Yeah, so I’ve been sitting here trying to decide what to write. It rained all Thanksgiving weekend. Rained? Poured. Torrentially. Unceasingly. When we went to Sherry and Jeffrey’s for Thanksgiving dinner, we squished our way across the lawn because the water was a couple of inches deep. The fire department was busy. Pumping out basements all over the island. We aquaplaned a little on the way back to the ferry. We went to bed and it was raining. We got up and it was raining. We all went a little crazy stuck inside for the whole weekend. It stopped for a bit on Monday. And then it started again. My drive home was very strange. I couldn’t see anything. I hit a coyote. I’ll tell you about it some other time. Best not to right now. I need to get over the incident myself first. Let’s just say I found a bit of myself I didn’t know existed until last night.
And I have a hell of a swing with a tyre iron. Must be all those golf lessons years ago.
Scrolling back the year…
So I was thinking about what to write and then I thought about the fact that I hadn't read back through the stuff I posted from Ireland since I've arrived here in June, and so I started flicking through the months before that.
It was strange; all the Percy and Queenie stuff; my top ten heroes of all time – I think I only got as far as seven, the questions, the political ranting which I don’t do anymore because I get paid to do it now, the endless worrying about moving to Canada. It all seems very far away now, even though I remember sitting in my apartment writing it during last winter and spring.
One of the really interesting ones is the list of reasons why I’m going to Canada, written in May. Two of them are completely wrong; firstly, Canada is not the world leader in partnership, Ireland is, and secondly, Canada is maybe geographically closer to the centre of power in the world, but psychologically it is a million miles away from it. Well, Nova Scotia is anyway. Living in Nova Scotia is like living in Kerry. We don’t particularly care about them rich folks across the road, unless they come over and buy our seafront and stop us from going fishing/ hunting/ walking/ whatever. But there are ways of dealing with them. None of which involve a tyre iron, thankfully.
The really interesting thing about the article is how accurate I was about what I might like about Canada. So I’m pleased with that.
Anyways, Thanksgiving Friday
That was another thing I’ve stopped doing so much – having little headlines. It’s the editor in me. I can’t help trying to break up the text to make it easier to read.
They published an Update without me. Despite that, I appear to have written one of the articles. Which I don’t remember writing. But it sounded like my sentences. I think maybe it’s the bastard child of a report I wrote once that was never published.
Never mind. I’ve been asked to submit my resume to NDI. Hooray! Gloriously glamorous international political hotspots here I come!! Conflict tourism and selling the western way of doing things to people who could probably invent something better all the way, boys and girls.
I hope they let me bring the tyre iron.
Thanksgiving weekend was nice. Apart from the rain. And one or two other things. The drive down was great because all the trees are wonderful colours and I drove at a very sedate 110kph and oohed and aahed the whole way down and made mental notes about where to stop to take photos on the way back (it hadn’t started raining at that point).
I went to another going away to Alberta party on Friday night. These events are getting too commonplace. It was like an Irish party in the eighties. Somebody was emigrating. The place was full of people I hadn’t seen for ages. No DJ. It was cold out, so of course we all stood in the yard and shivered at each other rather than sit inside in the warm house. Thank God for the Celtic Tiger and the coming of easily purchased and installed patio heaters.
Acshley,now that I think of it, I reckon I could start importing patio heaters to Canada and MAKE A FORTUNE at it. The nice little Mexican oven-shaped ones would sit perfectly on a deck.
I need a partner back home to do all the work for me, that’s what I need. Get the grant sorted.
Somebody had a bloody brilliant idea for a tourism venture on the island last weekend which I am going to try and follow up for them if I get a half a minute this month.
No, I’m not telling you.
So I got up early on Saturday morning and I was walking downstairs when Mackenzie (who’s nearly four) said ‘Do you want to see my gee?’ Hells bells, I laughed so much I had to run back upstairs and hide in my room so she wouldn’t be permanently psychologically scarred and traumatised by vague memories of a tall stranger cackling at her in her own house.
Turns out gee is milk.
Of course.
I wonder is its Irish meaning in that slang book that’s for sale on the O’Brien Press website. Everyone’s getting one of them feckin' Irish books for Christmas this year (because Ivan's got responsibilities now), so you can all pick the one you want, boys and girls.
(This does not apply to Irish people, obviously. You are getting nothing for Christmas unless you send a present over with Eileen when she comes across on the metal bird on Christmas Eve, whereupon you might get a little something from the New York shopping trip).
We went up to Digby. In the rain. I bought a desk lamp in the place I swore I'd never shop in but it's too easy to just park there and go in, and then we went to Frenchies. It was packed with people looking for something to do in the rain.
The shops are closed here on Sundays and holidays by the way. It’s great.
Didn’t do a whole pile on Saturday night, what with being tired from the party. Just sat around and watched that Al Pacino/ Johnny Depp (depending on your generation – me, I remember Al when he was hot in The Godfather. He was!) / and Michael Madsen of course, movie Donnie Brasco.
Sunday we went for dinner with the rest of the family and played pool and talked about the rain. It was all very reminiscent of St. Patrick’s Weekend. Minus the green dye in everything of course.
I wonder what the coyote was doing all weekend. Did it know its end was nigh?
Poor thing.
It’s only the second or third animal I’ve hit. I hit a chicken once. And a rabbit. It was the biggest.
And Monday night I FINALLY saw Sin City. And it's so beautiful. And silly at the same time. My first Canadian Thanksgiving was all about Michael Madsen.
And coyotes.
Thanks given.
Time to settle down for the winter and behave now, I suppose.
Sigh..........
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