Last night I was invited to a beach bonfire with libraryfolk and it occurs to me I am learning more about what it might be like to be a north islander. Saturday past some high school students were talking about their beach fires and how that’s what you do since it’s all there is to do in Campbell River. The bits of beachfire-making knowledge those teens shared with me (a prairie-dweller and terrible fire maker) had all these echoes out in the evening with people who were talking about their grandkids.
I don’t know what the Winnipeg-centric equivalents to that shared intergenerational but local experience would be. I guess if I was a person who’d had a tradition of beach-going I’d have more connection to this, but it’s still a bit different having to drive for an hour compared to riding you bike for 15 minutes down to a suitable beachy spot.
I had my first ever performance review last week and with that I’m now officially a permanent employee. I understand that’s supposed to be a good thing, but man, I think in my head the word permanent is only ever linked with disability and death. “Permanent employee” is a term that screams its own lying nature. Almost all those old hand library workers on the beach last night eventually stopped being employees, and the ones that haven’t yet will someday.
But the beach and a fire and enjoying the fact that our winter was negligible (though dark) were all fine things to experience temporarily on a Wednesday night.