It’s a perfect morning on the Georgian Bay in Ontario. The half moon hangs like a daydream in the cerulean sky above, and a soft breeze off the water filters through the pines carrying a fragrance superior to anything Kim could produce on her best day.
All right, all right, Rupert, let it go!
That’s what vacation is all about: letting go. Hard to do when those work-related thoughts attack in the early morning, as they have been schooled to do the other 340 days of the year, but the trick is putting them back in their boxes, patting them on the head, telling them, “You’ll get your chance, but not today.”
Our hosts have built a green mansion on this rock in the bay, powered by a wind turbine and solar panels, and even have a solar powered boat that whispers across the water while the bass fishermen roar past tearing a deep trough in the surface in their cabin cruisers.
I’m limiting my connection to the outside world to this websayito (you won’t hear me say “blog” again — oops!) and the “Keeping Up with the Tyrants” show unfolding in the Middle East, which is just too rich to change the channel on.
It must be months since Assad has had a good night’s sleep. But right now all eyes are on Tripoli, and the question as to how the Old Bastard will go out, horizontal or like Hosni (well, guess he’s actually horizontal now also, on his gurney-cum-witness box) on trial for crimes against his people. I hope its the latter: this will put more pressure on Assad as he contemplates his own diminishing options.