The Puddle

Yes, more rocks: I took a break from the books to drive down to Gananoque this past weekend where Rocktoberfest was taking place. This is the annual festival of dry stone walling put on by DSWAC. I spent a day this summer helping to haul out some of the stone that was being used for the walling workshops, and it was great to see everything coming to life. The weather was impeccable and the air rang with the sound of chiseling. Projects on the go for the weekend included: an outdoor fireplace, an arched gateway to a hiking trail, and a dry-stone bridge over an active brook. On the way down, we stopped at Angelo's, a fantastic diner where the 416 meets the 401. It's the cheapest breakfast I've had in a while.

I've been stuck in bed all week with an abominable cold. I'd like to say it's given me time to catch up on my reading, but really I've just watched a lot of bad TV, abused vitamins, and made vaguely incoherent to-do lists. I woke up at 3 this morning, sweat dripping down my face, feeling better, sooo much better, so incredibly better that I thought I should maybe get up right now and go jogging, or reorganize my entire room and then give my bikes a thorough cleaning and then read the collected works of James Joyce. I managed to coax myself back to bed. Cold medicine is powerful stuff.