The fog rolled in this morning and the outside world disappeared. It feels a little like we’re living in Brigadoon except that there’s no dancing and the locals don’t burst into song. Pity really. š
I’m still cleaning. sigh I’ve gotten most of the really (to me) worst jobs done in the kitchen, but I still need to wash the floor and then vacuum/shampoo the rug. Speaking of the floor – even in the 70s, which is when this one was laid, we didn’t use patterns which never look clean. Brown and yellow flowers yes. Grungy dirt-looking no. Luckily the carpet covers most of it.
On the fishing front the word has been passed (so assume many details have been lost) that the herring quota has been cut. The worst part is that there will be one quota and the catches of both inshore fishers (weirs and shutoffs) and those of the seiners will be counted in one pot. So, the fear is that the big offshore boats will have enormous hauls and there won’t be any quota left for the little guys. Typical.
We just have to hope that the whales show up and drive all the little fish into shore. The downside of that is the resulting increase in whale chaser boats messing things up. Nothing is easy. š
I have lots of hummingbirds which surprises me a little bit. In the past I’ve fed them a syrup made with equal parts water and sugar. Given the crowds around the feeders I guess they’ve liked that but it’s almost as expensive as feeding all the dogs who (literally) knock on the back door.
This year I read the advice from experts to use a recipe consisting of four parts water to one of sugar. I’ve cheated a little and it’s probably closer to 2/1 – still it hasn’t seemed to make a big difference to them.
The dogs will be happy – I can afford more of their duck treats. They will still come find me in the fog. š
This Fundy Migrant's Tale 