I can see, I say
Day is done. The sun is down and the rain is not here, yet. I have a belly full of potential heartburn, after a reckless meal of donair at the only “real fast food” in Souris. Oh, for the days of the Platter House.
We’re back to camping, after the soft life of unknown motels on the endless highway. The sea is just there, full scale and a protection from the outside world. The new tent is up, and the new mattresses have new pillows to assure new sleep.
Looks like the good weather has arrived. Hot weather, not the insipid stuff that passes as springtime in other places. And as an added benefit, I can see again.
My glasses have needed new lenses for months, and I ordered them, months ago. Took until today to get the job done, though. I added a pair of sunglasses, based on a criticism of my one-eyed strategy for dealing with too much light. Funny how I would never think of trying to take a picture through a badly scratched filter, but I accepted that my brain could work things out, after the anti-reflection coating started to chip away. Careless.
I’m supposed to pull myself away from here (the comfort of the car) to sit near a campfire. Smoke, but no mirrors, accompanied by all the bugs I can endure until a breeze comes up. It’s part of the charm of camping, I’m told.
Found the big rechargeable light that we rely upon in the car, gone to dark after two weeks of illuminating the bottom of the luggage pile. Tonight we’ll play touchie-feelie to get settled in.
