HA!  joking of course.  we are back on the range.  we:  me and the ghosts that haunt me.  the gals are out there somewhere, on the road.  i’ve been out here on my own, on the range, for a brutal 5 days and 5 devastating nights.

we’re a long way from that travel day!  and we’re a long way from the kooky goings on in the mind, when riding the subway from Kipling Station to Bloor and Yonge.  yes lads that was quite an afternoon.  our movie star days are behind us for now.   my hair is slowly growing back.  i don’t look like a Klingon anymore.  i’m closer to Francis Ford’s version of the older Dracula:  the dude with the red outfit, laughing at Johnny Boy…  it will be “hat day” for daddy for another 300 days at least.

and so the gals are out there somewhere.  and i am here alone.  not spooked by aliens and abductions like last September!  nope!  no, we’re onto something diff now.  the mighty blue and green is out there.  the river is running slow.  slow like Labour Day.  there isn’t a sound save for the sand hill cranes buzzing the giant fields to the north.  and its wonderfully and beautifully hot.  time is 8 p.m., it has to be a grand and glorious 28 or 30 C, blue sky, no breeze.

had the run around this afternoon: the mighty painting drop off.  a whole winter’s worth delivered to art gallery addresses here on the island.  while muddling, i kept thinking about the river, and how grand it would be to be out there sun tanning, toes wiggling in the mighty Manitou.  of course out there you need a freshener so i stopped along the way to pick up a few German pilsners.  and thank goodness i had the wellness of mind to pick up something decent in the wine department down south, before i came up here.

it’s hot alright.  so we’re cooling with a Kistler Les Noisetiers Chardonnay, 2016, Sonoma Coast, perfect for a very warm summer evening where there is no need for much of anything as we have it all right here.

well almost all of it.  the girls come home sometime tomorrow night.  an address like this needs a few ladies.  their 6 inch heels clicking on these hardwood floors and their bikinis out drying on the line come this time of day!  ah yes.  i anxiously await their arrival.  the lawns are mowed.  the sunflowers are growing.  the hummingbirds are here.  and the moon is arriving closer and closer to dawn.  perfect timing for the ladies.

all the windows have been open for the past ten days.

and so here i am, alone, looking east:  17 acres of open wilds, green and blue.  Tuesday night.  July 10th.  what a grand and glorious summer night.  the chardonnay is precisely what the doctor ordered!  the 17 acres is part of what must be 10 thousand acres of wilds.  especially towards the north.  out there somewhere are the coyotes and we don’t want to be shaking hands with them tonight.

and finally:  my novel, a project i have been working on since 1996, is on the club house turn!  i have people looking at it right now, formatting, and i hope to have it in my hands and in your hands by July 30th!  it is a horror story.  it is a nightmare landing right here on earth.  it is a filthy and vile tale of wild Indian-ness.  but it is also very real.  the reason it took so long to finish is i didn’t have an ending.  then one morning on Island Park, back in April 2017, i was visited by a dream, and there was my ending, already written for me.  and so i wait for that formatting, a cover, we can agree upon, and STAMP!  roll it.  push the print button!

and that is the truth:  i did not have an ending.  mom is long gone.  going on, well it will be 5 summers since she came out this way.  gosh i miss her.

it was me and mom, we said and signed a contract, back in July 1996 (oh those WILD DAYS!!!) that we would each write a novel.  she wrote Once Upon An Island and had it self published, produced into a theatrical production complete with original music and yeah, they did alright with that.  silly me:  i never read the book nor saw the show…

but like i said.  it was the very wild mid to late 1990’s.  NR was a going concern back in those days.  a house on fire.  we needed all hands on deck to manage that one!  or miss manage as it turned out!

water under a bridge i blew up long ago.

and so here i am.  on the range:  a paradise on earth, alone!  but in a very comfortable chair, in a room with a view.  and no noise pollution.  no light pollution come 11 p.m.  just me and the great wide open, the flashy chardonnay, my fun shorts, my tanned toes on the mowed grass, and a library filled with books of wild adventures.  a pipe to smoke.

we shall cue this one and let it play.  we are in complete and total peace out here.  and so it is time to visit the lawn, the maple trees, the river and the great sky, with this one playing in the house, which of course i can hear, as all the windows are open.

another glass of this chardonnay will do it.

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