what is it like in Nova Scotia?

A friend asks. Yes you can come along with me and Phebe some time. The librarian just handed me my new Western Counties Regional library card We have been here 8days now. Fog and rain two days, sunshine blue skies five days,one day half sun half fog. The town of Lockeport has shrunk to 700 souls. On Canada day, there were 6,000 on town(as the locals say) The mayor lives across the street a slim bottocelli angel who sez he's 36 but looks barely 24. He works with his dad at the garage next door. The dad is the man in the know in town. A very friendly place. We are two minutes from a beautiful beach that we can see from our house. Even better sight lines once we put in the dormers and a deck. Record heat on the south shore but it is always cooler in Lockeport. We go to sleep and wake up to the sounds of the sea. I came to the library about 30 minutes ago. Phebe was reclining in the backyard reading Updike. She finished Bodily Harm(Atwood) in a day. In the morning she rode bike and walked on the beach. We bought two Kayaks. She sets sail tomorrow. I am waiting for my kneees to get better. She has been in the ocean, but it is brisk. A different kind of blog aimed at responding to someone who commented on an earlier blog(whom I cherish!)

The Bakers of Pikeville, Pa & Lockport,Nova Scotia

Phebe called me from Nova Scotia this AM planning to settle on a house by the sea in a sleepy little town. Sooo border crossings in our future. I'll pick her up in K town Monday . Without Phebe in my grill, I was adrift,almost as much as the inside cat when she wanted in at 2am the last two mornings. Did a little mowing,planning to exercise the knees in the pool,walking with difficulty, in the midst of a series of shots of "syn/gin? that are supposed to provide lubrication in the aching joints;we will see. Today the Belmont. I'll go to the watering hole for lunch,then bet the race at OTB,come home mow more,into the pool and then we'll see. May go to a conservative evangelical church tomorrow, a day of testimony from new members. An old ball player working his way out of trouble has got me into reading and thinking about the big G or G _ _ess. I miss her(not the Goddess,the reflection of her in Phebe) so I guess I love her or at least am not whole without her.Exchanged phone messages with the local married kids. Hope they get back to me.

MP sez that Heidegger talking about how one evaluates the writing of a thinker of substance that it is difficult for one to measure the work because there is much more there than what is apparent.."The richer is that which through this work and through it alone, comes towards as never yet thought of ." MP goes on to talk about about husserl who at the end of his life ,according to MP, had an unthought of element in his works which is wholly his and yet opens out on something else...I gotta chew on this for a little while.

Reflecting

There was a time I did it without thinking. Yet how can one reflect without thinking? A mirror can do it, a body of water, a window, the eyes of another. I guess what I was trying to say was that thinking was second nature to me and that reflecting on what I was doing presently was closely related to what I had done sometime before, and in a sense contemplating what I might do in the future if the same conditions prevailed. I had a brief love affair with Merleau-Ponty when I thought he was talking directly to me and then the moment passed. A friend's immersion in a warm mud bath got me to thinking again. And so I turned to Merleau-Ponty once again. In SIGNS he says "to think is not to possess the objects of thought;it is to use them to mark out a realm to think about which we therefore are not yet thinking about." These remarks are in an essay about the phenomenologist Husserl entitled "The Philosopher and his shadow".

I'm in a ruminating stage right now awaiting an outpouring. In a way I'm marking my territory like an animal perhaps to warn people off, but only in the sense that my thinking is emerging, not even comprehensible to me except for a feeling that I ill return again and again until I get it straight or until I leave it behind because the scent has dissipated.