March 18th, 2016
Time traveling takes on many outward appearances. A short time ago, here in the diatribe, I meandered around the recently instated, institutional time change, that being, marching for me, may possibly be with a different drummer, forward and falling asleep. (I still, have not adjusted the car clock and cannot tell if I am approaching or departing) Nevertheless, another hit the shores of my reality consequently and as a result, yours!! How does this happen? I am minding my mind, or trying to, then we are OFF in another direction entirely.
At this split second, we here in the big little city are headed back to winter. WHY cry my dear and loyal readers, why. (we are saying the same thing I have to admit) Snow is falling. Yes just when we thought we could put the unfriendly unwieldy and cumbersome coat away. Change the tires to a lighter variety and dreams of going on the sultry diet or two. There were thoughts I have to admit of cleaning out the car, dreaming of washing the upholstery. Even possibly getting the dog a wash as she is of a odor that is very distinctive at the moment. With the snow, all things winter are back and dreams of warm, in the past. Even, the soup pot was hauled out and threw the recently purchased noodles therein.
There are widely held traditions of the secularization of an Irish holiday, with all things green, beer, hats, beards, green everything, and with parades. I have to admit, I parade daily around the bed and breakfast establishment thru no fault of my own. Usually going in circles. Conventionally folks celebrate with green, we go with white outs. The compromise is by wearing the green, and here in the Maritimes, that would be a green sweater. There is a rumour, unsubstantiated I have to admit, that there is a nor’easter on its way for the first of the week. (It has not been confirmed by social media )
Thus with walking the dog, making the soup, attending a orientation of refugees, debating ethics of youth in Asia, I totally, wholly, and absolutely, overlooked my glue, my anchor of the week. On the second T day of the week, recycling. Only when on the last jog around the block, & dressed in my jammies, and almost OFF to bed and dreamland, did I realize most of the neighbors had too. One way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure. William Feather & Moi