I’m sitting here, in my pajamas and full of clams, quite content except for the fact that we’re perched rather precariously on the line between the sweetness of wow-there-are-so-many-days-of-vacation-still-spreading-before-us and the bitterness of oh-no-it’s-half-over-but-I-don’t-want-to-go-home-yet.  It’s beautiful out here, and wild, and lousy with all kinds of majestic natural beauty, which I guess is okay, if you like that sort of stuff.  Which we do, and which is why Mike spent more than a few minutes the other night surfing real estate listings, and brainstorming solutions to the problem of lack of jobs in his field and being so far from our family and friends and whether the dog would completely melt down if we had to ship her via Fedex to the east coast.  No immediate solutions sprang to mind, so I guess we’ll be returning home in a little over a week, but I’m sure we’ll re-adjust to life in the K-Dub, a zillion miles from the nearest ocean and even further from mountains and fresh clams.  We always do adjust — Mike always looks at real estate while we’re on vacation and we always still come home without the deed to a new house in our carry-on — and coming home is nice. (Right?) 

We’ve sat on the beach and gone on a rather unexpectedly rugged hike in the Cape Breton Highlands National Park that was surprisingly rife with moose (we saw two, which is roughly two more than I have ever seen anywhere other than the sad Canada section at the Toronto zoo) and watched the sun set across the island from the point around the corner from the cottage.  We toured a distillery that makes the only single-malt whisky in North America and I even managed to choke down the sample at the end of the tour without letting on to the fact that I generally find scotch to be pretty vile.  I’ve also read two books so far and slept in until 9:30 every morning and drank tea in front of some old episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Tomorrow we’re going to go wander around town and on Monday we’re going to drive a chunk of the Cabot Trail we haven’t seen yet and go watch some whales.  We leave for Halifax on Wednesday and I really have to say that thus far this trip has been the perfect blend of doing something and doing nothing.

The only other remarkable thing that has happened is an unexpected encounter with some wildlife, which I suppose is to be expected, since this cottage is in the middle of nowhere, a fact that brings me great joy, and also great numbers of spiders and other miscellaneous critters.  People often comment that they learn a lot about themselves while on holiday — that they need to read more, or rest more, or take more time for themselves — and I think I too have learned a little something about myself this week, although sadly it’s just the fact that I am afraid of bats (specifically bats in the house; outdoor bats I find kind of cute in a creepy kind of way) which is a character trait I was unaware I had until one appeared and started swooping in the general direction of my head.  We’re still not sure how he got into the cottage or where he went, but Mike reassured me confidently that it was gone, although I think I only believe him about 80%.