Mastery of the lesson
Isn’t it ironic, that just as the campfire season draws to a close, we have some proper firewood? We received a gift (from people bound for a warmer section of the continent) of a half dozen proper log sections. The kind that will require splitting, once I find something that acts like an axe. No, I don’t intend to get all lumberjack and go off to the hardware store seeking a lethal weapon; there’s a dull hatchet in the garage, and that’s dangerous enough. Learning to sharpen steel is on my “to do list”.
There’s travel on the fridge list, so I made quick run to the market before supper. Milk. Eggs. Enough other stuff that the dog and I wouldn’t die from the self-inflicted famine. He likes kibble. I’m “fussier”. Blame my parents, or something. Meanwhile, I managed to squeeze in another BBQ meal this evening, although the tank is starting to feel light. It sits on a spring contraption, and when the tank is full, nothing moves around. Now, of course, we’re at the end of the season (see my firewood reference). I don’t intend to try grilling over an open fire pit, on basic principles.
The province has a new minister of education, following the sudden (unannounced) departure of the last one. This time around, a kid; the same one that I met during the proportional representation meeting a couple of years back. His first portfolio, and since his wife is a teacher, he’s convinced that he’s mastered the lesson before class even starts.
