God is in the details

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Got up early to catch the first breakfast shift at the heritage house B&B we were staying at for day or so while down in Victoria.  Shared a table with a couple from North Carolina, Mary and Chester.  “We have learned that you folks don’t stop for rain, that’s for sure!  People just keep goin’ about their business as usual.”

“What does your average Bubba do when it rains in the Carolina’s?”

“Oh, we-all stay in.  No sense gettin’ wet.  We still go to work and all, but most other things wait til it’s over.  No sense walkin’ around in it or anything.”

They were very pleasant.  Invited us to look ’em up when we get down that way. Black-eyed peas, greens, ribs and cornbread promised. Some of our best adventures have been started on less.

Then up to Costco and the shopping-from-hell exercise that we do twice a year or so.  Car loaded.  And missing.  I am being plagued by the mass-air-flow sensor again.  The major error was in writing a blog about having fixed it.  What a fool!  The only solution now is in selling the car. I exposed hubris to the car-gods in that blog.  They don’t like that.  Golf gods are like that, too.  So are all feminine gods but I tempt fate now perhaps too foolishly by even saying that.  Apologies to all things feminine.

No, really!

Stopped at Spikes auto wreckers on the Malahat for a used sensor.  Spike is like most auto-wreckers; big, mean, dirty, all-business, all-rip-off, all-the-time.  Still, much cheaper than the original manufacturer, he has a legitimate scavenger’s place in the giant scheme of things.  While he turned his back to get my receipt I noticed his window was decorated with Christmas cards. “Say, Spike, do all you wrecker guys send Christmas cards to each other like the ones I see on the window?”  (Happy Holidays from Prince George Auto Wreckers!)

“Sure do.  Every year.  At Christmas.”  And then he added a big smile like he was one of Santa’s little helpers.

The cards.  The observation of Christmas coming every year and Spike’s big smile just appealed to me.  I left laughing.  Spike returned to being, well, Spike.  It was not one of those ‘you had to be there‘ moments because no one has to be there.  But, if you had, you would have laughed.

Sal didn’t get it either.

We drove like hell.  Not because we drove quickly but because the engine sputtered and died for nano-seconds the whole way.  I needed to get close to home to put in the part. But we made the city in time for the last load of perishables and then caught the ferry to the neighbouring island where our boat lay waiting patiently after being left there for us by our (awesome) neighbours.  It was getting dark.  A lot of heavy lifting later, we were bumbling along in the fading light to our our shore for the last and hardest leg of the journey.  Hauling everything up the rocks and ramp.  An hour or so later, we were in the house, with the fire starting to take the chill off.  We had been gone only five days but it felt terminal.  It was a voyage worthy of Sinbad.  Only without much of the sin.

It’s just a phase.  I am getting less inclined to travel these days.

Could be all the terrorists, or the people intending to catch them, but I think it is more that I prefer my own bed.  In fact, I prefer my own everything!  Even MY own cup of tea is better than everyone else’s tea. You know the empire is dead and gone when you can’t get a decent cup of tea anywhere!  Yeah….you can quote me!

Bloody ‘ell!

Gawd, it is good to be home.  GAWD, it is GOOD to be HOME!  GAWD, IT IS GOOD TO BE HOME!!!

 

13 thoughts on “God is in the details”

    • Thank you. Nice to BE back. Still mulling the muses, writing directions, plots, topics and such. May go eclectic for awhile….a little of everything. Waddya think? Sex, religion, politics, ravens, motorcycles, whales, life, death, taxes….

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  4. I have to tell someone! The moose steaks were delicious, but that was the wrong tack to take (Naughtically speaking). Honesty pays. I’m wooing a Sal (not her real name)

    SEX!! The moose steaks are gone! The cleaning lady is gone! I’ve got a LADYFRIEND. And once we get over one another I’m going to show her how to clean house. Maybe; in a month or so. What a marvellous way to start a New Year!
    Happy New Year to all!

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    • Geez, I hope that doesn’t mean you were having sex with moose steaks……still…….any porthole in a storm, I guess.
      Wow! A real-life, non-moose, lady friend? Gawd Almighty! Alahu Ahkbar! Is she sane? Is she legally a Canadian? Does she have all her marbles (sorry, that is raising the bar way too high)?
      JA, I am ecstatic for you (and gob-smacked). If women went for those with the best sense of humour, you would be a harem keeper but, sadly, good manners, clean clothes and a fat wallet seem to rate higher on their radar these days, it seems.
      NOT REAL women, of course. Real women want humour, adventure and a nearby large forest or workshop in which to lose you now and then.
      Hmmmmm………is she blind? If so, there is NOTHING wrong with that. Might even be for the best in the long run.
      You gotta send a pic. Nude is OK. Of HER, John, H-E-R.

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      • You of little faith! Of course she’s real. We’ve got the large forest AND a workshop. SHE thinks I’m funny (unless she’s laughing AT me) and adventure? On the second date I challenged her to run around the house, in two feet of snow, NAKED, and she did. Too fast to get a picture, mind you.

        At least, I think she did. I haven’t seen her since. Seriously, I too am gobsmacked. Don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner!
        Have a Hugely Happy New Year! I will!

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        • I am glad, too. And Sal breathed a quiet sigh of relief as well. She was starting to look over her shoulder. “Who is this guy, again?”
          Next nude circumnavigation of the house MUST be on video! She can leave her hat on.
          “DUMB!?”. Cooperating candidates dumb!? And I am being accused of having little faith? All I can think, John, is that you must have bumped your head in the nudey romp and need a little time to either get back on the romp or mull the idea over a bit. Either way, you are forgiven.

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