CFA

On Saturday, I went to breakfast at a coffee shop in town with my new friend Matthew. He saw a game on the shelf that he hadn't seen "in years" and we pulled it down: Newfoundlandia. It was Trivial Pursuit, but all about Newfoundland. Like Trivial Pursuit, it had an expiry date on its relevance, now long past. But he did know one answer: What is the acronym CFA? "Come from away. Like someone who comes from away, not Newfoundland." I have christened this my new favorite acronym.

We then headed to Cox's cove, down the bay on the north side... it's a quiet town with a strange, tilting staircase leading down to the beach. Beside the staircase is a playground, old and rusty, surrounded by a chain link fence that says "Private Property, use at your own risk." We took a spin on the merry-go-round, and reminisced about deadly playground equipment.

Then we walked down the staircase, Marvin in the lead, running like he was falling head first. All along the beach were strange rocks, fallen from the strange cliffs above. We picked along, remarking on the rocks, "look, it's an ice cream cone," "this is like a mortar, or maybe a pestle," until we reached a collection of 15 tiny square houses, and a sign: The resettled community of Brake's Cove. Resettled, I suppose, meaning people were settled away from it.

There were no people present, though the houses were clean and often looked just-used, like the people had just stepped out to the grocery store. Coats hung on hooks, flowers in the gardens. People must use them now as vacation homes. But no one was there. Across the bay were more little houses; every flat spot in Newfoundland that's on the water has a couple of houses.



I played Settlers of Catan that night, and you'll be happy (dad, Jess) to know that I won that night. Strategy: wheat and ore. Oddly, everyone here seems to play Settlers.

I bought my first Newfie dress - polyester, short-sleeve secretary dress in lilac paisley. Good stuff.

Tomorrow I give a talk, but I'm trying not to think of it. Mostly I'm focusing on my latest Newfoundland fiction: Random Passages. I have yet to form an opinion on it; it's definitely less schmaltzy than the last one, which was utter crap.

I'm feeling oddly American these days. I wish I were around the U.S. to complain about politics and get exasperated at people who seek simple solutions to difficult questions. I have decided that my personal heroes are lawyers and politicians. Good lawyers defend the weak against the strong. Good politicians shape society to propel the weak. The bad lawyers and the bad politicians aren't worth mentioning.

There's no connection for me to Canadian politics. Maybe if I find some political blogs up here; so far, politics seems more distant to me. There's a veneer of liberalism, as with the social programs and general niceness, but underneath it is a dangerous detachment. Environmental laws are shaped to avoid participation and are weak anyway. Litigation is very difficult, at least in my reading of it so far, and rarely used in environmental cases. Litigation has pushed environmental policy in the U.S. when the market has repeatedly failed. Litigation pushes, governmental subsidies pull, and business practices change. Some invisible hand, that.