My Morning Walk

My inner voice that berates me daily for needing to do laundry, clean the bathroom, cut back the raspberry bushes, move that shovel away from the side of the house that has been there for 4 months, has added “write in your blog” to the list. The thing is, I actually like blogging. What happened? I have thunk and thunk and the only thing I can come up with is that Facebook sucked my ability and desire to formulate complete sentences out of my brain. And so… I fight back. I start with my walk this morning around town. While eating dinner, Tony made fun of me and said I’d probably blog about Lunenburg and my new boots. The truth is, I thought about photographing my boots, but I restrained myself. I guess I’m pretty predictable. I just happen to really love this town. (and my boots) The big yellow bus comes every day at 7:20 to take the boy away and then it’s me and Lego the dog on our daily jaunt. We headed up the hill. Our first view is the back harbour. I love this view. It’s the alternative Lunenburg view. So pastoral. The back of our house faces the back harbour and we would have an amazing view from our bedroom, but there are zero windows on the back of the house. It’s on the to do list.

Lego pulls me around Block House hill and while he looks for deer poop, I look out at the town towards the front harbour.

The first majestic view is from Pelham st. There is another sniffing ground here to amuse the dog and a much needed trash barrel.

We turn left down to Montague st. and come to Foodland, one of our two local grocery stores. While I am grateful to have a place to pick up milk, mostly I weep for the memory of well stocked stores with appealing food. This sign says it all. Whole Wheat Bread…A new fangled food from a far away land. I do so love our farmers’ market. It makes up for a store that can be out of soda water, apple juice and raisins for two weeks. (That’s the other store.)

I love this view of the back of two of Lunenburg’s wonderful restaurants. Magnolia’s has the best Key Lime Pie ever.

The Picton Castle is still in town, but they are soon headed for the south seas for two years. I say that like it’s no big deal, but really, it’s mind boggling. I just don’t understand how you get there from here.

We begin our homeward climb up King st. I had to put this photo in because this is the sort of thing I love to look at. Mums planted in pumpkins. I’ll do that after I cut back the raspberry bushes and fold some laundry.

I pant up the hill along the Town Hall. I love this building. It makes me think of Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel. Then, it’s back home for another half cup of coffee and into my little sweat shop to cut and sew and make pretty flowers till the boy gets off that big yellow bus at 3:30. Such is my life. I picked it. I’ll write again soon. Really.