CHEZ MARTIN AND GABRIELLE WITHOUT THEM (thanks)

Pouch was different. Driving out the stress - even though I had no place to stay – was relieved. It was Patricia’s birthday and Lori Butler was preparing a meal at Martin and Gabrielle’s. We headed to the school to pick up Samantha I went out on the roof to look at the village and make some snaps, went over to drop off posters to Sam Newell.

Coming back Jim and Sam were already over there leaving us with the beer, and bourbon so instead of walking we had to drive the 500 metres to Sullivan’s Loop.

Walked into the house and greeted Paul Kennedy saying “Mr. Enright a pleasure as always. When are you leaving?” Kennedy always gets Sullivan’s Loop before I do.

IT was a great evening, while Martin and Gabrielle’s place is my second favourite place in Pouch, it is great for dinner parties as we can sit on the front deck and look over the ocean which we did.

Again not having to deal with ‘tute effetes who can only talk about talking about art here I was with people who actually had lives and where all manners of subjects were brought up. Kennedy and I talked a bit about Canadian baseball, he pointed out the boat that Ted the next door neighbour finished. He was again trying to finish another book and to do so this time had locked himself in the back bedroom so as not to stare at the sea. Jim and Samantha were off somewhere, Lori was busy in the kitchen but also would come out to chat while serving hors d’oeuvres. IT would have been great anywhere but in the waning light of Sullivan’s Loop it was even better.

Dinner was spectacular – with Patricia comment on the correct use of pepper. Found out that there is a farmers market in Portugal Cove which has great produce – something that I shard to come by on the Rock.

It was even more spectacular as Lori had only started to cook about six months ago when she was hired by a restaurant in St. John’s to chop vegetables. The last time I saw her she was working in the gallery.

Despite what I coming up, Pouch is special, while I liked the changing light hitting the mountains from the house in Woody Point and the dramatic changes of weather in Gros Morne, I still like the moonrise over the North Atlantic. Like that line where water hits sky. Like looking around being able to name the people in the houses. During the evening walked outside simply to have a look at Pouch and the night sky

We drove back to St. john’s I - having only a Guinness - was the designated driver. Paul offered to put us all up but there were more people than bedrooms or beds. It was strange driving in the opposite direction heading toward the city and looking for Stavenger Drive rather than the rise, pharmacy, the curve then all of Cape St. Francis being revealed in front of you.

Back at Jim’s Mum place at 3AM feeling that something wasn’t right and how could I get Kennedy out of the place.