Rain song
The song for today is an oldie: Here comes the rain again. There; a musical weather report.
To be fair, we had a beautiful summer forenoon. Sitting around the campground, chatting up the neighbours (who were all leaving, to make way for the next generation of friends you haven’t met yet). Commenting on a cool green trailer with a distinct military style. Turned out that it was U-Haul surplus, which is close enough. Trying to find new friends for dogs, by presenting hands that had got too close to a stranger. In real life, that doesn’t accomplish a thing. The dogs will flinch or fight according to their own priorities which are invisible to the common man.
With clean laundry packed away, we decided to go into Souris and eat. Campground coffee and cinnamon buns fail the Canada Food Guide balanced diet test (apparently). Today, a mediocre menu choice, but that was my own fault. Hot hamburger is the foundation of truckstop diners, and better restaurants tend to fail.
On a whim, I decided to track down an old friend using satellite imagery and a GPS. We found the house, not the man. And then the song kicked in…
The rain was a constant backdrop to the rest of the afternoon, varying in intensity. Given major travel plans for tomorrow, it was decided that we would make a test run to the ferry terminal. Over an hour down and over an hour back chews a major hole in the time block we had to kill.
Next up: Vinyl Tap on the radio.
