First and Last Day In NFL

©  09 Jul '12     photo by smck

© 15 Jul '12     photo by smck

The somewhat drear coast-line picture was taken from the about to dock ferry on what was to be our first day in Newfoundland.  Between the appealing vista of these barren hills and a bit of tourist information on our Newfoundland map about a reconstructed historical light-house we, ad-hoc, decided to take the first right out of the ferry terminal and head to Rose Blanche and explore both  the Lighthouse and the moor-like hills.  The second photo was taken on our last day in NFL as we headed to a recommended restaurant on that same road to Rose Blanche.  Even though I am sure we saw this sign on our first day it did not register as we were focused on our destination not some little country village.  However this day of the photo we were looking for Margaree and a good evening supper at what turned out to be a delightful down-home restaurant that our hosts at Caribu Inn had been glad to suggest. And we were not disappointed. 

Himself! with Honorary Grandson and Dog

© Aug '12     photo by Sue

Among the many things I love about my summer in Cape Breton are my incredible friends.

Hills, Spruce, Fog,and Rain

© Aug '12     photo by smck

When you're happy, grey days are a needed flavour to your life - but when your mind is grey, drear days are as a burden to bend you down -

Contemplation

© 30 Sep '12    photo by smck

This is almost the same view as before but at just a bit larger scale in which you can see the roughness of this old and seasoned wood.  It is somewhat wet from soaking up rain but will dry quickly when I have split the rounds into 1/2s and then 1/4s and leave it stacked here, covered on top with a thin two foot wide piece of plywood until I have finished cutting in this area.  Later I will haul it back to my wood-rick near our house to split the larger pieces to nice stove size and stack it all again. This old dead wood burns well with little creosote output but the one main drawback is the 'dirtiness' of the bits of decaying exterior wood that litters the floor after every loading of the stove - when I do occasionally cut either a living tree or one that is newly deceased I always have a minor enjoyment of how little litter there is in handling the wood.  In general though it's load the stove - then sweep and vacuum around the stove. 

However when the stove is burning nicely with the flames flickering their hypnotic lantern show through the tempered glass doors and I am sitting in my comfortable chair with my book and my single-malt of the day, laze-ally enjoying the warmth on a bone cold winters day then the labour has been well played.   
 
I have to fess-up, that actually I drink much more tea than single-malt - but the single malt does fit right into the ambiance of the moment.

Possible Bag

© 30 Sep '12    photo by smck

In the early days of the American expansion westward into the mountains, the frontiersmen carried a kind of pack bag that they referred to as their 'Possible Bag'  - I assume that it was 'possible' that most anything they might have need of was in it.  Well here is my little green 'Possible Bag' - in the lower left corner, in which I carry my cell phone and camera.  As you can see I run a semi-managed woodlot in which I try never to cut any living tree.  And here is the results of my cutting wood-stove size pieces of a long dead Red Oak blow-down.