Monday Morning...
Wake, drive to Kaslo for the mechanic.
Waiting now for the diagnosis, then wait for the part to be ordered and the scheduled repair.
Yesterday, after my beach-comb, the weather turned to rain and sleet. This morning, rain and snow. Waiting, outside, nothing open in Kaslo, finally 8:30 and the Bluebell Bistro is open, someplace to warm up and grab a coffee while they do their thing.
When they're done, back to Balfour to scrounge for more flakes the weather may have turned up (I need to rake the ground so that the rain exposes fresh finds), then onward to Nelson and meet the daughter...
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Sunday
Sunday, Morning at the Gym. You know.
Then to work, a bit early, scour the beach for flakes and arrowheads, some good finds:
from top, left to right: large flake/blade, center - knapped on all edges - tool, right - piece of flint core, bottom - flakes.
***
Chuffed by my success, back to work. A ho-hum Sunday, busy in the day, quiet at night. Of interest in the day, a woman reading a book, I enquire as to the book: Manly P. Hall's "The Secret Teaching of All Ages". She offers to lend it to me after (no, thanks, that's a keeper), she's highlighting relevant passages, she came to this rabbit-hole via Mark Passio, someone I've never heard of...
I shouldn't be surprised, if he was being read anywhere it would be out here, still, it's a rarity to see anyone reading - rarer still anything of intelligence, let alone Manly P. Hall. If I weren't working I'm sure we'd have a good chat.
***
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Stephen the Writer
Saturday, busy all the day through. The whole restaurant; the back tied up by a party of (~50) that make themselves at home the entire day, coming and going, the front of the restaurant reserved for our regular customers. The party, locals, and largely bad tippers who've overcome their disdain of the place to celebrate ***** and not tip JR.
A long day of moving tables and setting up/taking down a party that was far, far more hassle then it was worth, but they knew that going in.
Then, 5:15, who should appear but Stephen the Writer, Stephen from Gastown, now from Creston, and it's good to see him.
Funny to say, but I'd been expecting him. I work at the Crossroads, I see everyone.
And so we catch up, best we can, I've a lot of other tables and the party in the back is making things troublesome.
It's good to see him and he's astonished by the "Coincidence" of our reacquaintance. I'm not so astonished.
He makes his ferry, the night proceeds, busy, a pair from Kaslo that are giving me updates on places to rent - and this is good, because - sooner or later I'm going to need a place to live (later I'm thinking...) but the first thing at the moment - the first thing - is to get the CRV back on the road in tip-top condition, and to pay down a few of the winter bills. Because there are a lot of bills...
...and then get back up the mountain...
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The American and Bigfoot
He was up doing the hot-springs tour with his 2 young children, an older guy, late 40's maybe. And he's a big book on Bigfoot Tales in front of him, which I presumed he was reading to his kids, and somehow we got to talking.
Nope. The book was his. And so I'm telling him a few of the local sightings, with a caution as to the credibility of the witnesses.
He has his own story he tells me. That he was in Washington, Upstate, Olympia region, driving, highway, 2 friends, when what should they see lying across the road - ???
He didn't know. It had a humanish face, not protruding like a deer or wolf. Maybe it was eating something, roadkill. Big. He had no explanations.
As a witness he's sober, credible, he's seen something - with others, that he can't explain. That's beyond the pale. Outside the ordinary. And he's looking for an explanation.
Now, what do you do when your reality is tipped a bit on it's head? Not that I believe, rather, I'm skeptical, but - it's an easy thing to be when you haven't had the experience.
He's quiet, this conversation, it's brought up something that still disturbs him...
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