Barry’s Bay

July 17

Today we went in to Barry’s Bay and in short order ditched the empties and got more IPA, went to the bank, got Sandra into a newly cropped set of hairs, visited the two grocery stores in town plus the health food store, and saw Clem.  Clem has a fine homestead on 120 acres just south of town. There’s a dock and lake and geese who march up and down and eat all the bugs and a dog with his own sandpit, (he was completely recessed in it when I came out, imagine being a dog encouraged to have your own little sandy pit) and an enormous garden and quaintly rusticating farm machinery and cars and a bunkhouse overlooking the lake and two big old wooden barns and fields of wildflowers including milkweed which meant there were monarch butterflies to be seen flitting among the flowers.  It’s like somebody took two generations of rustic Canadiana and mashed them together; the whole place was a photo op, and me with just my memories and neither camera nor smartphone. The message on the wind told me to go there and once I got there the beauty of the place put me into a high state of aesthetic intemperance. I mean this is a guy who can throw a busted geranium stalk at a wall, and it blooms. Entirely amazing. I am glad that the message on the wind did that.  And when I got back the message on the wind said CALL YOUR MOTHER and I did and when she didn’t answer I fretted.  Yes, I did, such a sap I am. Because you should call your mother, and certainly not assume the worst when it’s a lovely day and they are journeying in their VEHICLE OH MY GOD THEY’VE BEEN IN A CAR ACCIDENT THAT IS WHY THEY ARE NOT really, Allegra, wait upon events.

Now it is Friday already.  I’m going to go play with George.  Ah, 610 words later  I scrubbed out Sandra’s tub (I got the impression it was the epitome of filth and I’ve taken baths in tubs that were FAR less clean) including the interesting purple marks, and once it’s a better time of day to have the hot water on I’m going to have a soak – it’s a massage jet tub and working much better poor lamb since the filter was put on the water system.  The water is good but a tad too much iron.

Still kvelling on the radishes Clem gave me yesterday.  He pulled two ordinary sized and four potato sized radishes out of his immense garden and I IMMEDIATELY took them home and cut them up with a) rather more salt that you’d think justified or necessary b) fresh ground black pepper c) enough pecans to make it interesting, two palmfuls say and d) drizzled all over with white balsamic vinegar.  I ate ALL of it in two sittings and nothing repeated because fresh radishes don’t repeat.  Also amid yesterday’s comestibles was the amazing beef liver and pineapple with onions and ginger. The beef liver was barely thawed and barely cooked, set aside, then the fresh cut pineapple was added to the reduction and then the onions and ginger were cooked in what was left over from that and then it was all added together.  The first bite had me sliding off my chair with my eyes rolling back in me head, ’twas of such surpassing excellence.  mOm, you would have been enchanted.  We ate it over noodles from the previous day’s linguine and beef tomato sauce.  Then we watched the Bobby Darin biopic, in which Kevin Spacey once more reveals himself to be an actor of such calibre that I can’t imagine there’s a role he couldn’t convincingly play.

Wrote a little ditty on the 17th – think I’ll go practice now.

Life is beautiful, for the guest…..

Earlier in the day I watched Sandra work.  Apart from being her driver, turning a few lights on and off, scrubbing the tub and pulling some weeds I have loafed and lazed with startling ease; I have neither touched a dish nor cooked a meal since I got here (I don’t count tea and toast).  It’s marvellous.  I wish the bedroom door closed all the way, but since Shadow isn’t in at night there’s no cat to come importuning and shedding half a campground of debris all over my bed at night. She was fresh off a catnip buzz when she came nuzzling this morning as we stood outside.  I performed a brief interpretive/vocative dance, addressing the spirits to send business Sandra’s way.  It’s glorious, and the campground is practically empty.  Sigh.  As soon as I finished my dance a car pulled in but it was somebody in the cabins. Sandy really could have had me going there….

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Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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