New homes and pot luck
Pardon me if the typing starts to stutter. I’m under attack from a voracious horde of bloodthirsty skeeters, and I might have to stop and swat. The weather has been classic summer all day long; a rumour of 1400 cars at the Basin (is that even possible?) A meal outside without a need to sponge out the dish between swallows.
After our communal hour this morning, we stopped in to visit a couple with a new home. Not exactly acquaintances; we had camped in close proximity some years ago, but why quibble over details. We introduced ourselves and asked about their house. We were welcomed into the family and given the family style tour of the premises, from garage to deck (through both sets of doors).
Let me explain. This is a new home, built by a local contractor, on a piece of land similar to our own, with a similar budget. Why shop beyond our means. Based on what we saw today, our dream is within reach.
Of course, you can’t talk construction techniques for more than a couple of hours, so we made a convoy to the Blueberry Icecream social, one village over. A chance to ride the “speeder” in the “wye”. And it was as much fun as I hoped. For $2.50 , he ride took us over what is certainly the last remaining trackage on the Island, complete with three switch points and some sleepers that qualify as original equipment.
And I did pot luck for supper. We had made a flying run to Souris for fresh fruits which combined into a salad for the assembled multitude. Much better offering than the can of soup and half package of Fig Newtons that we had in stock.
