Moe after his visit to the hairdresser’s 😉
The other side of the below cave- with human silhouettes for scale
Hopewell Rocks from well below the high tide line.
Saturday, 30 August, 2014 -( 15ËšC / 59ËšF @ 11:11 pm )-
It’s been a busy week- Cathi had the week off. Neither one of us was feeling all that good all week. We took Moe to the vet’s to get his matts trimmed away and he was pretty darned good about it until the groomer got the ‘buzzy’ too close to spots where cats want no one to go with a hair trimmer- So- nobody got slashed or shredded and he only refused to talk to us for a couple hours and now he looks like a lion, and he can strut around showing off- Cathi said he was much better in the temperament department after he realized he could lick his fur without anything pulling.
On Friday we drove to the Bay of Fundy. The map we got with a visitor’s guide stunk. The GPS wanted to send us straight east to Moncton and then down. Friends, and daughters, had told us to take the seaside route, down to Sait John and turn left. We got going a little bit late. The map looked like we were about to make a wrong turn and I told Cathi we needed an exit that the map looked like we needed to take. So we only got a little bit lost, and the most direct route to ‘Hopewell Rocks’ had a few too many construction sites along the way, but we did stop for some home-made ice cream and made a friend, I think- Nice guy who uses all natural ingredients, he’s 73 years old and looks younger, and he thought I looked younger than I told him I am. I left him a link to a web site and an email address and never thought to ask his name. He lives on the west side of highway 114 a bit north west of Alma.
We got to the rocks at twenty minutes to closing and the light was not so good when we got there. But I think I got one decent photo to replace another photo at the top of one of my blogs and that worked out okay, I think.
Today I felt lousy and had strange fever dreams, one of Tony Soprano’s enforcers came around to axe me what was the hold up with getting my mother out of the house she had sold to a nice little old Italian lady who had bad friends and no patience. And a melancholy girl who had been kicked out of her home by her mother, supported by her grandmother for a couple years and then told not to come home without a job or money for rent and grandma and aunty didn’t care what she had to do to get it, wanted to know if she could make a lot of money posing nude for a photographer and I guess I looked like a photographer and I felt awful for her and gave her the keys to my travel trailer (In the dream I had a small travel trailer- not the tiny- made in Canada ones, but small and when I got her there she was afraid to stay in it alone, so I slept at the kitchen table while she slept in the bed and I don’t know how that turned out because I woke up.
The photos did not load where they should have- and when I tried to click on one to try to see if I could move it down and write above it- everything else on this page disappeared.
But I got it back, I can live with this- so I guess IÂ can’t complain too loudly-
(—AAAaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggh!)
~~~~~Jim
Doug Otterson
draelen
Jim Wellington
Jim