When Strange Things Happen

And why they happen

I’m once again aboard the Queen of Cowichan, this time sailing back to my temporary home in Nanaimo. For the most part, the ferry is sparsely populated, but there are more strange animals lurking about on the 10:10 than there would be on an earlier sailing. I suppose that’s to be expected.

But how much could there be to tell after an overnight stay in Vancouver? Certainly, more than I would have thought. Some details I dare not tell for they may be more pressing and private than would allow me to share freely. Even without touching on those sensitive matters, there are some rather strange incidents to reflect on.

First and foremost, spending an evening with like-minded artists, creatives, and entrepreneurs in Maple Ridge was nothing short of a metaphorical electrical surge. It was everything I’d hoped for and considerably more.

I handed out all but one Clean Slate postcard in my possession, for the most part attempting to make personal, articulate, moving invitations. As the night wore on and everyone was starting to notice the time, it got to “You guys into live music?” but I managed to avoid such dribble for the most part.

Post-event, after dropping off a friend in Vancouver, I drove to my Airbnb in Burnaby. Finding said home, in the rain, in the dark, was the…