In spite of rain
The plight of the fickle tourist can be summarized: What to do when it rains?
I accept the need for balance in the universe. Hot and cold; wet and dry. Without precipitation, the Green Island becomes the Red Island, replete with dust and a lack of shade. But, when your time is counted, measured, paid for by the minute, there’s a little voice that whines. Why can’t it rain at night, instead of during prime beach season.
That wasn’t our condition. We needed to eat, and so we took over tables (plural) at Smitty’s, and put a dent in the local production of eggs and processed meats. Lots of coffee. A chance to be inside, out of the…
After our tabs had been settled, we held a mini-conference in the parking area, and then the convoy of three vehicles set off for the eastern limits of the known world. The lighthouse. Badly in need of paint, now that DFO has decided to delist everything that doesn’t come with a revenue stream. There’s an injustice, when the sentinels of our shores are allowed to decay while we (the government without a mandate) continues to fritter money on useless photo ops and fancier aircraft .
I gave a quick tour of THE property (just down the road) and then we spent some quality time in the mall in Souris, where one goes, not to buy, but to visit with old friends and catch up on the social schedule. With that done, we were good to go. Back to the cottages, for a very late pasta dinner and some time watching the fireworks from across the way. Warmed by a woodstove, because you have to take the damp off a summer evening when it rains.
