Closing Date

To continue with the theme - the only marine malfunction yesterday was....rope in the wheel. There were six fishermen with the same problem at the wharf and one of them is a diver who had a tank of air so he decided he'd dive on all the boats and make more than he had lobstering. The catches are down significantly from last year. Not sure if it's due to the rough weather or just a poorer year but the landings dropped 10 crates (100 lbs in a crate) so that's 1000 lbs from first to second haul for the Capt. in this house. Today was the first haul for District 34 and the reports aren't sounding much better as the catches were worse than 33 and they have a higher trap limit. It was a really gusty one out there on the water today as well which always makes the low catches tougher to take.

Finally able to say we only own one house now, as today was the closing date on the old house. There we were last night dragging the rest of the 'stuff' out of the place just before the rain started and finally realizing we are saying goodbye to it. So this sign that has been out front for almost two years (minus that lovely SOLD on the top) has disappeared. Last night the two of us former owners had lobsters for supper and polished off the champagne, which my cruise mate’s friend – Mario Salcedo, Man of Mystery from Miami - had given us as a gift. After decompressing in the sauna we were both in dreamland by 9 p.m.

I had left a confused voice mail message after supper for the baby daughter at university as they have a voice mail message which involves yelling, laughing, music and some unladylike language with a Newfie accent – it sounded like a party going on so I tentatively left a message. Answering the phone to daughter # 3 returning my call I remember somewhat having a conversation and hopefully not promising too many things I can’t deliver. Her father did not hear either the phone or the conversation so at least I was somewhat conscious. She explained that Ashley (her roommate from near St. Johns) was “pretending to be a Newfoundlander and that was her bad language” and that I sounded like I didn’t know what voice mail was, had I ever heard voice mail before? Now in my stuporous state even I thought ‘how can you pretend to be a Newfoundlander if you are one?’ This morning in a more alert manner I addressed the issue in email and received the following reply just now “and yes the answering machine is rediculous (she obviously spells like her father not her mother)...I didn't buy the machine so I have no say in it.” but I digress.

Tomorrow is the local Well Women’s Clinic so I’m off to have all my aging parts checked out. How exciting!