Don't pay the ferry-man

Yesterday, we took the Glenora ferry to the mainland. Our intent was to drive to Kingston, get on the ferry to Wolfe Island, and just see what was there. We got as far as Kingston. When we saw that there was an hour and a half wait, we collectively thought about all the shops we'd seen on Princess Street in Kingston.

My Dad and I wandered into the Army Surplus store. He hates the military, primarily because he served in it when he was young. But he has always been fascinated by Army Surplus stores. He waxes quite nostalgic about his RMC days, for a guy who was not happy to be there. :-)

I go into military surplus stores because you can buy rugged clothes for working outdoors at a tiny fraction of the cost you'd get going to some outfitters, let alone Roots (who would wear expensive brand name Roots wear when chopping down dead trees for firewood?)

After that, we wandered over to the music store. I picked up a guitar tuner - I normally use this huge old box tuner, and I wanted one I could put in my pocket. My Dad, who only recently picked up the guitar again,  asked if they had songbooks. The fellow working there said no, and started giving us directions to some obscure place in the "east end." We politely nodded, and left, with no intention of driving all over Kingston. (Yes, I am a musician, and if you are curious my music can be found here. )

Today, my daughter is going horseback riding along the beach. I've done this trail before, and as spectacular as riding along a stone shore is, I think the passage through the Mohawk graveyard is more fascinating. It was a quiet and reverent passage, when I went.

Tomorrow, sadly, we pack up and head to my brother in law's cottage, to help him finish the work on the barnboard kitchen. There's no Internet there, so my journal will fall silent (for real, this time. :-) On Friday, our annual family camp begins.

The family camp is a peculiar rite - my wife's family all heads for an island in the middle of Big Gull Lake. There we all pitch a camp for three days, sing songs, cook on a fire, and do fun contests for the kids. There's no electricity and no facilities on this island - it is just a bare island. We all joke about how this must mean we love wallowing in dirt. But we've done it for two decades - even my mother in law camped in a tent there in her last year. She was trying to use the next family camp as her motivation to keep going.

She didn't make it sadly - but we put the box with her ashes in a tent, and put her sun hat on the box (in her chair) during the day. So I suppose she sort of made it. :-)