yyt

ich bin eine newfoundlander - j.f kennedy
thought to self the province of newfoundland and labrador is $3 000 000 000 cdn in debt - didn't think that the silver knight of the s.a.i.c. had ever been here but then again there are a lot of half empty buildings.

this really sucks, i'm having a problem writing this because nothing happens in a linear fashion. likewise everything here has a twist. when i first came in 1999 i tried not to look at the scenery - don't look at the scenery, who wants to be the ansel adams of the north, don't make tourist cards. but that is not possible when everything is determined by geography. the pines that wouldn't pass for a decent christmas tree. cliffs the ocean so close but not accessible and when it is access it is at your own peril. it is the beauty it is cape st francis, it is the moon scape around st. shotts. it is also how people deal with it.

coming home from the fireworks last night looked forward to the panorama of pouch that appears after the last curve i always try to find the post office but cannot, bruce's is the only thing lit but always look too far to the right to find it. the main road twists going through the town. can find sullivan's loop but not the pipe house. seeing this and the blackness of the ocean i wondered how i could look at the ocean and like it when i know the spots where they found jesse a.j. and adam just over two years ago. it is that twist. i am sitting with the ocean in front of me imagining ireland as the next land mass but turn my head a bit to the right and it is where they pulled one of the bodies from the ocean.

it was manifest again by canada day being a day of mourning in newfoundland due to beaumont hamel.

this was made apparent when looking up from the dining room table i saw sharon go by. i was at the window where i last saw her son alive as he peaked through to talk to me as i was wandering about.

i couldn't open the window quickly enough to say hello so i had to run through the bedroom out on the deck and shout. a true chat she by the fence me on the deck passing the gossip of the town. she was on her morning walk , asked if i had been to the pipe house to see the new people up from toronto and the boston states.

headed down to the post office to send off a post card of toronto to the enlightened dean of students at beloit college who in a usual fit of beloit wisdom is quarantining all people who have been to a s.a.r.s. effected area. post card read pearl jam and ray charles seen in toronto - both lived. plan to shake his hand when i return to the states coughing in it first. also went to say hello to mary and to find out what was new. passing the morning crowd who to-day were in their cars - it was only 6 degrees but it warmed up nicely. they all craned their neck to see who i was. they craned it even more when i met up with sharon coming toward me to go over to the pipe house to see if she could clean it - actually to check out a rumour. she had me tag along so that i could be intorduced. met the torontonians but the yanks had fled. it seems that the "rustic" appeal of the pipe house was not what they were expecting. they arrived yesterday - driving up - were gone to-day.

no one was surprised. it is not montauk, it can be a shock especially in july when you need heat and are confronted by a wood stove. sharon made time when she could come back and clean and we walked back up to sullivans loop. the long way. the was i had been avoiding as it would pass number 28 the once future compound. the for sale sign was back up the place looked as great as ever. as we passed the place where they pulled her son out of the water she looked away. found out that she owns the house and the lot beside number 14. my view of down town pouch thanks to her not building across sullivans loop on the ocean side. she owns a shed on this side which if she did it up like the house on the other side would be a great work space. a sculptor has asked for the place to work. but she won't build there as she would always look out to where they found her son. she lives on the other side of main road with barely a view of the ocean.

while she told me that this was all her property , and while i was now closing my mouth and starting to breathe , we walked out now her dog - part husky withsix puppies who chases cars along the main road - and she showed me the seat that jesse had made for her. it is a place on the cliff that overlooks the ocean but with an erratic on the left. she could never understand why jesse would have made a seat for her there. until his drowning. the rock blocks the view of the site so she can sit quietly.

we talked of the area - about the man she found on her property not long ago who she thought had alzheimer's. she went up to talk to him and he laid out the geography of the place below hers and martin and gabrielle's place. just barely visible was a walk to what would have been a boat ramp you could just make out where the cod flakes would have been. sharon was now looking for pictures of the spot when there was still a fisheries.

i was told that the land here on the point was given to her by the fishermen as each owned just enough land to keep their boat and put up their flake. all pieced together it was a nice parcel. she at one time had a studio/gallery had a café but gave it up to be a mother. also money wasn't really being made. she wants to start it up again which i find problematic as pouch cove cane barely support one convenience. asked if the bark pot did well - no.

it seems that bruce is the walmart of pouch cove. at one time there were five conveniences in town and a hard goods store but bruce tobin - a newcomer did it better and survived.

she has plans for the lot but still would live on the other side of the road. she said that she may stop by later for a chat.

raced into st. john's it was the first day that i could buy the necessities - food and the like - and will at wordplay was going to tell me what i need to get my site up and ready rc-d.com may still be a reality. have to figure a way to get it from go live to sftp. while down there jen was gloating on her osx'ed power book - said that the school could get us one also but we decided to put it in real estate - and a great programme called transport. will try it out soon. seems that it is easier to get stuff here on the edge of civilisation than in the world's greatest art school. as that is coming along with osx.

driving like a newfoundlander now when the sign says 50k/h do 80. time into st.john's shortened considerably.

couldn't resist, took the mother road, that great spine that along with the cn made the provinces a nation - of course there is no train on the rock at all anymore. got on at kilometre 0 and when the 1/2 km to portugal cove road and exited. for 15 seconds all of canada lay in front of me. then i turned off.

parked on a hill in gower street - free for two hours then i move it. headed over to the family barber shop to give tommy doyle the photograph that i took of him and his partner in 1999. then over to wordplay to download the blog. except that i had brought the i-book and forgot the cd in pouch. didn't think, didn't think' didn't think until i was heading back to the car and remembered i could buy a cd.

moved the car. posted some postcards bought my globe and mail, met jim, angela and the two new people for the residency in corner brook - malcolm and sherry - at djangos. he had forgot his camera - digital - they are both painters, he toronto , she taos new mexico. they were too tired to make the trip - transcanada the mother road - from kilometre 0… - so they are staying here for the evening. both vegetarians - she a vegan. she has never been he stayed at the pipe house with his wife who wanted out - i guess that the pipe house is an acquired taste.

went back to wordplay copied burned the cd downloaded. all was right with the world except that felt that the entry was sucky - was all caught up in canada day.

went to auntie crays to buy samosa - had none - bought partridgeberry bread instead. gave the duke a pass. did my shopping at dominion so i am now stocked. passed angela on the way back from pouch - would recognise that volvo anywhere - probably went to pick up dan. angela - by the way paid me a compliment i was shocked. "sticking you with a bunch of foreigners" .

had a dinner party - fried tofu with vegetables, rice. we both pulled out our computers, being men, and his was bigger, 17inch powerbook again someone who uses transport for his web site and a nice organising programme that can make slide shows with the push of a button - ah if only we had a fundraiser instead of a real estate maven.

we, three, looked at each others work mentioned the annapolis group who paint in situ as they were heading off to gros morne. and then had a walk around pouch - passing number 28 again this time i could see inside.

it is midnight. to-morrow the transcanada - the mother road the spine of the nation from kilometre 0 at torbay road out passed mt pearl, the giant caribou at the whitbourne irving off the avalon, through come-by-chance, traversing the bonavista and terra nova national park. slowing down at joey smallwood's birthplace - the father of the mixed blessing of newfoundland. am going to gander.