It rained last night. The gardens (and I) are happy and the air smells sweet, sweet, sweet this morning.
I binged on housework early Tuesday morning: I cleaned up the studio, went over all the ceilings and walls of the house and the studio to remove cobwebs, cleaned the oven and its racks (!), washed the guest bathroom rug and made the beds in the guest rooms—including giving each a second pillow. And I watered all my gardens.
Then Her Highness and I went for a walk before I disassembled the last palette. No more hammering metal crowbars! Yay! I still have to clean the wood and that means more hammer work, but no more metal on metal.
A couple drove into the empty lot next door—source of the stones in the Garden of Stolen Stones. They walked all over the lot and then drove around the neighbourhood a couple of times.
They came back late in the afternoon and sat in their car—in the lot—for about fifteen minutes and then left. They neither spoke to me nor waived even though I was working on the palette very close to them. I’m anticipating the worst.
I’ll sort and move the lumber to the shed today and then I’ll shop. I’m baking a tart tomorrow to take a tart to Nanoose Bay on Friday and more, both savory and sweet, for my Saturday guests.
Perhaps because I lived my whole life in Vancouver, I remain in a state of bliss about living this island life. I am in a constant state of wonder and gratitude.
I’m shocked. But then, I’m not: Joe Biden has a huge lead over the over contenders for the Democratic nomination? America will move from worse to bad.
When I was at UBC, one of my favourite courses was creative writing. I loved the exercises we had each week. One assignment was to write an essay about our favourite piece of writing. I chose the Gettysburg Address and when the National Library in London assembled an exhibition about it, many years later, I went to see it.
I fell even deeper under the spell of Abraham Lincoln as a result of the exhibition because it showed the text of many speeches he made prior to the Gettysburg Address in which he first expressed one of the sentences that later became part of the Address. The exhibition showed the evolution of the speech I love so much.
That was a time when leaders were thinkers, authors and orators. My passion for the Address made its author the comparative I’ve used to measure the capacity of western leaders since that course at UBC so many, many years ago. People like Trump, Scheer and Bernier are an infinity away from Lincoln.
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