You might say we live quiet lives, spending most of the time outside during the day and quiet evenings at home, taking turns on dinner, reading, surfing or watching TV. We eat well, live active, lots of sleep, drink little. Go to bed, get up and repeat.
Throw in pilates classes, hair and nails, doctors and dentists, shopping at the market and some days the pace becomes downright grueling. However there is no more dangerous Hazard to the Health than… Bunkie Guests.
Friends from Anarchist Mountain (don’t you love that name) in the BC interior close to the US border were here this week, on a visit which unfortunately coincided with 4 continuous days of grey clouds, cool days and on and off rain. Welcome to the Wet Coast. During the day we stoically ignored the weather and toured around, including a visit up the coast to Comox where we had lunch in our favorite eatery with its panoramic views over the harbor and across to the Island mountains. Well usually. On the day we went we had panoramic views of, well, of clouds completely covering and blocking all view of any mountains, so instead I described the view they would have seen; no doubt they were fascinated and awestruck.
Evenings were spent around the cleared-off dining room table, playing the board game Settlers of Catan, yacking and drinking and laughing, staying up far too late like the good old days. As the night went on, the old tunes came out. You can always tell what kind of night it’s been by the stack of old CD’s left by the music machine, to wit: Bob Dylan – Highway 61 Revisited, Rolling Stone – Forty Licks, The Who – Who’s Next, Jethro Tull – Aqualung, and so it goes. Someone mentioned that the evening felt like a scene from The Big Chill, which prompted a heated debate over what were the opening and closing songs from the movie, with both sides adamant about their recollections of this 30-year old movie. (Correct answer: Rolling Stones-You Can’t Always Get What You Want, Credence Clearwater Revival-Jeremiah Was a BullFrog). As the evening would progress the game became slower and slower as every roll of the dice inspired more jokes and merriment, to say nothing of accusations of cheating and vehement denials, until it became obvious to all that there would never be an end to it and it was time to pack it in.
On Wednesday night, after all had retired, I watched the Season 1 Finale episode of Homeland, a series I’ve become attached to. Claire Danes is amazing in it and the suspense is addicting. I record it from its 7:00 spot, but always watch it later that night because I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next. This night I sat facing the screen, fast-forwarding the commercials, appearing to be watching the show. The reality was that I was far too wrecked to pay attention so when I finally turned off the final cliff-hanging-till-next-season scene and headed to bed, I knew, there was no doubt, that I’d have to watch it again the following day to fill in the gaps. One of those nights.
Fun fun fun but now our friends have gone, heading back out on the ferry, and wouldn’t you know it the weather has cleared and the sun is shining. Like those supposed mountain views, who knows if they will believe my descriptions of our glorious sunny Left Coast weather. “Really, just last week it was sunny and beautiful. It never rains here.” No doubt I will be healthier now, back to routines, early nights and moderation. For awhile. Until we welcome the next batch of Bunkie guests. After all, too much moderation may be too much of a good thing.