I heard roosters crowing when I took Zelda for her morning walk, and saw cows in a distant field, plus lots of forest, and a beautiful red dirt road. Also a patch of sunflowers and a lovely expanse of Queen Anne’s lace, which I am sadly quite allergic to. I’ve retreated inside the van with my congestion and itchy eyes, but it’s another beautiful day on Prince Edward Island. Tons of mosquitoes, though — I hope my immunity to them kicks in again soon, because they’re ferocious here.
Yesterday I took the van to an RV service place in Charlottetown and got the leaking toilet fixed. Yay! The guy doing the job grumbled about the last repair — I think the guy in Montana didn’t fix the leak, just put a clamp over it — but my plastic parts have now been replaced with brass parts and so that should hold me for a while. I hope, anyway. Today I’m headed off to get the oil changed, the brake fluid levels checked (the light has flickered on a couple of times), and the tires rotated. Yes, dealing with the practicalities of van life!
The farm — and I can’t remember whether we’re allowed to be specific when it’s a Harvest Hosts spot, but if you’re a Harvest Hosts member, you’ll know which farm it is, because it’s the only one on Prince Edward Island — doesn’t have a store, so I handed S., the farmer, some money and said, “Feed me.” LOL. More or less, anyway. He gave me bacon, eggs, potatoes, tomatoes, beans, and a zucchini and I really feel like I should pull out the frying pan and do a giant UK-style fry-up. (Harvest Hosts, for those who don’t know it, is an annual membership service that connects users with farms, wineries, museums, and an assortment of other places where you can park for free for the night. The expectation is that you pay by shopping in their stores.)
We had a great conversation about cooking, too. S teaches cooking classes, specifically (today at least) slow cooker classes where you prep the food ahead of time for a week’s worth of meals. It made me want to cook some complicated things in my slow-cooker, instead of just a week’s worth of quinoa. But the weather is supposed to be colder for the next couple of days, so I’m hoping to grab the opportunity to use my oven a few times: roasted vegetables, granola, etc.
Hmm, this is turning out to be a food-driven post, which is probably because I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. I should get on that! I was going to write about writing — or not writing, as the case has been for a couple of days — but I’ll hold that thought until later.
But in a comment on another blog, I described myself as “flailing.” I worked on Grace for such a long time that I sort of feel like Sisyphus, having reached the top of the hill and having the boulder NOT roll back down again. I’ve been appreciating life without the boulder, but every time I start writing, I start to fall into the trap of treating the words like a boulder instead of the beach ball they ought to be. And that’s a metaphor that might not make sense to anyone but me, but I’m leaving it because it’s a perfect reminder to me of what I’m striving for. Words like beach balls, light and bouncy and playful!
tehachap said:
Robert’s urologist surgeon used to draw a picture of Sisyphus at every visit, telling Robert he needs to keep pushing that boulder up the hill… (to recovery from surgery)