22 August: Magical flour and eggs and water, a Lucky Inferno, and Links to History.

My repacking was yesterday afternoon and I used my mom’s lint roller to remove dog hair from the interior of the rental car. This morning I was ready for the road. After mom woke up, we conversed, but soon it was time to go. I’d be on my own for two days and nights.

Leaving at 845am, I took lefts and rights through the back roads. It was smooth driving and hardly anyone was around on this Saturday morning. Passing by small businesses, like maple syrup harvesters and art studios, I wondered if any were on the interwebs. Perhaps they survived by word of mouth and/or lost tourists?

The first stop was Books Galore, with a side stop at Rewards Department Store to use their washroom. Unfortunately the book store had none of the books on my list, but I did raid them heavily last year. Still one of the best used book stores in Nova Scotia.

Getting hungry, I went right East to a place I was recommended to try; The Noodle Guy in Port Williams, near Wolfville. The handmade tagliatelle with basil, garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, and mushrooms was awesome. It was accompanied by a nice zero alcohol rose from Nova vineyards. I was sitting at the old diner “bar” and got a great view of the open kitchen. They sure know their pasta here.

Heading West I stopped at Gametronix, which still has no price tags on their stock. You have to ask the owner how much each item costs and there was nothing there I particularly needed. A little further West I popped into Black Cat Books, in Kentville, and found a revised edition of Inferno by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. It’s a retelling of Dante’s Inferno from the viewpoint of a science fiction writer, which I have read before and really enjoyed it. It led to me reading the original which I also enjoyed. Ended up chatting with the fellow working there for about 20 minutes about book and life in general.

Lastly, continuing to head West, I stopped in Berwick at Bargin Harley’s. They are a HUGE ‘everything’ store and have a lot of things you would find in clearance and liquidation stores. I picked up two cool patterned shirts ($8 each) and two charging/data cables of an interesting design ($7 each).

That done, it was getting late in the afternoon so I drove to Annapolis Royal. I checked into Blackwood’s Bread and Roses Inn, which I’d stayed at before. The house is interesting old, beds are comfy, and its incredibly close to food, shops, and scenery. Once checked in, and after chatting with one of the owners, it was time to eat.

I chose to go to Maison St.George, which used to be where the Garrison House restaurant was. The folks that owned it also owned at least two other restaurants except one burned down and the company folded. The staff and chefs of the company banded together and bought this place. The Garrison House is still run as a B&B and they changed the restaurant to be a blend of Euro Bistro with Maritime cuisine. I like the decor, except the fantastic felt artist’s works (Bette Young) are no longer being displayed and sold here.

After having good conversations with both the server and mixologist, I was given a complementary sample drink to try: Sangria sugar foam, port wine, and cranberry orange fruit juice. Refreshing and the foam complemented the slight acidity. 

        My appetizer was a superb pate of pork and chicken with nuts and berries. A nice dance of flavours on the tongue. 

        The main, with duck fat potatoes and maple glazed carrots (wonderfully roasted and herbed), was an expertly cooked steak with salt flakes conservatively sprinkled on top. I haven’t had red meat for a week and it's what my body needed. It came with a peppercorn sauce, on the side, that was buttery and savory and perfect. I had absolutely no room for dessert.

        After the excellent meal, I recharged my history batteries by walking across the street and roaming through the original graveyard of Annapolis Royal, the oldest town settled by Europeans in North America.

        I noticed Rose Fortune’s new gravesite (1774-1864). An artist made a wheelbarrow shaped structure for the broken gravestone. It’s a nice salute to a woman who, at 50, started a business to transport luggage for new arrivals in Annapolis Royal. After being a trusted advisor for tourists for a year, she had enough funds to purchase horse drawn wagons. That’s not a mistake. It is plural on purpose. 

        Working into her 70’s, she maintained law and order along the waterfront. It was not an official position, but the town’s leaders appreciated her efforts and trusted her in this role. She is regarded as the first female police officer in North America. Quite the achievement for a descendant of black loyalists who emigrated here when she was ten. They were among the three thousand black loyalists who fled to Canada after the American Revolutionary War.

        I continued into Fort Anne's earthen battlements, as it is open 24/7/365. It always relaxes me and soothes my inner being to walk around this place. It could be the memory of being a young boy and sledding down its short slopes one winter. Perhaps it is my knowledge of the past that existed here and how important this place was for so many early settlers.

        Wandering down St. George street, by the waterfront, I looped back to my B&B. Quite the day. 3.2km and 3 flights of stairs.

18-21 August: Mission Film Noir Possible and Yo Joe.

18 August: Deliver the Target
(Cue slow quiet repetitive jazz music) I woke up before mom, got some things together, and had breakfast. Cereal with cinnamon and milk. Something for my stomach to ruminate on life with. 

    At 5am, I woke her so she could get ready…for seeing her potential third husband. At 525am, us and Cookie went down to the car. We were not observed and drove nearly fifty minutes to the dark edge of a nearly empty Sobey’s parking lot in Tantallon. Only the early shift at the grocery store had gotten here earlier. The other vehicle was there…waiting. Was I too late?

    I stopped behind it and slowly exited the car. A woman came out of the passenger side, saying something softly to the man driving. Removing a large practical pack, she shut the door and approached.

    Opening the trunk, she laid her bag inside. “Ready?”, I said. 

    “Ready,” she replied with a look like five pounds of anticipation in a three pound bag.

    “You’re in the back, with Cookie.”

    My sister said with false surprise, “Oh. Couldn’t leave him alone, eh?” I nodded in the affirmative. I couldn’t refute her question nor the way she said it. It was the better choice not to answer with words. We got in and I played the chauffeur to the airport.

    As we went, my sister went over the itinerary. It sounded fun, especially the zoo. It would be just the one plane ride to reach Toronto, the big balloon of a city with its big pointy needle. A city on the edge of a potential kerplow. They would be there for three nights and on the third night mom would see him, Mr. Sheeran. He would sing for her like his life depended on it, if he knew what was good for him. 

    I, on the other hand, would be dog-sitting for a half blind and half deaf 18-year-old dog with separation anxiety. A tough mission, but I traveled across the country to do it. The pay was good. Molasses cookies.

    At the airport I helped with mom’s bag and we wished each other a safe and pleasant time. Myself and Cookie headed back to Mom’s place. (Cue high tempo yet tentative music that drops away as my car rides into the early dawn)

18-20: (Back to your regularly scheduled travelog) My moments away from Cookie were limited during these three days. I couldn’t take Cookie into many stores and I couldn’t leave him alone for more than 2-3 hours.

    What I did was quick and direct shopping with little exploring. Groceries were bought for my lunches and suppers, including stopping at the intriguing Fresh Cuts market. Giant Tiger and the biggest darn Great Canadian Dollar Store I had ever seen were visited, and yet only bought one thing there, were two other places I explored. Also on my list were two thrift stores, a liquor store (for a nice NS blueberry wine and an Amaro I hadn’t tried). At the liquor store I also saw a bottle of something I always laugh at…Great White wine. The bottle is huge, inexpensive, 20% alcohol, and if memory serves it tastes like very substandard sweet wine. It has been run by Peller Estate since 1965 in Truro Nova Scotia. BTW the "winery" is in an industrial park.

    There was one stop that really impressed me. Lanzalot Game Store in Blockhouse, between the highway and Lunenberg. It's a converted old red house. Boardgames, puzzles, and the cashier are on the ground floor. Miniatures and terrain are on the second floor. Storage and office are on the third (not open to the public). I spent a fun hour and a half looking around and chatting with the owner, recently retired from the military. 

    Nearby I quickly purchased two French pasties from Boulangerie La Vendéenne. One was an apple tartlet and the other was a chocolate croissant. Delicious.

    A purchase I made in one of the thrift stores I didn’t hesitate to buy. It was pure nostalgia from the past. The first animated G.I. Joe cartoons, for the five-episode miniseries that aired in September 1983…The M.A.S.S Device. I had some of the toys when I watched the series, which aired one episode a day during the week. My friends would rush to our homes, after school, to see each one. I remember thinking it was awesome with good guys (and good women) vs bad guys (and bad women). Great action and spy stuff. The series rested comfortably within my heart and mind. For $2.50 how can you go wrong, right?

    Then…when I came back home…I watched it for the first time since it aired. My young mind didn’t acknowledge the glaring plot holes, multiple MacGuffins, random Deux Ex Machina's, and blatant product placement to sell toys. I will still have warm fuzzy nostalgia for it, but I now can acknowledge its faults. Speaking of product placement, I have a funny story about the many cartoons and toys of the 1980’s.
When Ronald Regan was elected President, he initiated many pro-business deregulations to support his trickle-down economics. Before, cartoons linked to toys were considered advertising by the FCC and stations had to log them as part of allowable advertising time. This meant those kinds of shows were few and far between. With the loosening of these regulations under Regan, major toy companies rushed to have half-hour shows made to help sell their toys. After school time and Saturday mornings became video babysitters for parents at the expense of a demand for toy purchases. Each show added friendly messaging to provide an educational/moral lesson, to abide by new FCC regulations. When the Children’s Television Act of 1990 was passed, these toy driven shows faded into the background. The TV cartoons of the 80’s may have been market driven, but they were certainly memorable.

    During my time babysitting Cookie, I also took him on longer and longer walks to get more exercise. It was nice seeing him romping in the grass with a satisfied smile and reliving his youth.

21: Accepting the Target
(Cue frantic jazz at moderate volume) Around 9pm I got the message. They were back in Halifax. I drove to the arranged pickup spot, exit 7, for the handoff.
It was dark and remote and perfect. When I shut off the car, the animals voiced their eternal challenges and complaints to anyone who could hear them. The moon, as tired as I was, hid its many cratered eyes behind a blanket of dark clouds.

    A truck came up from behind. I tapped my brakes in code. I stepped out and greeted my contact. She said fun was had and my mother saw her potential third husband from afar, but there was no proposal. Ed Sheeran was already married. Mom said she enjoyed herself and that’s what mattered. The mission was a partial success.

    With my mom seated in the car and her bag in the trunk, we headed off to her home. I took a slightly longer way home. I said it was because I was throwing off a tail, but really, it was because I got lost. It mattered not. My stay in Bridgewater was soon to end. (Cue a slow horn solo that sounds like a lullaby)

16-17 August: Entrepreneurial Spirit, New French Capitol, and Preparing for Another Trip.

16 August: After breakfast and chatting we went downstairs with Cookie, mom’s dog. He’s 18 years old, mostly blind and mostly deaf. 

    We went to the car with a blanket, spread it out in the back seat, buckled Cookie in, and went to LaHave. Mom wanted to show me the bakery there. It was an impressive building, by the harbour, and has some history.

It was built in 1901, by the Boehner brothers, as a shipping and fish plant supply shop. It changed hands many times, became run down in the 70’s, and was bought by Gail and Mike Watson in 1983. After starting to fix it up, their investor friends pulled out and Mike had to go South on long haul fishing ships. Gail turned to one of the previous businesses here and started the LeHave Bakery, which became a hit through her hard work. With the extra space, Gail leased the rest of the building out and only asked for 30% of the entrepreneur’s profits instead of rent. Inside there is the bakery, cafe and sit down lunch place, craft and art store, book store, and several thrift shops specializing in clothing. It has become an attraction for locals and visitors. I could see why my mom liked it as it had a little of everything and was nice to walk through. We each had a ham and swiss sandwich, which was delicious.

We were about to head back when I checked my phone. I put a pin at a lighthouse a short distance away when I was doing research before this trip. Mom was interested so we drove about seven minutes away. Once we arrived, I saw that the lighthouse had a bonus. It was the site of the first capital of New France from 1632-1636, called Fort Sainte Marie de Grace. This was before Port Royal, now Annapolis Royal, became the capital of New France. 

There was a BBQ going on outside the lighthouse to make folks aware of disaster preparedness. They had portable short wave radio antennas up and kiosks open for educating the public. I read through the signs by the shore on the history of the fort while mom tried to enter the lighthouse museum. After I finished reading, she was sitting by the lighthouse steps as they don’t permit dogs inside. I asked her if it was alright to quickly see the inside and that perhaps she’d like to look at the kiosks. 

The museum was well organized and researched. I found out about this place and of Acadian history in the area. Lots of pictures were taken so I could read through them later and find out more if interested.

        On the way back we completed another errand then I wrote more in my travel journal while mom and Cookie rested. Mid-afternoon we all got into the car to travel to Tantallon, near Peggy’s Cove, for another reunion. My sister, and her husband Danny, were hosting a BBQ for us as well as my nephew Brodie and his new girlfriend. We chatted and got caught up on what each of us were doing. Adjourning inside to eat, on the menu were chicken burgers, corn, and hodgepodge (garden vegetable soup with cream broth). It was good to spend time with everyone and have time in person, rather than using remote conversation tools.

        We left around 8pm, so that everyone could get ready for work tomorrow. Mom and I relaxed until 930, when I felt the need for sleep to replenish my sleep batteries. 3.5km walked and 3 stories climbed.

17 August: Not much done today except helping mom complete last minute purchases and her giving me the rundown on food and facilities like laundry. After helping some of mom’s friends assemble a puzzle, we went downstairs for a supper of sweet and sour meatballs on rice with carrots. Mom and I went to bed early because someone was traveling and it wasn’t me this time.