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Meteorite Hits House in Golden
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Found
- Hits: 265
How did I miss this?
I mean, treasure for sure, but it found her:
Link: https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/meteorite-crashes-into-womans-bedroom-golden-bc
Now, given the provenance, a small fortune basically landed on the pillow beside her while she was sleeping...
Big City Blonde
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 255
She's familiar, in that way people who meet daily in restaurants and cafe's and yet want formal introduction. Forever on the peripheries of acquaintance, a mere 1 degree of separation, and then she'd disappeared.
I put it down to a change of schedule, quite possibly mine, and forgot about her. There's a whole host of people whom I should know by now, literally everyone, and that I haven't been introduced is a matter of timing and inclination.
Anyways, apparently it wasn't my schedule, it was hers, she's been away, Lower Mainland, the big city, and she's shown up again in the café a wet hot mess, blue pantsuit, expensive handbag, a ridiculous wheely-luggage thing that possesses the tiniest bag on the bottom, big enough for a pair of knickers and nothing else...
It's a prop to start the conversation; she's been away, on the coast...
She sees me, the glance of mutual recognition and the perplexity as to why we haven't been introduced...
Her dress, I've noted, always fashionable-sexy in a Vogue or magazine sort of way. Not in the Kootenays sort of way. A "Professional", but in what capacity?
The skit begins.
She begins by explains herself to the Barista's in terms loud enough for me to overhear. I need no introduction, I, and everyone else in the café, are going to be caught up to speed on her latest adventures.
She's been away, Lower Mainland, going on lots of dates, her problem, she's been told, is that she's "too nice", but that's part of her charm, her small-town values, and she doesn't want to lose these...
A proper coquette.
And she's a little whirlwind of Chaos, everyone stopping by to catch up with her, tribute paid to youth and beauty, and she's regaling them with her dating adventures, breaking to tell the Baristas that they still make the best cappuccino she's ever tasted, she's missed this town, it's home for her, really, even if she is now living on the lower mainland, and OMG, she needs change, she forgot how to feed these small town meters, hahahah...
She's completely oblivious and the sole actress and star of her own show, after Marilyn Munroe, and you can just sit and enjoy it until you can't take any more...
Work & Days Off
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 262
Sunday, JR's back - better (was he ever sick?), keen to work hard from 11:00 until 2:00 when he's off to catch his Ferry. In 2 weeks he's worked almost 3 hours, he's trying to prove his worth to his parents.
I'm not making this up.
The evening, slow, a very few tables but I have some regulars, preposterous tippers, that make up for the shortfall. 40% tippers. This is ridiculous.
One, a writer, author of a soon to be published spiritual autobiography, chatting to me at the bar, he's just having the final draft checked for it's "field of consciousness" rating.
"Clayton?" I ask, referring to the owner of a particular machine that beams consciousness into the world, whom I've referred to abundantly before. A major Nelson employer.
And, small world, so it is.
***
Monday morning, volunteering at the thrift shop. Get it done. After which lunch, the library, thrift shops, a few errands. Listen to the ambulances come and check on the homeless people in a stairwell, underpass, fire trucks, the weather, so-so.
Tuesday, up early, coffee, then Dentist. And this is the first time the hygiene tech completes the cleaning. The electric toothbrush, it's gotta be doing something.
Then, again, library, tacos, library again. Then to the Gym. This is the last of my punch pass, I've used it all up, musclebound and 2 weeks early. Now to buy another.
Treat myself with a trip to DQ.
***
The Car is proving a disaster. It's needing every fluid - gas (of course, they all do), oil, transmission fluid, power steering fluid, antifreeze, the fucking thing is leaky as a sieve, and there's no prospect (apart from my lottery ticket) of my buying another. Live with it.
These fluids need topping up every tank of gas. Not that I buy full tanks anymore, half-tanks only. But it's a snowball of debt just keeping it marginally on the road.
***
Wednesday morning, A* in the kitchen wants me to take her rock hounding. A few places, old haunts, we collect some garnets, fluorite, quartz crystals and silver specimens.
I'm sitting on a gold mine if only I had a place to upcycle it. A toolshed. An apartment. Anywhere, really. But, as it is it just weighs down the car.
I'm feeling the need for a place to live, but I have to wait until I've slain a few more debts...
A fools economy
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 231
And I've been doing the math, this homelessness, it's gotten a bit much. Even when I have a vehicle to stay in the expenses mount. No place to cook means all meals are taken out. A couple hundred bucks per week. Coffee. Another hundred. Gas, and the revolving expense of a perpetually broken/breaking down vehicle. The inability to entertain, or sit up late on the computer and write, or get at a few overdue rock & art projects.
It's costing me far more to not have a place than it would if I did have a place.
Out of pocket costs and Opportunity costs mount.
So, time to resolve things in my head, it's not forever but it's time to start looking for a place to call home...
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