Before I came to Canada, I had no idea about what I now call ‘deck life’. Yet now Summer is here, that is where I find myself living and writing. If it wasn’t for the mosquitoes after nine pm, I’d probably end up sleeping out here as well. Not that there are many mossies around at the moment. They usually arrive three days after a rain shower, and there’s been no rain since last Sunday. Just in case there are any strays wafting about, I’ve lit the mosquito coils and citronella candles.
Angie is off at her yearly conference in Squamish, so until tomorrow it’s just me and the Dog, chilling, drinking beers and getting dive bombed by Hummingbirds on their way to the feeder. Watching the glorious British Columbian daylight fade from blue through a dusky violet into broad indigo bands around the horizon, and the 8:40 flight passes overhead from Vancouver. The dog in next doors yard, a curly haired mutt, barks sporadic greeting at the world, and a tiny cooling breeze strokes my feet therapeutically. Et in Arcadia ego.
It’s not all fun because there are hard choices to be made. Do I get another beer from the fridge? Or do I simply sit here listening to far off conversations, watch the odd boat go past and let the stress drip from my bones. Choices, choices. Would I like some tea and a Digestive cookie before I reluctantly go to bed? Well goodness me, so I do.
Have hardly written a thing over the past week, barely two thousand worthwhile words, but after all the travelling, I’m having a little private time out.