Nova Scotia, week eight: full moons and Jack O' Lanterns

Hello Everyone,

Some assorted thoughts:

My skills as a pumpkin carver appear to have reached such precision that they are actually detrimental. The pieces I carved for Halloween this year, and, I suppose, the ones that Emilie did as well, were so hauntingly scary that the children in the area stayed well clear of our house. Our bowl of candy remained untouched.

Mostly. There may have been some peanut M&Ms go missing.

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The makers of baby clothes are like the kids on the high school basketball team who are 7 feet tall at age 16. Everyone else in the fashion industry has to bust their butts to make something cool, creative, hip, chic, etc. Baby clothes designers just put feet and ears on a onesie and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen.

One has to dig through the adult section of a second hand clothing store to find a few gems. The baby section is just one damned adorable outfit after another.

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One more fortuitous thing about living here on the South Shore was being able to take advantage of the full moon on Halloween. We went for a long walk on Crescent Beach, with the moonlight glinting off the waves. Enjoying long walks on the beach is like having a penchant for steak. It's kind of a cliche, but also popular for a reason.

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We finally discovered the name of Arthur's friend. We've been calling him Roddy, because he's part Ridgeback, but thanks to the local Facebook page, we've since learned his name is Wiley. In truth, he's not really responsive to either. Names are a human thing that dogs go along with for our benefit.

We came by this information when someone from a house down the laneway posted about finding a lost dog. We recognized the picture right away as the enthusiastic fur missile that comes bounding in most days to play with Arthur. It was pretty clear the first time he did so that he was not at all lost, he just had little use for property lines.

Anyway, through subsequent posts, we learned that he lives a few houses over, across a hayfield. From what I can gather, he spends his days poking around the fields, chasing mice and deer, then checking out what's going on at the various houses in the area when he gets bored of that. On sunny days when he comes around, he and Arthur will wrestle over sticks and balls, then roll on their backs in the yard.

If life is better on the South Shore, being a free range dog here is better still.

Wes

Photos