Blog Posts

PRESCRIPTIONS AND WEEDS

5/5/2022

BECKONING

In December, after Sue disappeared, I took an on-line crash course. It was called ‘Becoming a Doctor’.

It was a strenuous course and required a lot of reading. I graduated the day after I enrolled and immediately prescribed medication for myself. It was one to three cans of Big Spruce Beer per day. I prescribed plenty of re-fills.

However, over time I discovered that this prescription was too strong. So, I decided to drop the dosage.

HE SURE CAN MOVE

I’ll tell you this. The pro-beer-drinking lawyer in my mind is always trying to up my prescription dosage. He’s a match for any top notch city legal professional.

For example, I decided that I would make a certain day per week, beer free. My sneaky lawyer didn’t like that.

On one beer-free day, I visited a friend. We went for a long healthy hike and after we got back to her house, some folks dropped around. I was asked if I wanted a glass of beer. This would be a half dose. My lawyer nudged me into saying, “Yes please.”

CLOUDS OVER HIGHLANDS

On the way home I didn’t have to pass the liquor store. However, a few minutes later I was walking through my alcohol purveyor’s front door.

Here’s how that happened. Blame my lawyer.

“Listen,” he said to me. “You’ve already had a beer and blown up this beer-free day.”

It made sense in a deeply esoteric way.

So, I bought two cans, but am happy to report that I only drank one that evening.

DOMINIC ON A BALE OF HAY

Word quickly got to my lawyer that I had only consumed one of the two cans. So, the next day, he convinced me that this day should not be looked at as a no-drinking-beer day just because I blew up yesterday’s plan. It wouldn’t be fair to me or to any other person who loved justice. I had to stick to my plan even if I hadn’t stuck to my plan the day before.

I therefore bought two cans of beer for that day. Legally, before things got all bumbled up, this day was slotted to be a two-pint-dosage day. Now I would have three beer in the fridge. Two to drink and one to spice up my dosage consumption with some exciting temptation.

You see, I have two very special days where I have three beer, but this day was a normal two-beer day. However, my lawyer had more to say about that.

“Oh Larry, for ‘F’ sake. Yesterday turned out not to be a no-beer day, as you planned because you had half a dose and then another full pint dose which made it a two can day, even if you didn’t drink the other one. Therefore, to fulfill your prescription for today, which is, legitimately, a two can day, you should most certainly drink the two beers you just bought and then drink the other beer because, you may have forgotten, but you were going to allow yourself three beer days during every statutory holiday. Do you have any idea how many of those days you have missed?”

“Oh cripes,” I thought. He had me against the ropes.

See what I mean. This character is really sharp and he knows where to hit my thirsty spots.

I decided, that the next day, beginning at twelve am sharp, I’d be strong and no matter what my beer besotted lawyer said, I’d only prescribe what I had decided to prescribe.

STARTING POINT OF TRAIL TO ESKASONI CROSS

I made this decision while I sat in the woodshed, drinking one of my drinks and while Dominic poked and prodded his nose about the woodshed as he tried to find a rascally squirrel.

I mentioned this decision to my lawyer and waited to see how he spun out his arguments. I planned to hang tough.

My internal lawyer is no dummy. He changed the topic. He distracted me and didn’t try to change my mind.

You see, he started to blab on about weeds. Not weed. Weeds however, for a brief moment I’d thought he was going to get me toking and drinking. I thought he was branching out, but no, he was actually talking about the plants that many of us call weeds.

Good Friday PILGRIM

He mentioned that some people think certain plants are weeds and certain plants aren’t weeds.

So now my damn lawyer is a horticulturist.

He showed me, in my mind, exhibit one. It was a photo of a massive field. It was covered in dandelions. Bright yellow dandelions.

“What do you think of all those dandelions?” He asked.

THEY"RE EVERYWHERE

I swallowed a portion of my prescription, thought about his question and then answered.

“I think the dandelions in the photo are out of control,” I said. “They’re probably suffocating out some of the prettier plants.”

My addiction lawyer pounced. He pulled out exhibit two.

“Take a good look at this photo.” He pushed the photo right up close to my frontal cortex.

It was a photograph of a major city. The city smothered kilometres and kilometres of acreage. Not a dandelion in sight. Roads, concrete, concrete and more concrete and steel.

JENNA HIKING ESKASONI TRAIL ON GOOD FRIDAY

“Who’s out of control?” He said.

I suddenly felt mighty thirsty. My lawyer suggested I have another beer.

Then he pulled out exhibit three. It was a photo of a massive clear cut. My damn lawyer was a rubber booter.

“Do you know how many diseases that dandelions can help cure?”

I said I didn’t. He therefore rattled off a list of their benefits.

MORNING HIKE WITH DOMINIC

“Well then, stop bad mouthing them and drink your beer before it goes sour. Respect the dandelions ability to withstand human depredations. Let’s drink to that.”

Later on, I whipped off to my purveyors, after I decided to make this day a four-pint-beer day. A really, really special day. My lawyer was pleased.

Back in the woodshed, I got thinking, wouldn’t it be great if all those internal lawyers who continuously work at talking us into addictive behaviours, were able to get together and argue for saving our planet from our uncontrollable addictive consumption.

PUDDLE ICE GOES TO CHURCH

Suddenly, while I was sitting in the woodshed chair, trying to tie these tenuous thoughts together, so that this blog wouldn’t look totally out there, young Dominic plunked himself onto my lap. A piece of a red squirrel’s tail dangled from his mouth. He dropped the tail onto my lap and gave me a kiss.

SNOW GHOST

I realized what his addiction was and wondered if he had a lawyer as smart as mine.

And that’s when I decided to take a drive and buy myself three beer-tonic cans for tomorrow. I like to be prepared.

OUR MORNING HIKING TRAIL

The purveyor woman told me it would be cheaper if I bought a four pack. My lawyer sent me a quick wink wink. I bought a four pack.

Did I mention that Dominic has a squirrel addiction? He has set up a blind under the deck and will sit in the blind for hours shaking and waiting as he watches for squirrels.

The shaking worries me a wee bit, but he seems to be in control.

LAVERNE LOOKS AT VIRGIN MARY STATUE

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Even the Best Plans

3/4/2022

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MULTI-COLOURED HIGHLANDS

Sue loved living in Cape Breton where the multi-coloured highlands were only a few minutes away.

Sue would not have been happy in a synthetic and tired-aired, dry-walled institution. No siree! She would not have been happy at all.

Some time ago, I wrote a little story. Sue enjoyed it and so I’m putting it in this blog. What the heck, eh?

FOREST SECURITY

Their daughters’ scary words had resonated with danger and the two of them were returning this evening.

The dark clouds had cooled off the afternoon air as Beth and Jason retreated to the wooden bench under the ancient and twisted oak tree. It had been old before they’d built their tiny cabin. Here, in its shade, they could talk, look out over the lake and its island and feel safe.

Beth loaned Jason her sight. He could only see a few feet in front of him.

“What colour is the lake, dear?” Jason asked.

“Colour of Theresa’s greying hair.”

“Is it all stirred up like we are?”

ICY TUNNEL

“Calm and patient.”

“Is Mica Island still out there?”

“It’s staying put.”
***
Beth’s knees ached as she bent over to place folded tea towels into a cardboard box. Years of hard outdoor labour had disfigured her fingers and toes. She chuckled when she thought about how the packed boxes, disturbed furniture and vanished knickknacks would send their daughters into a busy chatter-fest. It was always good to be a little bit ahead.

That evening the chatty daughters arrived in the elder daughter’s black SUV. Jason sat on the couch and watched the

SUE'S FAVOURITE OLD TREE

ghostly colours and forms enter through the old wooden door. A tight-faced nurse tagged behind. She worked in the ‘Halfway to Heaven’ Home.

Theresa, their eldest daughter and Melody, their youngest, perched themselves on the edge of the frayed sofa. The nurse sat on Jason’s friendly rocking chair.

The nurse, after being introduced, leaned forward like a robin poking for a worm. Jason and Beth huddled together on their tiny love seat. A gift from their family thirty-five years ago.

“Your family tells me you’ve lived here for over fifty years,” the nurse said.

“Fifty-three,” Jason replied.

THICKLY FORESTED HIGHLANDS

Beth gazed out the window. Her emotions felt like an unfinished cake. Mix her love for the family with four cups of threat and unfathomable change and she’d never get it into the oven. A hummingbird flitted around the empty feeder.

“You must have wonderful memories of this place.”

The nurse expertly guided the conversation towards an already agreed upon, reasonably guilt-free arrangement which suited their family members’ lives. Their daughters nodded each time the nurse asked a leading question.

“You live here and you get a different view on things,” Jason said.

“All of us will reach an age when we won’t be able to manage the kind of life we lived when we were younger. You’ll be safer and in the long run, happier in the seniors’ residence.”

Beth leaned on her cane and struggled into her slippers. She shuffled over to the wall and removed their deceased cat’s collar from where it hung over her daughters’ wedding pictures. Pokey’s body was buried by the large oak.

The strange thing was that when Beth had awakened, in the early morning hours, she’d found Pokey purring on her pillow. Beth placed the fur-embedded collar into one of the half empty boxes that crouched on the floor by the front door. Aware that she was being clinically observed.

GUARDING THE WOOD

Their elder daughter, neck stiff from nodding, pushed herself up from the couch, walked over to the dining room table and began checking the medication bottles that littered its shiny but aged surface.

“You’re not taking all your pills, mom.”

Beth stared out at the lake. She could smell the aroma of pine gum and waves. She spotted Melody, her younger daughter, paddling their green canoe towards Mica Island. How did she manage to get Pokey to stay in the canoe? He hated water. She chuckled until she saw Theresa, her oldest daughter rowing after Melody in their rowboat. An eagle watched from the sky’s ceiling.

A ROCK-EYE VIEW

She hoped they’d taken their life jackets. Oh dear, Melody wasn’t wearing a hat. The sun could get terribly hot.

“Something worrying you?” Theresa asked.

Beth didn’t answer. Things could get confusing.

“There’s an opening coming up in the seniors’ home. Should be ready for your mother and father within the month,” the nurse said.

They’d been dismissed.

“Perhaps one of us should drop in each day and check up on them until they can get into their room,” Melody said.

“My, my, but Melody should have left her hair long and not dyed it red,” Beth thought.

INCOMING

Jason had visited in one of those homes. He remembered the zombie-like meal chimes. He feared the condescending and over-worked institutional employees who could softly kill their dignity.

“Mom, mom, are you listening to what we’re saying?” Theresa said.

She hoisted her weight, walked over to Beth and gave her a restrained hug. Beth was relieved to see that both girls had made the island safely. She smiled.

It was decided. Tomorrow, their daughters would begin rotating their way through the manufactured schedule of operation babysitting.

LITTLE RIVER

Jason tried to spoon up next to Beth. She wasn’t there. She’d wandered to the tiny parlour couch. There, under the unpainted drywall, she wept and listened to the mice peeing in the ceiling. Melody and Theresa were still not back from the island. The wind had picked up and it made the lake mean and unforgiving.

Jason was startled by a loud crash. Along with his eyesight problems had come to the situation where he was never sure whether any loud noise he heard came from outside or inside his head.

ASPY

A light stabbed the room’s darkness. A white blob stood at the end of it.

“I heard a noise,” Beth said. “Maybe it’s the girls returning?”

“They went home,” Jason said. He pushed himself out of bed. His old friend, who’d been killed in a car/transport collision, had dropped by after their daughters had left. They’d talked about installing metal roofing on the cabin. The words had come from outside his head so he must have been mistaken about old Mort having been killed in that crash in 1998. Hard to remember things nowadays.

VIEW FROM BLUEBERRY MOUNTAIN

“We should take a look outside,” Jason said.

June bugs knocked against the living room window. The door squeaked as they opened it. Beth linked her arm through Jason’s.

They hobbled along the side of the cabin. Last fall’s dead leaves rustled. Some creature was digging under their cabin. The flashlight illuminated the spectral forms which acted as trees and sumac bushes during the day.

“We’re having the same dream, aren’t we,” Beth said.

“Must be, if you heard the noise too.”

“Melody left, you said?”

“She left with her sister,” Jason said.

WIND-BLOWN WOODS

“We should go down and make sure they properly tied up the boat and canoe,” Beth said.

Beth and Jason had always been true to their vows.

MIRACLE OF ICE

Theresa arrived in her black SUV, but had to stop on the poorly maintained dirt road. A white pick-up was squeezed to the side of the lane. A tall, stringy looking man, wearing a grubby feed-store cap, was chain-sawing a mammoth branch. She got out of her vehicle and walked towards him.

“Morning,” he said.

She responded with a constipated half smile.

“Old oak tree came down last night. Not a speck of wind. Must have been his time.”

She pushed her way through the tangle of branches. The cold lake wind pulled at her perm as Theresa walked down the path towards the cabin.
The cabin door was open. She called. Nobody answered. She called again. A raven squawked at the lake’s choppy waters. The wind teased an old shingle.

Her parents were not in the cabin. Fear replaced worry. Followed by the birth pains of a guilt she’d been trying to avoid.

She left the cabin and leaned against a maple tree for support. The tree whispered, but she didn’t understand the prayer her soul heard.

The chain saw screamed. A hummingbird whirred by her nose. The earth remained unselfish in her gifts as the daughter watched two tiny wisps of mist swirl and dance on Mica Island.

She grabbed for her cell phone.

SO MUCH BEAUTY!

Painter-poet Kuo-his once wrote of mountains:

“Inexhaustible is their mystery
In order to grasp their creations
One must love them utterly,
Study their essential spirit diligently,
And never cease contemplating them
And wandering among them.”

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NOT ALWAYS THE WAY IT SEEMS

23/3/2022

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WILDERNESS TRAIL

“———May your rivers flow without end,
meandering through pastoral valleys
tinkling with bells,
past temples and castles and poets’ towers
into dark primeval forest where tigers

WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME

belch and monkeys howl,
through miasmal and mysterious swamps
and down into a desert of red rock,

GHOSTS HANGING AROUND

blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and
grottos of endless stone,
and down again into deep vast ancient
unknown chasm

SLITHERS

FACE IN THE WATER

where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled
cliffs,

ICE AND ORGAN MUSIC

HOWLING

where deer walk across the white sand
beaches,
where storms come and go

WINTER GREEN

as lightening clangs upon the high crags,
where something strange and more beautiful
and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams
waits for you—--
beyond the next turning of the canyon
walls.
Edward Abbey

DOMINIC AND FRIEND

I’ve learned that events that may at first look bad can in the long run be good.
For example, I’m reading a book called,”An Altar in the Wilderness” by Kaleeg Hainsworth.

WATCHING DOMINIC

You see, I own this book because of Dominic. I was taking a shower and Dominic didn’t want me to be taking a shower. So while I was taking said shower, Dominic scurried to the living room and chewed on the book’s spine.

SPOTTED FOREST

SPRING ART

I explained to the librarian that my dog had gnawed on their book because he was miffed at me. They told me I had to pay for the book. They said I could keep the chewed up copy.

TOREY ENJOYING BIG SPRUCE GARDEN

Now I can read it at my leisure. Now I can highlight portions I like. Basically, Dominic did me a favour. Bless his furry little soul.

LINED UP AND READY TO GO

Things might not always be as bad as they appear.

A TRAIL TAKEN

TAKING TIME FOR A FEW PUFFS.

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GREATLY MISSED

30/1/2022

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A PLACE TO MEET

“God can bring great beauty out of complete devastation.”
Olga Michael

SUE'S HOME

This is the hardest blog I’ve ever written. Sue’s presence everywhere, my grieving emotions, my pondering over the what-ifs, my knowing that Sue has still not been found, and my understanding that there are a few, who are criticizing how I cared for Sue while she was struggling with dementia.

I’m certain that for the most part, Sue was very grateful for how I cared for her and loved her.

DOMINIC AND SUE

Because, in the midst of Sue’s dementia battle I did what I could to keep her life and my life above the dark frightening waves that living with dementia brings and which sometimes threatened our union.

And each time that our relationship had to be re-adjusted to the complexities of the disease there was, usually, an emotional price to pay. Sue was not one to give in easily. I’m pretty sure she knew that I was trying to help, but her pride and strong independence would not allow her to easily accept that she was losing more and more of her memory. So, it took a little while for things to calm down after most re-adjustments. It was our love for each other that kept us chugging along.

RELAXING

One a Sunday afternoon, I met a fella in a Baddeck parking lot. He asked me if I was okay.

I said, “I’m hanging in, but it’s tough.”

It was as if he’d been sent to give me a message.

He told me that I should not let anybody put me down. He said that I had given Sue freedom and dignity and that she had been a happy person and had had a good life. He said that he’d often talked to Sue and that even though she usually told him the same story, he loved hearing it each and every time.

He brought tears to my eyes.

This kind fella was an engineer who worked on the Cabot Trail.

SUE AND BUSTER ON COUCH

I remember Sue returning home after walking the dog and often telling me that she had been talking to her friends. Many of them were working on the Cabot Trail. I didn’t realize just how many people she talked with and how many of these people now miss her.

LITTLE SHRINE ON SUE'S TABLE

I knew what the fella meant when he said, “don’t let people put me down.”

ENJOYING NATIONAL PARK

I have this little game I play when I’m driving in Cape Breton. You see I pay for satellite radio. The problem is, it only works part of the time. So, if for example, I’m driving from my house to Margaree, the radio goes off and on. It’s off almost half the time. It loses its signal. So, when I’m listening to a song and the radio goes dead, I try to keep singing the song in my head and when the radio comes back on, I like to find out if I’m still in synch with the song.

SUE HIKING IN THE FOREST

What I’m saying is that Cape Breton isn’t wired to the hilt. Heck, we’ve only had cell phone coverage for a few years and I there are dead zones all over the place. The mountain forests are thick and criss-crossed by lumber roads which are mostly over-grown and things are hard to see from the air and cell phones often don’t work on the highlands.

SUE ENJOYING WINTER

Things here, aren’t like many other places and that’s why we loved Cape Breton. We enjoyed the casualness and genuine-ness of the people and its sense of freedom and down-to-earthiness.

We loved its beautiful wild places. The freedom that blows in the wind. The power of the river. In winter the landscape crammed with stunning snow sculptures. The weather’s amazing shows.

I’d worry about a flood and she’d tell me not to fret. Sue wasn’t hog-tied to worry and tight-assed security although she could be very organized. She did, however, have one fear that she would often talk about. The fear of ending up in an institution and losing her freedom.

ENJOYING WINTER

So, even though I’m sad as hell that she isn’t here, I’m happy that she escaped the hell that so many have to go through and that she died in a wild place, surrounded by her beloved forest.

SUE AND BUSTER

Our relationship began in a profoundly spiritual and nature-related way and the ending was just as unique and powerful. Both happened in the forest.

So she didn’t end up like one of my friends. Incontinent, under constant watch and asking to be killed.

That is the silver lining amongst the sorrowful knowledge that I’ll never see her again. Yes, she had a dignified death. Yes, she escaped a bullet. Now I have to deal with her absence. Deal with the thick sadness.

SUE WEARING BUG HAT

I have so much respect for Sue. She was strong-willed, high-spirited, powerful, dignified, brilliant and indomitable. Even when she had dementia.

She was my hero. She was my battling partner who I watched every day with amazement. Deep to my core was my sense that she needed and deserved her freedom to live the way she wanted to live until dementia became too much for both of us. My seeing her as a poor suffering soul who needed my constant, care-giver’s attention wasn’t the way I could operate and it would have caused Sue much dismay and anxiety.

Sue was my greatest supporter. She was always encouraging me and she is one of the main reasons I have a novel coming out soon. She is still part of it. Coincidentally, the novel will be called, 'DEAD AND NOT DEAD'. Isn't that strange?

ROAD SUE LOVED TO WALK

Sue was almost impossible to defeat. She overcame severe rheumatoid arthritis, lived with constant nerve pain in her hands and valiantly fought the battle against dementia.

DOMINIC

She still read the paper, kept a little journal, passionately discussed the news, walked the dog three or four times a day, did the dishes, the laundry, swept, watered the flowers, started many of the fires in the wood stove, checked my blogs over for grammar errors and many other chores that showed me that she hadn’t fully signed her mind over to dementia.

SUE AND LIBBY

She loved going for drives. So did Buster and I. We’d often go to North Sydney where we had a routine. I’d go into Walmart and Sue would walk Buster around the whole mall. When I’d walk out of Walmart I’d often see Sue and Buster waiting for me or they would be sitting in the truck. We’d then go to Tim Hortons. She’d use the washroom and then would take Buster for a walk while I went in to buy us Iced Caps. I’d come out holding our drinks and she would often be talking to folks who were sitting at the picnic tables.

SUE, JENNIFER & BUSTER

It gave me much joy to see Sue happy in the now. Walking her dog. Walking tall and straight and proud and joyfully. Her mostly unlined face shining with happiness.

LOVED WALKING HER DOG. I LOVED WATCHING HER WALK THE DOG

And so, I went backwards and forwards and sideways to allow her to keep her sense of dignity and to live a joyful life in the present.

FACE IN TREE

Some people may question this, but I saw her the morning after she’d disappeared. It wasn’t an hallucination. At first I thought I was looking at a hunter or a searcher. The figure was walking along the tree line. It then disappeared by the trail-head. The trail where the searcher found her glove. I remember the figure stopping and looking at me. That’s when I realized I was looking at Sue. No tracks in the fresh snow, but it was Sue. Her final good-bye. So amazing that she would leave me with this powerful memory.

SUE AND DOMINIC

Although I believe that the last while, what with my truck hitting a deer, the huge flood, having to evacuate our trailer because of the flood, her fearful emotions at seeing the bridge near our place having been destroyed by the river and our landscape changed by the flood waters which roared over our property, I’m pretty sure that the sad loss of Buster was the main event that changed the course of our lives.

BRIDGE THAT RIVER DESTROYED

When Buster died from bone cancer, myself and others thought it was essential that we get another dog. That way Sue would have a dog to walk and the dog would be company when I was away from home. So, our friends and I searched all over to find a suitable dog. Not easy.

I MISS BUSTER TOO

We found one, but maybe it would have been better if I’d picked a smaller one. Dominic, although only twenty pounds and ten pounds lighter than Buster, is young and strong and not always easy to manage and he is a passionate car and truck chaser.

BUT HE'S SO CUTE

DOMINIC ENJOYING FALL COLOURS

Also, Dominic immediately bonded to me. That was a problem.

Anyway, I believe that it’s possible that Dominic pulled Sue onto a lane that goes into the mountains and then later on he broke his leash. All sad water under a fading mystical bridge.

SUE IN BLUE HAT

So, presently, I live with the fear, sorrow, guilt and claustrophobia that comes with grieving. The loss of purpose and routine. Not having Sue to talk with. Not having Sue to help as we both fought her dementia battle. Not having Sue and Dominic to go for drives with. Not having Sue trying to subdue my uncontrollable hair.

FROM ON HIGH

However, I know she is still in my life, but in a different way.

As a friend said, “Over time, she will become tender in your heart.”

I often feel her presence and know that she wishes me, her family and her friends well.

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It's Pouring Down Blog Material

28/11/2021

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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.