TubaOrNotTuba

Son #2 had his first day of school today. Well, of his new level of school. He’s a newbie in CEGEP, with high school safely behind him. Still, he got the clean clothes and Mom to drive him to school, just like his other first day twelve years ago… my map confused the issue, just like…

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The shampoo and hair product industry leaves me baffled. To watch the ads (where only beautiful women with long hair need apply), or read the print on the bottles (when there is nothing else around to read, not even six day old newspapers), one would believe that this was the elixir of the ages.

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Halifax has an interesting way of marking their routes. Incoming traffic is continually channeled in directions other than those one wants to go. The result is that a tourist is continually trying to decide which way to go next. In contrast, an outward bound traveller has routing signs every few hundred metres; the only way to get lost while leaving the city is to close your eyes. Hardly a recommended driving school technique.

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Camping trips that end with sunny weather are a blessing from Heaven. No packing of wet tents under sullen skies, while memories of the trip are slowly washed away. We were up while the dew was still heavy (meaning, before noon) to stuff the sleeping bags into their tiny sacks, deflate the air mattresses that have been slowly shrinking for better than two weeks, rolling tents and stowing them on the roof. Twice makes perfect, if the keys to the van are stowed on the roof at the same time. The bright yellow scars of the tenting ground will soon heal, because grass is a very strong weed.

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With another injection of available funds in the bottomless bank account (don’t we all wish), we made a vow to head to town and try something new for lunch. After a quick stop at the old French fort, where nary a cannon to be seen, we returned to the same shady parking spot up by the old YMCA. What were the odds of that one. The new (for us) Atlantic Tech Centre provided a comfort stop, Internet access for the youngest and a chance meeting with the Island’s only remaining AM radio station operator. In fact, that is not exactly true. He’ll be there to turn it all off and watch the towers fall gracefully, but he’s moved to greener pastures in the FM world. Hard to believe that CFCY will stop modulating!

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This may have been the best day we’ve seen, in terms of overall weather. The kind of day that actually saw me shed my shirt and wet my legs in the brine. Even the dog broke her resolution to avoid salt for the holidays. Then as the afternoon kept its warm and sunny character, a chance to sleep in the tent with all portals open to a light breeze. Bliss.

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Made an early run to Elliott’s store to return our late DVD of Narnia, which didn’t seem to bother anyone given the usual payment of late fees. Rent, penalty, all go to the same bottom line. Down in Souris, found two CTMA vessels about, as the Voyageur was loading the big trucks before the Madeleine received a new litter of tourists. We decided to have a proper meal at the Bluefin, but had to wait until the lunch (pre-boarding?) rush had passed. Talking to a pair of MacAdams in the mall, one home from China for another couple of days.

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This day started out with one of those unfortunate incidents which involved driving the van over a pair of eyeglasses. Thankfully, nobody was wearing them at the time, and on a personal note they weren’t mine. Anyhow. The decision about “should we go to Town” was arbitrarily taken out of our hands. We did enjoy a breakfast at the Sheltered Harbour Cafe in Fortune before goin’ down the road.

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Today, Southern Kings County is the destination of choice. With a jug of chocolate milk as nourishment, we headed down, all the way down, to Murray River. This is a place that I haven’t been to very many times. Just not on the road to where I might be going, let’s say. We found a rather tempting book store, run by a woman from Detroit who has eclectic tastes and a belief in alternate energy sources. Good place to visit again.

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An exotic start to the day, with a full-blown exhibition of martial arts in front of our campsite; our neighbour from Drummondville came equipped with an open mind and lots of extra padding. A proof that video games do distort the sense of reality was presented when son #3 donned his share of the gear, and used all those skills so honed on the Dreamcast or PS2 or GameCube or whatever the console of the season is called. A short time later, irrefutable proof that martial arts take years of practice to achieve that necessary immunity to pain. Amazing what a big toe can do, when bent in unexpected directions. Let’s hope limping is in vogue.

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