The Tread-Gripped Egg

Painting stones and leaving them in the woods for others to find is apparently a new interest for many. I couldn’t resist bringing this one home. I’ll leave it in some far-away place behind a cactus.
Summer drifts away above the skylight over my desk.

While cracking eggs for breakfast I came on one coated with small calcium nodules. My first thought was “That must’ve bloody hurt!” Tread-gripping is the gritty material applied to slippery surfaces. It’s more abrasive than course sandpaper. Now the chickens are trying it out. A good grippy egg is a great idea. They are much easier to throw. Free-range organic sport eggs. Cluck you!

“Polly wants a spark plug.” This stunningly beautiful macaw casually appeared at the auto parts counter.
Yeah I know…same old view.
I never get tired of it. It is like having an ever-changing painting inside the same frame.
Just another old fart with an old truck and an old camper. It isn’t a sailboat, but it still holds a lot of dreams. This newest acquisition may lead to an entire new blog. I’ll keep you posted.

While cleaning the barbecue yesterday I spread out the latest local newspaper and discovered an article about the portable toilet that has been installed on main street. This is the same street which is alleged to have been awarded as the best main street in Canada. I promptly sent off a letter to the editor wondering why we don’t have a proper public washroom downtown and why there is an open toilet in the heart of town during a pandemic. Describing a lack of local lateral thinking I ranted on to describe other examples of that thoughtlessness (In my opinion) and then punched the ‘send’ button. Of course I should have stuck to my single issue and let the letter ferment a few minutes before sending it but in the heat of my moment… It’s a covid mask for me! Actually the editor liked the letter and let me edit it as I should have in the first place. One of the joys of a small town newspaper.

The mayor’s office.
On main street.
Civic pride. I guess it looks good if you’ve got to go.

Another joy of this small town is a morning walk in the park. Everyone (Well… except an old dufus yesterday) loves Jack and greeting him. In the perfect climate of mid-morning, not too hot or cold, folks gather in groups in the park. With respectful social distances they practise their yoga and tai chi. Some folks sit in their portable chairs and chat, perhaps with knitting they’ve brought. Others read to each other. The view of the harbour is always grand, even from the leash-free area where other folks let their dogs interact happily. I think ahead to the cold blustery winter days and all the dark news of these times and try my best to absorb all the good energy on these end days of summer.

As Jack and I were walking along the rail line I found an empty Pinky Winky box. At first I thought it was something you drank, or some sort of candy. Turned out to be fireworks! Hmmmm.
C-GONE      One of my fantasties. The things I could do with this airplane! This is a Trident Trigull circa 1973. Yet another Canadian aviation fiasco. The new company had 43 orders but went bust after building 3. It’s a classic story which goes on the shelf beside other great Canadian aviation technology like the Avro Arrow, the Avian Gyroplane, the found Centennial, the EH101 helicopter. Check out the paint job hiding under the covers.
Thistle honey.

Well, I’m no addict to Facebook and often refer to it as Assbook. That says enough I think.  But I took an hour out at midday today to watch a friend’s live evening concert from his home near Whitby in Yorkshire UK. Richard Grainger is a wonderful singer/songwriter with themes about the working man, the fisherman and whaler, common folk in general, and life on the edge of the North Sea. If you loved Stan Rogers you’ll love Richard’s music. I certainly do. You can learn about Richard on Facebook and on Youtube and also purchase any of his many splendid albums. As much as I am reluctant to endorse any social media and all its addictive nuances I’m amazed at the notion of attending a live event half-way around the planet. I know, I know, it’s all old school now. When I was a child the notion of having a telephone in your home was still considered something of a novelty. They were complete with rotary dial and twisty cords. A private phone line was decadent. Now telephone books have been relegated to museums. All the photos in this blog were taken with my mobile telephone. I’ve no idea what all else my “device” can do. Fossil!

Who’d a thunk?

Never Quit! Not as easy as it sounds; I know. These roots have decided to try growing the other way.

Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.” William Shakespeare

Author: Fred Bailey

Fred is a slightly-past middle age sailor /, writer / photographer with plenty of eclectic hands-on skills and experiences. Some would describe him as the old hippy who doesn't know the war is over. He is certainly reluctant to grow up and readily admits to being the eternal dreamer. He has written several books including two novels, 'The Keeper' and 'Storm Ecstasy,' as well as 'The Water Rushing By', 'Sins Of The Fathers', 'The Magic Stick', as well as an extensive inventory of poetry, essays, short stories, anecdotes and photographs. His first passion is the ocean, sailboats, voyaging and all those people who are similarly drawn to the sea. He lived aboard and extensively cruised the BC Coast on 'Seafire' the boat he refitted to go voyaging, to explore new horizons both inner and outer. This blog was about that journey and the preparations for it. Circumstances prevailed which forced the sale of his beloved vessel. Now on a different tack, the voyage continues. If you follow this blog your interest may provide some of the energy that helps fuel the journey. Namaste Contact me at svpaxboat@gmail.com

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