HARVEST


You will reap what you sow goes the biblical saying, minus the pests, slugs and birds share. Clare’s garden, although small and contained, only about 500sqft, is producing some decent crops this time of year. It’s by no means a hobby farm, just a plot of manicured and tended dirt. 

In the spring we made some decent rhubarb pies and at present we are overloaded with zucchinis and string beans. We eat what we can, give away to our neighbours and friends who graciously accept our gifts of garden bounty even if they don’t like zucchinis. We’ve been feasting on lettuce all summer and the berry crops are enough for our daily cereal. There are a couple of pumpkins growing and some butternut squashes, a few onions and we already harvested the garlic. The cabbages are an experiment and a fight against the moths and slugs and the potatoes didn’t really live up to expectations. The tomatoes love this persistent dry, hot weather and they look like a bumper crop. Together with the basil and the garlic they will make some decent sauce for the winter. We have a canning pot and a few Mason jars and lids. Let’s not forget the spices: Tarragon, parsley, chives, dill, rosemary, thyme and hot peppers grown from our own seeds. We also have a fig tree that looks promising. Add to all that the wild black berries which are everywhere as well as the neighbour’s apples which are free for the taking and the sum total is the season of plenty. 

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HOT POTATO


            Our pub is crowded but Vicky holds our spots for us and we never disappoint. Like clockwork we show up and quaff our couple of pints most Thursdays. We talk at each other, sometimes with each other, other times around each other and we never run out of topics. Mostly we’re preaching to the choir, reinforcing our points of view, finding common ground in our opinions and ideas. A lot of our talk is driven by current politics, world affairs and the fate and state of our species. Right now, the 400+ raging wildfires in our province are foremost in our minds. We’ve been lucky here at the coast and haven’t had any smoke. So far so good.

Do you ever listen to the New York Times Daily?’ I asked Camp.

‘I’m too busy most days. Unlike you I’m still working and running a bookstore is a fulltime job, especially in the summer with all the tourists. I’m not complaining, just pointing it out.’

‘I listened to a segment the other day, on 4th August. It was about the wildfires. ‘According to David Wallace-Wells, a climate scientist, it is now clear that we are not in charge of nature anymore and that it’s the other way around. Nature is in charge once again and the 30 to 50 million acres of wildfires this summer in Canada are proof thereof. Smoke as far away as New York and Florida. 

In Canada alone this year, these wildfires are producing two to three times as much emissions as the entire Canadian economy — all of its infrastructure, all of its energy systems, all of its transportation, all of its agriculture, all of its factories, all of its cars. More carbon is being produced by wildfires this year in Canada than all of those other sources combined. If wildfires were a country, they would rank # 4 after China, Russia and the USA in terms of emissions. ‘The world is a hot potato’ as a friend of mine wrote in a song some 40 years ago.’

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GALLOWS HUMOUR


‘How do we maintain our sense of humour when faced with disaster and even extinction, although the latter is a longer process?’ I asked Camp when we were both settled in our customary seats at our seaside pub.

            ‘We can wallow in doom and gloom, moan and groan, feel sorry for ourselves and the whole human race or just get on with it, have a laugh, see the beauty all around us and cherish those close to us.’

            ‘Are you being serious Camp or is this just a refined form of sarcasm?’

            ‘No, I’m serious. Without humour and fun, we’re doomed for sure. Laughter is the one free commodity we can take as much of as we want to and the best medicine for depression or just a bad mood. To laugh at oneself is also rather sobering. Nothing quite as ludicrous as taking oneself too seriously.’ 

            ‘I guess that’s why it’s called gallows humour. As someone said to me the other day: It is difficult to conceive of any sense of humour about impending extinction.’

            ‘I suppose we could just give up and resign ourselves to this apocalyptic vision of tomorrow and then what? Life goes on if we like it or not. The human race will probably survive; maybe in the millions rather than billions, maybe we’ll grow palm trees and pineapples here in the Pacific Northwest and Greenland will be green again. Or I can join the new religion where the gospel is that everything from climate change to Covid is a conspiracy.’

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