Edward's asking forgiveness again. Much better than permission.

Somebody called Edward, who has a private profile on Blogger.com (bad Edward) linked my blog to Infomonkey.net - Halifax. Then added a comment to my blog saying that he (is it even a he, we don't know, because his profile is private) had done so and if I minded that I should tell him so he can remove it.

I didn't minded, so I never said nothin'. See, I write a blog. Which is on the Internet. Which is like putting your diary in your front window with the page open to the previous day's entry.

Except the sun won't fade the writing on the blog, the way it would fade the writing in the diary.

So anyways, last night I wrote a (for me) totally boring piece on my camping trip to New Brunswick.

Lo and behold, up pops Edward in the comments box again.

Still private is Edward.

Reminding me that he linked me to infomonkey.net - Halifax and that some of what I write is personal, so if I mind to let him know straight away.

Well, yes, everything published here is personal to Queenie, but obviously none of it is private because it is on the Internet, so no I don't mind that you paid the blog the compliment of linking it to infomonkey.net - Halifax.

In fact, I found some other interesting blogs there.

If you write a blog and people link to it, that's good.

However, when I post, my traffic doesn't go up extra due to the link, that's not good.

I'm a great believer in asking forgiveness rather than permission. But, if you are concerned about people getting mad, asking permission in advance would reduce the number of times you have to mail people for forgiveness??!!

Sorry about the break... summer's getting busy already

As I said in my last post, Columbo arrived on 9th June for two weeks.

Guests are always a busy time. Well, not that there's extra business, just the fact that there is no lying around thinking about what to blog about time when there are actual friends here.

Not to mention blog time.

This time was particularly busy, as Kitty was doing exams at the same time, so there was coaching and prompting and motivating and of course it'll be fine and there-thereing to be done (having Columbo around helped as she shared the load on that). In addition, it's the start of the summer season so colleagues are coming and going and I generally have to be around in work, as I tend to take vacation in the winter. But still, we got a few days to hit the road and see a little bit of the Maritimes.

We headed off in the sunshine and went north into New Brunswick and got three days great weather, beautiful sunshine and enough wind to make it bearable (but not to get rid of the enormous mosquitos) and camped for two nights in French New Brunswick. Christ the mossies were big. Each morning we awoke at 5.30am to the dawn chorus, after which the sun came up and shone on the three million or so mosquitos circling the tent waiting, waiting, just waiting for us to slip up and open the zip.

A few got into the car and ate me alive the second day. Almost two weeks later, I am still covered in angry red bites all around my ankles.

We spent the first night in Kouchebouguac, a provincial park set on a lagoon about half way up the coast of New Brunswick. The warmest sea water north of Virginia apparently ... I thought that was Pictou County...

... well they're both in the lee of PEI, so maybe that's what keeps the water warm.

It was nice. Peaceful and the park people left us pretty much alone. We cooked steaks and drank some wine and listened to the wind die down and the birds go to bed and the fire crackle and then we crawled into bed.

About five minutes later we heard a clang as the top was knocked off our saucepan.

So I'm lying there hoping it's not a bear, but there aren't any bear snuffling noises so I hoped not.

More noises.

Eventually I clambered out of the sleeping bag and shone the torch on the cooler.

Nothing.

Next morning we discovered raccoons had opened the cooler, taken out the bananas, peeled them, eaten them and left the skins for us to dispose of.

And they had rolled all the eggs off the camping table to crack them so they could eat the yolks.

And left the shells along with the banana skins.

Raccoons.

Just like teenagers.

Next day we drove the Acadian peninsula and rolled into Caraquet about five, just in time to catch the Acadian living history village.

Nice place, but $15 each is a bit friggin' steep to watch a lot of local people sit around in old clothes pretending to run a farm.

I took careful note of how to make linen clothes from flax.

For the compound.

So we'll have clothes.

We camped just outside Caraquet and headed into town for dinner at the Chocolaterie, which was very nice and then did the fire thing again.

We got an amazing sunset and an amazing sunrise the next morning, over the Choc Choc Mountains in Quebec. That's where we were headed, but I looked at the map and thought about the drive home and we decided not to do it.

Maybe next time...

Still and all, it was nice to see another province for a change.

No moose but.

I'm never going to see a moose.

Three years today

I came to Canada three years ago today.

As Yoichi would say (well probably not now as he's probably fluent in English at this stage), as Yoichi would have said three years ago, 'WOW!'

That day three years ago, I stayed with Ammonite and the others in Teach Dusetti the night before I left, and Colombo waved me off at the airport. So it is fitting that Colombo flies in tonight, and that Ammonite is coming to visit in August.

Well, it's probably just a coincidence, but I have decided it is fitting.

Three years.... lots of personal growth... lots of fun... lots of adjusting to a new culture (yes, Nova Scotia is a new culture, it is very different to Ireland)... lots of adjusting to a new work culture... oh yeah...

Lots of heartache...

And I still haven't given up smoking.

Aaghggh!!

I AM JUST GOING TO GIVE THE FRIGGIN' THINGS UP.

I am.

This month.

So how do you feel?

The phone rang in work yesterday.

It does ring quite a bit.

I wait to see the number.

Often it is my own. Kitty home from school, bored, wanting to check in. I check in back. We chat a bit. She reconnects then she's happy to wait till quarter past five when one of us is usually home.

Otherwise it's just work usually.

But the phone rang yesterday.

I waited.

Private number.

Ehhhummmmm....

I picked up.

So how do you feel today, Queenie?

It's a woman's voice. It's an older woman. It's a black woman.

Queen.

The other Queenie. Except she's not Queenie. She's just Queen.

Former colleague.

Well, I don't know Queen. How do you feel?

I don't know what to feel, Queenie, that's why I called you.

Well, Queen, I reckon you must be a little bit sad and a little bit excited.

Well, I guess I am. I thought you might know how I feel. How do you feel?

I'm fucking mad, Queen. How in the hell does a smart ass, younger, inexperienced man beat a strong, clever older woman for Presidential candidate, Queen?

I don't know, Queenie.

I guess our time has gone, Queen.

Well, maybe mine anyway, Queenie, you're still young.

But you must be happy, Queen.

I guess I'm excited for the young people, Queenie. I see them all excited and it makes my heart glad.

Yeah, me too.

Shame though...

Yeah...

I'm worried, Queenie, I hear they're going to say something bad about his wife soon.

What?

Something about the church. You know, that's what all those churches are like, Queenie. They all talk like that. It doesn't mean anything. That's how we keep our sanity. You must know. You're from over there.

Over there?

You know what I mean.

Yeah, I know.

I'm worried, Queenie. I'm real worried.

Maybe so, Queen, she looks like a strong woman though.

Maybe.

Sometimes, Queenie, I wonder how strong we've gotta be.

Yeah, I wonder that too.

To die in your own wee, or on your own wii?

I bet Martin McDonagh never thought there'd be a Wii when he wrote that brilliant passage in A Skull in Connemara about dying in a potty of wee.

I brought Kitty and her friend to see it tonight. A small little company. A rickety stage set up in an abandoned shop. Twenty five people in the audience, scrunched up around the stage. Potting compost and fragments of fake bone flying all over us.

Great.

When the wee bit started, I thought the two girls were going to choke they laughed so much.

Me, I was the only person who laughed at the Eamon Andrew jokes. And the Dana jokes. And the bumpy slides in Leisureland in Galway sketch.

But that was alright.

You're in your own little world in the theatre anyway.

Well done to Obstructed View Plays for taking it on with probably tuppence ha'penny worth of funding. They did a great job of it.