Sweet, sweet summer
June 24, 2007 § Leave a comment
A lovely weekend here. We did a bit more geocaching, but we’ve largely run out of those fun, easy-to-find, we-don’t-need-no-stinkin’-GPS caches. There was a small meltdown (mine) on a rocky beach in Blandford yesterday, but we did find three more. Right now Richard is scouring eBay for cheap, four-year-old GPS units, and keeping one eye on our chequing account, hoping that leprechaun gold will finally show up.
Today we tried to go bird-watching in Shelburne County, and managed to find a well-groomed woodland path managed by Bowater Mersey, but I didn’t wear proper hiking footwear, and I had to pee*, so we aborted the hike about 350 yards into the forest. Richard is always too kind to me when I do things like this (pretty much once a week), so I was kind in turn, and didn’t laugh very much when he threw both hands in up and jumped six inches in the air when a pencil-thin garter snake darted across the path.
Although we didn’t go very far, the path was lush, Arcadian, but utterly devoid of birds. There were ferns and glacial boulders, though, and many bouquets-worth of lady slippers. We used to have a very productive patch next to our house in Maine, but they were gradually trampled and picked by the neighborhood savages. I got just one shot off before the camera’s batteries died.
Afterwards we had lunper (lunner? linner?) at Seaside Seafood Home of the the World’s Best Clams™ where the batter was crunchy and the fish was flaky, but the chips were pre-frozen (the only cardinal sin in Nova Scotia cuisine) and soggy.
We tried a new route home through West LaHave, and hey, Bridgewater! You’re protesting the wrong ‘waterfront eyesore’. The honor of that title belongs to the hideous Bridgewater Mall, which thoughtfully paved over your potential waterfront. Those retired naval ships add character. And I can’t be the first to point out that character is something your town sorely lacks. Also, dude who put that sign out? Your house isn’t very pretty, either.
But I digress.
I love these summer drives. When Richard and I were stuck in Halifax looking after his mother, I longed for the two or three days each summer when we could patch together semi-regular care for her and take off for a day trip to the Valley or Lunenburg. And now that we have them almost every weekend, it’s just gotten better. Last Sunday was our second anniversary, and truly, it’s better every day.
We got married simply for immigration reasons— neither of us minded the institution, but we didn’t think it was for us. Richard was doing me a favor. I planned the “ceremony” in a week, just eleven days after his mother’s death. We were married in our living room, by Richard’s cousin who was a justice of the peace. I wore the black skirt I bought for the funeral and a badly-fitting striped summer shirt. I had only planned on two guests, after which we’d eat minestrone and flatbread pizza (the witnesses’ contribution), then the tropical carrot cupcakes I baked earlier in the day. The whole thing cost about $32.
We hadn’t told anyone but my family and our witnesses, but just hours before the, uh, event, we broke down and informed the rest of Richard’s family via email. They all blew in— more than 20 of them— just before the wedding, utterly shell-shocked, and some of them positive we were making a big mistake. There was wine, music, and chatter— no room to dance.
The next morning, Richard’s four sisters arrived at 8 to clean out their mother’s closet.
It wasn’t an Auspicious Beginning, but every single day since then has been better than I could have imagined. Through the illness, the recovery, the poverty, I couldn’t ask for a better partner, or a better friend. Thank you for that, Roo. I love you more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow. xo
*Which turned into a bladder infection when we got home. Yes! I am sooo lucky!