Long and winding roads can disappear
Didn’t go to the hamfest today. Suffice to say, a plan is an invitation for change. By the time lunch ended, the change was engaged. We were off for an afternoon with extended family.
Only a couple of hours each way, but the road is long and winding. And the Beatles were wrong; the road can disappear (due to a mine) and the detour becomes the regular rocky road through Coleraine. Lots of motorcycles out. Lots of boats on the lake. After all, that bank building thermometer was bragging about the 30C. Wore my shades of summer and watched for leaping deer. One never knows.
The afternoon slid into evening, and we turned the rig around and headed home. Spotted people we hadn’t seen in a quarter of a century, and startled them with an impromptu reunion. Best way to do such things, don’t you think?
My little Walkman spent the evening pumping out tunes. On today’s playlist: Bruce Guthro, the Cranberries and Madison Violet. No theme inferred. Personal taste.
The others are watching an episode of Game Of Thrones. I’m caught on a virtual fence. Should I watch, or should I hold off until I’ve read the five novels and counting? If I see faces beforehand, will my ability to imagine be stifled? I can accept the British accents – fantasy is English by default.
Enough wondering. It’s getting late, and I mustn’t break my rhythm of sleep and wakefulness. No need for pretend jet lag at the end of the weekend.
