………..but I have to.  I have a greenhouse to finish.  And lamenting gross stupidity on a massive scale is pointless; that’s how history has played out for eons.  One stupid mass-think mistake after another.  Hell, even a number of our great inventions were accidents……

Face it: stupidity is in our DNA.  It’s why we have the Darwin Awards, the Kardashians and backwards-facing ball caps – natures way of saying, “Watch out! Stupid coming through.”

So, in the spirit of joining what you can’t defeat, I offer the following little pictorial. It’s about putting a small vehicle on an island that has no fueling facilities, no professional mechanics, no real purpose and nowhere to actually go…….

Having said that……………..Sal and I have driven it at least five times………doing just that….nothing much……just looking around……we’re gonna get some ball caps……

We may be just as stupid as the masses but, you know what they say, “….ignorance and a little turquoise truck is bliss.  Putting your hat on backward just adds to the fun.”

LI’L TURQUOISE TRUCK
Travels to the Island

Soon after meeting David, his new owner, Li’l TT is picking up lumber to take to his new island home. There he meets Dwayne, who is also a new island resident.

Then it’s off to the boat ramp where Captain Steve directs Li’l TT onto the barge to make the trip to his new island home

It’s an exciting ocean voyage for Li’l TT

Upon arrival at the island Li’l TT, with David’s help, backs off the barge onto the beach

Oops, Li’l TT is getting his feet wet – maybe island life isn’t so great

But a new friend comes to the rescue…

…and helps Li’l TT drive up the beach

Li’l TT is happy to head off with David at the wheel…

… and is very happy to have a quiet parking spot in the forest to call home                                                                                                                                                                   THE END

 

 

….but an apocalypse nevertheless.

We have all joked for years about the ‘coming zombie apocalypse’ not really believing in zombies but still feeling a frightening and palpable foreshadowing of impending apocalypse.  We were right.

That feeling – for millions of people – was multiplied exponentially last night. President Trump TOGETHER with a Republican Congress is a colossal disaster of near biblical proportions impatient to happen on anything and anybody they don’t like.  Today, the bullies and the bigots, the ignorant and cruel, the mean and ugly have won the right to impose their will on the rest of us, regardless of where you live.

“….won the right to impose their will?  On the rest of us?”

Yes.  Because we all use the US dollar still as the ‘monetary metric’ for the world’s economy and because the US has already used that power to influence and intimidate the world for decades.  That tool, together with the still mightiest armed force in the world is now at the disposal (appropriate word) of an unchecked president patently ignorant, bigoted and a petulant vicious bully.  Congress was the check and balance to that kind of person but it, too, went Republican.  And, to a degree, all Republicans (except a precious few) are that kind of person.

They worship at the feet of power and money.  Evangelically!

Remember: “America First” is not the rallying cry of the golden rule to do unto others as you would have done unto you.  America First means, “To Hell with the rest of you!”

The ‘bully-boy’, shoot-first-don’t-bother-asking-questions mentality of the cops in Ferguson Missouri has been promoted to the White House.  And the white-washing police departments country wide are now in the Congress.

What you gonna do, bad boy, bad boy, when they come for you?

In that sad analogy, the bad-boys run.  They run panicked left, right and into the dark.  The ones that don’t run, get shot.

Expect an exodus of democrats from the US.  Where to?  To anywhere but there.  I am not sure Canada is far away enough for many of them but we’ll get some people fleeing the nightmare.  If it was me, I would go to New Zealand…as far away as I could go.  In fact, the thought has already crossed my mind.  Middle-class Americans, poor Americans and everyone other than the 1% are all in for a rough, ugly ride.

I’ll tell you one thing:  Justin Trudeau better grow up fast.

UPDATE

Rarely does a politician say anything that moves me to anything but more anger, fear and loathing.  I don’t ‘hate ’em all’ but I dislike the majority and I believe power corrupts.  But enough about me…this is about Obama.

He spoke after Clinton’s concession speech and I had been too bummed out to listen but I just did.  And he took the high road.  He stood tall.  He said the right things.  He sounded sane and logical and fair and reasonable and, most of all, he was not as bummed out as I was.  I found some solace in what he said.  A lot, actually.

The world is in more danger, no question, but it has not happened yet.  The wheel is in the hands of the maniacal but they are still maniacally patriotic (which I interpret as still survival oriented).  “The sun will still rise in the morning”.

His speech, though not enough to settle my nerves, was enough to get me out of my despondency and go cut and plane door frames for the greenhouse.  Pricing flights to New Zealand is temporarily on hold.

If you haven’t listened to grace and eloquence under the weight of defeat, if you haven’t actually seen anything ‘presidential’ these past 16 months in anyone, you owe it to yourself to listen to probably the best president the modern United States ever had.       

There is precious little left to say about the US election.  It is time to wait and see, I guess.  Despite being a political ‘watcher’ I rarely guess an outcome right, anyway. But I’ll take a weak stab at it.  “The envelope, please……..”

It’s Clinton.  And , with that choice, you have almost a parody of democracy…Bush, Clinton, Bush, Obama, Clinton….or?  

It’s Trump.  And with that, you have made a mockery of the presidency, briefly glimpsed the abysmal ignorance that is the American public and launched a walking, talking embarrassment to the American Dream.

I have no real idea who will win, whether it will be close or whether there will be a backlash from the losing side or not.  In all likelihood (judging from the fact that the media seem to have chosen a side), Clinton will win, Trump will whine, complain and make a lot of excuses and accusations. And more than just a few nutcases will shoot guns at kids in schools and MacDonald’s restaurants but that will be it and life will go on in the usual crude, stupid and stumbling way – whatever that is.

Or will it?

And that is the real question facing us all today.  Will life go on?

Face it: the presidency is really all about what one single, largely weak, likely corrupt, ineffectual person might actually do (while needing the cooperation of thousands of others with which to do it) about stuff, much of which is out of anyone’s control.  It is not about who gets to ride in Air Force One, it is about ‘the system’ putting a single face on future decisions that, in obvious fact, are made by hundreds of thousands of others.  And often wrongly.

Regardless of who wins the presidency, the major issues facing the world as we know it (TWAWKI) remain and some are growing alarmingly worse.  Russia is posturing again. Positioning, too. China is flexing new military muscle to go with their economic abs.  Fanatical Islam is still blowing stuff up, killing people and ‘making statements’.

And, of course, we have the ultimate threat in climate change which, it seems, has – along with all else bad and human-caused – already eliminated 60% of the world’s animals just for starters. The ‘innocents’ always die early.  Seems we have less than half the wild things we had in the 70’s.

Trump building a wall?  Clinton empowering women?  Really?  You think those are the real issues?  Even racism, sexism, and all the other petty little isms pale into insignificance when threats of World War 3 loom and the planet shifts it’s state of being from healthy to sick.

Honestly?  Picking the US president is about as significant to solving what ails us as selecting the host of the Academy Awards.

Admittedly, if there was one single person more able to screw things up quicker and worse than would ordinarily happen, it is the president of Russia/USA/China. Those egocentric, power mad, delusional liars can do a lot of damage to a lot of people in a pretty short time.  Take your pick as to which one goes whacko first.

In effect, we choose the people most likely to kill us all.  

But, when half the world’s animals are dying off, do we attribute that loss to any single head of state?  When the climate goes wonky, is there someone to blame?

Really………… the question is what good can they do?  Answer: NONE.

With the possible exception of Jesus and Churchill, has any one person made such a hugely unique and significant GLOBAL contribution that clearly altered the course of world history for the better?  We have had a lot of small heroes to celebrate (MLK, Gandhi, even Terry Fox) but who is capable of reversing climate change?  Who can stop a war?

To my mind, the best president would be a dull custodian, an accountant, a boring middle manager-type who tries only to keep the trains running on time and corruption in check.  We need more dull people in charge of things.

Our politicians don’t LEAD anyway, they follow.  They let real leaders take the initial risk. When it is safely a trend, our politicians might make a limp endorsement.  They are always thirty years behind the times.   Example: look at today’s leaders talk positively NOW about solar panels, fer Gawd’s sake!

And they usually follow their own personal historical view (old person’s bias based on a personal fifty year old history spent in some kind of elitist environment surrounded by wealth) supported by sycophants who use reverse-looking analytics.

No one in Ottawa or London, Beijing or Moscow is looking forward except through to the next economic quarter.  They don’t act, they react. They are not inventors. They do not go bravely.  They are not visionaries.  They are just greedy accumulators, inventory managers, actors, poseurs and figure-heads ……..and they are usually sociopaths to boot – consulting other grey-haired power-seekers about what to do while striking just the right pose for the camera.

Seriously?  We pick the wrong people.

If you want to find a leader, you have look in any place that is NOT an institution or is part of the establishment.  Finding one at the top of a political party is a contradiction in terms.  You have to look to the fringes, the vanguards, the movements.  Real leaders have their feet ‘on the ground’.  There you will find two types of people- leaders and deviants.  Irony: neither the leader or the deviant really cares if they are followed or not.

Our greenhouse building years were waning.  Sally’s construction life had shifted to quilts. The window on two-by-projects was closing.  But, to me it was now or never. Sal chose never. I chose now.  So, the little greenhouse was conceived half unwanted. Unloved by Sal, it lacked nourishment, support and attention. So did I. The quilts thrived and multiplied.  We are infested with quilts.

Nature can be cruel.

It seemed as if the little greenhouse might not ever make it.  It was sad; one of life’s little tragedies…the little greenhouse-never-meant-to-be withering in the rain partially finished….it’s little bones exposed to the wind………….

Then I got Shingles, Sal started up quilting like John Henry took up steel-drivin’ and the waif that was our greenhouse-to-be was simply left to die.

And the greenhouse breathed new life…

And so, it is with great pride and a newfound love of glass houses that we introduce ‘greenhouse’ into our family.  Doors to be attached at a later date….

I am a HUGE proponent of living off the grid.  You know that.  (Mind you, I am trying to lose a bit of weight)…but regardless of my own personal BMI immensity, I will still be a vociferous supporter of weaning oneself from the corporate and institutional teats and tentacles that make up the real-life version of today’s MATRIX.

I’ll feel this way probably forever. The ‘way things are‘ just feels wrong to me.  And vulnerable-making.  The more I live free of all that crap, the stronger I feel about getting away even further from it. I am clearly a proselytizer. I am close to being a zealot. “Get out!  Get out NOW!”  is  my motto.

I am also a hypocrite.

We plan town days.  We still hate ’em……..but we plan ’em.  They are in our lives and feature prominently about twice a month lately.  I hate that.  Once every three months is OK.  That is just a ‘visit’.  Twice a month is way too much.  That’s being ‘integrated’.  Integrated is being ‘on the grid’.

I also covet a new Yamaha outboard (how crazy is that?).  And Sally is drawn to fabric shops like a moth.  We ARE still all-too-connected.  No sense pretending.

But I was somewhat comforted in that personal cognitive dissonance because of some article I read recently quoting Nick Rosen (author of several books about living off the grid).  He figures that the definition of living off the grid is in the mind of the doer.

His definition is pretty damn loose by any definition.  An urban home-owner who has solar panels with a grid-tie set-up qualifies.  If he/she drives a Prius or hybrid, they are really, well and truly ‘IN’.  ‘IN’, in this case, meaning OFF.

In fact, he even includes van-dwellers and full-time RV’ers.

I, personally, do not think that is ‘OFF’ enough but I agree with the point.  One does NOT have to be a hermit living in a cave in Alaska to claim OTG status.  One (like moi) is, in principle anyway, really just trying to ‘get away’ and get off the tread mill.

And that, really, is the point.  There is something about the rat-race, treadmill, system, establishment…whatever….that we all instinctively balk at.  In that sense, I am ordinary.  Mainstream.  Just a guy who is passively resisting the system….peacefully. From a distance.

But not tooooooo far………………

Well, not all people want out….but all who make any kind of effort do- including van and cave-dwellers – they are all saying, “I have had enough of this and I want out!”

Donald Trump is speaking those people.  And, by Rosen’s definition, that is a helluva lot of people.

In fact, Trump is kinda speaking to me!  I do NOT like the system he rails against.  I think it is corrupt and rotten at the top, too.  I want change!  And my definition of being OFF the grid INCLUDES feeling strongly about politics.  That’s ironic if NOT contradictory.  You’d think an OTG’er wouldn’t give a damn.  But I do.  Can’t help it.

I certainly don’t want the change Trump represents and that is the second point. Wanting CHANGE implies change for the better.  Sadly, the word change can also mean change for the worse.  Change is change in whichever direction it chooses to move.

I don’t like Trump’s direction.  Be careful what you wish for.  Or vote for.

In fact, I don’t like Just-in’s directions either (he is reneging on promises he made). Nor Christy Clark’s.  In fact, I don’t even like the official Opposition to them.  So, once again – the dissonance.  I don’t like what is.  I don’t like what ISN’T.  And I am only happy being far way from the bastards.

And then I go visit them every two weeks…………

Thank God for loose definitions.  And cognitive dissonance.

PS: I often ask Sal to read the blog before I publish it.  Then I ask her to tell me what I said.  She usually summarizes accurately.  It’s a good test.  Today, I asked her the same question.  She said, “Well, you said….. (then she stuttered for a few disconnected words and, finally)….I don’t know….you are a hypocrite?”    

Not my finest hour.  Not my finest hour and half, actually.  Everyone was talking and making nice.  Our MLA was there looking earnest. I just seethed.

She has been looking earnest and pleasant for twelve years now and counting. Content, too.  Maybe even a bit smug.  And, in my opinion, she has accomplished little to nothing that whole time.  In fact, in those twelve years she has been to our community meetings only twice.  This was the second time.

Why did she come?  Well……………..there is an election coming up…….

The meeting went on for awhile as the various and often magnificent volunteers told of their numerous accomplishments in the community in a style not unlike students do for the teacher in an elementary class.  It was good.  It was nice. Some mentioned needs and plans for the future.  It was all typical community meeting stuff.

I hate that stuff.

Could be me, I suppose.  

It was also noticeable to me that none of the work done was attributed – even in part -to funds given by our MLA or Provincial government.  Although the Regional district was acknowledged for their continuing good efforts.  They are good. We have a good rep there.

The Feds, of course, have been absent in so many ways and our loss of Comox Radio is turning out to be a problem.  But no one counts on the Feds for anything. And none of the plans or projects suggested were addressed to the MLA even tho a few of them were entirely within provincial jurisdiction.

Clearly we do not ‘see’ the senior governments as doing much for us.  We never said anything to her, asked her for anything or put our MLA on the spot. She diligently took notes which looked like work.  It wasn’t.  And we were nice

But I wasn’t.

I had had quite a few conversations over the years with our MLA (mostly written) and they were always overwhelmingly unsatisfying and limp.  Often not responded to.  She was like cold custard, like Congee. They leaked off into ether and time and forgotten-ness.  Not even left firmly in memory….somewhere else…almost dream-like. Talking/writing to her was like talking to a smiling automaton while being slowly but heavily sedated. Her hand shake is a dead-fish.  She said or wrote blah, blah, blah and I would respond and so on but nothing was ever done. It was horrible.  It is also typical.  Smile-pasted-on, deflecting, looking sincere and concerned, saying nice things………..I have had enough of that.

Mind you, I have had enough with all politicians lately.

I hate that, too.  I WANT some hope.  I NEED some hope. Sadly, I GOT NO hope! Not from them, that’s for sure.  (I actually DO HAVE hope – in the almost invisible, definitely subtle, quirky underground local economies working at the neighbourhood and village level all over the world.  People are quietly revolting to established politics.  But just at a nano-level.)

I even asked her once if she had any power and she assured me that she was influential in the party (NDP).  “Good.  Then make them do something.  Fix ’em.  You are the one our hopes are riding on because the Liberals are crooks.  Prove that you are better.  Get ‘er done!”  That conversation was eight years ago.  Nada.

Yes.  Of course, I offered to help.  If you are gonna make demands, you have to do your part.  She didn’t want or need my assistance.  Offered free of charge.  

In my last missive to her I asked if John Horgan even existed…… the party is a specter, a shadow, a mist of nothing and getting less and less all the time.  “If you are so influential, why have the NDP seemingly de-materialized?”

Anyway…………bottom line: I am NOT happy with any government (even those in other countries) and you can imagine how I felt about this impotent and enabling group of limp nincompoops of which she is an influential member.  Isn’t that an oxymoron? Being influential and having power in a limp dish-rag of a group?

When I am NOT happy I say what I think.

I told her out loud and addressing all in the room that in 12 years she had collected over $1.5M in salary and benefits (I know it is more but that is her take-home).  She would likely collect another million if she quit today and just kept collecting her pension.  Did she think she had done a good job? She replied ‘Yes, I have!’.  

By any measure, she has not.  Bear in mind that the Provincial government gives us absolutely nothing but the one-room school which they threaten to close most years.  Bear in mind, any monies they do or should give us are OUR taxes in the first place.  They are just there to collect, distribute and take their cut.

They ALWAYS do that.  They never miss a paycheque.  The government takes theirs and more.  The opposition party takes theirs.  She takes hers.  They don’t give us ours.

Much to my surprise, she was defended by some.  Only two or three meekly replied in kind with my sentiments but, by and large, she remained unmoved, unchallenged and unscathed by the citizens so poorly served by her and the rest of the ‘entitled elite’ in government.  They like her!

I am guessing my own polling numbers tanked.

Well, that’s ‘community’.  That’s the way it is.  We have some great people out here. We don’t always agree but we get along.  We don’t think alike and many don’t seem to think at all but we all tolerate everyone and even enjoy each other’s existence now and then.

I am, it seems, the politically odd man out of a group of completely odd men and women.   I have expectations of our reps.  They are just happy to see ’em.

I hope never to get that accepting of politics-as-usual.

But I guess I need to stay away. Being nice and polite to politicians could be contagious.  Community meetings………………..

….and slowly, ever so slowly, the greenhouse comes into being.  “In the beginning, uh rather, in the eventuality, Dave and Sally will probably finish the greenhouse….”

But it has taken us way more than six days.  In fact, unlike God, we work on the seventh day and rest for six.

So, we are still not done.  But at least, except for a bit of caulking on the SE facing windows, we are inside and can work out of the rain.  We are about to start on the shelf-tables upon which the plants will sit.  I am already imagining the bounty…..which hasn’t helped with the pace of getting it done but it does instill a bit of enthusiasm.

“Geez, Dave, ya gonna get ‘er done before winter sets in?”

Depends on Sal.  And I am happy to report that the above mentioned enthusiasm finally being manifested is coming from her.  And THAT is what I have been waiting for.

Of course, quilting and yoga and squirrels still take top priority but she is at least ready, willing and able to carry on now. Like all our projects, I dream them up, then I initiate things by buying supplies and making a mess and then I nap.  She resists the idea, balks at the purchases, drags her feet through stage one and then helps like forced labour until we are about 25% done.  Then her natural drive to accomplish things takes over and she shifts into gear and things start to REALLY get done.

That’s when you put on your safety gear.

The first obvious indication of the BIG shift is when she wakes me from my nap by snapping her fingers and saying, “Hey!  That greenhouse isn’t gonna build itself, ya know!”

The second indicator is when she goes to the work site before me (that marks the 25% done stage).

Third indicator is when she carries on when I get tired and return to napping.  It’s a beautiful system, really.

Small setback:  I was going to show you some pictures but they were already loaded into her computer and that broke when she saw a mouse, shrieked, leaped in the air and, flailing wildly, landed on her screen.

So………………not only are we close to getting a new greenhouse, Sal is probably closer to getting a new computer.

And you wonder what we do all day………….

Something’s up.  Over the last six weeks – as I read various news sources – I have read that tensions between Russia and the US are escalating and then the news thread kind of disappears.  Kim Kardashian appears every day.  Donald Trump appears anew hourly.  And, of course, I can read about Pit Bulls in Montreal and the latest boy-offends-girl news all the live-long-day.

But the Russia story line is interrupted.  One lone report…then a week of nothing….then another…..

Both Sal and I got curious enough to search wider afield and, even with that, we are finding it difficult to get much information.  It’s there.  But it is NOT easy to find.

Today, some Russian diplomat stated that tensions were the worst they have been in decades.  It is no longer a cold war revisited, it is imminent real war complete with nuclear missiles.  Seems we are at Defcon something………….

Russian missiles have been relocated to Poland.  All Russian VIPs have been recalled to the ‘Fatherland’.  The UK and the US have frozen Russian accounts.

And the report I just mentioned that appeared on my news feed just ten minutes ago, is no longer there.  Can’t find it.  It’s off the net.  Gone.

I was not so perturbed when the first story was published (that I noticed) maybe two months ago…maybe three…………but, as the stories kept coming, I noticed.  Then I noticed that they were also always interrupted as if, somehow, it was published in error or else the story line was no longer current.

But then it would pop up again but worse than previously.

Now this.  When a story is ‘up’ for only minutes and then you cannot find it again, something is up.

Book-club.  Sal took our guest who was visiting for the meeting to the other island’s dock when the day was over. As boat was coming in, she shifted to reverse and the boat slowed. She paused a bit to drift and then shifted to forward to nudge in. Nothing. Nada.

The engine was still running but the boat wasn’t moving.  Concern.  Confusion.  But they used the oar to pull themselves in the last couple of feet in to the dock and then do what all women do in a situation like that: Sal and her guest hug goodbye and then Sal helps her to carry her stuff up the hill.  Lots of good-natured chatting that the previous 24 hours (she stayed overnight with us) didn’t allow enough time for.  Lots of smiles, promises to write, reminders of other things and a few ‘be carefuls’.  More hugs.

There may have even been a few,  “Hey!  Look!  A squirrel!” s  but Sal is not admitting to anything.

But at least Sal cut that goodbye ritual relatively short, thank God.  “L is coming to the dock with more passengers, I have to go.  I may be able to catch a tow with her. Bye!”  

But, too late.  L had come, disgorged passengers and gone by the time Sal made it back from the upper parking lot.  One of the second group of passengers waited with Sal.  They called me.  I got Sal’s little skateboard of a boat and went over. They had a lovely chat during that time and I am sure some squirrels were admired as well.

Still chatting, tho, as I arrived.

But they had also determined the problem and, for reasons unknown, a prop that had been secured about six months ago and used every third day since, somehow managed to break the cotter pin, spin off the castellated nut and kiss the engine goodbye as it made a break for freedom in reverse turns. Down into Davey Jone’s locker.

We towed the boat home with the skateboard.

The nut is extra special in some way.  Stainless steel, of course.  Castellated of course.  22 mm.  Fine metric threading.  Different but not platinum, hand-carved or Russian-made out of spent uranium or anything.  $50.00.

For a nut!

The reader can interpret that last sentence as the cost of the NUT or  – just as valid interpretation to me  – the price paid BY the NUT.  Either way works for me.  As I paid for the nut with my credit card, I was stunned dumb.  I didn’t even ask why it was so expensive….I didn’t want to hear more stupid BS from yet another source.

There seems to be a virtual tsunami of BS rolling over all of us these days and, for a moment, my will to live was weakened and I simply could not muster even a protest.

We’ll fix it in due course (when the nut comes to the nut).  “So, how was bookclub? Fun?”  

“Oh yeah!  Really good.  About 18 people I think.  Even saw a squirrel!”  

Needed to pop into the hospital for some tests….hate that……go in healthy, come out sick….is the way I see it.  Or, worse, you don’t come out at all!  Hospitals are the shopping malls for bespoke diseases in my opinion.  But, anyway….storm warnings all day long. Everybody stay hunkered down!  Meetings cancelled, visitors stay home. The ferry runs 1/3 full.

But we have stuff to do!  First thing is that I may have sold my ‘parts’ bike, the 1976 Honda XL.  Secondly, the guy wanted to have a look at that damn clutch that isn’t working on the other bike….so, I reassembled them both and wheeled them across the deck to the upper funicular.  Carefully putting a 300 pound bike in a stepped, two-level cart perched high on a hill doesn’t always go well.  This time it did.  I should have waited for Sal but she was at quilting.  Got it down to the lower deck but simply could not get it off on my own.  So, then I waited.

Sal came back early and helped.  We half-lifted it down a ramp-from-the-cart and rolled it to the second lower cart.  I got the bike on to the cart, Sal went to get her boat.  I lowered the cart into the water and when Sal was alongside, wheeled it onto her little 11 foot skateboard.  The bike is almost 8 feet long.  Top heavy on that boat.

We propped it standing and off she went – looking between the rear spokes to see where she was going.  Seas flat, dead calm until some Trumpy went screaming right by her to get a look.  The boat rocked, the bike moved, the props fell out and so she used her strong left arm to keep it standing til the waves passed and then she replaced the prop.

I went ahead in my boat, got the truck, went to the beach, placed the back luggage carrier into the tow-hitch and got ready for her arrival.  She came in too fast, hit a rock, the boat rocked hard, the prop fell out, the bike began to fall.  Sal threw herself between the bike and the edge of the boat and was pinned – half in, half-out.  Inches from the water. One leg soaked. One leg pinned.  Bike was good.

We eventually got her sorted and the bike off the boat and onto the beach.  Then we pushed it up to the car and mounted it onto the carrier.  That was hard.  Then we drove it up the hill with the car and off-loaded it and into the trailer we have at the top.

Then we went back for bike #2.  Repeat.

By the time we were done, it had taken hours and we were tired so we went home and, the next day, left for the city (Campbell River).  First we attached the trailer to the Pathfinder.  Then we drove down the logging road.  Damn logging trucks needed passing.  Sometimes that can get dicey.  But we got there, found the guy and unloaded the bikes.  Then we went about doing our other chores.  Another town day so soon on the heels of the last one usually makes it a light trip but we got the truck loaded somehow.  Stayed at a B&B that night.

Next day.  Tests.  Everyone in the hospital talking about the BIG storm coming.  So, we decided to cut this trip short and make a bee-line home.  Maybe beat the worst of it.  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, sweetie, I bought an old treadle sewing machine.  We gotta pick it up on our way home.”

And, so we did that.

Now we are packed.  Plywood on the roof, machine on the carrier and the interior stuffed full of crap.

Got back to the boat.  Sky was like lead.  Air was even heavy.  Waters calm, tho. Felt like impending doom.  Got home.  Unloaded everything in five minutes onto the BRILLIANT lower funicular and went to tie the boat up.  Then we did our re-stocking of the home with the new crap jammed onto the old crap and we now have enough crap to keep busy til the end of time.

“So, what exactly do you DO all day all alone out there, anyway?”  

“Nothing much.  At our age, things can get a little dangerous.  Gardening mostly.  You know… and Netflix, reading, turning the compost…..couple glasses of wine.  That kind of thing.”

“Sounds nice, but I would be bored.  I need the city.  It’s the excitement, ya know?  Starbucks and all?”