What we do every day? Take Tuesday 9 July.

The photos are fun.

Of course Deborah isn't painting a coffin: it's a set of shelves made by Austin Venedam whom we met at the Antigonish market. They will hang above the kitchen counter at dwarf-apple height, perfect for the resident chef. She paints them whitish like the walls.

Austin lives in the house he was born in back there at the end of the ashphalt road at Monk's Head. Nova Scotians either up and go to Alberta or don't leave home at all. Literally.

We drove over Friday to pick up these Shaker-like shelves in the middle of a three-day heat wave and I can remember a very cool O'Keefe's India Pale Ale in his workshop. We also picked up two Adirondack chairs so I feel like we are now true North Americans arrived at the lakeside.

On the way back to the Cape we bought a washing line set-up from Canadian Tire. Gradually getting round to the details.

Deborah paints the two Adirondack chairs a beautiful shade of green and they disappear on her lawn.
I'll photograph them if I find them.

So, what do we do in a day? Just to give you an idea. Me, I make a list of things I'd like to accomplish and then just go at it until the evening when I start another bonfire to burn up all the brush lying rotting around here. The photo follows. There's a lot to burn if you want to keep up with what is growing.

The problem today is a smell, a very bad smell. It's obviously coming from the bathroom and kitchen sinks. I wonder if the vent pipe is maybe too small, should have been 4 inch. Or what? I venture into the crawl space to discover that we FORGOT to put traps into the two sinks and we left the vent pipe open at one end to receive the sump pump... How did that happen? We (Michael and I) were so proud of our idea to put the traps under the floorboards that we just forgot to do it! Thought we wouldn't clutter up the cupboard under the sinks. And as the septic system starts to generate gases, we've now the smell of crap right through the house.

It's actually not that bad. Not fainting level yet.

So, I fix that. Glueing ABS plastic pipe is a bit like Lego except that when you've applied the glue, it's done. While I'm in the crawlspace, yes crawling, I also check why two of the fluorescent lights aren't working -- something to do with the humidity. And I take the pick-axe to the shale floor to start digging out a sump pit. We need an active sump pump.

This crawling around in the wet shale will give me leg cramps overnight. But very good training.

Back up though: before I can fix the sewage smell we have to go 10 k to the village to pick up plumbing parts, so while we're there I ask Blair Landry, the hardware store owner, whether I can get parts for the old lamp Donagh gave us (1930s?). We don't find anything so he suggests that I mend it and sells me a very strong glue.  Good salesman really. He also explains how to assemble the traps. Good teacher.

I load 4 by 10ft white drainage pipes onto our roof-rack to drain the approach to the house and we go back into the village, collecting clean water on the way.

Just think: with our ultra-violet light now working 24 hours a day for us, we'll be able to drink the water from the cistern, ie the rainwater. That's how we move ahead: one little bit at as time.

So, back to the village of St Peter's. We sit in Tim Horton's for coffee and a muffin wondering why the most beautiful view of the sea isn't exploited by this building. Everything faces the main street where, of course, Tim Horton's business comes from. Even the parking is, by sign, limited to 20 minutes and there are No Loitering signs. The business just invites you to come in, drink a coffee and leave... If they were making money from the sea, they'd probably face that way: as it is they just park their garbage containers there.

Then we pick up a fillet of trout from the mobile fish-monger set up by the liquor shop and make our way back to the Cape where I can now fix the smell issue.

Unfortunately, while installing the bathroom sink trap I disturb the sink set-up and it leaks. That's a job on the list for tomorrow. And so one thing leads to another and time passes.

The smell is bottled, so I cut a chainsaw gas-tank of wood and burn it on a bonfire which we watch as the light fades. We eat the trout and a wonderful zucchini salad, then watch House of Cards on Netflix.

The internet has indeed revolutionised our world. We are here, there and everywhere all the time.