TubaOrNotTuba

This morning, my house key was returned. That marks the completion of our long project, downstairs, although such projects are never really complete, are they? But for the record, my afternoons of relative silence will return. No more saw sounds. No more power nailer sound. No more holding the doors while materials move from the loading dock to the worksite (my best way of explaining that the garage served to allow oversize materials to come in).

Rock music has given us some lyrics that are terrifying, if one takes the time to consider things. A good example is The End by The Doors. Not many fun images in there, thank you. And as I read the daily news, I can’t help going there.

Still trying to build my trip log. What I have determined is that place names don’t stick properly, when your travel plan is about the route rather than the destination. I can visualize most of our campgrounds, but trying to find any given site by its corporate name? Not so much. In fact, we’ve called up the big guns; getting out the old credit card statements. On line, of course. The financial world is well organized, and going back seven years is simply a game of patience. Oh, and deciphering the mysterious abbreviations used for long community names. We did know the state, usually, and with some careful triangulation I now have a trip log that is solid.

Thanks to an acquaintance living in Florida, I’ve finally seen a news story about the new “Madeleine boat”. I don’t read everything, although I should, because this story contains some actual news. The ship was sailed over from her previous home, and will now undergo the required certification trials before sailing past my window, next month. The predecessor is already out of service, and might be “broken” just down the road. I can’t see why, but the story fits in with local gossip.

Finally! A chance to test my search skills.

A relative is in the process of changing homes, and in the red hot market where the family is located, it’s a very rapid process. A couple of weeks is more than enough to put up a sign, mark it as sold and get into a new place (with the usual two month timespan to finish the paperwork. The brag page on social media gave me some useful clues. The realtor, the photo of the property lines, a travel time estimate: none, alone would be enough, but within minutes I had a streetview pic look up the driverway (longer than I would want to clear after a storm).

Heading into the weekend, with back-to-back heavy weather warnings. But, I don’t care. Here in the house, we’re about to mark an end to a long winter (and summer) of renovations. In fact, after I put the doorknobs back in place, I’m supposed to start shifting material/furniture from one space to another, to allow some photography. The better to record just how far we’ve come.

Awhile back (precisely 687 days, BC) we set off to see the world. Or a portion thereof. We did. Crossed the continent, twice. Learned that you don’t need to face down a gunning crazy at every corner. Learned to read road maps, again. A lot, in the two months less a bit that we were out there. Do we miss the excitement? Certainly. That’s why I decided it was time to actually create a trip log.

If it wasn’t for the ordinary, how could we ever recognize the extraordinary? I have days where finding something unique to mention is tough. Other than the date, I  mean.

By this time next week, the temperature today won’t matter, but I will make a record of it. We were at 13C (in the shade) at suppertime. The field next door is no longer under a uniform blanket of white. Nor is our own lawn. We’ll have to decide what flavours and colours will be featured in the vegetable beds. Soon.

Certain governments like to prove to the world that they learned little in school, particularly in science classes. In those jurisdictions where “opening up the economy” took precedence over public safety, the infection rates are rising. Almost as if having a third wave was a requirement. And while business owners insist on a return to normal, the rest of us might pay a heavy price. I’m willing to waait, until the vaccination system catches up with me. I just don’t want to get sick, first. But keep an eye on certain provinces, where the spring might be long and deadly.