Saturday morning saw a pretty hefty downpour and it was just what I’ve been waiting for. I’m glad to report that with minor exceptions the rain water followed the path to exit the park with remarkable uniformity. Oh, there are a couple places where there are low spots but nothing like we saw before repaving, and no mud now! Hooray.
On other fronts, night number two on our own bed and we both slept much better. I’m glad we gave up on the wait for old furniture and remedied the need locally. I might wish that UPS didn’t always seem to put our packages on the end of the route — the mattress (to raise the bed slightly higher) was on the vehicle at 6:47 a.m. — but delivered to us at 7:50 p.m. — sigh. It’s miraculous they can move things long distance as well as they can but annoying that the last few miles can be such a pain. Still — I’m happy to be finished with that project.
At the end of week two of the new Presidency my only comment is that the week’s missteps remind us all how important it is to have people around you who will press all sides of an issue. Public policy can’t ignore the public and people in power are far enough removed from the people that they need good advisors and need to listen to them.
I’m coming to appreciate the benefit of having a carport. We’ve never lived with a carport before. The idea of exiting the front door into the rain/snow/sleet has always just been the natural thing. Even when we had a garage there was no place to be outside without having precipitation falling on one’s pate. Yesterday during a short but blustery sprinkle the reality of being able to stand outside without getting wet struck like lightning!
I have been sitting outside underneath the carport more often lately. The wind seems tempered under there. And in the shade it’s a lovely place to catch up on my reading and be interrupted by residents getting in their laps or whatever. It’s not something I’ve ever done much — we’ve never lived in a place with a real “porch” even though Peggy loves porches.
The other day we were chatting with our across-the-street-neighbors, a lovely couple from Ontario. In sharing travel stories we found out that we have something in common. (well, several things, but this was of special interest)
In the 70’s Peg & I took a vacation north into Northern Ontario, not along Canada 17 which skirts the US border but on Canada 11 — which traverses the country much further north. From the town/city of Cochrane ON there is a rail line that cuts across the wilderness and tundra north to the small community of Moosonee.
At that time the railroad was doing excursions — with upwards of 3,000 visitors a day taking the trip to a tiny town inhabited mostly by First Nation peoples (of the Cree nation) but also of some historic value. Today the excursions have ended, the train still runs, but only services the resident population. And, as it turns out, at the time we were taking that trip it’s pretty likely that our neighbor would have been on the train crew working that line. Funny, how small the world can be.
Moosonee is at the Southern end of James Bay, which itself is on the Southern end of Hudson Bay. There is a small community called Moose Factory on a nearby island. The thing that stuck in my memory was the small church we found there which had survived numerous spring floods by having holes drilled in the floorboards so that when the floods came they could let water into the church to prevent it being swept away.
You can tell that Katy was just a little tyke and we traveled all over the place with her. A few months earlier we had her — at 6 weeks — in NYC.
When you happen upon coincidences like that it amazes me how small this world can be.
Thanks for stopping. Check in again tomorrow to see that’s up!
In closing I’ve been struck lately by how many of our social causes seem to be stuck somewhere short of realization. And I just wonder how do we get as humans from the point where people affected by an injustice can and do change the minds of those who are unaffected. ’Tis a puzzlement to be sure.