I am back in the city, in an effort to beat the impending Nor'Easter that is supposed to hit us over night and during Sunday. My car is in my driveway, safely off the street, which must disappoint the parking Nazi's who delight in ticketing and towing away vehicles they feel are in the way of snow removal.
Believe it or not, there are folks in Halifax who do not have a parking space with their homes. They live in an older part of town that pre-dated cars, so they have to park in front of their homes if there is a space available, and make other arrangements if there isn't. My friend Dawn Sloane has a newer home, but no drive way, so when the weather is el crappy, she and her neighbours who are in a similar plight all have to park some place away from their homes.
I am grateful that my driveway will accommodate my car and Patricia's. My neighbour next door has like 3 vehicles, and the configuration they have to go through to fit all vehicles in a driveway like mine makes me think they're really good at Tetris. Maybe they're not, but they are giving me the opposite impression.
I took quite a bit of stuff to my Mom's last week. I could have sworn that I was bring back less stuff, but in fact it was quite a bit more. My sister gave Mom and me some baked goodies. My other sister crocheted a quilt or blanket or something that goes on a bed.
Before I left this afternoon, I had coffee with an old friend this morning. His name is Reg, and we go way back. We met when we were 4 years old. We have fallen out of touch in recent years, and it is my fault. The fact that when I am up that I am busy beyond measure with doing stuff for my mother is a poor excuse for my behaviour. I promise to do a much, much better job of keeping in touch with him in 2013. Maybe he will even go back to reading my blog again.
When I got back this afternoon, I gave Patricia her presents. She got a gift card from my mother, and I gave her a gift card from a place called David's Teas, a place where women hang out and drink stuff whilst holding a pinky up in the air in a dainty fashion. I also gave her a few dvd's, some good rechargeable batteries, and a pretty cool speaker for her computer that is smaller than a fart, but produces a huge sound, pretty much as loud as a wet fart exclaimed during mass. And I'm not Catholic, just imagining what that would be like. Her puter only has one speaker, and a poor one at that. That's all over with this tiny speaker.
Patricia's main present for me, which nearly made me cry with delight, is Eaton's "History of Kings County". It is the seminal book detailing the, um, history of King's County, Nova Scotia, where I am from. Been browsing through it in the last few minutes, and I feel all tingly inside. I have only wanted this book for 15 years or so. Patricia managed to find a copy in very good condition of this long out-of-print book at a price that didn't break her bank. A first edition can go for hundreds of dollars. This is not a first edition. Who cares? I just want the information inside this excellent book.
Now I am trying to find a copy of "The Devil's Half-Acre", another out-of-print book, this one about the history of Kentville, the "shiretown" of King's County. That town is known as the county seat, which is what "shiretown" means, in case you were wondering. My main memory of Kentville is an unpleasant one, since I spent 3 years attending junior high there in the last 1970's, getting my ass kicked by boys and girls alike, and being hated by my gym teacher. You can read all about that in the "year in review" series from earlier this year. This is over two hundred posts ago. Hard to believe, as it seems I just wrote that series a week or so ago.
I have a core interest in local history. I don't get tired of reading about it. Even my high school history teachers could not drive me away from this interest, even though they tried really hard to do so. I have always wondered why history teachers seem to have a dry as chalk delivery style. Is that the way the universities pump them out? Or am I over analysing this?
It has been a long day. And I didn't have a nap this afternoon. You can just imagine how pooped I am. It is time to settle in for a long Winter's nap. Where is my cap, anyway?
See you tomorrow.