South to seek a salary
The fervents of winter can rejoice; we have new snow on the ground. Not enough to impede the mails (I hope), but I can now tell which path our foxy neighbours are employing on their way to somewhere else. The forecasters have been all over the map on this one, and the actual flurries didn’t begin until late afternoon. Well after the walking period, to the relief of some in the house.
I spent some time deep diving into the settlement patterns of northern Maine. That cross-border thing was very real, a century or so ago. One of my early residence neighbours carried a full set of “made in the Kamouraska highlands” genes, before his ancestors headed southward to follow the dream. Jobs.
I think this was a familiar thing. Canada, despite the best of intentions, didn’t have enough factory jobs to keep the kids at home. My grandparents (two of them) made it all the way to Boston. By train, I suppose. None were water walkers. Or sailors. I guess the evening express to Saint John and south would have served their travel intentions well. Must ask my mother.
I’m doing a quick load of laundry. Seems that my lack of attention to the juice on my supper plate caused a minor flood. I was watching Jeff Goldblum teaching about denim and BBQ, so the distraction was easy to explain/blame.
The day has passed quickly. No mail. No commerce. Just me wondering how to easily put my web radio back on line. It lost the feed to my amplifier, and I’m too lazy to move everything around seeking a solution.
