How soon a population gets urbanized! A generation or so ago most Nova Scotians would have been quite familiar with the little white-washed shack behind the barn. Properly managed outhouses do not have to be smelly, disgusting places. Mind you checking down the hole to make sure there’s nothing present you wouldn’t want to share intimate company with is not an unwise move. Keeping the seat closed not only helps to keep down odours but also cuts down on the insect population. The same dolts who fail to drop the seat at home it seems also don’t know enough to cover the hole. The ladies side I fear is no better.
What would you say if a stranger walked up to your door, came in and walked through your kitchen? During my three-day stay at Rissers Beach adults and children alike seemed to think nothing of walking inches from my windows between my picnic table and my RV. Were I to have stayed longer I’d have thought of putting up a strategically placed washline to discourage the behaviour. My awning and picnic table only moved the idiots to find a route around them. Some education about campground etiquette would seem to be in order.
As you drive in either direction past the roads to Lunenburg on the 103 in Nova Scotia you’ll see a sign that reads Bluenose in Port. What the sign fails to tell you is that the Bluenose is presently at the home of its original builder, Smith & Rhuland, in pieces barely enough of the original boat still usable in its rebuilding to call it a refit.
In my dream world I’m enacting a 5-figure fine to be exacted upon highway crews who leave up temporary construction signs when no workman are present overnight and on weekends. And they wonder why no one pays attention to those signs.
I like those automated construction traffic lights that tell you how many seconds until the light changes. Nothing worse than sitting there fifteen minutes looking at a habitant bored out of his tree wondering how much longer before he’ll let you go. Move so I can tell you’re not asleep on your feet.
Descending hills so steep your ABS engages is a frightening prospect. I was in low gear at the time.
Everyone granted a driver’s licence should have to prove they know how to merge in and out of traffic at a cloverleaf intersection. Should someone who slams on the breaks in the middle of an expressway be surprised if they get rear-ended? If you don’t accelerate into the break in traffic I’ve left in front of my vehicle it’s not my problem. I’m not going to break so you can enter and then step on the gas.
There are two kinds of campground owners. Those who enjoy welcoming new guests and those who think it’s a money-making venture and find campers an inconvenience.
The Province of Quebec operates ‘National’ Parks, it ignores the existance of Canadian National Parks.
Is it legal to call fries smothered in Cheese Whiz and gravy poutine outside Quebec? Must everyone get in on the craze?
There’s a special place in hell where I’ve consigned the blighter who walked off with my walking stick while I was up the observation tower on Mt St Albans in Forillon National Park. Imagine if looks could kill when I ran into him on my way back to my campsite.
No fair. Someone has planted a row of spruce trees that will block the view of Pierced Rock from the best and only public viewing park in Roché Percé.
Is it a beach if the water’s too cold for anyone to swim?
I really didn’t need fireworks at Caraquet New Brunswick nor the gusting gale-force winds that almost blew over my RV. The 8 hour series of thunderstorms that knocked out power, struck two people, and lit up the sky over Halifax while the rain drummed off the roof was not necessary either.
I had no idea shelling pecans was such a challenge. Took me an entire day to shell half a gallon and I can’t even eat them.
Eat clams and chips at John’s Lunch in Dartmouth near the ferry terminal. Just watch out, the owner isn’t above sampling the fries on your plate. Be warned cash or Interac only.
Did you know that new or rotated tires should be retorked after 50 miles of driving? How can it take 45 minutes to get 5 L of synthetic oil from the parts department to the service bay? Ask me if I’ll ever patronize GM in Dartmouth again?
Is an E-mail correspondence if no one ever answers? Don’t you detest people who send one sentence answers or junk E-mail which they’ve forwarded from someone else after it’s travelled half way round the world already?
LaHave Outfitters in LaHave, Lunenburg County Nova Scotia with wharf along its side was operated by the Gray Family for centuries. Today its three storey bulk houses the LaHave Bakery with ovens in its basement, various other businesses and several living spaces. In the former front office still sits the massive 6-ft safe locked because no one now knows the combination.
The cable ferry still plies back and forth across the LaHave River between LaHave and West LaHave.
An aging population on Tancook Island still grows cabbages and markets the eponimous sauerkraut.
Visited the Land Registry Office for the Regional Municipality of the County of Lunenburg. When I had my land in Midville surveyed not only did it cost a fortune and take six years; its registry also ellicited 4 new tax bills and fire protection fees from Northfield Fire Department for property that’s inaccessible. In adding those new bills they maintained an old one that in effect taxed me twice for the same land. They’re investigating it.
Why I make most of my own meals in my RV! The eleven dollar bowl of seafood chowder only looked big. Its wide shallow edges sloped to a tiny centre section. Hunks of fish obviously added at the last minute to the broth were still raw, it was accompanied by a single small dinner roll. Two lawn mowers started up next door just after the soup arrived after a long wait. The scoop of ice cream added to the dried out Dutch Apple Pie could best be described as niggardly. Why did I give that waitress a tip?
The sidewalks in Mahone Bay are rolled up at 5 o’clock on a Friday Night, even in summer at the height of tourist season. Driving home to my campsite after an evening concert at one of the Churches by the Sea in the fog was not a pleasant experience. We watched the fog bank eat the world and hide the full moon while enjoying cookies and punch on the lawn during the intermission. Earlier the electrical system at that campground was not up to the task of supporting my A/C unit.
It’s an ill wind that blows no one good. One positive side-effect of the present downturn in the economy, the bad weather, and the rising cost of gasoline is the opportunity to drive up to nearly any private campground and obtain a spot to camp without prior reservation. Popular provincial and national parks still require a reservation, particularly on long weekends but bad weather cancellations can open spots even there. Good for people such as myself, not necessarily good for campground operators.
What would you say if a stranger walked up to your door, came in and walked through your kitchen? During my three-day stay at Rissers Beach adults and children alike seemed to think nothing of walking inches from my windows between my picnic table and my RV. Were I to have stayed longer I’d have thought of putting up a strategically placed washline to discourage the behaviour. My awning and picnic table only moved the idiots to find a route around them. Some education about campground etiquette would seem to be in order.
As you drive in either direction past the roads to Lunenburg on the 103 in Nova Scotia you’ll see a sign that reads Bluenose in Port. What the sign fails to tell you is that the Bluenose is presently at the home of its original builder, Smith & Rhuland, in pieces barely enough of the original boat still usable in its rebuilding to call it a refit.
In my dream world I’m enacting a 5-figure fine to be exacted upon highway crews who leave up temporary construction signs when no workman are present overnight and on weekends. And they wonder why no one pays attention to those signs.
I like those automated construction traffic lights that tell you how many seconds until the light changes. Nothing worse than sitting there fifteen minutes looking at a habitant bored out of his tree wondering how much longer before he’ll let you go. Move so I can tell you’re not asleep on your feet.
Descending hills so steep your ABS engages is a frightening prospect. I was in low gear at the time.
Everyone granted a driver’s licence should have to prove they know how to merge in and out of traffic at a cloverleaf intersection. Should someone who slams on the breaks in the middle of an expressway be surprised if they get rear-ended? If you don’t accelerate into the break in traffic I’ve left in front of my vehicle it’s not my problem. I’m not going to break so you can enter and then step on the gas.
There are two kinds of campground owners. Those who enjoy welcoming new guests and those who think it’s a money-making venture and find campers an inconvenience.
The Province of Quebec operates ‘National’ Parks, it ignores the existance of Canadian National Parks.
Is it legal to call fries smothered in Cheese Whiz and gravy poutine outside Quebec? Must everyone get in on the craze?
There’s a special place in hell where I’ve consigned the blighter who walked off with my walking stick while I was up the observation tower on Mt St Albans in Forillon National Park. Imagine if looks could kill when I ran into him on my way back to my campsite.
No fair. Someone has planted a row of spruce trees that will block the view of Pierced Rock from the best and only public viewing park in Roché Percé.
Is it a beach if the water’s too cold for anyone to swim?
I really didn’t need fireworks at Caraquet New Brunswick nor the gusting gale-force winds that almost blew over my RV. The 8 hour series of thunderstorms that knocked out power, struck two people, and lit up the sky over Halifax while the rain drummed off the roof was not necessary either.
I had no idea shelling pecans was such a challenge. Took me an entire day to shell half a gallon and I can’t even eat them.
Eat clams and chips at John’s Lunch in Dartmouth near the ferry terminal. Just watch out, the owner isn’t above sampling the fries on your plate. Be warned cash or Interac only.
Did you know that new or rotated tires should be retorked after 50 miles of driving? How can it take 45 minutes to get 5 L of synthetic oil from the parts department to the service bay? Ask me if I’ll ever patronize GM in Dartmouth again?
Is an E-mail correspondence if no one ever answers? Don’t you detest people who send one sentence answers or junk E-mail which they’ve forwarded from someone else after it’s travelled half way round the world already?
LaHave Outfitters in LaHave, Lunenburg County Nova Scotia with wharf along its side was operated by the Gray Family for centuries. Today its three storey bulk houses the LaHave Bakery with ovens in its basement, various other businesses and several living spaces. In the former front office still sits the massive 6-ft safe locked because no one now knows the combination.
The cable ferry still plies back and forth across the LaHave River between LaHave and West LaHave.
An aging population on Tancook Island still grows cabbages and markets the eponimous sauerkraut.
Visited the Land Registry Office for the Regional Municipality of the County of Lunenburg. When I had my land in Midville surveyed not only did it cost a fortune and take six years; its registry also ellicited 4 new tax bills and fire protection fees from Northfield Fire Department for property that’s inaccessible. In adding those new bills they maintained an old one that in effect taxed me twice for the same land. They’re investigating it.
Why I make most of my own meals in my RV! The eleven dollar bowl of seafood chowder only looked big. Its wide shallow edges sloped to a tiny centre section. Hunks of fish obviously added at the last minute to the broth were still raw, it was accompanied by a single small dinner roll. Two lawn mowers started up next door just after the soup arrived after a long wait. The scoop of ice cream added to the dried out Dutch Apple Pie could best be described as niggardly. Why did I give that waitress a tip?
The sidewalks in Mahone Bay are rolled up at 5 o’clock on a Friday Night, even in summer at the height of tourist season. Driving home to my campsite after an evening concert at one of the Churches by the Sea in the fog was not a pleasant experience. We watched the fog bank eat the world and hide the full moon while enjoying cookies and punch on the lawn during the intermission. Earlier the electrical system at that campground was not up to the task of supporting my A/C unit.
It’s an ill wind that blows no one good. One positive side-effect of the present downturn in the economy, the bad weather, and the rising cost of gasoline is the opportunity to drive up to nearly any private campground and obtain a spot to camp without prior reservation. Popular provincial and national parks still require a reservation, particularly on long weekends but bad weather cancellations can open spots even there. Good for people such as myself, not necessarily good for campground operators.
