In the weeds; at the restaurants

Perhaps I should change the name of this newsletter to the Ramblings of an Old Geezer, or something like that. I am just going on these days about this and that, but I gather a few of you actually enjoy that. So for now I’ll stay the course, and write about what interests me, how we live, and so forth. After all, all of it captures what it’s like for us off the grid.

It’s not nuts-and-bolts, here’s the solar setup you need. That’s something I can’t tell you as it’s dependent upon the size of your build and so forth. But in terms of living the lifestyle, I can capture ours for you and give you a taste of our daily lives, mundane as they are at points, and as adventurous and joyous at other times. So without further preamble, let’s plunge into the weeds.

Did I say weeds? Because partially that’s what this newsletter is about.

I believe back in early spring another Substack writer wrote about dealing with weeds. Given she’s further down south it’s not surprising she’d be dealing with them earlier.

Weeds are normally part of the deal. You carve a small patch out of the wilderness, then you have to expect they’ll come as part of the package. But this year is unreal. We’ve fallen into an extreme rain followed by hot hot heat cycle, and the plant life loves it.

Us, not so much.

The weeds are springing up like…well, weeds. An abundance of weeds.

Frankly, weeding seems like a lost cause this year. When you get 283 mm (yes, you read that number correctly) of rain followed by a couple of scorching humid days, all the vegetation just goes bonkers.

Of course, it’s not all bad. Since we moved here three years ago, Steph and I have worked at creating some side gardens, and one of them reminds me a lot of J.EH. MacDonald’s The Tangled Garden. I took a couple of shots today, and I love the jumble of plants, flowers and apparently snakes and toads all together in there. I envision a couple of acres like that eventually.

No matter that during his lifetime, MacDonald’sTangled Garden was dismissed as “an incoherent mass of colour, and “too large for the relative importance of its subject.”

And did I say rain?

Apparently, we’ve had ark-loads more than the normal amounts of rain this spring. Everywhere else in Canada, the sun has shone, the blue sky glittered, and here sheets of rain have plummeted down amidst the bleak grey skies.

Now we’re three days into August (at the time of writing), and everyone is wondering what happened to summer. Steph said, it’s like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly the mornings are cool, and Autumn is already in the air.

Not that we’re complaining. Apparently, the Maritimes just experienced its warmest July on record in spots, while globally the same month was also the hottest.

No matter which way you view it, weather is top of mind; I’m slowly making my way through John Vaillant’s Fire Weather: The Making of a Beast. The latter is all about the 2016 Fort McMurray wildfire, which seems as relevant as ever given the wildfires that struck Upper Tantallon, Shelburne and elsewhere early this year.

Local love: Warm, yes, but the tourists love it

We decided to go for dinner Wednesday night, August 2, given it marked the start of a five-day holiday for me, a stretch of time I’ve not had in a long time. We headed out to one of our favourite spots, the Knot Pub.

Imagine our surprise when we arrived to see the parking lot jammed with cars. Inside was no better. In the corner of the pub a small Celtic band was entertaining the locals (the Knot is the place for locals in town). The waitress told us we’d have an hour wait for a table. Whoa!

It was already 6:30 p.m. We had not anticipated this. We ventured further into town, deciding we might try our luck at Shipwright Brewing. Now, we’d recently eaten at the revamped Shipwright’s not long ago, and found an extensive menu of beers and ciders with a fantastic number of pizza offerings. Having tested the mushroom pizza previously, we found it to be as tasty as it looked.

But again, a 45-minute wait. Great for business, bad for us.

Finally, we gave in and headed over to Lightship Brewing, which we knew from experience would have seats. Even Lightship was jammed, and judging from the number of drinks crossed off the chalkboard had been much busier earlier.

Still, we had the mushroom pizza and eating al fresco enjoyed the smokiness of the wood-fired dough. There’s something about dining outdoors that brings out the nuances of the flavours.

Beyond that, it’s good to see the streets bustling with people, lined up for a chance to nosh. If it makes my previous dire prediction that we might lose a few restaurants this year fall by the wayside, I’m all for it.

What I’m reading

Quite a mixed bag at the moment, actually. I’m having difficulty concentrating (which brings to mind that great XTC song - “When you’re near me I have difficulty standing upright,” thanks to an ongoing bout of chemo brain. So I have started at least half-a-dozen and am just rotating through them in no particular order.

Some of them are old (another astute musicologist would catch a Brian Eno song in the first half of this sentence as well), and some are new.

Outside Magazine’s The First 20 Years has dated well indeed. Some of the best essayists, not just writing on the outdoors and natural world, but in general, may be found in this volume. Gathered together the luminaries include E. Anne Proulx, Susan Orlean, Jane Smiley, Barry Lopez, Edward Abby, Jonathan Raban, Jim Harrison, and Thomas McGuane, to name a few. Immerse yourself in their remarkable adventures.