Rosie and Ignacio hung around for a day and a half. They did all of their laundry (at a laundromat) organized their car and went for walks with us.They were easy guests to have around - quiet, respectful of the house routines and easy conversationalists. If I had a complaint it would probably be from my grandson who really wanted their dog to be a bit more playful. The rest of us were grateful that the dog showed no desire to play with anything -especially the chickens or the dogs next door.
My drivers left for Crofton and the ferry to Salt Spring around mid-day of their second day in Duncan. I was sad to see them go. The reality of my summer life is that lots of people come into and go out of my life- most of them I will never see again. Which in some cases is a damn shame. Rosie and Ignacio were good people who were kind and generous to me; they were bright, funny and had a sense of nonchalant adventuresome-ness that was fun to be around. I did email them a few days later to see where they had ended up but I never got a response. I will always wonder if they made it to Chile to help their friend start/run some sort of Eco-hostel. I wonder if they will have kids. And perhaps most of all I wonder if our paths will ever cross again. I hope so.
It was now into the second week of August. My time out west was coming to an end. When I had left Raft Cove, I had thought that perhaps I could convince my son to take his two sons up to Tofino so that we could all go to a Rainbow Gathering together. It would have been great fun. However, by the time that Rosie and Ignacio left I had decided that it was just too far to go for an over night trip. As well I had checked on line and not only did the weather look crummy in Tofino but it appeared as if neither the local authorities or the First Nation community were thrilled about the Gathering happening on their doorsteps. With a partial sense of relief I shelved the idea of going north again. I would spend another week or so with the family and then head east. While part of me was excited about doing some travelling, that terrible sense of sadness about leaving once again threatened to consume me. I dread leaving so much that I become fixated on eking every possible moment with my family. As my tension increases I suspect that I become a poor house guest the last week I am there.
I was going to leave on the Friday - the last Friday before Labour Day weekend. My niece was getting married in Kingston that weekend and I really wanted to be there. As I started to read her excited postings on Facebook about the wedding I realized that one week to get from Duncan to Peterborough was cutting it rather tight. It would mean that I could not afford to get stuck anywhere. I always get stuck somewhere for at least a night. I have always said that hitchhiking is a great way to travel if you are not in a rush. Leaving at the last possible date - would make me incredibly anxious and in the language of the road - send out bad vibes that would scare off potential drivers. Also by leaving a few days earlier than planned , perhaps I would have fewer days to be sad. So I babysat my two grand kids while their parents went out for an anniversary dinner, hung around for another day and got ready to leave on Wednesday. That would give me two extra days to get home. Once again I would be on the road.
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