The wind, what little of it there was, was from the north-east. The Hammer and I did not mind. We are Canadians - I had anti-freeze in my veins, the Hammer insulated by her coat better than Donald Trump and the fuckheads who would vote for him are insulated from reality.
There was just enough wind to blow the coldest rain of the season into our faces as we made our way upriver on the muddy path. It was snowing on the near mountains less than 500 feet above us. The mountains would have looked pretty if it were not dark as a prison hole even at mid-day.
There was no one else around. There are somewhere around 2 million people who live around Dope City. 1,999,999 of them were either shopping in the fucking mall, serving them, laid up or in prison.
We did not miss them. We had 2 million rain drops to keep us company.
You are never quite alone in Canada however. We had a few herons keeping a blue eye on us and an eagle brightening the sky however briefly.
I wrapped presents when I got home. The Hammer curled up on her blanket and dreamed. It got dark and the room we were in was lit up by Christmas lights and stereo components. Had the Beach Boys Christmas album on.
I opened a bottle of wine and waited for Sonja to come home.
"Why are you sitting here in the fucking dark?" she asked as she got herself a glass and joined me. She did not turn on a light however. Now we were both on holidays. The wine tasted good. As all things do when the lights are dim.
1 comment:
Merry Christmas Mr. Beer and Sonja. Mrs. Motorcycleguy and I will follow your lead and do the same. Don't have a Christmas Beach Boys, our tradition this once a year is to put on the same old '50's vinyl White Christmas LP of Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters. Both sides of course. I like the photo. There is one on my living room wall with a bearded guy in the foreground, wearing a motorcycle shirt and drinking a mini-bottle of Crown Royal.....carried all the way from East Van.
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