Waving to the Russians

Yesterday afternoon in a  Fredericton Tim Hortons we met an interesting fellow. Big and burly, arms covered in tattoos that referenced the Springhill Mine Disaster, and about 60 years old, he struck up a conversation about the fires in Slave Lake. His daughter and grandkids were there - got out fortunately, after putting their valuables in the freezer, which kept them safe (note to self, this is a good idea). They're going to rebuild, and he's greatful for all that. The kids are making serious money on the Tar Sands of course, as so many do around here. When I wondered whether the environmental costs were too great, he mused that the whole world is falling apart, and people want to make money while they can. He told us his story. A child of a coal mining family, some of whom died in the 1956 Springhill Mine Disaster, he signed onto the Canadian Armed Forces through attending RMC in Kingston. We chatted about Kingston and then he told us a story about being in charge of a company of troops up in the Arctic in the 1970s. They were there to watch for Russians, up near magnetic North. Apparently each morning he would look through the telescope and wave to the Russians. Apparently they waved back. (NB - Mac questions this part of the story due to the curvature of the earth or something) One day, the helicopters were airdropping in the food and stuff and almost dropped it on him - "made me shake for days". No doubt. That would be a terrible way to go!  At the end of our chat, he offered to drive us anywhere we wanted. What a sweetheart.

We didn't spend enough time in New Brunswick. Despite my lovely New Brunswick housemate - honestly I know little about the province. It really doesn't have much of an image. When I think New Brunswick I think - bilingualism, Irving, and forests. And indeed, all three seem in evidence. But its really a friggin gorgeous place, from what I can see. Lots of rivers, mountains, forests and rock. We stayed with Kelly's mum and stepdad last night - as Mac mentioned. Hung out with her brother George and his partner Alana and swam and relaxed. It really was idyllic. The food, amazing. We saw a deer and massive number of june bugs. I wrestled Sidney and did cartwheels on their giant lawn. I think I could market it as an exercise regime. Seriously, wrestling a six year old is good exercise.
All this seemed particularly sweet after the never-ending rain of Halifax. We had a good time there, especially due to the punk rock magic of Pierre and Andrea, and the other superstars I've mentioned earlier. But don't get me wrong, but I don't believe it stopped raining one second of our four days there. Okay, maybe for a few seconds. While we were asleep.

But now we're on our way to La belle province. First stop Riviere de Loup (Wolf River?)!