Saturdays in Nova Scotia might include a trip into the market with step-dot. It would include grabbing a Globe & Mail on the way home to read while munching on eccles cakes. Some chores might happen and a walk either at High Head or on the back trail for certain. Would people come for dinner? That would be nice. What will we make? Fish soup, fresh bread and a raspberry faux ice cream? Or a full-on extravagant curry feast? Maybe something French - bistro fare - with a pear tatin for dessert..Here - no market, no step-dot, no Globe & Mail. No eccles cakes, chores done when fella is at work (after all!). Yes, to a walk - perhaps the fella will take the pooch as I do it everyday and she likes a different sort of day too. Anyone for dinner? Unlikely but not out of the question. What will we have? Whatever we don't have to drive into Goose on a blessedly drive free day for the man. Cod au gratin or a chili? Sure.
It still FEELS like Saturdays around here though. Slightly lazy and a lovely no-big-deal feeling.
I still have the dear guy about, head in a book, while Bella yawns (he took her on a good long walk). I just made lots and lots of envelopes out of old calendars - extremely satisfying for some inexplicable reason.
Perhaps I'll suggest something outrageous.
A drive to the dump to see if the bears have come out for a mid-winter snack?
No - he's going to go to the barber, here in North West, for a much needed hair cut.
Can I come and watch?
Yes, it has come to that.
Jan - Life can be so different in different places, can't it? It's not just a matter of getting used to a new home (with it's different aura, smells, 'personality,' etc.) or new scenery. It's getting used to new habits and customs.It must be even more of a change for people who move to a different country where everyone speaks not just a different dialect but a whole different language.
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