trail was fairly busy and I passed lots of well-bedecked exercisers, who were checking their watches, their heart rates, their moods, their blood pressures and were, for the most part, enjoying the day. Most of them were friendly.

I approached a woman who stood by the trail-head. And oh my god, I nearly had a conniption. She was just hanging out. Slouching even, and was smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. She probably had fatty fast food containers and napkins in her vehicle. I almost fell off my bike.

Our Road in October

I didn’t however, I just cycled by and gave her a Facebook Thumbs up sign with my non-virtual thumb.

Beautiful Little River

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Only In My Dreams

5/10/2021

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Waves At Little River Beach

I’d like to tell you a Dominic story before I go into my blog rant.

Sue &.Dominic

Sue Reading the Paper With Dominic

This story occurred at the Dancing Goat. It’s a wonderful place to buy food and beverages. While Sue and Dominic waited outside, I went inside and bought some treats. I then carried the goodies to the picnic table where Sue and Dominic were waiting.

An Interesting Rock

There were other people at another picnic table about forty feet away. They enjoyed watching us trying to keep our darling dog off the table top while we also were trying to untangle his leash.

Dominic Playing Fetch

Finally he settled down under the picnic table and was nice and quiet so that we could eat and drink and make merry.

Suddenly we heard a voice. “Excuse me. Your cute dog is over here.”
Well that was gobsmacking because Sue had the red leash in her hand.

However when she pulled it up from under the table, we found that there was no Dominic attached to it. Only a broken piece of string without a hook. The hook was over at the other people’s picnic table along with Dominic. He was having a nice visit.

There are times when I hear or watch the news, when I think of lining my television, my computer, my telephone and my cell phone up against the wall and blasting them with four rounds of number five shot.

Some of the politicians make me gag. Their words make me feel as if I’ve binge watched two hundred hours of a show called “Un-truth And No Consequences”.

“ It is said that, in the very early days, lying was a capital offence among us. Believing that the deliberate liar is capable of committing any crime behind the screen of cowardly untruth and double-dealing, the destroyer of mutual confidence was summarily put to death, that the evil might go no further.”
Charles A. Eastman (Ohiyesa), The Soul of the Indian

Portrait of a Liar

There is one sentiment that I hear over and over again. It’s, “I’m so glad that I live in Cape Breton.”

I think that our moving to Cape Breton was one of the best moves we’ve ever made.

However, like all things in life it comes with some negatives. One of them is that we had to disconnect the geographical ties that help hold family and friends together.

As I said to one friend in an email, sometimes I think I learn more about what’s going on in some peoples’ lives by listening to my dreams.

Where Clouds and Water Meet

I remember dreaming that my mother was sick. In the dream it was more like she was sick, but she really wasn’t sick. At that time my mother lived in a seniors home.

Little River Beach

When I walked in I saw that they had put my mother on the stretcher. She was sitting up on the stretcher as they carried her out.

In the hospital a nurse asked me if she was ambulatory. I said I thought she was. They wanted her to go to the washroom and give them a urine sample.

I left to find a phone in the main entrance. I phoned my sister and gave her the news.

When I returned to my mother’s floor I heard a nurse shouting, “We have a runner. We have a runner” Guess who that was?

Sun Hat

Anyway, they released my mother because there wasn’t anything wrong with her.

Once I dreamt that a friend was angry at me and when I mentioned this dream to his partner, she told me that he really was angry at me and gave the reason why.

Matter Of Interpretation

Another time I had a dream that a man was protecting a grave-site. The next day we were surprised to hear of the death of a friend.

Once we stayed overnight with some folks. All night long I dreamt about cats and how sad they were. There were two cats in the place. I found out that the one cat was very sick and that there was a suicide connected to this place.

Out House On Beach

The point is, because of distance and because there have been quite a few instances when my dreams have been rather prescient I occasionally use my dreams as a way of reaching out to people. I will gamble that the dream was onto something.

View From Blueberry Mountain

Sometimes it’s better if I just said to myself, “mum’s the word.”

However, if I use an ocean metaphor, I might say that many of our dreams come from the depths of this ocean metaphor while our logic huddles on top of the wee tip of a cork metaphor which is floating on my ocean metaphor. And what’s a metaphor for if it isn’t for being a figure of speech.

Night-Fall at Lake O'Law

However, sometimes the worry that I’m losing touch with some folks can make me rash in my communications. For example, they say they will talk to me later and then they don’t get back to me. I then start to feel that the elastic interpersonal friendship band is stretching towards its limit. This emotion gives me a hankering to stir things up. Spice up the discourse and if I’ve had a few brewskis then I sometimes have the courage to do just that.

A Good Dream or a Bad Dream?

I'm Betting. This Will Be A Good Dream

Nevertheless, I’d like to apologize to those friends to whom I’ve miscommunicated. Where I should have gotten at least a two minute penalty for boarding or boring. I’m hoping that those folks will have the grace, or even the Bob, the Mabel, the George or any name that may fit, to forgive me.

I guess you could say that my communication became: “A kind of excellent dumb discourse.”
William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Where I Tuck My Dreams Away

And That's That Folks

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DOMINIC

11/9/2021

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Dominic

We got another dog.

That’s why there are chewed up gloves, tissue paper, socks, pieces of firewood and other sundry items strewn around our trailer. I have donated many articles for Saint Dominic’s edification. We definitely know we have a dog.

They called him Dom at the SPCA. We call him Dominic. He’s an Italian Catholic Saint Dog.

Hay Field Monster

The Whitney Peer’s SPCA brought Dominic outside to meet us. We then all sat on the edge of a big truck tire and socialized. Dominic huddled down inside the tire and I think this intimate little greeting place was one of the reasons we got along with Dominic.

Dominic and Sue

Later on, after we left the SPCA and they went about checking our references, we went to Walmart in North Sydney. It was while Sue was walking down the aisle in front of me that I noticed the black marks on the back of her white pants. We then switched positions and she noticed the black marks on the back of my pants. We’d transferred some of the tire from the SPCA to our clothes. Fun was had by all.

Baddeck River Resident

A few days later we picked up Dominic and brought him home. We got along splendidly until I let out two humongous sneezes and it was bye, bye Dominic.

And wow! Dominic can move! Why our next door neighbour said after he ran past her house that he was running so fast that she thought he was a black poodle. He’s actually a terrier cross and may have some border collie in him with a pinch of retriever.

A Slippery Green Mini Baddeck Water Fall

I panicked after he ran away and the first morning after he took off, I went out to look for him. I thought I heard him barking somewhere in the forest. I immediately began tramping over or through ferns and brooks and prickles and downed trees and only stopped when I realized I was going to get lost and the barking wasn’t sounding any closer. I followed the sun back to the road.

Lunch By Baddeck River

Later on, I discovered that it wasn’t Dominic barking, but a dog who every morning likes to take a wee walk to the road-side and bark a ‘good day’ to every passing vehicle. A neighbour told me that he thinks this dog’s life span will be short.

I put the word out on the social media and asked everyone I met to please keep an eye out for a little black dog. I asked a road construction flag woman to also keep an eye out for the dog and gave her my phone number. That night she kindly phoned me and asked if we’d found him.

Dominic and Me

Two days later I got a phone call around eight am and was told that a neighbour had found Dominic. The dog had been sleeping on top of the man’s hen house. Apparently the neighbour went outside while it was still dark and saw two brown eyes staring at him. They were Saint Dominic’s eyes.

Cedar Wax Wing Near Cheticamp

Dominic goes to bed with us at night and doesn’t get up until we do. He doesn’t bark much at night and I think that’s because he was found wandering around the moors near Reserve Mines and had to be quiet at night. If he barked a big bad coyote might get him or something just as bad.

Early Morning

In the morning, when we get up, Dominic will jump off the bed, select an item of clothes from Sue’s clothing pile and take off for the living room. This morning he selected her white long-johns. We are modifying this behaviour.

When you try to take something, like a good sock, away from him he doesn’t discriminate between the cloth and your hand. We are modifying this behaviour as we re-stock our first aid kit.

He is a great jumper and likes to jump up and kiss or occasionally nip at your face. We are modifying.

Dominic Thinks About the Big Why

We were told he doesn’t bark much, but Dominic is a ferocious watch dog and if somebody comes near our place or he thinks somebody is near our place he goes into full alarm barking alert. I tried letting him out to see how he would deal with our friend who dropped around. I based my decision on the theory that he doesn’t bite and he didn’t but boy was he into the watch dog thing. We had to shout at him to calm down and then he did. He actually can be quite obedient. We are doing some modifying.

Enjoying Being On the Baddeck River

A friend visited us just after we got the dog and she used her big purse as a barrier between herself and Dominic who she feared would attack her. She kept her purse between her person and the dog even after Dominic had been told that she was a friend and with him now calmly sitting next to her chair.

Wee Birthday Celebration At Big Spruce

Dominic thinks that the side door of our trailer which leads to our wee side porch, is a next door neighbour’s townhouse’s door. So, when either one of us walks out that door he raises hell. He then runs inside to see if that door is actually part of our townhouse and then he checks out our townhouse to make sure that the real Sue or the real Larry is inside and not the next door neighbour who he’d seen step outside.

Dominic Plays Rough With Hannah

Dominic, who probably had to grab a quick coffee and a sandwich while on his continuous running regime, had a tendency, when he first arrived, to grab a sandwich or some other treat off our plates while we were eating. We are modifying this behaviour. He also likes to grab the occasional mud and stone sandwich.

A Little Piece Of Baddeck River

We have finally, so far, by having him sit on Sue’s lap in the truck, by driving not too far at first, giving him a treat after the drive and not allowing him in the back seat got him to not upchuck in the truck. He had vomited four times on four trips and we had to give him Gravol before he went in the truck with us. We’re hoping it was just nerves. We will continue to modify his vomiting behaviour.

River Walking Along and In Baddeck River

Ironically, although he ran like crazy when I sneezed and still gets crazy when we sneeze and now that I’ve almost blown a few hernias trying not to sneeze and when I do sneeze, he will run up to me and plead with his big brown eyes to please not sneeze. I’m trying to modify my sneezing behaviour.

The ironical part, as I’ve mentioned, is that he sticks to me like glue and sometimes we don’t tie him out. He just wants in, if I’m in and wants out, if I’m out.

Dominic and Sue are now having many pleasurable walks together as we begin to modify his behaviour. He used to not want to walk with Sue because he didn’t want to leave me.

One day I mailed a letter just before Sue took Dominic out. When I got to the end of our lane I hid in the woods. I stood behind a big birch tree and peeked at the road. I saw Sue and Dominic walk by. Dominic thought I was ahead of them and when they were gone I walked back to the trailer. Dominic is not part blood hound.

We still had modifying to do and so some times when I knew that Sue was going to try and take Dominic for a walk I'd go into the bathroom, shut the door and turn on the clothes dryer. I then did my ostrich act. I sat on the pot while the dryer cut out the sounds of Sue cajoling Dominic into leaving me and going with her for a walk. After a little while of sitting on the pot and listening to the dryer, I then very carefully opened the bathroom door. If no black dog zipped into the bathroom I felt that things were probably going okay. I’d then peek out the neighbour’s townhouse door window and if Sue and Dominic were out of sight I could relax.

What we do for Dominic!

Tenacity

Dominic doesn’t chase cars on the highway, but if they pass us on our dirt road he will wait until they pass and then make a beeline for them. I think he only chases things that he figures he can catch. We are doing some modifying here.

As you can tell, we are in the modifying business. However he is one sweet little dog and when I sit outside he immediately jumps up on the chair beside me and my buddy and I enjoy the time together. He’ll sometimes lean against me, turn his head, look up at me and give me a kiss.

Torey Walking Along Baddeck River

So, we put up with some of his rough edges as he begins to learn about our wacky life and as we try to figure out where he came from. We continuously ask the questions, ‘What is this little black dog all about? And how much of the modifying is being done by this little black dog?’

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Buster Has Left Us

22/7/2021

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Broken Up

I have sad news to report. Buster, one of my star blog subjects and our pet, has passed away. He had bone cancer. We had no idea his occasional limp was that dire.

A fella told me there is this Danish saying that says, if you bring a dog into your life, you bring sorrow into your life. This is not a direct quote.

I say, our pets don’t live long enough. An increased life span should be mandatory.

I think Buster might have been an humanitarian and it will be difficult to replace Buster.

You know, I’m often tempted to write another blog about the great communication systems we all suffer through.

For example, I’ve been trying to get hold of people to talk to about getting a dog.

“You have reached, blah, blah, blah. If you want to reach blah, press one, press two if you want to reach blah, blah, press three if you want to reach, blah, blah blah.”

I press the required number.

Upside Down World

“We are unable to come to the phone right now, but if you would like to leave a message, blah, blah, blah.”

So I think that logic, practicality and the ones and zeros in everyone’s magical rectangles and squares can only lead a person so far. There are so many things in this universe that are out there and if you look and listen they often tell you a different story from the practical ones.

“We are too rational……All that is best is unconscious or superconscious.”
Thomas Merton

Uisage Ban Falls

A few days before Buster died, I went for a bike ride with a couple of friends. We biked from Judique to outside Port Hastings.

End Of Trail Near Port Hastings

Most of us know how intelligent crows can be. You see them on the road and just before they’re about to get flattened by a vehicle they casually step over the white line and into safety. Do they know the rules of the road?

A fella told me that crows will jump up and down on the ground so that the dew worms think it’s raining out. The poor worms will slither out of their holes to do what worms do when they slither out of their holes. Zap!

Vincent & Shane Taking A Bike Hike Break

Bikes Taking A Bike Hike Break

I once watched a crow and a seagull trying to get at a dead pizza or some other bit of food which was lying on the road. It was rush hour and when a vehicle was approaching, the crow would make a pretend rush for the food. The seagull would then greedily scamper into the traffic so he could get to the food first. The conniving crow would step back and watch to see if he could get that seagull squashed. If crows only had arms.

Hiking To Uisage Ban Falls

However, on the way to Judique I saw three or four dead crows along the side of the road. In Mabou one crow was writhing around on the road just before it was run over by another vehicle.
So what was happening here?

Torey Resting On Trail To Uisage Ban Falls

The logical thought is that maybe they had been poisoned in that large area or it was mass suicide. Who knows? However, there are also ways of making connections in this world which don’t ride on a logical horse. At least not in my mind.

A Pool Near Falls

When I returned home I told Sue about the dead crows. We wondered if the universe had tossed out a clue. Good times might not be headed our way.

A Lonely Walk

I don’t know, but nor does anybody else and there’s lots of bull doo doo on those magical social media rectangles and squares which not only give bags of quickly fading nonsense, but also lead some enlightened people down a literal man-hole or over a cliff.

Life Can Be Gorgeous

And a few days ago, Sue and I took a lonely walk down our road without Buster. On the way an event occurred which I have never experienced before and I have hiked plenty of trails.

It was almost like the title of the book “I Heard an Owl Call My Name.”

We heard an owl hooting. We looked around for it and finally saw it. We got closer and it didn’t fly away. At least not until we had a good look at it.

It then flew to another branch of a tree nearer us where it hooted from time to time. It then kept just ahead of us as we approached our destination. Finally the owl swung off and flew towards the highlands.

What was that all about?

A Canadian book titled "I Heard An Owl Call My Name' made us think that maybe, because this was so unusual and that it happened at this particular time when we were both grieving, might mean that We Heard Buster Call Our Name.

Who knows eh?

We know that we really miss Buster.

Sue Waters The Plants

Isn't that Life? Sue waters the plants.

The squirrel eats the plants.

Sue and Buster At Beach

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Waldo Words, Mountain Tops and Ocean Clouds

24/6/2021

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CLOUDS FORMING ON OCEAN

I like to sit in my yellow chair and look out the window. Sue says the chair is multi-coloured. I say it’s yellow.

Anyway, I often sit in this yellow, multi-coloured chair and watch the maple leaves horsing around in the wind. I also listen to the river gurgling and the birds whistling songs that they’ve heard me scratch on my guitar.

BUSTER'S BUDDY

What often pesters my mind is the worry bug. It uses buzzy words which warns me that I’d better watch the nice view now before some aggressive person or company get their money hungry hands on it.

That’s when I pick up my fat, dark blue book and look for a Waldo word.

VIEW OF OCEAN NEAR JUDIQUE

By the way, Sue agrees that the Oxford Canadian Dictionary is dark blue.

One particular day Waldo was standing next to the word, ‘GREEDY’.

Greedy: “Wanting wealth to excess. Having or showing an excessive appetite for food or drink. Needing intensely.”

TREE ROOTS ON FRANEY MTN TRAIL

I believe this word is the crux of the reason for so much of our world’s degradation.

Truth hides in multi-coloured places.

BOULDER ON TOP OF FRANEY MTN

A few weeks ago we climbed Franey Mountain. I have four memories of this hike. One is how windy it was at the top.

Oh, wait, I have another memory that’s a sticker. That would make it number five.

It’s the memory of my hat blowing off my head and Judy, one of the hikers, having to make a big save so that my favourite hat wouldn’t blow over the edge. She should play for the Toronto Maple Leafs.

I"M SITTING IN CHAIR ON TOP OF FRANEY

Actually another memory just came knocking. That’s number six. I remember the sign on top of the mountain that was supposed to warn people not to get too close to the edge. I think they thought they’d posted a sign of a man falling off the cliff, but to me it looked like a warning for a man not to go scuba diving in mid-air.

JUDY AFTER RESCUING MY HAT

The other three memories were: how hot it was, how breathless I would become from time to time and finally, how many mosquitos there were on the way up and on the way down. A billion of them were waiting for us in my truck.

However, fun was had by all

VINCENT HITCH HIKING ON FRANEY MTN

On Sunday, three of us hiked the Cape Smokey Trail. The weather called for rain in the afternoon and maybe a thunder storm.

ON FRANEY

The weather in our real world and not the virtual world was sunny and warm with a little bit of a breeze. How different the world outside my window is from the world that is shown on the virtual screens.

KING OF FRANEY MOUNTAIN

ON FRANEY MOUNTAIN

My big dark blue dictionary has just pointed out another Waldo word, “REALITY”

REALITY: What exists or is real.

This trail didn’t seem to be well-maintained. Maybe the Corona Virus had something to do with it.

HIKING THE CAPE SMOKEY TRAIL

At one point the narrow path was bordered on one side by what we like to call in the vernacular, ‘F all’. It was just a drop-off into a forest of spruce and pine. Luckily, it was only a small section of the trail, but one could say that if you weren’t paying attention or were looking into your virtual machine to see where you were while you were really there, you could actually find yourself scuba diving off the trail.

TAKING A BREAK ON CAPE SMOKEY TRAIL

I go back to my dark blue non-virtual dictionary where I find the Waldo word, ‘PAIN’:

PAIN: The condition of hurting.

The little wooden bridges that crossed the wee brooks were in poor shape. At one point I nonchalantly leaned against one bridge’s railing and was lucky not to fall off. The railing began to give away and I almost tumbled into a world of ‘PAIN’.

One section of the trail was obviously a moose lavatory. It brought back some memories. Years ago I had a great idea. I haven’t had any since. This idea was great and I think Waldo would agree. The idea was, why not collect moose turds and sell them as Cape Breton golf balls.

GREAT: Of a size, amount, extent, or intensity considerably above the normal or average.

PUSHING THROUGH WINDFALLS

Another interesting thing about the trail was all the ant hills. Gigantic ant hills that dotted the side of the trail. One ant hill had a huge mound made out of thousands of spruce needles. I think that this might be the ants’ White House or Parliament Buildings.

I also saw Cinnamon Ferns, Bunch Berries, Twin Flower plants, Moccasin plants, Hawk Weed and lots more.

Now, you might ask, have I become a plant expert?

No. Judy and Torey are plant experts. So I got a guided plant tour while I hiked.

CLOUDS FORMING ON OCEAN

Unfortunately, after passing through a thick section of wind-fallen trees, Torey tripped and hit her knee on a sharp rock. So, rather than carrying on with the climb, we stopped.

Luckily, Judy had first-aid material in her knapsack. I also contributed to Torey’s medical aid. I gave her an ice-pack which I’d carried in my public school grades one to five kid’s lunch bag.

We then made our way down towards a look-off, where we ate lunch.

It was while we were eating our lunch and swatting at bugs that we saw a strange phenomenon. A way out on the ocean was a white island. This island seemed to be moving and rising and falling.

VINCENT AND TOREY ON FRANEY

As these white islands moved closer we realized that we were seeing clouds forming on the surface of the ocean. We’ve seen something like this but not this spectacular.

And so, while driving down the steep and sharp-cornered Smokey Mountain road, I took photos after Judy grabbed my steering wheel and steered the truck and Torey prayed to Waldo for a Waldo word.

SCARED: Frightened, terrified.

Hopefully Torey’s knee will get better really, really quickly.

STEERING, PHOTOGRAPHING AND PRAYING TO WALDO

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A Rally To Beat All Rallies

18/5/2021

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A Log Otter Floating On Her Back

Falls On Aspy Trail

“In our culture at large-including science-we see ourselves as the best and only possible way of being intelligent.”
Francisco J. Varela, Biologist

Buster has a few bones to pick with the attitude expressed in the above quote.

And Lordy, Lordy! I’ve heard that there’s going to be an anti-mask rally in Halifax. What!? An anti-mask rally!?

Rock That Didn't Wear A Mask

Why don’t we have an anti-not-being-able-to-hunt-in-the-city rally

What’s with them? It’s not just about the mask wearer, is it? Isn’t it about the people who can catch your god-awful virus if you’re carrying it around in your totally-unrestrained-right-to-do-whatever-you-feel-is-good-for- yourself body?

Howling in the Forest

Maybe anti-mask people should move to some uninhabitable part of our world or hitch-hike to Mars if they can find a ride.

Enjoying a Wee Beach Fire

Sue and Buster and I are about to embark on a journey. We’re going to jump into the truck and drive to a side road. Then, while Sue and Buster have a merry ramble down the semi-paved road, I will be in a ditch picking up a number of dead bottles and cans. Tossed there by people who feel they have a right to litter the world with their disposable cans and bottles. They probably attend anti-not-being-able-to-litter-the-world rallies.

Red Island Beach

Speaking of anti-everything rallies, last week a fella drove up in an ATV. We talked for a few minutes and then he asked us a question. He didn’t ask Buster as, well, the topic wasn’t something that would apply to Buster. But if it did I think I know what side of the coin he would be on.

Rascal Who Jumped Out of my Tool Bag and Surprised Me

He asked us if we were rubber booters. We didn’t know what he meant. So he explained. They are tree huggers.

Hiding From Covid

He asked us if we were against clear cutting. He's for it.

I would say this fella would attend anti-environmentally-responsible-tree-cutting rallies.

I answered his question. I said I could see some advantages to clear-cutting. It might be commercially more viable. That would be related to King Money. I didn’t think it was good for all the plants and animals that it was driving away or destroying. I’m sure he left us thinking that we were rubber booters. We actually have two pair of rubber boots and Sue wears hers all the time.

Sunset Over Highlands

Now Buster has hinted that if he wants to act like a cat, then why can’t he?

He would probably attend an anti-being-only-called-a-dog rally.

Rambling Down the Road

There was an organization called The Society Against the Indecent Nakedness of Animals. They’d attend an against-bare-naked-animals rally.

I could go on.

Walking To Red Island Beach

“Does a frog see-is it aware of visual images, does it know that it is responding? There is nothing whatever that I can do as a scientist to answer that question. That is the problem of consciousness. It is altogether impervious to scientific approach.”

 George Wald, Noble Prize Winning Biologist

A Forest Icon

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ONLY HUMAN PLENTY OF TIMES

26/4/2021

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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

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

MY THINKING SPOT

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.

SECTION OF GRAND FALAISE

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.

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.

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.

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.

PERFECT SPOT TO HANG OUT AFTER GETTING VACCINATION

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TOO MUCH BLOG MATERIAL

10/4/2021

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EARLY 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

TOREY INTELLIGENTLY DECIDES NOT TO CLIMB ANY FURTHER

STAYING 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

LOOKING AT THE BROOK

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GOD IS A VERB

27/3/2021

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CHETICAMP RIVER

“Don’t oppose forces; use them.
God is a verb,
Not a noun.”
Richard Buckminister Fuller, No More Secondhand God

LEAVING SALMON POOL"S CABIN AFTER A GOOD LUNCH

Some people believe that if they make good choices they will be blessed. A fatter bank account, better health, bigger house, thicker steaks and a whole whack of other choice bits and pieces of the good life. I think it’s based on the Old Testament ten-percent-tithing rule.

In my last blog I wrote that I have two lawyers in my noggin. One lawyer tries to prevent me from making bad addiction choices and the other lawyer tries to convince me to make poor addiction choices.

BLIZZARD CURTAIN OFF RED ISLAND BEACH

Let me recap. I made an Iced Cap addiction resolution. I would only buy one Iced Cap on Friday or when Sue, Buster and I went to Sydney or North Sydney. They were my addiction parameters.

But you see, last Wednesday, after skating (please see my last blog) I passed the Tim Hortons and didn’t buy an Iced Cap. I was, I must say, a little proud of myself.

However, like I said, some believe if you make good addiction choices, that the universe will repay you with opportunities you didn’t know existed.

SUE AND BUSTER AT North Sydney MALL

On Saturday, we went to the dump. Buster and Sue love going to the dump. Buster because the woman in the little house with the big scales always hands him a biscuit through the wee window. Sue because she loves seeing Buster tying his tail up in knots when he gets the biscuit he so dearly deserves.

After we’d dumped the dump material I decided we needed things in North Sydney. We drove to North Sydney and then, you guessed it, on the way home we stopped and bought two Iced Caps. No argument from any of my lawyers. It was in the contract.

A VISIT TO THE DUMP

GETTING OUR ICED CAPS

So, I’d managed to legally set up a two-Iced-Cap-in-two days situation.

Now I was faced with the thought that there would be no more Iced Caps until next Friday.

Luckily, on Saturday night I was showering and suddenly the water quit. There I was, soaking wet. My hair chock full of conditioner.

JALAL MAKES A DELICIOUS SOUP

The first thing I did was dunk my head into an emergency bucket of cold water that we use for power outages. We have quite a few power outages.

The second thing I did was slip and slide my way through deep snow to scoop up a pail of river water. It would be our emergency water source.
The next thing I did was get an old fuse box from the woodshed and replace the broken one with this old semi-broken one. Now our water ran and then stopped running and then ran again. On and off. On and off.

On Sunday I tried to get a new fuse box. No luck. So I went hiking on the Red Island trail.

TOREY WAVES GOOD-BYE AS SHE SNOWSHOES TO HER CABIN

On Monday I went to a local hardware store and no luck. Then, glory hallelujah! The Lord works in mysterious ways and there was nothing my lawyers could do about it. You see, I managed to find one in North Sydney. It was their last one.

Cape Breton HOMESTEAD

I received a revelation while I was driving to North Sydney. It’s that good things happen if you follow the rules. I’d turned down an Iced Cap on Wednesday? I’d received a moral pat on the back. And because of my good behaviour, the universe wrecked our water supply and now, here I was, heading to North Sydney on a Monday. Whistling a tune with joy in my heart.

GETTING SNOWED ON

I was able to legally drink, after paying one hundred dollars and change for the fuse box, three Iced Caps in four days. Will the bounty ever cease?

BUSTER ABOUT TO SHAVE

It’s now Thursday and Buster is running out of treats. Should I go to North Sydney today and buy him some? He looks quite desperate and Sue must need something. Maybe I should go into the washroom and pull out our water supply’s fuse box. Or maybe I could hang in until Friday.

I think I need a beer.