Almost felled by a tree
As a camper, I know the drill. When in doubt, do laundry. The ratio of campers to machines is high; if you meet the necessary conditions, just do it.
The conditions are simple enough. Lots of change. Soiled clothing. Suitable soap. Time to spare. An available washer and dryer combo. Put the last as first, after reflection. And so it was.
After all was folded, we left for Souris. Find lunch, play the tourist, etc. I took a pleasant enough photo of the harbour, only to spot the ferry arrive after the fact. Off schedule. Out of sequence. Turns out that there had been a medical emergency on board, and the ferry had turned around and ran for port, flank speed. Doesn’t happen often, like that.
The local area made the headlines, after a motorist hit a tree. A moving tree, neatly felled by a beaver onto the highway. Like something out of a rodent blockbuster. The occupants of the car weren’t injured, although their cargo box was a write off. The Mounties (another national symbol) report that the suspect beaver is still at large.
Over supper, methinks my coffee came into close contact with a pot of tea. Can’t depend on colour (or odour), in certain situations. I didn’t want to ask. Hard enough, when familiar foodstuffs like cheesecake seem to be something else altogether. I guess that not going to bed hungry should be enough.
And our picnic table cover almost escaped from protective custody. I’m sorry… Sometimes these things write themselves. I’m going to prepare for another windy evening.
