I have been hearing this phrase all my life. Bedhead, hung over, sick, whatever, if you were in any kind of damaged state you always heard “jesus girl you’re like the wreck of the hesperus” and like all our other lovely family traditions (crippling self consciousness, bad spelling, co-dependency) I have carried it on to the best of my ability. Even Neil has been known to break out the wreck comment a time or two at the first sight of me emerging from the lair at the crack of noon on a Sunday.
I never actually read the poem until today. Holy mother of god what a depressing mess that is, frozen children lashed to ship masts floating in the cold sea and everything. That’s my heritage for you in a nutshell, death and mayhem on the high seas transformed into a turn of phrase that is apparently appropriate for commenting on your appearance.
Anyway I was reading it as my own Wreck is heavy on my mind. The devis have gone to the bank and today I called the lovely Debra at the Royal Bank in Halifax to authorize a wire transfer of half of all the money I have in the world so I can get this show on the road.
It’s really something this Wreck business. Like the plans for the layout that seem to change every 5 minutes, I go back and forth on this decision. On the one hand it feels bat-shit crazy to use the first real savings I’ve ever had to buy a house in a town that I don’t really know much about and a job that I know even less about. On the other hand why the hell not? It’s not like I’m getting any younger. I came all the way over here to seek adventure and besides what the frig would I do with my time if I wasn’t busy creating chaos for myself?
Obviously there is a fair bit of risk here. Today I was caught up in the ‘what ifs': what if the new job doesn’t work out?; what if one of us gets sick? But then I thought if one of us were really sick then house, money, job, none of that will matter. All that would matter then is each other.
Anyway the whole thing continues to be ridiculously surreal. It’s a bit like those situations where you know you should feel sad and shed a tear but all you can think about is ice cream or the 40% off sale at Banana Republic. I know I should be panicked but it’s just not there. I have a certain level of concern but even that seems far away from me.
So like the Hesperus I shall sail on with the Wreck of Rue Lazare leaving my fate to the wind and the waves hoping to avoid the rocks on the shore. The stormy sea may swallow me but at least I will have given it a go. And maybe, just maybe, Gordon Lightfoot will write a song about me…
Thank you Bobbi,
I enjoy your writing so much-never mind Gordon Lightfoot, I hope you are planning to publish all this adventure. No kidding you are gifted. I really enjoy all your Newfoundland sayings and humour.
Good luck.
Frankie (Halifax)
P.S. Winter is poking it’s cold, white head out in parts of the province. How’s your weather?
Snow in Semur today!!! Not a snow tire to be found, cripes…
B
OMG – this is just weird. I was reading a comment on “The Wreck” a couple of days ago and the same saying came to mind. Now, I have to go and read the darn thing. Tks Bobbi!
Ha ha! I heard this all the time growing up and I’m just a Nova Scotian!
Best of luck with the ongoing Wreck reno.
Hi Bobbi,
I do not comment usually but read your blog daily. If you could find a source to publish your witty, entertaining words you would pay for the wreck overnight.
When I met you way back in the 70’s as a transfer to St.Augustines from Pius I thought you were larger than life.
Your adventures of present play out as no surprise. I admire you for your spunk and spirit. I am a lurker but always wishing you well as you drink your french wine in France and I drink mine her in Outer Cove.
I love reading your blog. Keep writing and taking things as they come!
i have situations constantly when I know I should feel something so I just say that I feel what I am supposed to be feeling. I learned to do this by becoming observant. Sometimes I literally feel no thing. Maybe I am psychopathic in this. It is not for lack of desire/trying/prodding. Just the way it is.
I think the lack of panic could be a good thing. Doesn’t that mean your subconscious isn’t worried?
OMG – I’ve had this phrase thrust at me all my life as well!! I read the poem a wee while ago after I mentioned it to a patient and he knew a lot more than I did (like the author). So I searched it down and shared it with him (I don’t think it helped his mood much either). My mother had never come across it either and she was the one that has forced the phrase upon me and into daily usage so I posted it to her. More joy spread there – not. Anyway, I don’t have any insightful comments to add, just thought I was the only one, so glad I’m not.