life in the old lane

There’s always the fog of war. These days we seem to be suffering from a full-on Fog of Washington.

The old folks at the Asylum are organizing another No Kings protest on October 18. I’d like to make it into D.C., but it might be smarter to stay here and support the home team. That’s the far-distant future — 13 days from now.

While I was away, a few things needed doing, but didn’t get done. Today, I did them. Which tells me maybe I could just “do things” on the first and fifteenth of each month and chill the rest of the time. Because, honestly, a lot of what I do doesn’t need doing in the first place.

Tomorrow’s task: get ready for the 11th Floor Origami Dojo Grand Going-Out-of-Business Sale on Wednesday.
I have:
• 3 large crane wreaths – $60 each
• 3 other large wreaths – $40 each
• 2 cute little butterfly wreaths – $20 each
Plus some boxes. 

Not sure what my neighbor will contribute. For us, origami went from fun to challenging to drudgery. Time to close up shop and just fold for fun again.

Note to self: Stop buying folding paper.

Back at The Asylum by mid-morning. Unpacked. Picked up a few groceries. Washed my hair. Took a nap. Drinks. Dinner. With luck, back to “normal” tomorrow.

One great advantage of living at The Asylum: you know everything will be fine when you get home. Not like the time Carlton and I returned to find three dead squirrels in our fireplace and the house infested with very hungry fleas.

Eleven years ago today I came home from work at about one pm and found dead.

It’s been an interesting 11 years. I miss my dear friend every day. And every day I am grateful for all the days we shared.

Back at The Asylum tomorrow morning. 

After lots of walking over the last few days, I am into doing nothing much. Reading. Folding bats. Thinking about packing up and getting off the boat. Eating. Drinking. Might have to go to AA when this is over. 

On the Norwegian ship we got chocolate not towel critters.

Only 2.5 miles today. As chillaxing as this is, I am not a candidate for an around the world cruise.

Walked all around Sydney this morning. Over 5.5 miles. Incredible gratitude that I am still able to get out and enjoy the world. I feel like the St Michaelmas daisy — surviving. My body is looking forward to two sea days for recovery. 

Halifax is an awesome fine city.
Walked about 6 miles today.
And had a wonderful lobster roll and beer.
My travel companion joined me for the lobster roll quest.

Tomorrow Sydney 

According to Google maps one could drive from St John to Halifax in 4 hours. It’s going to take us 37 hours to get there. At 10 MPH.

We even had fantastic whales. Breeches, blows, tails and sounds. Best whales I have seen on the East Coast.

It was raining at breakfast. By the time the ship was all tied up, the rain stopped. So, out I go. I consult with ChatGPT. It didn’t realize that stuff is closed on Sundays. Made my own plan.

I am heading for the Sunday Market.
It was a wonderful market. I bought a scone for lunch.

After checking out the market I wandered around.

Picked up a Tim Hortons coffee and eat my scone. Wandered back to the ship. 11,886 steps. Glad tomorrow is a sea day.

My travel companion decided that she would trust me. Silly woman. So we headed out into wildest Boston in quest of clam chowder.

St.John New Brunswick tomorrow.

 

Leisure do nothing day today.
Little walk.
Nice brekkie with Christie. Alvocado Toast!
Sat on deck 5 and read.
Another litte walk.
Got a miniature tomato and mozzarella sandwich for lunch.
Read. Doomscrolled. Considering a nap.

Returned to the cabin.

Japanese tonight after cocktails. Tomorrow, Boston. Maybe round up some clam chowder?

Everything has gone off with out a hitch. We had a nice lunch of roast beef and good bread.

I am tired and hoping for a good sleep tonight.

When you drive to the cruise ship, packing light isn’t really required. At first, I was stuffing everything into my backpack, then I realized I didn’t need to. So out came the “big” suitcase with wheels. If we head north—and if I manage not to spill my drink down my shirt—I might not even have to wash clothes out in the shower.

I’m leaving the computer behind this time. I need a little downtime. Books will be read, bats will be folded, and naps will be taken.

Now I wonder—if we do make it to Canada, will they even let us in? Especially after yesterday’s embarrassing show at the UN. He is a sick, old, demented man. It’s only a matter of time. Nobody is promised tomorrow. Not even presidents.