Blog Posts

POINTY SIDE DOWN

14/11/2020

CHETICAMP RIVER

SICK TREES HUDDLING BY THE MOUNTAIN

In my last blog I wrote some nice things about hornets and bumble bees. Live and let live was my theme. I wrote this with the knowledge that nature has a way of testing us and not long after my supporting-hornets blog the animal kingdom sent me some messages.

For example, we were at the North Sydney Mall when what did I spy with my little eyes? The check engine light was on and so was the anti-skidding light. Plus, my cruise control stopped working and the indicator light on the stick shift for Drive was off.

CHETICAMP RIVER CREATURE

However, I had to take the truck in for its warranty servicing anyway. Plus, after two days the problem went away and hasn’t returned as of this present blog writing exercise.

In Port Hawkesbury I drove my truck into the area where you park your vehicle before it’s taken into the garage. When I jumped out of my truck, a woman who was eating her lunch inside her car shouted out the window, “There’s a little animal running around underneath your truck.” It was a mouse. Now homeless.

SALMON POOL'S TRAIL

They hooked my truck up to a computer and told me they couldn’t find any problem. They thought an animal might have chewed on a wire or two.

Now my truck is stuffed full of Bounce sheets. It smells glorious.

Is it working? Not sure.

HIKING BUDDY AND ME AT SALMON POOLS TRAIL CABIN

A few days ago I saw a squirrel run under and then jump up into the underside of my truck. Later that day I walked to my truck and a chipmunk came out from under my truck. Not the squirrel. Where was he?

APPROACH TO CABIN

And guess what I was doing on Tuesday and Friday? I was covering the bottom of some hardwood trees with wire. Why? Because the beavers have moved in. They have built a dam almost all the way across the main Middle River’s channel and have also built a smaller dam behind our woodshed. No threat yet of a flood, but the beavers are chewing down our trees.

I phoned the Ministry of Resources. The woman who answered gave me a phone number to call and told me she had a squirrel under her floor and didn’t know how to get it out. What did she do, I wonder? Did she test nature in some way?

SALMON POOL'S TRAIL

Anyway, we had the Ministry of Natural Resources fella out our way. He gave us some tips. Told me to put sheet metal, about five feet high, around the tree. I can also use chicken wire, although it’s not as good.

NATURE'S PULPIT

Of course, I heard that five feet high doesn’t do it when the snow starts to fly. Five feet high becomes no feet high around here. Another person told me they hibernate so maybe that won’t be a problem.

EGYPT FALLS

I can also hire a trapper. He charges one hundred dollars per deceased beaver.

Are you getting the point? Do you see how by giving the hornets great press I opened myself up to the universe’s testing. Because, only days after I posted the hornets’ blog I was being tempted to hire a trapper to kill the beavers?

SUN REFLECTING FROM THE BRANCHES

So, guess what I’m doing? I’m daily checking our trees for gnawing marks. Chicken wire, staple gun and snippers near-by.

And by the way, getting my staple gun to work was another possible proof of how this universe works for me.

ENJOYING EGYPT FALLS WITH A CUP OF TEA

How did I get the staple gun working? Well, I kept frigging around with it until it worked. Put the wrong staples in. Put the right staples in, but in the wrong place. Put the correct staples in, but upside down and finally put the correct staples in what I considered to be the right side up-side. Click, clicked a few times for each procedure and finally at the end of the last insertion of staples and still with no staples shooting out, I attempted a true and tried method. I tested a universal law.

ALMOST AT EGYPT FALLS

TWO HIKING BUDDIES AND ME AT EGYPT FALLS

I took the staple gun and put it on top of some pages of a manuscript that I DID NOT WANT STAPLED TOGETHER! I placed the staple gun with pointy staples facing downwards, just like before and then pressed. Sure enough the gun worked and my manuscript was severely stapled together.

It seems to be the way my life works.

MAGIC IN EVERYTHING

“For the truth is a terrible thing. You dabble your foot in it and it is nothing. But you walk a little farther and you feel it pull you like an undertow or a whirlpool. First there is a slow pull so steady and gradual you scarcely notice it, then the acceleration, then the dizzy whirl and plunge into darkness. For there is a blackness of truth, too. They say it is a terrible thing to fall into the Grace of God. I am prepared to believe that.”
Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men

NORTHERN CLOUD LIGHTS

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GOOD NEIGHBOURS

2/11/2020

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IT BETTER BE REAL

GAVE ME A START

I’ve been thinking, as I watch some of the death cult political rallies on television. Why don’t they just put a massive container of Kool-Aid on the cultish altar, give each rally participant a paper cup, and let those who are so inclined, go at it?

So, because of the crazy and cultish Alice-In-Wonderland-fake-news world we live in, I’m sticking with writing some more about my hornets or yellow jackets.

I WAS CYCLING ONE DAY.

You see, after I wrote my last blog, I noticed that the hornets seemed to be paying more attention to me. Am I paranoid? Egotistical? All of the above?

When I was in the bank retrieving some of my money from the bank machine, a hornet landed on the inside of my glasses.

“Hello, little fella. Are you here to make me eat my blog words? Trying to scare me?”

VIEW OF PORT HASTINGS FROM CYCLING ROUTE

However, he or she didn’t bite me and lately when I’ve been drinking a beer in the woodshed, two burly hornets would, almost every time, drop around and scope out my drink, or buzz my face, land on my arms, my head or, my lips of all places and would sometimes drive me to another imbibing sanctuary. Of course they would eventually track me down. Was I being tested? Am I egotistical enough to think the hornets don’t have better things to do than test my hornet theory?

ALMOST DIDN'T SEE HIM

When I was at a beautiful cove two weeks ago, where I watched a seal float by and where I climbed the rocks and jumped out of the way of waves and where I ate my lunch, a bumblebee landed on my hand. I gently put him down on the ground and I also rescued another drowsy bumblebee from off a rock. I’m assuming they are getting sleepy or whatever they get when winter is approaching, but once again my ego made me think they were paying attention to me. Now ain’t that crazy?

HIKING IN CAPE MABOU HIGHLANDS

And I’m thinking that maybe my extra gentleness with and empathy for these tiny critters are because of the horrible lack of empathy that the cult-like character is exhibiting not far from our home country. That doesn’t exclude all the other crass treatment, theories and excuses many of our own economists claim as they clear-cut and rape nature.

REALITY

One day, when I was sitting in the woodshed, smelling the firewood and listening to the squirrel setting up his or her woodpile condo, I got thinking about the hornet’s nest that had been built or placed on the side of the woodshed; see last blog for clarification.

LUNCH-MATE

You see, those hornets seldom bothered me even though they were on the other side of the woodshed, just around the corner. Why were they so timid or considerate? Why did these hornets leave me alone, no matter how delicious the food I was eating or how tasty the drink I was imbibing?

UNTANGLING BUSTER

I then thought of when I moved back to Ontario some years ago. I’d moved into a neighbourhood which my friend thought wasn’t such a good place to live. It was a rough area, so of course it had to have lots of crime and dangerous derelicts.

OVER EIGHT K HIKE. GREAT TO BE IN SHAPE

One night he and I went for a walk to a coffee shop. We passed many houses and we would sometimes see the people inside the houses. At one house we saw a group of adults sitting around a table.

TAKING A BREAK ON A CAPE MABOU HIGHLAND TRAIL

I said, “See those people in the house who are sitting around their kitchen table? Do you know what they’re doing?”

Of course, my friend didn’t have a clue what I was going to say next. Why would he?

HAD AN AGE-RELATED EPIPHANY 200 K. FROM TOP OF MTN OVER-LOOKING ENCHANTED VALLEY

I said, "They're looking at a map of the places in your nice neighbourhood they’re planning to break into. They’re not going to rob me because criminals don’t crap on their own doorsteps or front or back porches or decks.”

VINCENT ON TOP OF SAME MTN OVER-LOOKING ENCHANTED VALLEY. HE HAD A DIFFERENT EPIPHANY

Of course the hornets aren’t criminals and they ain’t stupid, but maybe they follow the same rules.

AND THEY SAY THERE AREN'T ANY DINASOURS

I have another thought. It’s about the conflict between the Indigenous People and the non-Indigenous people over the lobster fishery.

FLOATING IN COLOUR

I'm not super knowledgable about what all the ins and outs are, but I do have a suspicion that some of the Whites’ intrinsic ideas about the logic of profit, sustainability, livelihood and their perception that the lobsters are mostly only a resource might be part of the problem. The spiritual dimension is almost non-existent. Add in the spiritual dimension and the lobsters would probably have a much greater chance of being respected and would therefore have a better chance of thriving.

I think the hornets in my neighbourhood appreciate the Twilight Zone I live in. I believe this zone can be found somewhere in the Bible and some other great books.

MAGIC IN THE MIDDLE RIVER

“I lost my talk
The talk you took away.
When I was a little girl at Shubenacadie school,
You snatched it away:
I speak like you
I think like you
I create like you
The scrambled ballad, about my word.
Two ways I talk
Both ways I say,
Your way is more powerful.
So gently I offer my hand and ask
Let me find my talk
So I can teach you about me.”
Rita Joe

FACES IN A PAIL

WAVES AT BEAUTIFUL COVE IN THE CAPE MABOU HIGHLANDS

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Live and Let Live

8/10/2020

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A BIG ONE HANGING JUST ABOVE THE TRAIL

In 2016 a friend of mine passed away. He was an artist and a joker and after his death some weird events began to happen. I’ll describe one event.

One day, not long after his death, I went outside to feed the birds and that’s when I noticed that somehow the hornets had managed to build a nest. I didn’t remember seeing it the day before.

PRIVATE CEMETARY

It was constructed close to where we sat on our deck. A place where we eat and drink and make merry. I figured I’d have to move it. Maybe smoke them out.

I didn’t have to, because by the time I got around to doing anything about it the nest had picked up its bed and walked and re-located to the side of the woodshed. This is a place where I also like to sit and imbibe some drink or another. I have five such places outside.

A PHOTO FROM LAST BLOG THAT JUST WON'T STAY OUT OF THIS BLOG

I should mention that I’m not allergic to hornets, so I didn’t have that to worry about. Still, they would only be a wall away from where I sat and I didn’t expect the hornets to respect my living space.

VINCENT SITTING AT LITTLE PICNIC TABLE IN FRONT OF LITTLE HOUSE

Being a person who worries about the human race’s continuous abuse of and separation from nature, I began to think about setting up an experiment. What if I did nothing about the nest? What if I let them be instead of treating them like we humans seem to treat so many wild creatures and plants? Would they let me be? Could I sit in the woodshed and drink a beer without being attacked, stung and forced out? Would they bring in big machines clear-cut me out so they could get at my Big Spruce Beer?

FRIEND SKETCHING ON RED ISLAND BEACH

So, I let them be and they hardly ever bothered me. Very few even made a sojourn into the woodshed. None bit me or tried to bite me. A few did investigate my drinks and did envy my elixirs. Very un-god like.

I gained a respect for how critters like hornets can live and let live and I’ve treated them that way since the summer of 2015.

AVOIDING THE INCOMING TIDE

A few days ago I was thinking about writing this blog when I was surprised by a crashing sound. The rope that held up the bird feeder, suet and hummingbird feeder had snapped.

I got the ladder, a piece of rope and began to repair the rope. The hummingbird feeder had managed to snag onto a clothespin, so it hadn’t fallen.

SEA-RABBIT IN A TUB

As I removed the hummingbird feeder from the hook I was soon being buzzed by a bunch of confused hornets. They like hummingbird food. They were flying around my face and neck and were putting my hornets’ nest theory to a severe test.

However, I thought, wouldn’t we be confused if we were eating at a hamburger joint and all of a sudden the building got wrenched from its foundation and moved to somewhere else?

WALKING ON PORT HOOD BOARD WALK

Anyway, I spliced a new rope to the old rope and ignored the confused hornets. Some were on the grass eating some spilled nectar, some were puzzling over the relocation of their juice joint and some were still trying to decide whether to send the military in against the Jolly White Giant.

The point is, I didn’t get bitten.

On Friday, two or three burly-looking hornets really tested my theory as they continually buzzed around me, landing on the side of my glasses, on my lip, my moustache, my arms and my legs.

PORT HOOD ISLAND GHOST STORY

Why am I writing this? One reason might be because of the continuous onslaught on our environment. Because, when I hear most politicians discuss problems of the world, they usually mention the environment at the very end of their list of worries. It seems to be low priority and yet it is our ultimate existential problem.

EAGLE LANDING NEAR MABOU

A few days ago, I was sitting on the porch of a small cabin. A hornet buzzed me. I acted nonchalant and in my head I said, “I’m a friend.”

RED ISLAND BEACH

The small hornet landed on my arm and I maintained my friendly demur. He or she walked around on my arm and explored my arm and didn’t bite.

At some point, I noticed that this visitor was missing a part of his wing. And I felt sad for the wee hornet and I wondered if the hornet had landed on my arm because he was dying and he saw my aura, if hornets see auras, and decided my arm was a friendly zone?

A MALLARD DUCK ??

Am I being silly to think like this, or do we humans have to learn to see, because how we see is what we see.

“Moses could never have seen burning bushes as the Divine, could never have persevered with so much unknowing, unless he had moved to a higher level of seeing.”
Richard Rohr, The Naked Now

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AN INCONVENIENT BUG

7/9/2020

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RELAXING BEFORE STACKING

The social distancing aspect of the virus has not been for us, too huge a deal. Most likely because we live in the boonies and besides, we aren’t much for events, get-togethers or glad-handing in any organized way.

GEESE FAMILY OUT FOR A FLOAT

We did do some research and learned that the beasts and the birds around here aren’t contagious to us nor us to them. So we’re all still in each others’ faces. The squirrels and birds are still nose to beak to nose with me while I fill the feeder, the mice are still living in our power box, the hummingbirds still buzz our windows and my beer glasses, the coyotes, fishers and other critters are, sadly, still eating our neighbour’s cats and I was recently told, just before I went swimming in the ocean, that the Great White Sharks are loosening their human to shark social distancing restrictions around here.

CLOUDS KISSING IN A POND

Of course we have to go to town. Population eight hundred. We have to eat and there’s the mask requirement thing, the arrows, the size four to size eight shoe imprints on the floors, the clerks all looking like ticket sellers and nobody being able to tell who’s the robber and who’s the robberee and the constant hand spraying. I’m risking alcoholism with the amount of alcohol I’m applying to my hands. I also orally imbibe.

HIKER ENJOYING HEMLOCK FOREST NEAR NORTH FALLS

I’ve ended up in some interesting places by simply following the arrows. One day I walked two full circuits of a grocery store parking lot before I realized the fat white arrow with the point curving away from the front door was only meant for motorized vehicles. Just kidding here, but the amount of shuffling and dressing myself up for the two metre review has been phenomenal.

STRANGE WHITE BLOBS BY SHUBENACADIE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL LANEWAY

I have, however, noticed that we humans can adapt to almost anything and there’s lots of humour to go around. For example, I was in a short line-up outside the NSLCB. The man in front of me, who was wearing a cloth mask, said, “The last time I wore a mask I spent three years in Dorchester.” Hardy har.

SUE AND HANNAH WALKING TO BADDECK RIVER

And the mask thing and wearing glasses is a sweaty, misty-glassed conundrum and my eyes are tending towards permanent cock-eyedness. When I’m inside a store, my damn glasses steam up and before long I begin to feel as if I’m on a ship in a gale on the high seas, with the doubling or tripling of everything on the shelves as if I’m in some kind of shopper’s Noah’s Ark. And when I walk out of the store and look for my truck I have to decide which one is the real truck and which one is the mask induced dizzy copy of my truck. I’m rich.

I've also learned that all those people who are shy or don't particularly like to talk to people can now hide behind their masks. They can use the excuse that they don’t recognize anyone. It takes the edge off the old Cape Breton friendliness thing.

BADDECK RIVER

However, if a person does stop the requisite two meters from me and then says, “Hello, nice day,” and he’s looking at a twelve pack of three ply toilet paper, the first thing I do is check to see if he’s wearing glasses. If he is, then I suspect it’s probably me he’s talking to.

CORMORANTS ON CHETICAMP ISLAND

And, as I nervously try to follow all the rules at the checkout counter and happen to drop some money on the floor, well you know what it’s like. I practically have to dial up Colombo and get him to find my money because the mask kills about half my eyeball-to-floor vision.

Also, at first I thought the make-up industry would be sad about masks. I worry about weird things. Anyway, the masks can cover so many facial flaws. So who needs so much makeup? Then I began to notice foreheads. They reveal a lot besides age. Frowns stick out like a turkey’s neck and the pandemic is giving people many reasons to frown. I figure we’ll soon be seeing commercials for forehead conditioners, forehead botox shots and forehead makeup.

CHETICAMP ISLAND ROCK CRITTER GHOSTS

However, being able to look up at the sky and know that the blue was probably a little bluer was a wonderful feeling. A positive amongst the sad effects of the pandemic.

WEE ANGELS AT REMOTE CHETICAMP ISLAND GRAVEYARD

Apparently, I’m better off than many people when it comes to coping. I listened to a psychologist give tips on how to deal with anxiety caused by the pandemic. He said that those who have lived a life with some anxiety have learned coping skills and may be able to use those skills to cope with good old COVID.

EAGLE PERCHED ON CHETICAMP ISLAND

Thank god for small miracles because being a fish in so many wrong ponds has filled my tool box with corona anxiety crushers. As my mother used to say, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

EAGLE LANDING ON CHETICAMP ISLAND

I am however adding stress to stress by watching too much of that horribly sad and addictive reality show called “American Politics”.

COLOURFUL HIKER ON CHETICAMP ISLAND

And one more photograph.

our laneway in early morning light

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OH DEER ME

3/8/2020

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PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN MIDDLE RIVER

Recently I stumbled upon a few sentences which got me thinking about the chaos that is happening in a country not far away.

“Mussolini, whose supporters were particularly brutal in Tuscany, believed that a violent minority insurrection could achieve authoritarian rule. “Under the pretence of saving the country from Bolshevism, the fascists were thus able to attack governmental authority and create anarchic conditions which would make people long for an authoritarian government.”
Jeffrey Meyers, D.H. Lawrence A Biography

HIGHLAND'S NATIONAL PARK CLOUDS

Some weeks back, Sue and I went in for a hair clipping. It was the first one since the social isolating situation began.

After we got snipped the three of us piled into the truck and on the way to North Sydney we piled into a deer. He was killed instantly. Poor deer. None of us was happy about killing the deer, but the deer had suddenly popped out from the side of the road only four or five feet from the front of the truck. The passenger door had to be pried open so that Sue and Buster could vacate and there was plenty of cosmetic damage to the truck. Poor truck.

SURREAL CLOUDS NATIONAL PARK

I have to give a special thanks to the insurance company and the RCMP. They all were very helpful and the police actually drove us the 100 K’s to the city so we could get a car rental. One police officer dropped us off near North Sydney. Another police officer was there to take us right up to the front door of the rental company. How great is that? And Sue and Buster got to sit in the back seat behind bars and everything. How sweet is that?

The truck thing took over five weeks to get resolved.

Meanwhile, about three weeks ago, I had my computer upgraded. I got it home and in less than a week it had a nervous breakdown. I had mine after we hit the deer.

ON OUR WAY TO SYDNEY

So we drove to Sydney; Buster and Sue having the job of keeping an eye out for any deer attempting to jay-walk.

In Sydney I bought a new expensive computer. It was also the smallest one in the brand I wanted. And how I dreaded the whole new computer thing. I hate computer learning curves!

And my worries were played out. My photos were not given permission to enter my new computer. My mouse wouldn’t play. My external drive wouldn’t talk with my hard drive. Also, the keyboard was smaller and my new computer kept trying to sell me dresses and women’s face masks. Granted, some great pics.

FREEDOM

Anyway, I got some of this worked out and then—-. Well, it was a sunny afternoon when I noticed what looked like some cloudy finger prints on the top left hand side of my screen.

“Oh well,” I said to myself. “I’ll take the computer in and have them clean the screen and also have them show me how to obedience train my new computer.”

The next day, as I was playing learning curve, I noticed that somebody had laid foggy fingerprints all over my screen. Then I noticed the computer was tearing up. The plasma tears leaking from a pin hole in my screen. Then I discovered two or three tiny cracks.

WALKING THE ROAD

Off we went to the big city where I convinced them I needed a new computer that wasn’t a cry-baby and had tougher skin.

And that’s the scoop, folks. I’m writing this blog on the newest member of our computer family and so far the screen hasn’t cracked or leaked, but I know that the learning curve isn’t going to play nice.

HAWKWEED

Actually, to tell you the truth, I’m waiting to hit an unfamiliar and suspicious looking key by mistake which will cause my screen to either go black forever and ever or crack into a zillion pieces of sticky wee chards of special computer glass.

“It can’t be that bad. Surely,” Sue said. Amen.

A RED TREE DINNER PLATE

And, by the way, my new computer has a new photo program. You may notice the learning curve effects in the photos.

PS: I had to return to the computer store today where I had the expert get the lead out of my computer mouse’s ass.

A TREE KNUCKLE

Then, trying to kill two birds with one stone, I decided I would go to Mark’s Wear House where I planed to return a pair of pants. They were, I’m sad to say, too tight.

So, I waited in the line-up, making sure I was standing on the size eight shoe pictures that are glued to the floor every six feet.

“Can I help you sir?” The nice lady said.

“I’d like to return these pants,” I said.

“You’re in Michaels,” she replied.

CHAMOMILE

Rather embarrassing, and I can explain why I ended up there, but it might not make things sound better.

So, I went outside, stepped out into the parking lot, looked up at the store-front signs and chose the correct store.

BEAUTIFUL BELLE COTE BEACH

I once again lined up, got served by a nice server, told him I didn’t think this was a good day to buy clothes and then got my refund.

As I was about to leave, the man looked me in the eyes and said, “May
God be with you.”

Now what does that mean?

THE BEAUTIFUL LONG AND WINDING ROAD

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MARKETING FUN AND JOY

25/6/2020

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YELLOW RUMPED WARBLER

Writing a novel is hard work. But marketing?! My god! It feels like undergoing daily stomach flu up-chucks.

It’s like fly fishing. You take a long time to prepare the fly and then when you cast out your precious hand-crafted fly it’s like maybe I’ll catch one and maybe I won’t. While the black flies, deer flies and mosquitoes poke, gnaw and flutter in and out of every orifice on your body.

WATER FROM THE FOREST

Why I’ve researched until I was grinding my teeth and squeezing the life out of my chair’s innocent arm. What a hoot! Party time!

Get an agent. Don’t need an agent. Self publish. Traditional publishers are the best. Begin with the ending. End with the beginning. Opposite opinions everywhere. It’s like listening to political discourse. It pollutes your brain with dark noise and threatens to drive me into deeply depressive ruminations.

SALMON POOL'S TRAIL

Do we need evil to have good? Black to have white? Hard to have soft? An agent to not have an agent? Planning your novel to not planning your novel? Eating healthy food to not eating healthy food. See what I mean? If you do, then maybe you should have yourself checked out.

BESIDE SALMON POOL'S TRAIL

Speaking of, there are plenty of opinions about this corona virus and the approach to take. Here’s one from a college retiree.

A SNORING LOG

“I am not sure its entirely cynicism, but I do think that society has watered down people. They want and need to be force fed everything from fast food to (supposed) news and information. I haven't watched the news in 3 months and haven't missed a thing! This whole CV19 thing is very much a media driven event herding people around like cattle, unduly influencing their actions and decisions because they cannot function for themselves.”
A College Retiree

WINDY AFTERNOON ON BEACH

I play games when I am, for example, cycling.

Here’s one. I pretend I’m on a game show.

Now, one of the roads I cycle on is only technically paved.

“Gee mommy, that road isn’t wearing any pavement.”

“Settle down, sonny. It’s Cape Breton and it’s wearing Cape Breton pavement.”

FOAMY CHETICAMP RIVER

My cycling road has potholes to die for. Cars go the long way to avoid the road. Around here, you purchase ball joints at the bulk store.
However, it’s a good road on which to play my little game.

HEADING OUT OVER THE OCEAN

So how does the game go? Well, I pretend I’ve been given this task. I have to cycle to the end of the road without seeing a motorized vehicle. Either direction. I don’t make it easy. If I see no vehicles I win a million dollars.

SEAGULL LANDING

The last time I played I did pretty well. No cars up to the final five K stretch. Five more k’s and I’m a millionaire.

Here comes a damn SUV ducking around the holes.

“Damn you!” I whisper as I give the driver a cheery wave and a swear-finger behind my back. I can ride with no hands.

CHETICAMP RIVER

Now, because of the damn SUV, I’m only playing for one hundred thousand dollars. If I see another vehicle it drops to ten thousand dollars.

CABIN ON SALMON POOL'S TRAIL

So how much did I win in my last cycling game? I won one hundred thousand dollars. Not a bad haul for an hour’s cycling.

I dare you to try that game on the Trans Canada. However, the rules are a little different. If you see a car or a truck, you can phone a friend.

ON THE WAY TO CHETICAMP

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THE ROAD TO SOMEWHERE

6/6/2020

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THE ROAD

I’ve been watching for some time, a leader trash his country. I believe that De La Fontaine was correct when he wrote “We believe no evil until the evil’s done.”
Jean De La Fontaine, Fables. Book 1

HARSH REALITY

“Great men are they who see that the spiritual is stronger than any material force; that thoughts rule the world.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Progress of Culture

Yesterday I watched a Bible being used and abused in front of a church. It made me think of this quote.

“It is hard to think that men could from innocent motives thus punish their fellows, but such is, no doubt, the fact. They were conscientious, and felt that they were doing the righteous service unto the Lord. They believed literally in cutting off right hands and plucking out right eyes. Heaven and hell were alike under their control. They believed that they had the keys, and they lived up to their convictions. They could smile when they heard bones crack in the stocks and saw the maiden’s flesh torn from her bones. It is only the best things that serve the worst perversions. Many pious souls today hate the negro while they think they love the Lord.”
Life and Times of Frederick Douglas, Frederick Douglas

FROM ON HIGH

It helps me feel a little better when I read about all the authors who had to deal with crap-loads of rejection slips before their books were published. Misery loves company.

J.K. Rowling’s “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone” (1997) was rejected by twelve presses.

The rejection letter for F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” said, ”You’d have a decent book if you’d get rid of that Gatsby character.”

William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies” was rejected twenty-one times. One rejection letter read that it was “an absurd and uninteresting fantasy which was rubbish and dull.”

OCEAN, ROCK AND SKY

The book “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” was rejected 121 times.

Stephen King, who had plenty of rejection letters wrote, “—-impale the rejection letter on a spike and keep writing—.”

BRAVERY

And what about editors who will publish your book, but want lots of changes? Editors are extremely important and most published books have had good editors. However, when does a writer risk having an editor force changes which don’t come close to the writer’s vision?

LAUGHING

Or what about when the editors decide how they think the novel could be improved? Then the writer changes the novel to satisfy the publisher and BANG! Incoming rejection letter.

I personally was told by a publisher that my novel was too dark and too angry. I’m thinking that maybe it wasn’t angry enough, but I whitened it up a tad, gave it an anti-depressant and re-wrote it. Didn’t matter. I got the rejection letter.

IS THIS A PAINTING?

Now I just need 121 publishers’ names and addresses so I can receive my allotted number of rejection slips for my new blockbuster “Zen and the Art of Ego Maintenance”.

ABUNDANCE. ALL BY HERSELF

Like everyone else, I’ve been hearing plenty about this virus. Yes sir, we have a tiger by the tail and it ain’t going to be easy to let it go.

LAYERS ON LAYERS

And, not only that, but we have ticked off the environment and it’s, I believe, playing a part in this corona virus saga.

FOLLOW THE FENCE

One of the comments I’ve heard is that this pandemic didn’t have to happen. That if the government and other ruler types had done their job, we wouldn’t be in this lock-down situation.

WOOD DUCK FLOATING ON OUR POND

However, although I’m sad that people are dying, in another way, I think this pandemic had to happen. The human race had to, at some point, take its knee off the environment’s neck and allow it time to clean up and regain its health.

MALLARDS??

I hope when this virus is beaten we don’t, once again, jump full bore into abusing, taking for granted and raping the natural world.

WORTH PROTECTING

An example is the clear-cutting of forests during song bird nesting season. Such a small thing in the overall operation of the universe and yet the corona virus is so tiny it’s invisible to the naked eye. I guess the natural world has some testy little treats who can punch way beyond their weight class.

HIKING BUDDY ENJOYING RED ISLAND BEACH

“Continue to contaminate your own bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.”
Chief Seattle

ON RED ISLAND BEACH

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LINE-UPS

6/5/2020

2 Comments

BLACK RIVER FEN PRESERVE NEAR INVERNESS

I was sitting on a Baddeck park bench by the Bras D’or Lake shoreline waiting for Blaze’s summer tires to be put on. As I hugged the new deluxe mop that I’d bought for Sue, I couldn’t help but notice how blue the sky looked. I could believe that nature was cleaning itself because we were, for the most part, leaving it alone.

I worry that when the economy gets rolling again, the world will go back to their dirty economical tricks and blind financial dogma and not nuance their way to a solution where we can live with the environment and not against it.

HEADING OUT TO SEA

I’ve been noticing that lining up for entry to stores is a good way to meet people outside my six-foot protection zone. I’ve had quite a few corona chats.

Last week I was lined up at the hardware store. People were coming out of the store loaded with goodies. Some of them had helpers waiting for them outside so they could unload their haul and go inside to get more.

ICE. WATCH YOUR STEP

The lady standing in front of me told me that people were phoning ahead and putting in their orders. The woman then went into the store and came out with pipes and dampers and paint and mysterious gadgets. She unloaded it all on the ground so she could go in and get more.

WALKING TO LINE-UP FREE STORE

The person behind me asked me if I’d ordered ahead. I said no.

Then I said, to all the line-uppers behind me, “All I’m lining up for is to buy this.” I then reached into my pocket and pulled out a very tiny night-light lamp bulb.

The line-uppers did the chuckle wave until it got to the last person in the lineup who was having a getting-into-the-store dream dancing in her head.

SNOW SPIDER

Last Friday it became apparent to me that a person can, over time, build up some rather interesting relationships with servers in different establishments.

For example, every Friday I buy a healthy Iced Cap at a local coffee shop. The staff has got to know me. They’ll often say, “Two Iced Caps, right?” before I even order.

DISAPPOINTED HAWK AFTER MISSING A ROBIN BY A FEATHER

One day I responded with, “Yes, that’s what I want, but maybe, some day, I might want to buy something else.”

The young female server brandished her fist at me and said, “You better not!”

BADDECK HARBOUR CROW

Another day, just before they had decided to close up the inside of the store and resort to drive-through only, I went to grab a straw for my precious Iced Cap and there weren’t any. The manager told me they’d hidden them away because of the virus.

A young server stepped to the counter and said, “Don’t you worry! We’ll look after you!”

COLTS FOOT

Last Friday, after dancing my way through this store and that store and after helping an elderly woman find help to get her keys out of her car, I went through the coffee shop vehicle pick-up.

When I got to the ordering picture place where you can see what you’ve ordered, so you can remember what you’ve ordered, I said, “One Iced Cap please.”

I SEE YOU

The faceless voice replied, “Two Iced Caps.”

I said, “No, just one Iced Cap.”

The faceless voice, who obviously knew me, actually had the gall to question my order.

WOLF WOMAN'S HOUSE AND BARN

She said, “What about your wife?”

Well that shocked me and I quickly replied, “She doesn’t like them as well as I do.”

EIGHT AM BREAKFAST

That’s all I had and I felt rather guilty and sad and derelict in my duties as a good partner. I was torn. One reason I didn’t buy Sue one was because I worry about the residual viruses that might be on the cups. Who knows? More nuance and to be truthful about it, Sue and I often go through the drive-through where I buy two Iced Caps.

GOOSE

Anyway, this faceless voice was defending Sue and as I slowly pulled away from the speaker, I heard her shout into her mouthpiece, “Buy her a donut!”

Am I too sensitive? Who knows?

However, remember I told you, in another blog, that the Co-op doesn’t take our returnable bottles anymore. Well, we’ve made a good thing out of that. We are using the bottles and filling them with clean spring water. It’s probably healthier.

LIGHT IT UP, WOULD YOU?

On Sunday, after we got our spring water, I drove to that coffee shop and went through the drive-through and ordered two Iced Caps. Part of the reason was because I wanted the faceless voice to see that I was a good partner who was buying two Iced Caps.

Alas, she wasn’t there and I’ll have to order two for sure next Friday.

BLACK RIVER FEN PRESERVE

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SMOKING OUT THE VIRUS

21/4/2020

7 Comments

BADDECK RIVER

Humans are scared. Many are suffering and some even dying. This is tragic and the news never lets us get it out of our minds. And we have to socially isolate on top of this. Parks and trails are closed and we’re all trying not to mentally, physically and socially rust.

MOUNTAIN CORONA VIRUS BURST ASUNDER

So, most of us are staying home. That leads to plenty of folks watching a lot of television. They see commercials like, “Sitting is the new smoking.” What the hell has smoking become? Worry, worry, worry. As if we don’t have enough to chew on.

CORONA VIRUS SLAYER

Meanwhile, nature is relieved. Ecstatic. It’s getting a chance to clean up at this sudden lack of exploitation. It’s as if the world has said, “You go to your room, stuff yourself with visual, virtual, plastic crap, if you really need to, but don’t come out until you’ve cleaned up your mess.”

PESKY

I carry a tape measure. Whenever I meet somebody, I pull it out, extend it to the requisite two metres and then do my dance steps.

It’s tricky, because there are so many different dance steps. Individuals, for example, when they’re attempting to socially distance from others are tripping over themselves as they try to do their avoidance dance in a polite way without appearing as if they’re attempting to avoid you. And what dance is it? The waltz, the mumbo, the klutz, the twist?

SOCIAL DISTANCING FROM BUSTER

I might be doing the mumbo in the Co-op and discover that these dance steps only apply to the liquor store.

Walmart’s dance is smoother, like a waltz. Two steps back and wait while the flow of traffic passes as they follow the %^&* arrows. No reverse.

The scariest place is the drugstore. It’s insides are wrapped in police tape. The steps to their dance are very complicated. I believe it’s a type of voodoo dance. Two steps forward. Three steps to the left. Two steps to the right. Four steps to the counter and doe-se-doe to the corner. One two three, one two three and then run like hell.

MOUNTAIN CORONA VIRUS HOUSE

After each dance, it’s sanitize time. Rub a dub, dub and jump in the tub and then stick a pin into my corona virus doll.

Sometimes Sue, Buster and I come home, start the wood-stove, leave the stove door open and smoke ourselves. We don’t think the virus likes smoke. It’s a theory.

GOLD BROOK KITTY CAT GANG

Another thing. I’ve spent years trying to learn how to properly socialize. Trying to learn how to have proper manners and a cool politeness that adds a syrupy atmosphere to the air around me. A sort of deep-voiced Gregory Peck effect.

“Hi Larry. How are you doing?”

“Good.”

Back step, one, two, three. Stop. Side step off the curve and one, two, three forward. Watch for cars.

WAITING IT OUT

And the plastic screens that protect the servers in the stores distort my vision. It feels like I’m looking through a hockey visor.

Not only that. When I was in the liquor store in Port Hawkesbury, I heard a server ask for an air miles card. I just stood there. I heard it again. I looked at my cashier. She was moving her lips. So, I figured she must’ve wanted my card.

BACK HOME

What happened was that the plastic barrier made it sound like the cashier behind me wanted an air miles card. I’m now surrounded by ventriloquists.

I eventually dug out my air miles card.

“Thank-you,” she said.

“Pretty good,” I replied, as I fingered the tape measure in my left hand pocket.

“Have yourself a nice day, sir.”

“Go Leafs go.”

“Security!”

EXACTLY TWO METRES APART

And I’m now peroxiding every knob I see. And handles, buttons, clamps, tins of food, Buster’s choke chain, Sue’s gorgeous watch, my hands, the bird feeder, the birds, if I can catch them, the tap, bottoms of my boots, the tops of my socks, the hand sanitizer bottles, etc..

PEACEFUL WALK

Now I’ve heard that even Buster is a threat. He has to be sanitized. Really? Is Buster our new unhealthy eating habits?

But, I’m doing good. I feel good. I feel wonderful. I’m baby-stepping. I’m sanitizing.

“How long is this going to last?” I’m asked.

“Pretty good. Go Leafs go.” One, two, three.

Pull out my tape measure. Measure. Measure. Sanitize. Sanitize.

BADDECK RIVER

Gotta go and learn a new dance.

“Line up and stomp your feet.
Move forward, step to the beat.
Shuffle forward, one, two, three.
Not so good, I need to pee.”
Larry Gibbons, The Grocery Store Shuffle

SEE YOU NEXT BLOG

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I FEEL GOOD. I FEEL WONDERFUL.

1/4/2020

1 Comment

OH NO! A MONSTER VIRUS!

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

MONSTER VIRUS

This positive mantra reminds me of the words in the movie ‘What About Bob?’ Poor Bob Wiley was paranoid about almost everything and he was, in this movie, really funny as he baby- stepped through his scary world.

Lately, I’ve felt that way.

I often use humour to get through rough times. I also can understand that saying ‘I feel good, I feel wonderful’ might not be a bad idea. Because this virus outbreak can wear on a person’s sense of security.

HOME SWEET HOME

Take the post office. I went there to get some stamps. That’s all I wanted. Stamps. Ten of them. A rather mundane request.

I walked into the post office after reading the warning sign, and I heard,

“Have you been out of the country in the last—?” I forget how long it was.

“No.” I started walking towards the counter.

“No! No sir! Go around the other side of the display counters.”

“Yes mam.”

“How can I help you?”

“I’d like ten stamps.”

“Stay there. Don’t get close.”

“Okay, come here and pick up the stamps.” Etc. Etc.

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

SOMETHING INTERESTING ON NICHOLSON TRAIL

I went through the Timmy’s drive-through. When I paid, I told her to keep the corona virus change. She looked mystified. I didn’t blame her. I’d used my weird humour.

“You can keep the change because of the virus. It’s a virus tip,” I explained.

She smiled. I think she might have got it. Don’t blame her if she didn’t.

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

BELLE COTE BEACH

I sterilized the plastic cup by cleansing it with hydrogen peroxide.

SEAGULLS RELAXING ON BEACH

At the co-op, I went to exchange an empty bottle for a full water bottle.

“We’re not taking exchanges at the moment,” the woman said.

I said. “I guess I’m going to see the empty plastic bottles as big investments for the future.”

She looked at me as she disinfected a bottle of disinfectant.

“In Ontario I turned in a hundred dollars worth of plastic bottles before we took off for Nova Scotia,” I explained.

She thought that was interesting. I’d clarified.

 feel good. I feel wonderful. I baby-stepped.

BELLE COTE BEACH

At the beer store I told the clerks that my hands were going to fall off from all the hand sterilizer stuff I’d been putting on them. Not a glimmer of a ha-ha.

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

Oh, and I’ve had to take my ring off. All the virus killer has made it so my ring keeps slipping off my finger. The last time it fell into the bottom of my grocery bag.

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

AN INADVERTENT SCULPTURE

The drugstore was a crap show. I asked the woman why were only two people allowed in and why all the police tape and such. Is there some news I haven’t heard about? Ha,ha,ha.

The woman did squeeze out a grin. She was the one who told me to stay where I was and asked me where I thought I was going.

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

GOT ME THINKING

A few days ago I woke up with my stomach full of bees when I thought about the world and the virus. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel wonderful.

So, I climbed a mountain. I sat on a log and listened to the absolute silence, except for the wind which had just begun to bring in a snow storm. I did feel good and I did feel wonderful. The silence of the wind, the snow, fresh air, the forest, it couldn’t help but make me feel wonderful.

MOUNTAIN FOREST

And you know what. Remember when I told you that they wouldn’t take my empty water bottle for a deposit. That did, at a later date, make me feel good and wonderful.

You see, I was sitting on the couch drinking tea, eating a tuna sandwich and watching Trudeau trying to do his very difficult job. I didn’t watch the other channel because I can’t stand watching the orange clown bragging about how well he is doing his job. Too not feeling good. Too not feeling wonderful.

Sue was also doing a difficult job. She was wiping water up off the floor. She’d dry it and it would be wet again. She’d dry it some more and it would be wet again. She was definitely not feeling good or wonderful.

ME ON MOUNTAIN BY MY LONESOME

I jumped off the couch and checked out the problem. There was, not far away, the new water bottle that I’d bought that morning. I picked it up. It’s heavy. Water was leaking out of a crack at the bottom of the bottle.

Guess what? I had an empty bottle to empty the water into because the store had refused to take it because of the corona virus. Wasn’t that handy? Wasn’t that good and wonderful and coincidental?

I feel good. I feel wonderful.

Hopefully, we all will, at some point.