As I said I would, I spent the last several days on Lasqueti Island without my computer. It was a nice break. I read a lot. Out of books. (Including the fascinating The Brain that Changes Itself by Norman Doidge and The Gift of Stones, an early novel by Jim Crace, who's rapidly becoming one of my favourite living novelists. I've just started a more recent book of his, called Six, after reading, twice, the brilliant Being Dead and his latest, The Pesthouse. Such a good stylist.) How quaint. That's what life on an off-grid island'll do to you I guess. Also did a fair bit of walking and a bit of wood-splitting, which is one of my favourite physical activities, such a fine combination of meditation and aggression.
Here's a shot of me and Kaleb on the beach:
And here we are doing what the Wells boys do best:
His time with Rachel tends to be more manic:
I'll have to be efficient, as we're planning to move back to Halifax in April and there'll be lots to do to get ready for that. We've given BC a good go, and it has lots going for it to be sure, but we miss our half-boho, half-bourgeois Halifax life, in which we lived in our own house instead of someone else's basement. This city's just too damn expensive for folks like us to get ahead. Thanks to a combination of good fortune and shrewd management, we haven't fallen behind, but everything we've done here has had a provisional feel to it and it can't realistically be otherwise, barring a sudden unexpected windfall.
All for now. I'll probably be back in five days or so.