the view from the verandah

Sweet September morning

Today I love the loss of a good friend to my community, not because of the loss, but because that loss is felt so profoundly and deeply, and that tells me how good and special and important that man was in our lives. I love that he was often too good to be true, and occasionally too true to be good, that he was always joyous in his own way and that he shared his life with us every weekday morning. I love that he and his wife did that together, that they chose this town to call home, and that we had something we will now miss, but that we now have something to cherish, the memory of him and his joy and humor. I love that he told me once that he read this blog frequently and advised me to never stop publishing it, he told me he was a fan and that was a nice thing because I am a fan of him and his work. Our friend, Robert William John “Bob” Wallace is off the air now, but his echos will last a long time in this town.

Today I love the sweet morning calmness of a Tuesday in September, the sounds of distant work being done somewhere, the children passing by on their way to various schools, some being towed by mothers, others looking quite independent and bored by how normal it is for them to be off to school all by themselves because that’s how important they are, mature enough to go on their own, and don’t any of you think otherwise! 🙂 I love remembering the days when I went to school, I miss them terribly, though admittedly I’m not sure what I missed about them. I love sitting on the front verandah in the perfect air as I write and take care of other matters pertaining to my online world.

Today I love hot porridge in the morning. I love the new bread maker and its crazy, over zealous way of letting the dough rise to the point that it’s trying to lift the lid. I may have to reduce my yeast a bit. I love that we have a toaster at the cottage now, I mean, I love roughing it, but no toast? Come on! 😉 I love toast with butter and honey, or butter and jam, or butter and a little bit more butter.

Today I love drinking coffee on the front verandah and remembering my friend. Rest in peace, Bob Wallace, this town loved you.