Waiting for the boat this morning

  

This morning I was down at the dock early, waiting for the boat — watching for a speck to come around the point headed towards me. Bob had been off-island for 12 days, and I was eager to see both him and the cargo he was bringing. The surface of the water was black in the shadow of the cliffs, and pewter out in the open. 

When the boat arrived, Millie and Steve O. were also on it, but 90% of the freight turned out to be ours:  plywood and clay and tools and gasoline, laundry and food and food and food.  Bob had grocery shopped til 2 am, then slept til 4:15 am before heading back onto the road.  We’ve never had this many groceries at once before; tomorrow we have to build more shelves to hold everything.  Right now, half the stuff is still in plastic totes outside the back door because there’s nowhere  to put it.  He said he has this vague sensation of potential social chaos connected with the election (and/or the economy) and he felt driven to stock up.  No doubt this was influenced by shopping in the middle of the night on All Hallow’s Eve, but he’s not the only one.  A couple of our neighbors are experimenting with growing wheat and other grains, alongside the regular vegetables, so that we can be more self-sufficient.  The future has a slightly eerie edge.

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