goodbye Zoë
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
What a day. My mum and I went up to Bobcaygeon today to get my things from Sara's parents' place. We had to cab it over to the rental outfit for 9, then spent 2.5 hours chugging up there. The traffic on the 401 on a Saturday morning is heavier that it ever gets on Sydney's streets.
On the way up, we had a special treat. We saw a bird eating some carrion on the side of the road. Something about it caught my eye, and as we neared I saw that it was no crow. It was too large, with odd colouring and feathers. It stopped eating as we neared, and walked in an awkward fashion. It was a turkey vulture. I knew they lived in Ontario, but this was my first sighting in the twenty years I've lived in the province.
When we arrived, Sara's mom greeted me with a hug, and said 'Ex-son-in-law!'. It was a warm welcome. Zoë was there. I'd mentioned in this journal that I hadn't expected to see her again. The kid's only young, but she's made quite a thing over the time I've known her about the comings and goings of the men in her mum's life. She really didn't want me to go, either – she even tried to interfere with my getting the things into the truck. And she had some success – she is getting big.
I lugged the stuff to the truck, then joined mom and Sara's mom, who were having a coffee. Tom joined us after showing some people the B & B. The folks had booked a room for two nights, so he was pleased. He told us some amazing things that had happened since he opened the B & B. I think my favourite was of the people who turned up one morning, just for breakfast!
Then it was back in the truck. We dumped the stuff off at my new 9'x12' storage unit, alongside the stuff I got from Oma's place yesterday.
Then up to the car rental place, where they were surprised I'd driven the cube for 400km...
On the way back from the car rental outfit, mom suggested that we pick up a flick. She wanted to see 'Run, Lola, Run'. We went into her local video joint, and by the time we were leaving, the three young (and evidently, from the faces, accents, and the selection of Anime, Japanese immigrants) kids behind the counter were repeatedly chanting the name, trying to get the pronunciation right.