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At about 8AM I decide it is time to start my day but hear no stirring from jb upstairs. I try to sneak up and head out the door to Bruce’s to see if I still having the standing of a free coffee.

-why are you up so early?
I have no answer for that.
JB gets up offers me coffee – I am shocked as he has never drunk it – talk about evil twin – but there is a coffee maker and I make some while he has his tea.

It is a strange time as we catch up on the 18 months of me being away but it doesn’t seem like it.

I noticed it when I came in. Usually I tear up seeing the rock. I went on deck of the Leif Erickson before dawn to see the lights of Port-aux-Basques, flying I am cranking my neck like everyone else. This time however, I was unsure. 16 months away… I should be happier but i fear things have changed.

I reassured myself heading up route 20 – Liddy’s in Torbay, Martin’s Convenience, the Irving Gas Bars, etc. all present and accounted for.

But now JB was living in Pouch, what would that do to my relation with St. John’s – what excuse would I have to go to the Duke – oh yeah I don’t need an excuse. Where would I buy my books? He is happy in Pouch hardly goes into the city or goes in once a month and makes a day of it. Cannot imagine that. I need my…I have listed my vices associated with the capital many times.

Two hours of catching up. I now needed to put myself in order. Get into Martin and Gabrielle’s, buy food and feel at home again.

-Let me tell you about the car. The fuel gauge doesn’t work you get about 400km per tank, it has about 200 to go but I don’t fill it up I put $40 into it. The rear passenger tyre has a really slow leak so when it does go, there is a pump that plugs into the lighter and you’ll be good to go – yeah I can see myself in the Barrens now plugging this pump into a lighter. I’ll get the painting out of the back.

Somehow he failed to mention that the front windscreen looked like a spider web.

-How bad was Bolduc’s machine? I ask.

Buy a dozen of cracked eggs from Bruce – they are cheaper and I am going to boil them anyway.

Pick up the key from Elke who says that they are coming to fix the heat on Saturday and she'll need the key back to get in. how Pouch has changed usually we'd just leave the door open.

Heading back to the pipe house I run into Russell who says hello but doesn’t recognise me – I worry - until I come closer then the embrace his retelling of his food poisoning on Boxing Day – the turkey. Tells me about the flag on the tolt which I plan to climb when I am more rested although to-day was perfect for it. I ask if the book is still up there to be signed. He tells me about the bell on the tree in Cape St. Francis that I knew about – and the mini bench and table over in Shoe Cove along the East Coast Trail that I didn’t know about.

Head into to buy food at Dominion and everything is falling into place. It seems that they still develop film and will put the images on a cd. Bagels from the Georgetown Bakery and stamps in Water Street because for some reason Mary at the post office here won’t take off the HST.

Park in Gower Street and walk by the old Wordplay – empty graffitti’ed with posters pasted on the façade. Do another checklist noticing that Duckworth Street looks a bit run down. More tagging more empty shops. There is a new Japanese fusion restaurant.

Spy at the Ship Inn pass the Duke – no too early and am too tired. My mouth waters as I pass Ziggy Peelgood’s and think ah the post card series will photograph real ikons of St. John’s. I decide against a big zig saving it for soaking up the alcohol later in the stay. I start the post card series with the poutine stand that is always in George Street.

Chat with the people in the post office as the clerk was new and didn’t know about the HST refund for stamps going to the states – have to buy five dollars worth and have to put them on the letters in front of the worker.

Mention Pouch and she says she’ll ring. I beg her not to as Mary frightens me. She was the first person I had a conversation with in 1999 and the beginning of the photographing of the people here – I reckoned if I could do it with her it would be easy from then on.

Wandered to one of the many mile ones of the Trans Canada and remember that I had forgot coffee.

Back at the pipe house meet the painter whose boyfriend used my snaps for his band’s website. We have tea and make a note to myself to drink more as a warming factor.

Thought that I could deal with the cold. The first time I was here in the lower studio of the pipe house I thought that I would freeze to death and couldn’t wait for Hansen to leave so that I could have the place to myself and move upstairs where it was much warmer. The lower studio was only warmed by the wood fire and learned quickly how to work it.

I knew that the furnace wasn’t working at Sullivans Loop but there were baseboard heaters in the main part and I thought that if I left the bathroom and bedroom doors opens I could heat the house aided by the wood stove.

Oddly it was a warm day here, 4C, rained a bit wandered about in a sweatshirt. I simply have to keep the same thing on when inside.

It is cold and damp. How things have changed as the both floors of the pipe house are warm even though JB complains. He was facing the ocean laptop on top of the blanket over his legs, beer to the side – looked foreign Nova Scotian, I think.

I also noticed that the mounds of firewood that used to be in the basement and under the porch are down to three logs. Was cooking a lot. stoking the fire but in the end, I couldn’t get the bedroom warm and fend off the damp. Headed back over to get the car from Jim to buy a space heater when he had one. I found another hidden so I can sleep and take a shower without turning blue.

My fascination with documenting wood piles no longer has an esoteric bend as I look longingly at Ted Sullivan’s stock just over on his property line.