A speculative air
We did it. The parents left the youngest to his own devices for a whole day while we played tourist. I admit, the choice was his, and he scored a laptop to design games while awaiting our return. Still, not something we’ve done before…
We decided to follow the new “starfish on a gold, white and blue background” signs, to see where it would go. GPS in support role, we visited new corners such as Sally’s Beach park, the Inn at Spry Point and the back roads around Launching. The Inn was impressive, but I wonder where the Ark is now. The run at Cardigan was in full flow, and the lunch in mid-afternoon at Wendy’s was well air-conditioned. The train station in Montague had some lovely quilts for sale; time to learn the sewing machine thing, to see if I have an artistic fortune ahead of me.
The dreams of sudden riches are everywhere this year. The realtors have purchased a boatload of waterfront property stickers, and I had the feeling that every second home in Montague could be mine for the right price. Where are all those people going to move if a rich American decides to indulge in the manifest destiny of the chequebook. Will there be refugee camps established, under UN control. to care for the displaced? I’m only worried to the point that prices are spiraling out of control in the new speculative air.
The road home was more direct, with the exception of a detour around Dingwell’s Mills that goes along a wide paved road with no electrical wires. Rare. We decided to cook another real supper, given that the winds were down. I’m still surprised at how a breeze uses all that expensive propane energy for its own needs, leaving the hapless camper with a warmer rather than a cooker.
It took a long time for the moon to rise, so the campfire was started by flashlight, while our neighbours held a noisy discussion about the merits of various martial arts. I opted to read by battery, something I’d not done for a long time.
