Sidetracked!

Placentia

I'm writing this on the Atlantic Vision, the wonderful ferry running between Newfoundland and Nova Scotia and which is even better than before as it now has highspeed.

Well, ahem, we're a day late. And, ahem, there was a slight problem in that I thought we were sailing on Monday 29th, when in actual fact, ahem, it was Tuesday 30th. Says so right on the ticket. The ticket that Grandgirl and I failed to look at until the security guard pointed it out to us at the gate to the empty ferry terminal.

So no, we didn't skulk the 200K back to home (something about waving goodbye to all and sundry as we left and then showing up on the evening of the same day with a red face). We stayed in Placentia. At Harold Hotel. A most fortuitous decision as it turns out.

We went for a wonderful walk on the Placentia boardwalk after dinner. The dregs of Irene were all around us, unseasonable heat, raging wind and the ocean beating off the rocks below us. Magnificent.

Today we visited the old graveyard, some of it early 18th century. The old caretaker was shattered to hear I was of the lapsed catholic variety. I regretted telling him as soon as the words were out of my mouth as he took it so personally. He insisted on showing me a grave that held a Margaret O'Brien whose epitaph read "She died as she lived in God's Grace." And told me to think about that. I too could live like that, it wasn't too late.

"Maybe I already am in the grace?" I said to him and he shook his head sadly muttering about the one true church.

After the attempted conversion, we went for another long walk, this time by the wonderful river with the boats tied up and the sun splitting the rocks.

Meanwhile I ran into the president of the historical society whom I had met a few times at conferences and took the opportunity to talk about my play. We popped into a gorgeous new cafe recommended to me by a friend. Stunning. Home cooking and patisserie and the old general store beautifully renovated with floors and walls restored to their former glory. The owner and her husband are currently living upstairs but plan to eventually transform this space into an art gallery for her work.

She owns one of the inns in the area and in chatting it turned out she was looking for an accountant.

Well, duh, bingo. I have a new client. A most fortuitous misreading of tickets. All is not lost and Grandma is not destined for the home or a minder. Just yet.