The Turning Point

So much has happened...

A week ago Friday, I made the decision to leave the wonderful comfort I'd found in Yarmouth and to continue on with my journey. The friendships I'd forged and the lives I'd touched, and have touched me, would remain behind, at least for now, while I continued to search for whatever it is that set me on this path in the first place. That voice that's urged me along from the beginning, still remained and I decided it was time to listen again.

I can not begin to express my gratitude to everyone who welcomed me into their hearts and their lives while I searched for meaning in my own. I will always be especially grateful to Carla. She was the first in Yarmouth to embrace me and to accept me for who I am. In her care and her presence, I felt truly special. Yarmouth, and especially the house on Cliff Street, will always signify a magical turning point in my life.

In writing my online journal, I've made every attempt to be as forthcoming as possible, often sharing many intimate details of my thoughts and emotions as I've experienced life on the road. As my most critical reader, I expect nothing less, and as the author, I feel an obligation to continue sharing openly and accurately as I have from the beginning, however difficult that may be for some of those looking on. So, here goes...

On Tuesday, I'll be riding the Cat from Yarmouth, Nova Scotia across to Bar Harbor, Maine.

Last night I awoke to the sound of raccoons chattering in the woods not far from the tent. M was sleeping soundly, bundled up in her sleeping bag next to me. Thoughts about what had happened, and what was to come, were flooding my head and I needed to get it down on paper, or at least try. My decision to leave Nova Scotia and to draw my Canada experience to a conclusion, was fueled largely by my experiences with her. We met only eight days ago, but have formed a very tight bond and friendship. She'd already planned to take the Cat and tour New England and, in addition to wanting to continue on with her, the offer to ride along was too tempting to pass up. We're now travelling back to Yarmouth from Liverpool, she's hitchhiking as she's done since arriving in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, and I'm cycling as usual. We're meeting at Carter's Beach as soon as I get away from this computer and back on the road. She got a ride in Liverpool about thirty seconds after we said goodbye.

Act Three is hopefully setting up a wonderful conclusion to this saga.

Only time will tell...

Cheers

~B

I'm in Liverpool...

...and there's not a single Beatle in sight! Well, I am still in Nova Scotia afterall.

It's a beautiful sunny day and I'll be pausing in the area for a few days to take stock and decide in which direction my compass points. I've learned so much on this adventure and have met so many wonderful people. My journey has always been more about the journey than it ever was about the destination. At some point Forrest stopped running and just went on with his life. Am I there yet? A little more time will tell.

A special thanks to Jan and Conrad for their wonderful hospitality and friendship. Here's a link to a small album of my brief stay with them.

Cheers! ~B

Act Three

Click the photo to enlarge

The Saint Christopher medal is a thoughtful gift from a very dear friend.

First Camp - On the Outskirts of Yarmouth









Second Camp - An East Pubnico Cemetary

The Three Questions

My friend Sarah loaned me her copy of The Three Questions by Jon J. Muth. It's an illustrated book based on a short story by Leo Tolstoy. The story goes...

"There was once a boy named Nikolai who sometimes felt uncertain about the right way to act." He wanted to be a good person, but was unsure how to accomplish his goal. Nikolai had three important questions...

- When is the best time to do things?

- Who is the most important one?

- What is the right thing to do?

"If only I could find the answers to my three questions, then I would always know what to do." Nikolai, asked his three best friends, Sonya the Heron, Gogol the Monkey,and Pushkin the Dog, the three questions. Unfortunately he got conflicting and confusing advice from his friends. Recognizing their limitations in advising him, Nikolai sought out the advise of the wise old turtle Leo. "He has lived a very long time. Surely he will know the answers I am looking for". The turtle never answers him directly, but when a storm comes up and two Panda bears are in danger, Nikolai dashes to their aid without a thought for himself. In his action to help the bears, he finds answers. This is a gentle tale, told well. Muth's illustrations are graceful and elegant, and beautifully enhance the many moods of the story. Based on a short story by Leo Tolstoy, who is probably best-known for War and Peace and Anna Karenina, The Three Questions succeeds in getting children to think of being in of service to others, and to realize that, contrary to what advertisers would have us believe, life isn't about getting; it's about doing.*

In pondering the three questions, Nicolai became transfixed on finding meaning based on what seemed most relevant to him. In doing so, he became focused on himself. When Leo, the old turtle, became tired working on his garden, Nicolai offered to take over, sparing the old turtle the burden of digging with the heavy shovel, and when the Panda's were found to be in danger, Nicolai sprung into action to rescue the bears. In doing all this, he found great satisfaction and tranquility within himself. The three questions, on which he'd been previously transfixed, disappeared into the mist of his contentment. In helping others, the questions about himself no longer mattered.

It's a wonderful book. I was just chatting with my sister Amy and she told me that she has it for her girls. Here's Amy (she's going to kill me for this!).

The moments and periods of my life when I've felt the most alive and connected to my rightful place in the universe have been when I've offered myself in service to others. When I'm making breakfast for Carla or her couch surfers, when I'm teaching photography to my students in Vermont, when I'm babysitting my nieces, and especially many years ago when I was nurturing and caring for my own children. The act of service is so central to the core of my identity. When I'm connected to others through service, I excel. The times when I've felt that my service was being squandered and not contributing to improving the condition of the planet, I've felt "out of sync". A good example of this is when I worked in the automobile business. If I did a good job, the owner of the dealership might be able to acquire a nicer collection of snowmobiles - not my idea of contributing to the greater good. In finding the right place to serve, where I'm needed most, I will have found my home. Of this I am certain.

Anyway, that's it. Great book, great lesson.

Cheers!

~B

*Partially excerpted from various Amazon reviews

Torn

Can anyone recommend a good genetics lab? I need five copies of myself to leave behind with various people. I will of course need to keep the original so I can make additional copies as the need arises. ~B

More Photos!!!

Click here for The Great Frog Safari Photo Album

Click here for the Nova Scotia Misc Photo Album

It's Go Time...

On Sunday, August 31st at 10am, I roll - Act Three begins.

I'm updating my CouchSurfing profile as we speak so I'll be meeting people along the way instead of being the solitary cyclist. The most likely scenario, at this moment, is that I'll head out along the South Shore, then up through Halifax and on into Cape Breton and points unknown! Well, actually it's all on the map and I guess the people who live there know about it ;-)

That's the plan anyway. Stay tuned....

~B

Good Coffee and a Muffin

I'm sitting here in Carla's kitchen enjoying a cup of freshly brewed Tim Hortons fine ground coffee (in the red can). I brewed up a pot to go with Gina's freshly baked blueberry muffins, as soon as I got back from the downtown where I had an appointment with Diane; she's advising me on Nova Scotia's immigration process. I'm still on the fence about this, but I do want to keep in touch with her if I ever decide to start the process. Time will tell.

I just got off the phone with Carla. She was on a train headed for Boston when I called. She's hosted close to a dozen CouchSurfers and has decided to experience surfing from the other side of the couch for a few days. She's coming back on the Cat on Sunday. It's weird having her there, while I'm up here. It's just feels backwards. I probably would have gone with her if I'd had the cash at my disposal, but I'm also needed here, what with helping out at the market and with projects that need to be done around the house, not to mention my other social obligations with the girls here in Yarmouth. Life would be so much easier if there was more than one of me. Oh, well.

I got a comment on yesterday's post from my friend Taryn suggesting that I had "set forth the premise to a great story, then left out the story part". She's right, I have been dancing around certain real life issues in my posts. If I were writing my thought in a journal for my own use, I'd be telling a much more specific and cohesive story of my life on the road. When it's just me that I'm writing about, I have only to ask myself where the boundaries lie with respect to what I'm willing to share, and what I choose to keep hidden. When I'm narrating my experiences with other people, I can only suppose where those boundaries might exist for them. The thoughts flow, along with the willingness to share, but often times I'm cut short by my need to respect the privacy of the one's who've entrusted me with their secrets. In dancing around this obstacle, I sometimes find even myself confused and my message convoluted. It only really makes sense if I disclose that .........(fill in the blank). You see my dilemma? Often times in business, two sets of books are kept, one for the taxman and one that more accurately reflects the true state of affairs. I need to start keeping a second set of books. One where I can continue to share my thoughts with anyone interested in looking on, and the other to chronicle the keys that will unlock the true meaning behind some of my ramblings. I have decided to be more forthcoming when writing the shared portion of my experiences. So often I find myself wanting to spin a certain thought or event in such a way so as not to reflect poorly on myself, however that may be. I catch myself thinking "don't got there, you're going to look like a fruit loop". That's often how I conduct the "live" portion of my life, so careful and concerned about how other's might perceive me, that I overly regulate myself and just end up feeling generally uncomfortable, often worried about things that are not actually occurring, but just might be. The therapist of an old friend once referred to me as being "tightly wrapped", she was right. On the other hand, being here in Nova Scotia has instilled in me a strong sense of being loved and accepted in a way that I can't say I've ever experienced before. I do know that I'm loved and accepted by my friends and family, that's a given, but the feeling of self worth that I've gained here, just being Bob, has resulted in a feeling of empowerment and value. Here I feel special, at so many other times in my life I've felt "special" too, but the quotes are the key - they make all the difference. There is a simplicity to life up here that seems to recognize the value in and of a person, that is independent of title or prestige or worldly possessions. I haven't quite nailed it down, but it exists. It also occurs to me that my experience here may be somehow artificial because of the notoriety I've received as a result of this trip and what happened to me in Amherst. I have to wonder when I'm having a conversation with a young woman, for example, who knows my story and has read my thoughts here on the blog, when she's staring at me with an adoring look in her eyes. Is she's turned on by the notoriety, or is it the thoughts and ideas that I've expressed on the blog that give her that look? Or maybe she just thinks I'm hot. I don't actually think it matters, but it would be nice to know, eh? (See how I said I was going to be more frank? BTW, those of you looking for a simple happy travel blog, should just look away). The other aspect of all this that my be "not real" is that I've been living here in Yarmouth without all of the usual "life stuff" that people have to face. I guess in a way, I do have had some real life stuff, since I have been "volunteering" at a local market and doing a bunch of work around the house. I generally conduct a fairly simple life anyway, even when I'm on my own, so maybe that's not such a big issue for me, afterall. I still think about it though.

So what's the point? More honesty, keep another journal for myself in case I ever decide to squeeze a book out of my lucky adventure, and have another cup of coffee. It's still hot.

Cheers!

~B

An Old Adage

OK, so I woke up this morning and did a brain dump onto the blog. I must admit that, upon reading my thoughts, it appears that I may have been a bit scattered. I've taken the liberty to repair the damage. It ain't perfect, but so what? As I just told my sister Amy, "sometimes I write things just for myself. Just because you get to peer over my shoulder, doesn't mean it's intended to make sense to everyone". Or maybe that's my convenient excuse to cover bad writing, you decide. Anyway, here goes...

There is an old adage that suggests that absence makes one's heart grow fonder. Is this based on an observation of the reality that the lack of something simply increases the desire for it, or is there actually a physically transformative effect that happens to ones internal organs when a particular loved one is away. The Roman poet Sextus Propertius gave us the earliest form of this saying "Always toward absent lovers love's tide stronger flows". The contemporary version appears first as the title of an anonymous English poem in 1602. It wasn't until the 19th century that the phrase began to be used more widely, with Thomas Haynes Bayly's song Isle of Beauty, published posthumously in 1850: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Isle of Beauty, Fare thee well!" I also like the more humorous version: "Absinthe makes the fart grow stronger".

It occurred to me this morning that "out of sight, out of mind" is an equally astute, but possibly conflicting, observation. They both reflect an actual physical process that occurs within humans, but when combined and applied to our own situations, they may also tell us something about ourselves and our relationships. What does it say about us when one expression rings more true than the other. Does the "absence" crowd have more of a firm footing in the romantic world where they believe so strongly that love will prevail and that whatever event or relationship they're rooting for is meant to be? Conversely, do the "sight" believers all suffer from some form of relationship ADD, unable to pay attention and remain focussed on their loved ones long enough and intently enough to avoid being sidelined by distraction? A pretty girl walks by and the head naturally turns, but instill the focus that a tested and truly committed relationship brings and viola - stationary head. I guess it largely depends on one's commitment to the object of one's desire. The absence crowd subscribe to the concept of destiny, believing with all their heart that this is meant to be. I fall quite a bit in this camp, the one that believes in fate and destiny and romantic stories. I usually opt for the love stories at the video store. I like a good tale, a happy ending, and a good cry. I usually get that from any displays of tenderness, especially when it's expressed across generations, fathers and sons, great grandmothers and little girls. But the romantic stories, the really good ones done with solid acting, get me every time. I also like long walks on the beach, but I still feel strongly about out of sight, out of mind. I thinks it's quite possible to exist in both worlds. Living for romance, yet protective and demanding of a certain minimum standard of treatment. "Yes, I'm willing to die for true love, but... not if it has to hurt this much".

In absence, there is no difficulty except for what's felt from being apart, there is no bad behavior, no harsh words, no boring moments, no discomfort at a loved one's behavior, it's just absence. It's like getting a free pass: "wait here and think fondly of me while I'm away and all of the difficulties fade, and you're left wanting and missing me". What is the absence for in the first place? I was in a relationships where I've felt completely absent from that person in the same room. Where I felt like I was off on my own, out of the way and all within the distance of a short drive and a phone call. Yes, absence does have the effect of making us feel like we're missing out, I sometimes get that way over chocolate, but absence is, I think, the larger issue, not the fondness of one's heart, but the absence. People spend so much of our lives working long hours and running frantically between errands, often for things that they really don't need - their lives are just constructed in such a way that these things have become default necessities. In running and working, we loose sight of the necessity of being present to the ones we love. That's when out of sight comes into play. I sometimes go for days between thoughts of home. I'm so engrossed with all that's happening here. I haven't called loved ones as often as I should simply because I'm distracted by life. I need to work on that. It is possible, however, to spend too much time and energy letting our hearts grow fonder. There is a point at which we stand up and demand an end to absence and go forward towards a life of presence. Where we get to live our lives actually in the days we've dreamed rather than always having them exist in the future.

I like old adages. They tell us something about ourselves and of the wisdom of generations.

It's a beautiful day in Yarmouth. I'm going for a bike ride.

Cheers!

~B

Un Tres Petit Déjeuner Aujourd'hui

A little lite breakfast today anyone?

For an appetizer, we'll be serving shark. Here's a link to Carla's Shark Scramble Article and Photo Essay. I unfortunately missed it while I was working on a website, but it looked like a very interesting event. Yarmouth and the surrounding area hosts a lot of activities that makes life here more enjoyable. Check it out.

For our main course you're sure to enjoy some delicious scenery and a wonderful boat ride from Yarmouth to Pubnico. Steve and Joan brought their boat down for the Shark Scramble and we hitched a ride for the return to her home port. On the way we stopped at Deep Cove Island, one of the prettiest place I've ever been, and Harris Island, both are active lobstering villages. Bon Appetite!

And finally, for dessert, we're having Donair, a traditional Nova Scotia dish. Actually it's a SUPER DONAIR. We had these for dinner last night. Carla got take out from Jake's and when she got back to the house she handed me a sandwich the size of a small baby. Get in my belly! It was wrapped in foil and was some kinda delicious. Donairs are only available in Nova Scotia. In fact, as part of a campaign to promote the province, the Nova Scotia tourism folks have placed signs in Toronto that read simply "Donairs" and pointing east.

Uhmm, you've got some sauce on the corner of your mouth. Napkin? ~B

Act Three Opens...

The wheels have begun turning again; the one's in my head, that is, not the ones on my bike, but I suspect they too will begin spinning in earnest shortly.

My stay here in Yarmouth has been nothing short of magical. The people I've encountered and the insights into myself that I've gained will forever shape the remaining course of my life. The 64 thousand dollar question is what's next? My screenwriters ;-) may choose to write this differently, but as I see it, Act One begins with some unexpected life disappointments in a small town in Southern Vermont resulting in a long and wonderful bike ride up the coast of Maine - through New Brunswick - and on into Nova Scotia. At one point, midway through Act One, our lead character's journey is abruptly halted, his bicycle and belongings stolen leaving him effectively "homeless" in a strange land (cue the dramatic music). Next we see our lead, let's call him Bob, peering through the front window of a theatre in Amherst Nova Scotia where he meets the delightful and mysterious Bette (who later introduces him to retired Chief Librian Beverly - both will be very important in subsequent scenes), it continues with a brief appearance by Johnny Cash, a media circus and outpouring of generosity, and concludes with a wonderful series of vignettes in an old Victorian farm house.

Act Two opens with a difficult ride on a new bicycle through a beautiful valley, then a "coincidental" meeting on a bridge and a swift ride with a fellow traveller. It really gets rolling when our leading man meets Carla, the mythical siren of Yarmouth, a whimsical and captivating pixie with hair and a spirit like the tangled and untamed Sargasso Sea. Our play continues with more delightful vignettes in and around Carla's lovely historic home, then a very tender sequence of scenes with a love interest, more than a few additional colorful local and travelling characters, lots of phone calls and emails with friends and family, and then, wait for it...Bob's realization that the journey must continue! Act Two finally closes with a sad and tearful goodbye on a windswept dock. Brilliant!

After a brief intermission, where you should all help yourself to some refreshments (graciously provided by local Girl Scout troop number 377), we'll be starting Act Three.

Please be back in your seats when the curtain rises.

Again, thank you all for attending.

Cheers! ~B

Running Late!

Hey, just a quick post today. Carla and I have been riding our bicycles every morning. Actually she's been riding my fancy new Raleigh Mojave 8.0 and I've been riding her...ummm...bike...yeah that's it, her "bike". Actually it ends up being a much better workout because that bike has a mere 10 or 12 speeds compared the 27 that I'm used to on the Raleigh.

Today we did just shy of 30km at a really good clip, at one point getting lost on a rocky muddy dirt road way off course. Carla's getting really good. I need to start eating more Wheaties if I'm going to keep up. Today it's homemade blueberry muffing for breatkast! Yikes, I'm running late. Gotta go! ~B

Photo by Jacques Marcoux

A Call To Couches

This is an email that I've been sending out to friends. I thought it might be a good idea to cast a larger net, as it were. So...

Hey, I have something to ask you, actually it's more of a favor or proposition than it is just a question. Sabrina from Switzerland has been with us here in Yarmouth for nine days now and is scheduled to leave on the Cat to Portland tomorrow afternoon. She'll be staying there for two days, then into Boston for the weekend, and will then be heading to NYC on Monday. Because of her extreme care of screening prospective hosts, she's having trouble finding a place to stay, where she can experience both Boston and NYC on her way to Ohio. I was wondering if you can think of anyone who would be willing to host her for the weekend in Boston, or for a few days next week in NYC, and maybe show this lovely Swiss girl some of those cities. I know it sounds like an imposition, but I assure you Sabrina is a delight, she's very neat, is great with pets and kids, and is a fabulous cook. I feel that I know her extremely well and would frankly trust her with my life if needed. She's couchsurfing but is having trouble finding hosts in larger cities. She can always do hostels, but you can only stay there for a day or two and she's hoping to experience the cities a little more than that. She was in Chicago last month and really liked it there. Anyway, she's 24 and has limited funds. I know what that's like and would really like to help her. Thanks. ~B

I'm hoping that someone I know, that I forgot to email, will speak up and offer to participate in the adventure. You can email me directly at bobviens@gmail.com. I know it's a longshot, but you never know. Besides, it makes for an easy blog post, and since I'm either helping out at the market, or riding a lobster boat with Sabrina down from Pubnico to Yarmouth Harbour to get ready for the Shark Scramble, I'll be quite busy. Cheers! ~B

Once Upon a Rainstorm

A lot has happened in the last week that I could write about. I could mention helping out at the market, or the weekend at Brenda's where a soon-to-be-delivered baby was doing somersaults, or about getting to know someone special and sharing life experiences. I could tell you about the movie Once we watched Sunday night and how it always leaves a distinct hue on my world for days after, or of the wonderful Birchermuesli Sabrina made for lunch. I could even tell you about the comment I deleted from the blog last week suggesting I "stop clinging to other people and get a life of my own", but I won't. Instead I'll just talk about the weather. It's been raining steadily since around noon today. It started during the drive back from Pubnico and has been gaining momentum, along with the occasional boom of thunder, ever since. Today's the first day of significant rain for as long as I can remember, maybe even since the downpours up in Amherst.

I usually love rainy days. My rule is that in order for it to be a good day, there has to be something coming out of the sky, sunshine or rain, even fog qualifies. Overcast gray days need not apply. Rainy days are ideal for curling up on the couch and napping, or spending the day in bed with your sweetie. If you're fortunate enough to have an indoor fireplace, rainy days are ideal for building a good fire and chasing away the damp chill that often accompanies the rainfall. When it rains, I mean really rains, everything green seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief. The trees, the grass, the vegetables and flowers in the garden, all replenish in the rain, they relax away their stiff dry shells that have accumulated during hot dry days. They all take a deep breath and exhale the wonderful smell of fresh that we all enjoy after a good shower. Rain is cleansing, it washes away the accumulated grime on streets and houses and leaves everything glossy. The colors intensify along with the smells, and feel of the air. When it rains briefly however, we're left with a microscopic film of mud. Instead of a clean sheet we get grime. A good rain resets the game, gives us a fresh start, makes all things a little more possible. It refills our water barrels, and we in turn water our plants and fill our drinking glasses to water ourselves. When that other thing that comes out of the sky finally shines, the water from our gardens and from our pours and our breath evaporates and returns to the clouds, and the cycle begins again. The cycle of renewal, of cleansing, of fresh starts.

For now, I wish to just sit and watch, as the rain resets the game, for I want to play some more.

~B

Busy B(obby)

Sorry about the delay in posting a fresh, interesting, and exciting update of my trials and tribulations here in Yarmouth Nova Scotia. Yeah, yeah whatever!

I have been busy though. I spent most of my free time this weekend building a new website for a small company in New Hampshire. My friend Gigi hooked me up with the gig, we used to work together and she knew I would eat this assignment right up. So far, so good.

I do have some good stuff to post, maybe later tonight. I haven't had any sleepless nights in awhile, that's often when I've found inspiration to write. Maybe that's a sign of being contented. It's probably more on account of the late night cocktails, but I digress.

To be continued...

Update: Yarmouth

I guess it's time to clarify my thinking as to what I'm doing, and where I'm going, etc. I'm currently staying with Carla here in Yarmouth, helping with her many CouchSurfers and the dogs she gets from her dogsitting service, keeping the house and garden clean and in good repair, helping with meals, and being a friend. I'm also right in the middle of a project with another group of "new friends" helping them get their place in order. Leaving that project undone would be wrong. As a result, I feel like I'm needed here at this particular moment in time, and here I shall stay, until such time that I feel I've completed whatever it is I'm doing. When that time comes, I'll say my goodbye's and continue the travelling part of my journey. For me, the journey is continuing here in Yarmouth.

If anyone out there is reading my posts and hoping for more ongoing tidbits of "travel" info, this blog may, at least for now, be the wrong place to satisfy your travel tidbit appetite. A really good cycling travel site is Crazy Guy On A Bike. I know it's not as interesting reading about a cyclist sitting in one place for a long peroiod of time, but I started this blog as a journal that I could look back on, and also for a good way to keep my family and friends up to date. It's still very much that for me, but I am aware that my "audience" has grown a little since it began. At last count the blog was being read by around 400 people, roughly half in the States and half in Canada. Also, I had to use some of my "trash can" power on a couple of unfortunate comments yesterday. If you're one of "those people" inclined to post anonymous nastygrams, you might enjoy this one.

Here are some of the latest Couch Surfers...

Evan from Townshend Vermont, just outside of Brattleboro! He came off the Cat yesterday and is on his way to a WWOOFing farm outside of Annapolis Royal. He left here this morning with a big "EAST" sign on his backpack. He also has a "PREGNANT" sign if he gets desperate.



Kara from Australia who's on her way to Alaska. She's been travelling for a quite a while and has made her way across much of Canada, as well as a good chunk of the world. She flew out of Halifax the other day on her way to the west coast on the U.S. where she's getting in a car with some friends and driving up to see Alaska. Quite an adventurer!

Elyse, and her travelling companion Zac, both attend university in Amherst Massachusetts, only a half an hour from where I grew up. They were cycling down from, I think, Antigonish and were only here for a quick visit as they had reservations to ride to Portland on the Cat the day after their arrival in Yarmouth. We didn't get a photo of her and Zak so I had to swipe this one off of her facebook.

It's been such a treat being here and getting to know the area and so many wonderful people from Yarmouth and around the world. Here's a parting shot...

Cheers! ~B

Evan, Sabrina, Carla, et Moi

at the Pubnico Wind Farm.

The Sirens of Argyle

Not a bad way to spend a rainy Sunday evening, eh? The party at Brenda's country house in Argyle was fantastic. Before dinner we took a nice walk, in a light drizzle, down to the bay. The view was spectacular! On the way back to the house the rain finally decided to fall, and ended up coming down in buckets. On the menu was a wonderful traditional Acadian rappie pie, a delicious shrimp and scallop scampi, fresh green beans, my own sesame peanut noodles, and an amazing peach cobbler for desert. What a meal! There was a new addition to the cast of Southwest Nova Scotia characters for me. Gina is a genuine Acadian from Pubnico, where the Lobster Crate Run were held, and speaks with the most delightful accent. She got a big kick out of the fact that my name translates as "Bob, come over here", I never thought of it like that before. It's my new nickname. Joe was with us for the first hour but had to get back to Shelburne, so I was stuck having to entertain the girls on my own. It was me and five ladies, count em, five! I managed OK.

I just completed day two helping out at the market. Yesterday they started me off with stocking fruits and vegetables and cleaning up, today I was organizing the receipts, ringing up sales, and doing spreadsheets. I'm a quick study. I've got my hands full though. The lady I'm helping out is very sweet and really needs someone to get her stuff organized. I'm glad to be of assistance.

Two more couch surfers coming in tonight. Sabrina from Switzerland is still here, hopefully for several more days. She's great! I asked Carla if we could keep her, we'll see. Anyway, the new surfers are from Massachusetts, where I grew up. I'm curious to see where from exactly. They won't be here for a couple of hours. Carla made an amazing chili for dinner, we got a preview before she left to tutor a woman from, I think, India. She's helping her with her English so she can pass her nursing exam. What a sweetheart.

OK, I guess that's it for now. Click here for the complete photo album.

Cheers!

~B

Routine Rhymes with Poutine!

Good News! I've cleared one of my hurdles with regard to developing a routine, or "agenda" as was suggested. I won't go into detail, suffice to say I'll be "helping out" at a local market, and in appreciation for my "assistance" I might get a few "bananas". It'll be nice to have a few "bananas" in my pocket (get my drift? -I think "get my drift" is a nautical term). I'm still interested in finding a good volunteer gig working with youth. That's one of the things that I greatly miss about being in Brattleboro and working with In-Sight (if you look at their website, I taught the Intro to Black and White class).

I should ask for your indulgence for Friday's post in which I asked for your thoughts on a recommended course of action. A good friend pointed out that it was bad form, in that I should be listening only to my own heart and doing what I felt I had to do. She's right. So often I feel like the edges of my identity are defined by what I think others might perceive, "am I doing the right thing at his very moment?", "is anyone disappointed in me?", "did I write that last post as well as I could have?" "does this shirt make me look fat?". When I rolled into Amherst, I had a strong sense of accomplishment. The difficulties that I faced there may have strengthened me in some ways, but mostly it left me with an overall sense of ambiguity. The ride down to Yarmouth was extremenly difficult at first. I felt very little sense of mission, like I had on my quest to reach Nova Scotia. At some point, I regained a feeling of purpose and, with a decent head of steam, rode into Southwest Nova and to the bridge where I met Matt. Being here in Yarmouth has been both a blessing and a burden. The people I've met will, in some way, forever change the way in which I navigate my life. Where this journey will lead is hard to say. I know there are some who'd like to see me back on the road, writing about new places and sharing new pictures, other's that tell me to just sit and be still, "you'll figure it out in good time". It's wrong for me to ride out of this place without a clear understanding of how this puzzle piece fits. Until it clicks into place, I shall make the most of life HERE. How's that for sticking to my own guns?

OK, time for a little housekeeping. If you wish to post a nasty or confrontational comment, please include a little more information. I don't need to know your name, but it would be nice to maybe get some idea about you as a person, what similar experiences you've had and how you've dealt with life in difficult times, maybe your occupation, kids, etc. I'm putting in a lot of effort to convey my thoughts and explain my struggles. It would be nice if you'd give me a little more to work with? I do have a little "trash can" icon after each of your comments. I've only used it twice for nonsensical messages, but I do have the power...bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!

As Always...Cheers!

~B

BTW, if you want to learn everything you'll ever want to know about poutine, this video is a hoot. Actually poutine is really a Quebec phenomena, but I couldn't pass up the pun.

Turn Off the TV and Enjoy...

Thanks for all your comments. This is one of my favorites. ~B

Rainy Morning and Dreams

You know how somtimes when you're having a great dream, where something amazing is happening or the world is perfect and you feel great? Maybe you're even having a flying dream (for me it's more of a hovering dream - I just have just to tense my chest and back muscles in exactly the right order to initiate flight). Anyway, when you awake from the dream you find you're still floating in that wonderful mist of feeling, and you think "I have to remember this one". But only minutes later, you're scrambling to recall that particular feeling, or even what the dream was about? Yeah, I know, it sucks.

It's raining this morning. I'm sitting here bewildered, wishing I could get that feeling back.

...I need to keep a notebook next to the bed.

~B

Time for a Show of Hands...

What to do?

Hey, have you ever thought "Gee, I wish that CornFlake Guy would just.............."? Well, here's your chance to say it out loud. I already have a course of action planned, but I'm still interested in hearing what people have to say.

OK, should I...

A. Immigrate to Yarmouth and start building a life here in the Maritimes.

B. Get back on the road and continue my tour of Nova Scotia, then head back to Brattleboro.

C. Hop on the Cat, head back to Brattleboro, get a job and start saving for retirement.

D. CouchSurf and camp my way through NS then around the world. Keep riding indefinitely.

E. Don't be in such a damned hurry to figure it all out!

F. Other:_____________________________.

Let's hear it folks!

If you have trouble posting a comment, email me at bobviens@gmail.com

Thanks,

~B