last holiday, sans peanut ... Days 8 & 9
We drive into Moncton, which for C is like visiting a water treatment plant: low, hot, humming, senseless. Too hot, today. Moncton's citizens seemed bulked up against the experience, buying everything in SuperSize. Our own odyssey takes us to buying lawn chairs at Walmart. Did I mention that we are on vacation? We also visit C's father's family (second family, long story) who are in the process of putting everything they own in the front driveway and selling it. The point of the trip, ostensibly, was to visit her dad but when we find him asleep we just go home.
Don't ask me, I just drive.
Highlight: I find a nice little place for us to have lunch, on St. George, next to a vintage shop. It is very stretchy-neck.
Lowlight: In the evening we visit her sister, who entertains us by having me wrestle a washing machine from the deck to a back bedroom. Needless to say, the machines don't work.
x} C -- bleary-eyed, hair like Maude -- desperately trying to achieve Master First Inspector (or something), asking "Am I playing too much Clue?" (on her laptop)
x} C, commenting on my three-minute answer when asked about the missing Roman army I was reading about in one of those Amazing-Facts type books, asking "Why do you like that stuff?"
x} The ocean is grey. The colour we all reach for is blue, but really the ocean is grey.
x} So is the sky, most days.
x} I have a theory that Coronation Street is an exercise in nihilism. All that any character does will eventually come to nought, and they'll end up dead or sneaking off in the night. Just ask Vernon.