Oct 13/04 – Hamilton, Bermuda – upstairs patio of the Pickled Onion

Trip continues to grow more expensive – things don’t come cheap here, so, I suppose, I might as well enjoy it while the money lasts – enjoy the perks of engineer salary. Should hopefully be cheaper tomorrow – a day at the beach (and perhaps the same on Friday if I’m not burned to a crisp). The hat has been a fantastic purchase - $``.95 US for a barin saver – and the water at the restaurant is fantastic – cold, wet, pure, simple, delicious – little loaf of bread they brought looks mostly fresh – still somewhat warm, resting on a neat little paddle with cut outs for knife & butter tin. The noises of front street – vehicles, horns, buses, diesels – mixed with piped in music – sort of an island jazz – and the conversations of other tourists like me.

It feels good to write – attempted writing on the computer last night and it didn’t flow (and then 24 season 2 disc 4 wouldn’t play on the laptop) – but pen on paper feels different – better, more restful, more rich, more full of artistry and the poetry of creation. That can happen on the computer, but yeah – simple journaling is pretty sweet.

The near heat exhaustion yesterday & the sweetness of the water at present have helped remind of the preciousness of the simple things. Water is perhaps not so flavourful or exciting a drink, but it’s so needed – and I can see why my body craves it. Drinking it now is like drinking the finest of wines, the richest of vintages.

The ginger beer today was decent – odd flavour, but yummy. The iced tea was OK (once I dumped about 8 sugar packets in it – razzen frazzen American style ice tea – sucking/crunching on the ice cubes with bits of sugar remnants on them was likely the best part of it all). The fruit smoothie with Marie yesterday was fantastic with the mix of mango, watermelon, passion fruit, pineapple and a lot of other juices – but still not as good as simple water after a day of baking in the hot sun.

I’m sort of at peace at present. Part of it is just the tiredness from being in the sun all day and walking too much. Some of it is the way the humidity saps your energy. But a large chunk of the peacefulness comes from having no agenda – no clocks demanding I be some where – no “have to”s or “should be”s – only the “want to”s – and right now the “want to”s are dropping to a very simple subset – wander, experience, enjoy the ocean, enjoy TV on DVD & books (though having a hard time getting into Bonhoeffer’s “the cost of discipleship”), eat & drink & sleep.

There are still the nagging voices of “should be” speaking in my ear, but I’m trying to suppress them. There is the occasional panick attack of ‘you’re not going to do/see enough on your vacation” and I stop, breathe deep & push the panick down into it’s hole again.

The swordfish steak is not bad – by itself it’s fairly flavourless – just a nice white fish taste. With the mango/papaya/red pepper salsa (just chopped up chunks) on top, the salsa flavour blends nicely with the swordfish to change the flavour of the whole – the sharp tang from the mangos, deeper flavours from the papayas.

It’s 5:35. Finished the swordfish & working on the fries & veggies. I may have a chunk of time to “kill” waiting to meet with Marie & her friends for harbour night. It’s nice having her around. It’s been a decent balance so far of alone time & time with Marie . Not sure 100% how she’s doing. Lots for her to figure out in life at present & not sure how many solid friends she has here. We’ve both changed in some ways since hanging together in Calgary almost a lifetime ago. The year & some has not been easy on either of us (or at least I know it’s been hard on me).

I’ve really enjoyed my 30’s, but the last year has been one of desolation – starting work with General Dynamics and starting things with the converge crew had so much promise of good things to come, but instead it’s turned out to be more heartache & disappointment – fledgling hopes being dashed against the rocks before they even got the chance to attempt flight. All of it’s left me fairly bruised & cynical – likely the most I’ve been. I feel the most stripped at present and it’s been such a positive thing in the middle of its desolation. I find myself “deciduous” – bare branches stripped of leaves, waiting for the promise of spring to be clothed again in new life – and that’s the rich part of the present – the richness of this “fall season” – that I exist in hope & possibility. The future is unknown & there is still, unreasonably so, the hope for something better. This hope should not be present after the year I had, but it is & I’m even “happy” about that – in my own internal, gentle form of happiness. I’m not looking forward to another winter, but it can be endured if hope is present; if hope is the sap frozen in my veins, waiting for the thaw of springtime.

Man, can’t believe my appetite lately. I’ve had all that stuff & I’m still working away at the bread & stuff – finished my vegetables, even – so you know I’m hungry – zucchini, beans, and peppers – the zucchini was really good – crisp and firm – still can’t bring myself to down the broccoli though.