So we take off a few days, starting with a sprint to Antigonish to watch the Canada game for the bronze medal. Rhian and her team-mates don't get near the French goal: they are exhausted after the battle against the Americans. In the 2nd half they have to defend against waves of brilliant French players hitting the bar, firing at Canadian legs... How do the French not score?
And then, out on their feet, a French player fouls Sinclair, the free kick is fired into the box, bing-bang-bong and it falls in front of the smallest player on the field who scores. Diane Matheson, who nearly missed the tournament with a broken leg, delivers the photo of the tournament: pure joiy as she runs off to celebrate her goal, pointing at the Maple Leaf on her shirt. And still, in the dying seconds, the French get down to the Canadian goal and threaten. Then the whistle and vindication. After 10 years of work, Rhian and her team-mates have arrived. Christine Sinclair is a national figure and carries the flag into the closing ceremony. For a few days, the Canada Womens' soccer team is Canada.
What a way to start a little holiday! I even found my eyes watering up at the thought of this victory and thinking of the thousands of Canadians, non-soccer people, watching this display of athleticism and guts. It really is a 1972 moment for Canada, only this time Canadian women arrived. It is an iconic moment when the team is rewarded for its ability to keep working under great distress.
It's one of those moments which will sustain many people for weeks to come. We feel so elated, so happy for Shan and Keith and Rhian and everyone and for all these women who have created soccer for women in Canada.
A great moment, good enough to propel us into the Fall and beyond.
So, we go to Dartmouth and I'm delighted to stop working for a few days. Just the break is good. A chance to look around for ideas and products to help with the Cape George project.
Friday we visit family: Frank Tomscha who's in better shape than the last time we met; Jessica and her new baby; Kevin who's recovering from a recent fall; Terry, his son, is onhand. Then out to meet Doris Horne, an old friend of the Dunn family, who introduces us to her large family, her paintings (rather good), her dogs, her lakeside cottage with a roof like ours... A fine day really. Not a drill or hammer in sight.
Saturday we meet up with Mary MacLeod, an old friend from the 70s and York University, who is in fine shape apart from a broken sternum sustained while moving a table! Then on to the Market, to talk to a wood man and discuss wine with people from the Valley, buy Dutch cheese and look at NASCAD students' work. Pouring and we love the rain: makes me think of a full well. Then more galleries and supper with Frances and off to brother Colin's for an evening's entertainment.
And so back to the Cape, to the Makita drills, to the glorious developing garden, to fresh Cape Breton vegetables and hyper-fresh fish and I sweat my 8-hour shift making walls and insulating. We eat fresh fist and corn. And swim in the pond.
Getting there.
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