I understand that people build retaining walls on oceanfront property to protect their investment, but is it not possible to build an attractive retaining wall? I was nearly sick to my stomach this week when I made my gallant return to the site of my aunt's old cottage in Caribou River. As JW and I drove, then walked, to the beach, memories of the beach as it had been flooded my mind. I remembered the beautiful sand, the rocky outcroppings, the "sea island" (a.k.a., reef) and the grassy path from the cottage to the beach. I really liked that path. On cold, windy (but sunny) days, I would lie on the hot sand in the grass to keep warm. I did a lot of imagining there, listening to the wind whipping through the grass and to the waves breaking along the shore.
The first wave of nausea hit when I saw a new cottage built between my aunt's cottage and the shore. It looks like a twisted box perched on eight feet of ugly concrete. It has an ugly deck, with a nice view. The second wave came when, down on the beach, I saw what had been done to the coastline. When I was last at the cottage, there was only one retaining wall, and it was just branches and sticks tied together. It didn't look that bad. Now, the entire shore in front of the cottages is wall. The grass I so loved is gone, replaced by concrete poured over a steel frame (that can be seen sticking out in places). It's cracked in places, and there are ugly steps molded into it in the middle.
To the left of this monstrosity are large boulders that replace a steep, grassy embankment. To the right, more rocks and boulders. There is no sign of the original shoreline. It is nothing like I remembered. My mental state wasn't helped by a completely frozen ocean, motionless and lifeless, covering most of the sand. The notable "Scott" rock is gone, the "dunebuggy fortress" is rubble, and there is a massive new cottage in the woods where LS and I used to go exploring.
Finally, on to my week! It really was a good week, despite this chilling dose of reality - honest. It began on a wild note. Feeling particularly bored Monday evening, I decided to take the bus to TA's to hang out. JT was there, and we had a few drinks, chatting late into the night. I didn't get to bed until three in the morning, and I paid the price the next day at work.
Tuesday evening, JW and I went to our favourite restaurant in Bedford for dinner. We got to see a nearby condo complex burn down on the way to the restaurant - the second big fire in the city in a week. The meal was delicious as always, perhaps more so (merely because the memory is more recent).
Back at JW's place, I showed her some books I'd purchased online that I knew would be of particular interest to her. They were books resulting from the Jesus Seminar - a gathering of great minds assigned the task of determining the truth as it pertains to the life of Jesus. Being a student of truth, I felt that the books would be of interest to me - I don't want to read about what someone thinks Jesus did - that kind of truth is too easily exaggerated, misinterpreted or biased (with malice of forethought or otherwise). I want to read about what he really did. As JW scanned through the sections of the bible evaluated by the seminar, it became quickly apparent that a great deal of it is not founded in truth. In fact, some very important bits of it are completely untrue (editor's note: I've been vacationing down south, but now I'm back. The phrase "completely untrue" is redundant - how can something be partially untrue?). I'm looking forward to a good read (the books have taken their places toward the front of the queue).
Wednesday evening I decided to finally go to a yoga class. My physical flexibility is poor, and my mental discipline sometimes wavers - two issues addressed by yoga. I showed up to the class without first registering - I had myself convinced that it would either be full, or that I'd be turned away for not registering (this serves as an example of why I'm going). I arrived ten minutes before class, so that I'd have time to register. After nearly bursting into a dark room full of people, I retreated to the stairway to await my fate. Two girls a bit older than myself soon appeared, and I questioned them a bit about the class. They told me that the class was small, relatively easy and pretty fun. Ever being the one feeling the need to justify my every decision, I told them that I'd skipped the first week due to the cold, then immediately regretted it. It was true, though (editor's note: there you go again).
I paid the instructor for the class and a yoga mat rental, which was mildly amusing because the instructor couldn't subtract $12.50 from $15. They could scarcely add $1 to $11.50. I got my mat, and two hard cushions made to look like stones, and took my place next to the instructor's mat at the front. To my left sat an older lady who warned me about getting too close due to her "limited control of her own body," flailing her limbs in my general direction indicitively.
The class itself was fun - the time passed quickly, and some of the moves were challenging. Yoga is as much focused on the mind as it is the body. Breathing is at its core - we were constantly reminded to focus on our breathing throughout the class. We were told when to breathe in, and when to breathe out. We tried to connect our minds to our bodies by concentrating on our breath and the precise movements of our bodies. I was pleasantly surprised in that I was able to do all of the moves; some were more painful than others, but I got through it.
The cooldown phase of the class was wonderful. We placed pillows under our backs and heads, and a roll under our knees. We laid back in the dark, listening to quiet music, trying to relax every muscle in our bodies. It worked, too, because I felt like I could've stayed there the entire night.
After the class, walking back to the car, I noticed that my body was feeling great. I was also mentally in a good place. I was loose in both senses. It was funny that I was going to TA's so that we could go out to eat unhealthy, fried chicken wings.
We wound up going to play pool instead. I ordered some mozza sticks, and later we went to Burger King for whoppers - the epitomy of health. We called it a night earlier than usual, as we were both tired.
I was excited all morning Thursday - it was difficult to do my work, especially where I'd stayed home to work. I was really looking forward to going away with JW for a couple of days - I hadn't been far out of the city since our trip to her parents' cottage in October. I did manage to exercise some self-restraint, and I got a lot done. I have this strange ability to focus intently on work moments before a big event. For example, before an after-work party at company A, I would get nothing done until moments before the party, and then I'd stay behind a few minutes, excitingly wrapping up my work. This time around, I unnecessarily worked a bit longer than I had to. When the time arrives to stop working, I think I automatically switch into a good mood - even though I continue to work, I feel like I've stopped and am doing something fun. It's strange. Anyway, I went to pick up JW just after two. I'd arranged to have Friday off completely - repayment for working the weekend my last time in Seattle.
Our destination was just outside of River John. We stopped at the Superstore in Elmsdale, and I clearly remember taking a moment to absorb the excitement of the moment - our little trip was just beginning. I look back on that moment now with jealousy, as my prospects the next few days aren't nearly as appealing. We got quite a bit of food, then continued on.
We arrived at the cottages just after five. The lady running the cottages was finishing up some barn work, and so we were invited to wait inside her house by one of her friends.
When she arrived, we chatted for a while about the area, JW's roots and the modifications she was making to her house. It was fun for the first twenty minutes, but the meticulous recount of her home renovation plan ultimately drove us out.
The cottage itself was much nicer than I'd expected - the bathroom towels were folded like paper fans, and the end of the toilet paper was folded into a triangular shape. There was a rocking chair on the second level with a view of the ocean through two large windows. The kitchen had everything except a dishwasher - it was great!
We cooked steaks in the oven after unpacking (the BBQ was non-operational - it looked like it had been left outside for five years without a cover). The steaks were cheap, and they didn't turn out well, but we got them down, along with random veggies from a veggie tray.
After the meal, we watched American Beauty, an excellent movie that only suffers from trying to be a bit too perfect. It features a man who decides to take control of his own life; his wife, a power-hungry person whose only focus is her career; his daughter, a social outsider who finds friendship (and more) with a new neighbour's son; his daughter's friend, with whom he nearly has a relationship; the new neighbour, an in-the-closet homosexual who comes to believe that his son is one via a series of "unfortunate" misunderstandings; and the neighbour's son, another social outsider, overwhelmed by the beauty he sees in the world, often finding beauty in unusual places. I was able to relate to the son a bit, except that I tend to disclude most human creations when I think of beauty.
The movie conveys a refreshing view of spirituality, probably as close to my own "view" (I use quotes because it is not completely defined yet, nor should it be) as any movie has yet come. I won't open that can of worms here, though.
After the movie, we relaxed a bit before going to bed. I mention this here merely because I want to point out that the word "relax" doesn't necessarily imply any particular activity :)
Friday morning, we were unable to get up early enough to go see the farm operated by the owners of the cottages. Instead, we got up and enjoyed sourdough bread (from Hydrostone) with havarti cheese - dangerously delicious, as always. We then headed out to my aunt's old cottage - I've already beaten the negative horse to death, so now I'll try beating the positive one. We parked next to the frog pond, though the frogs were entombed beneath many feet of ice at that moment. We walked down the road toward the cottages, crossing through B's property to get down to the beach. We walked to the left for a while, going beyond the first land reef. The ice covering the rocks surprisingly made the walking easier.
We turned around, and headed in the opposite direction, crossing in front of the cottages, in plain view of certain aforementioned structures. We climbed up to the wall to get a look at my aunt's cottage. I learned later that it had been moved forward, and I realize now that I was justified in feeling like it was closer to the beach. Further down the beach, we discovered a new mansion in the woods behind BL's. That part of the beach had been quite private. Further down, around the corner and past the second land reef in that direction, we found the "dunebuggy fortress." We stopped there for a moment, then headed back to the car.
We drove into Pictou, it being pretty close to the cottage. We took pictures of the Hector, enjoyed hot roll-up-the-rim (editor's note: NOT rrrrrrrim!) beverages, and took time to stop at the local dollar store, the first destination of any sane tourist. We took a brief drive around town, rediscovering the location of the golf course in the process, then headed back toward the cottage.
I was going to stop there, but I was enjoying the music and the open road, and JW was asleep, so I continued on to River John and then Tatamagouche. In Tatamagouche, I woke JW up and we went into a local bookstore, then an art/antiques store. We then headed back to the cottage for a nap.
For dinner, we had bacon and eggs with chocolate milk. Now that's a dinner, in my books! After dinner, we watched The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, a three-hour marathon, but a good one. I've seen it many times, so there's no need to describe it here for my future reference.
The next morning, we got up, finished off the sourdough bread and cheese, packed the car up, and headed to the farm to see the calves. We couldn't find anyone around, so we gave ourselves a brief tour. While exploring a barn full of baby calves, the farmer came in and began giving us a tour. He showed us an interesting feeding system that feeds the calves amounts of milk based on collars they wear around their necks. Then, we went to another barn to watch older cows feed, then finally to a sheep pen with a couple of dozen sheep. We gained a lot of insight into the farming industry, as he talked about its difficulties.
Some key information gleaned from the farmer is as follows: there's no money in sheep wool; we Canadians feed our sheep too much resulting in fatty meat; organic farming is not economically viable; and beef prices are set to plummet with the rise of ethanol as a fuel. Mix in talk specific to his farm, and you've got the makings of a forty-five minute conversation. We appreciated him taking the time to talk to us.
With much work to be done, the farmer jumped into his tractor while his wife continued the conversation. Much of it focused on her cats, and the mouse that her dog toyed with as we watched.
After our delightful visit, we got in the car and began our solemn trip back. It was sad to see our trip come to an end - I wished I'd had another day to just veg out. Anyway, we arrived at my parents' just after lunch to trade cars, then went down to JW's. We napped for a couple of hours, as we were both tired.
I left her place around four, arriving at TA's shortly after five to begin the St. Paddy's Day festivities. We sat around watching UFC fights, drinking beer, and watching groups of drunken teenagers parade around outside of his apartment. JT showed up around eight-thirty, which really didn't alter the course of the evening. Around ten, we took a cab to a party being thrown by one of TA's co-workers. I was too drunk, and I didn't mix well with a potentially-interesting crowd. I managed to win a game of darts, only missing the playing surface once (I must have good hand-eye co-ordination) against a seasoned player. By twelve, I was asleep on the couch in front of the living room television. I woke up and decided to go home. TA begged me to stay, as we'd planned to go to another party hosted by IF and RD, but I would have none of it in my state. By quarter past twelve, I was asleep in bed.
Sunday morning was not fun. I was dizzy and I felt quite sick, off and on, for a few hours. The symptoms didn't completely vanish until after dinner. I cleaned the house and wrote the first part of this entry, before going to see Mum for dinner (Dad was away). We watched Vijay Singh win the Arnold Palmer Invitational, then I headed home for more blog writing. I watched Family Guy before hitting the sack.
--End of Transmission--
I’m currently listening to: Haitian Fight Song, from Ken's Burns Jazz Series: Charles Mingus by Charles Mingus (this is an AWESOME song).
Movies watched this week: Ocean's 12, American Beauty, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
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