Points north and east

The sad news first.  Chipper and I are at the extremity of friendship where we may still have business but I’m too upset to talk to her or receive her calls.  I have brought my sadness to people who can understand it and since the internet is forever further comment would be unwise.

The weather was very nice for the trip.

Due to a communication difficulty – entirely my fault – I wasn’t one of the named drivers for the trip so Paul did all 1200 km of  the driving.

One of the days we were in Cornwall we drove up to Ottawa to see Tish and Terry’s daughter and their new grandson, Malcolm, who is tiny and adorable, but was in hospital due to his precipitous entry into the world a wee tad early. (He comes home today praise be.)  Paul and I kinda bent the rules about who is family since babby was in the equivalent of a NICU and I didn’t even ask to hold him but it was amazing to see such a tiny little mancub and I am so grateful he’s okay.

Then we had a picnic in Britannia Bay.  While we were there the wind was blowing perpendicular to the beach so we were treated to a scene of dozens of brilliant white sails, staying in the same place, but getting smaller.  A great illusion.

As always the food was amazing. Terry makes these cookies that are beyond wonderful. The food was very good in Madawaska too. Okay, I’m sad again.

Tish and Terry have a beautiful Brittany Spaniel named Butter, who is exceedingly well trained AND extremely boisterous and strong.  I spent a lot of time gazing into his green eyes (a colour I haven’t seen on a dog before) and gently pulling burrs out of his ears and coat.  I haven’t liked a dog this much in decades; he’s a wonderful addition to the household even if he can chew the floor. Yes, he chewed the floor in front of the back door.  And the stairs.  And a few other things.  He’s liver and white and quite the most elegant figure of a dog you can imagine.  His muzzle is narrower and his frame is more slender than other dogs of his breed you might see on the internet.

Yesterday Paul and I went to the gravesite of Simon Fraser, which, splendidly enough is walking distance from Tish and Terry’s (although we drove through the spun sugar that is a crisp and sunny fall day in Ontario to get there) and I found a remarkable headstone where two women from different families are on one stone.  I don’t know whether it was the frugality of their Catholic Scottish highland husbands, or their friendship, that made such a thing possible.  If I can get it off my phone I’ll post the picture (it’s on my facebook feed.)

A couple of days ago we were in Ottawa (no time to visit Leo and Linda although I publicly apologize for not calling them) to visit Deb, her dog Winnie, the most adorbs pitbull ever, and her spouse Jim.  Just as we were getting into a most riproaringly fine political discussion we had to leap in the car to get back to Cornwall for dinner.  DANG.

Large sections of the 138 have been paved so that it is a wonderful road now, so getting back and forth between Ottawa and Cornwall was a snap; the trip inbound to the airport was wonderful, and unlike many other parts of Canada, the signage made getting to the airport, barring that nasty little last minute left hand turn, was super easy, and despite the loads saying we weren’t getting on we did get on…. onto two broken seats.

My tray table wasn’t working and the audio jack on Paul’s seat wasn’t working.  What are contingent passengers good for??? sitting in seats that the paying customers would complain about.

The man sitting next to me sniffed all through the flight.  I was going to be mad at him when I realized he was suppressing tears and trying to read Robert Ludlum.  My nosiness fought with my compassion and in the end I left him alone rather than ask him if he was okay.  The woman sitting next to me was reading Coelho’s novel Adultery and talked to the flight attendant about her recently finalized divorce, which is a little on the nose, don’t you think?  Stunning woman, though, magnificent eyelashes.

I was so exhausted from travelling that over Paul’s objections I got a taxi.  I’m glad I did.

Unpacking, writing, playing Otto and helping Paul with his presentation on Sunday, and watching a LOT of tv on the pvr.  That’s my day.