Sea, Sand, & Supper

Boat and gull heading in for supper.

Fishing boats heading out to catch supper.


A family heading home for supper.


Can you tell my head was wrapped around thoughts of supper at this time? It was to be our long-awaited annual feed of fried seafood at the beach just prior to C's departure for Montreal. Alas, it was not to be. After placing our order and waiting for an hour for our number to be called, C finally gave up and begged Pierre to drive her to the airport so she wouldn't miss her flight. I gave her a quick hug goodbye and watched them disappear into the setting sun as I sat and waited...and waited...for the food to be ready. Sitting there, I had time to ponder the fact that my bag was in the trunk of the car and all I had with me was my camera, the ticket for supper, and two half-empty (or were they half full?) cans of beer. Oh well, what else could a girl possibly need?
P.S. 15 minutes after C & P left, our food was ready. I ate my share and watched the darkness begin to fall, trying not to panic with thoughts of C missing her flight, Pierre being in a highway crash, me being stranded. Fifty minutes after having left, P arrived back to rescue me and his share of supper. C caught her flight with time to spare. We have some leftover clams in the fridge today, if anyone's hungry...

Back Door Flora, Fauna, & Misadventures

Some back door sights from the past week or so, though the sunshine is presently missing in action.

Swing time

June Doe

Back Door Caller

The moth was clinging to the back door screen last night just before I left for the airport at midnight to fetch Pierre. I don't know the symbolism of moths...are they harbingers of being drawn to one's unfortunate fate? On my Nervous Nellie style drive to the airport, I was temporarily dazzled by the bright lights of a car dealership and got confused about the freeway exit...was it leading to the dealership or the airport??? As I sailed right past it, I realized it led to both; I'd missed it and was now speeding along to Nova Scotia--another province altogether! Thanks to a previous lost experience I once shared with Kibby (en route to our Hookers Anonymous meeting, but that's another story) I had learned to quell my panic, practice the Art of Acceptance, and trust that I would somehow, sometime, hopefully before running out of gas, be able to find another exit that would head back in the right direction. After creeping along in the pitch black while cars and trucks whizzed by me, my heart thumping louder than a boombox bass, I eventually found my way onto a narrow, winding country road that held out the promise of wending its way towards the vicinity of the airport. Gradually, I began to recognize some landmarks and found the former entrance of the old airport--only to discover that it had no access whatsoever to the new terminal. So near and yet so far! I was tempted to climb the fence and run across the fields and tarmac but was hindered by my sprained ankle. Instead, I kept stalwartly driving on, without too badly hyperventilating, and discovered a sideroad that took me directly to the new airport's parking lot. I pulled in with a good 5 minutes to gather myself together before Pierre came strolling out of the arrivals area.

"Any trouble getting here?"