We feel a bit guilty escaping from the MB’s work kamp: but go we must to be there to greet David and Rosemary on their arrival in Bayfield. The MB insists on finishing the second wall which seems to be cutting our timing very fine, but in glorious sunshine we arrive at David’s house with five minutes to spare. I take a few photos (DC reading Rosemary’s mail, the beach, the house), then retreat from the black fly who seem to like my blood group into the car where I extravagantly run the engine for the air-conditioning. Maybe the blackfly can digest my cumadin blood better than DC’s because she seems to be immune today. The Rose arrives, her daughter looking remarkably fresh after driving all the way from Boston. The most notable item in their luggage: a huge cooler to transport the 80 pounds of blueberries which David lives on right up to May of the next year and given his age and survival of 2 by-passes who can say that blueberries aren’t an answer?
Anyway the catastrophic news in Bayfield is that George Green is no longer cooking lobster at the wharf! We have to pick them up in Aulds Cove and very fine lobster they are, but it’s not Marilyn, George’s daughter, cooking. Maybe we chose the right year to move from Bayfield! David would get into a large rum and ginger ale except that his water pump won’t suck, in fact it sucks royally. He can’t get it going and it won’t get going until a local plumber comes by. Time for a submersible pump!
And on the first lobster feast in Barbara’s house, full of light, elegant, with excellent wines... And back to Antigonish for the night...
So far from that clay pit in Cape Breton.
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