I have written and inferred that things are slow and verging on routine, mundane and all-too-ordinary right now. No adventures! Chores are the highlights. And that is true. But, remember, chores and routines in paradise aren’t all that bad. I was thinking about what we have been up to since the last post. We have still been busy.
We dismantled and recycled the wood from our big marine cradle, the one we used to store a ‘spare’ boat on (I will then use some of that wood to improve our marine ways down at the lagoon). We ordered and received (and carried) a bunch more wood soon to be employed in the construction of a small storage shed up by the house. And we hauled it all up the hill on the highline.
My Wacker miracle genset conked out on another chore and I spent hours on it and fixed it. Then, carrying it back to put it in place, it fell over, the oil ran into the top of the cylinders and I had to ‘go at it again’. A couple more hours, a thousand pulls and it all started up again. One step forward, two steps back. All on irregular ground.
And we worked the garden, of course – tis the season. And the water system that had been working like a charm quit on us and so Sal-the-intrepid-creek-climber went up the creek to fix it. And then she conducted further investigation along the entire line when it still did not run – but, after a bit of sleuthing, she found the errant valve and that is now all back in order. Plus she snagged a log and pulled it in.
Of course, community work continues, too. Sal worked the post office, did yoga, distributed the food and still had time for a few ZOOM meetings on other projects (like gathering/recording stories from the old residents). We run the home care program, too. And I picked up the doctor for his monthly visit. I had a few ZOOMs, as well. Helped a neighbour or two. Putzed about in the workshop. Still seem to ‘consult’ a lot.
Spent the odd ten-minutes now and again staring at the empty blog screen.
Socializing is not back on but there is some. Those vaccinated and isolated and masked come by. We go to others. One friend brought us a fish. People gather – a bit. It is reduced but it is feeling OK.
We drove the island the other day in our new-to-the-island vehicle. That was kinda fun but the old AWD is a bit low to the ground so I will be jacking it up an inch or two. There’s a new challenge.
The Commercial prawn season came and went in a week. Good ol’ DFO opens up an area for ‘fishing’ based, theoretically, on healthy early sampling. But, of course, the sampling is contracted out to prawn fishers so the reports may be a smidge suspect. Still, the real proof is in the presence or absence of the commercial boats once the season opens. If they stay, they are catching….if they leave, they are not. They stayed a week. They moved around. They left. Conclusion, DFO has managed the prawn fishery here as well as ever. ‘Fish ’em til they are gone or so bloody reduced in number, the area is no longer producing.’ Man, they got some kind of geniuses in DFO, don’t they?
So far, summer boat traffic is greatly reduced. It is still only mid-May but typically the first week in May is the beginning of the tourist season. It was NOT last year and, even tho it is likely to be busier in 2021, I suspect that this will be another ‘down’ year. I am OK with that.
We had fewer whales last year. We have had none so far this year. All that may be an indication of further climate change. Or maybe not. Hard to say but, another indicator is the Arbutus tree. Seems they are dying rather alarmingly in the southern Gulf and, to be fair, ours don’t look all that robust either. Fewer Hummingbirds for us, too. Fewer urchins, fewer prawns, fewer, fewer, fewer…..
The other shoe? I dunno….I mentioned last post that I ‘felt’ that there was another shoe to drop and listing the examples of ‘fewer’ suggests that it may just be those observations leading me to feel that way. Fecundity, fertility, reproduction, growth……I guess I am seeing a bit less evidence of all that and thus the gut-feel…….but it doesn’t make it so…….
These are clearly not the heady days of scootering Thailand, writing novels or doing big projects. I am not getting run over by boats, chicken-busing El Salvador or otherwise hurting myself either. No blood being spilled. Nothing broken or damaged requiring medical attention.
This is good. This is very good. Dear diary; ‘I am happy’.