Barge came yesterday but it came late because the fuel delivery at the terminal was slow. Coming late means it missed high tide. Missing high tide means that the load had to be dumped on the beach and dumping the load on the beach means that Sal and I had to schlep the materials up the beach, up the ramp and onto the deck and then onto the funicular. Before the tide comes up.
An easy job made hard by a minor late delivery.
Actually, it wasn’t that hard. In fact, we did it sensibly for once and did it slowly taking a tea break in the middle of it all. Sal remarked, “The trouble with taking a break is that I don’t think I can get back up and start the second half.”
So, we didn’t.
We’ll finish the second half of schlepping today. Maybe. It may not be efficient but it is the pace that we can manage. But we felt a bit guilty about it. “We should be better. I seem to be feeling less than energetic these days.” Coming from the mini Candu Reactor that is my wife, that is an incredible admission. I, personally, have no such delusions. If she is Candu, I am Fukushima.
I should be de-commissioned.
Having said that, we had a delightful encounter with some nice new people the other day – some city folks. Not as old as us (ten years younger) but, in many ways much, much older. Decrepit comes to mind. They already are decommissioned! They couldn’t walk the ground without difficulty. They couldn’t lift themselves up unless it was by way of stairs with a handrail. And they couldn’t carry anything while moving about. The women wore insensible shoes covered in sparkly rhinestones and one of them carried a small dog (which they handed to me when they had to move). They waved dismissively in the direction of their car in response to the question ‘Do you need help with your groceries?’
They were very nice but they wouldn’t have lasted a week here if they had to take care of themselves in any kind of non-kitchen-based way. I sound judgmental and I apologize for that. I am not. Not really. Not of them. They are simply paying a price for convenience and living a modern lifestyle. It might be too high a price when you think about it.
I confess that I didn’t think about it until around the time we moved.
In contrast, we had the barge fellows deliver fuel and the aforementioned building supplies. They did it because we are still too soft and lazy to carry 35 sheets of plywood and a pallet of lumber over by our own means (small boat).
Yes, remnants of a modern lifestyle mindset. Old bodies, old habits.
Even tho they had a Hiab arm to ‘sling’ the loads, the fellows had to navigate the irregular beach surface and drag heavy fuel hoses up craggy terrain. One of the crew, ‘M’, is my age. The guy is as nimble as a goat and as strong as an ox. His balance is exceptional. He doesn’t have the figure for Cirque’ de Soleil and his white beard would be a shock for the audience but, other than that, he could put on quite a show.
Dave, what’s the point?
Living out here keeps you fit. I may be somewhat the exception to that basic rule but even I am more fit than many of my contemporaries in the city. I am definitely more fit than I would have been had I stayed in the cul-de-sac. Fitness is somewhat forced upon you out here. You can’t avoid it. Trust me. I try.
Probably the most significant influence on the human body out here is irregular ground. No two steps are the same pattern as the two previous or the two pending. Walking is a non-rhythmic dance without repetition. It is work. Add some weight to the job like lumber carrying or even a heavy tool and it becomes hard work. And that is every day.
We have sixty-six stairs from the front door to the beach and we often cover that distance several times a day sometimes carrying as much as 50 pounds. It is like a football training exercise.
It’s weird tho, Sal just gets stronger. And I still manage to gain weight!?