My foraging. |
I’m still shocked by how well I do on my own—well, with three pets.
Happy! Happy! Happy!
I used to both go to bed, and wake up, in full consciousness of my many things to do. Now I go to bed in neutral, not drive, and wake in the same state. Things to do always seem to emerge; yesterday it was collecting leaves from my path in a fold at the waist of my t-shirt. I’ll do more foraging and then see about weaving them into a wreath.
The gardens, the house and the yard, of course, also provide lots of incentives to work. And then there are the parks and beaches to explore.
For the past three mornings I’ve met people to talk and walk with at Drumbeg. Billl and Jo-Ann are new to me but Dianne works for the seaplane and I see her all the time. And Jules was a fellow volunteer at the festival. It’s all happenstance; nothing is arranged and that is part of the pleasure of it and life on Gabriola.
After the walk, I went into the village to do errands and then came home to do housekeeping chores—and I really enjoyed doing them. I did things I’d long been meaning to do but have been too busy to get to (due to all the volunteering). I even polished all the furniture. Pinecone Park just shines when it’s all cleaned and tidied.
I cleared my huge studio table of everything, too, so I could wash my every-day blankets that Sheba gets so dirty. It’s an ideal table on which to dry them. They are huge wool HBC blankets.
I went back to Drumbeg late in the afternoon. The park had many visitors; it was a spectacular evening—so beautiful, I kept having crying spells, partly because of the overwhelming beauty of the evening and partly, I think, due to a sadness that I have no intimate with whom to share such beauty.
To end the day, I barbequed myself a pork loin and then settled into an earned evening of total relaxation at Pinecone Park where it truly feels otherworldly. Every time I return from somewhere, the fragrances of my flowers, the tropical sounding birdsong and the overall silence gives me feeling of specialness, of being unbelievably lucky to live in so stimulating yet calming an environment.
This is Drumbeg:
This is the beach at the south-east end of the park. |
This is the bay at south-west end of the park. |
A favourite place. |
The water is clear and deliciously inviting. Today a classical guitarist was playing nearby. |
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