Flanneur d’autoroute

The dog and I are going to visit a number of friends in Ontario at the end of the month, and as is my wont, I’ve already planned several different potential routes to get there and back, but I know exactly what route I’m going to take.  I’ll drive south on the Maine Turnpike, through New Hampshire, avoid Boston via I-495, and then take the Massachusetts Turnpike and the New York State Thruway to the border near Niagara Falls, and from there it’s a quick jog to my first stop in Hamilton, Ontario.  I’ll spend a few days there and then head on the 401 on a straight shot to Belleville, where I’ll get off the highway and circle on the winding roads of Prince Edward County til I visit my second stop, visiting my friends (including prolific commentator Viktoria).  Then after a few days of very intense conversation, I’m sure, and lots of hugs, I’ll get back on the 401 until I get to Quebec, where I’ll take the autoroute into Montreal and a steak dinner with my friend from Calgary before loading up a cooler with Montreal smoked meat from Schwartz’s Deli and the final push back to Maine.  Google says it’s 1289 miles, which sounds about right.

Who cares, Freilinger, I hear you all saying.  This is a blog, not a trip planning site. Continue reading “Flanneur d’autoroute”

Do it well

Another weekend in Seattle.  My son was lovely this weekend, his spring break starting on Friday afternoon with his last after school science club meeting (he’s starting golf on Mondays after the break).  We only had three days together but the same small pile of things came over from his mom’s house: the bag of Lego trains which would be disassembled and reassembled several times, swim trunks, craft books from the library, skateboarding items, golf clubs (despite the wind and rain for the weekend), stuffed bear, box of science projects.  Once he got to the apartment everything had its place and we settled into games of Sorry, cheeseburger lunches, afternoon activities, and more games of Sorry.

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It’s so big

Last night I took the dog to Peaks Island for a nighttime walk.  The ferry was cold and I didn’t wear quite enough layers – perfect for the walk, but the wind coming across Casco Bay, combined with the perky pace of the Machigonne II car ferry, meant I was chilled to the bone when I got back to the mainland.  I put the dog in the back of the car – after a three hour walk he curled up and immediately fell asleep – and I popped into a bar for a quick whisky to warm up.   The woman next to me struck up a conversation when her husband excused himself to use the loo.  She was from northern Vermont, she and her husband owned a craft brewery, and they had engineered a few days holiday in Portland around a “business tour” of a couple of breweries in town.

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Conrad’s fools

I’ve been rereading Joseph Conrad of late.  I was looking for books a few weeks ago at a book shop in Seattle and came across Nostromo, which I vaguely remembered reading many years ago but once I started reading it last weekend I realized I hadn’t read it before, I had only purchased the book and intended to read it.  As often happens, though, you read truly great books when you need to read them, not before.

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