Rain again this morning and all day according to the
radar. Amazing technology that’s far
more reliable than the instincts of sailors that we used to rely on. The old salts were good at reading the sky—“Red
sky at night sailor’s delight, Red sky in the morning sailor’s warning.” was
almost always accurate, but limited.
There’s nothing like having a real time image of that the weather is
doing to base decisions on.
Had a look at the long term satellite image as well this
morning, and looks like we’re in for an early version of a heavy fall
system. Not much fun being on the boat
in these conditions; cold, damp, and
damn difficult to keep a pot on the stove when the swells are constant and large. May be time to move into the cabin for the
winter, although hate to do that before I have to. Sort of like my attitude to shorts: I put them on once the days are warm enough
and the nights not too cold. And having
made the switch, I refuse to retreat to long pants even in the face of late
spring storms that drive both the temperature and the barometer down. It’s the same with the spring and fall
moves. Dragging all my essentials from
the boat to cabin in the fall or cabin to boat in the spring is an irreversible
process.
Today was ad day.
Began the morning at the Bean Down with a large meaty breakfast and the
usual serving of gossip. Was particularly
interested to see if anyone would say something about the business with Mrs.
Snow and Jason. No mention of that, but word
had gotten round about Jason’s car being up at the Snow house at the end of
last week, and there were some snide comments about “God Damned time he showed
up to visit his mother.”
Naturally, I kept my mouth shut about my conversation with
Bertie. She wouldn’t have wanted me to
say anything, and besides, nothing had really happened yet. It was all hypothetical at this point. I sure hope it stays that way. Would be a shame to see the town overrun by even more tourists. Have to admit that it would be good for some
people, especially the young, to have employment options other than the
mill Guess the construction jobs would
be a boon to lots of residents; lots of hours and good money. But I’ll bet the resort jobs, if that’s what
they end up building, won’t pay squat.
Minimum wage, seasonal work changing sheets and carrying luggage will be
most of it.
However, nothing about that here this morning. Besides, Bertie would never let anyone, even
her own son, change this community that way.
Main topic of conversation at the Bean Down this morning was
Evolene. Seems she’s been making the
rounds of all the social hot spots in town—The Bean in the mornings, The Last
Dance of an evening or two, The Coop on Fridays, and she’s even taken the commuter
ferry a couple of times just to experience it.
The locals have taken to her. And
it seems that during her introduction tour she managed to do a bit of self-promotion
by talking up her series of articles that is scheduled to start this week on
her overland bike adventure. People are
keen to read all about it. Don’t know
whether it’s because they’re dying to find out how anyone could be such a fool,
or whether they just want to read the details of how a tiny, city girl like Ev
managed to keep her wits and her body warmth about her for two days in the
bush.
Guess they’ll find out on Friday. Me too.
She wouldn’t even let me read her drafts. Said she didn’t want it varnished, and that
it would be a better story if it was in her own words and phrasing, exactly as
she put it down. Didn’t like the idea,
but had to respect her intention.
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