JOIE DE VIVRE! Of Potholes & Smashed Potatoes

Of Potholes & Smashed Potatoes

con’t from The Thin Man

The Thin Man and I say goodbye and I settle back in the car, ready to make tracks for home.  As I drive away, I look in my rearview mirror to see The Thin man give me a salute, by tipping the pop bottle to his temple.  As he turns back to Titus, the bottle is at his lips and he takes a long drink of water.  I wonder if we’ll ever see the Thin Man and his dog again?

* * *

Back on the sunlit road once more, Sofie looks at me quizzically, as if to ask where I’ve been.  She stayed very quiet in the car while I was talking with the Thin Man.  Now that I’m back, she gets up and puts her paws on my shoulder and gives me a really good sniff around.  I’m don’t know why she does that but I think it’s because she wants to make sure it’s me.  After she’s satisfied I haven’t been replaced by aliens, she settles back on her seat and curls up, reminding me of a big, white powder puff.  I’m glad I keep wet wipes in the car and get one out, washing the greasiness from Titus’ coat off my hands and give the steering wheel a good swipe while I’m at it. 

Figure 1Benson Lossing -                                                                    The Pictorial Field Book of the Way of 1812 Fort Wellington I

I see a sign indicating a historical plaque for Fort Wellington and decide to stop and check it out.   

One of the fort’s walls faces the St. Lawrence Seaway and you can see it from Highway #2 but it’s so nondescript, if you didn’t know it formed part of a fort, you wouldn’t think anything of it.  I turn onto the side street, and then the parking lot, I see a sign, ‘Closed for the season’.

“It figures, Sofie.  Everything closes for the season the day after Thanksgiving. Maybe I’ll take a vacation in late spring and we’ll come and stay in the area, when things are open again.”  Sofie twitches a solitary eyebrow but doesn’t bother opening her eyes.

As I pull back out onto Highway #2, I start thinking about The Thin Man and Titus.  Tears come into my eyes, as I think about the two of them together, against the world, just them.  What adversity must they face on their long journey?  My imagination takes off and I see law enforcement looking for a reason to hassle them − farmers chasing them off their land, shotgun at the ready.  Surprised skunks giving them a spray or two as they continue their odyssey after sundown, taking advantage of the cooler temperature. Who knows what else?  A lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow. 

Then another image springs to mind − he’s living the simple life.  Everything he owns is with him.  I wonder what it would be like, to live like that.  No clutter, no muss, no crushing responsibility paying a mortgage and other bills.  No going to a job every day that you don’t get paid enough to do.  Not caring that the cost of electricity is increasing every time you turn around but your salary isn’t and you wonder how you’ll find the money to pay for it.  Not giving a damn that the price of oil is driving the price of gasoline beyond the reach of some people’s incomes.  Every day is an adventure, something new, good, bad or indifferent. 

 He’s probably in better shape than most people, with all the biking he does.  I betcha he doesn’t have to worry about high blood pressure, high cholesterol, high triglycerides, and high sugar.  The only high he probably has is a natural high from the endorphins, which flood his system from all the healthy exercise, fresh air and sunshine he gets.  I’m betting he probably sleeps like a log every night too.  Maybe there is something to be said for his simple life? 

But then my mind switches gears and I start thinking about all the blessings I have in my life and I feel so thankful, even with all the crap I’ve had to live through.  Far from having just a summer of discontent, I’ve had a good couple of years of it and I’m ready for a change.  I silently give thanks for all the blessings in my life and the beautiful safe haven I call home.  The realization trickles into my head − The Thin Man makes his joy and I make mine.  Ah, joie de vivre!

All of a sudden, I just want to be there - home.  My foot presses harder on the gas pedal, and the car seems to leap forward, as if it’s just as anxious as I am, to be home. 

I reach down into one of the fabric shopping bags I’ve packed my snacks and other essentials in when abruptly it hits me.  When I was looking for food to give The Thin Man, I hadn’t looked in the car, just the trunk. What else do I have packed in here?  I keep driving and looking for a good place to pull off the road, so I can check out the various bags on the passenger-side floor.  I see parking signs for a retirement home and make a quick left.  Following the yellow directional arrows painted on the asphalt, I find a place to stop where the sun is shining in at the back.  Putting the car in neutral and pulling up the hand brake (I drive a ‘stick’ as the Americans like to call it), I lean over to grab the two or three bags from the floor and find a treasure trove of food, both for people and dog.  Wow!  How did I forget all about this great stuff and more importantly, where are The Thin Man and his dog?


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