Old Man in the Mountain (and Tweels)

Peter Rukavina

I leave the continent, and what happens? The Old Man in the Mountain collapses. Last summer, during our extended sojourn in New Hampshire, we had to drive north to collect our friend Stephen, and we drove through the area where the man formerly known as “of the mountain” hung. But, somehow, we missed the view, and returned south without having witnessed this natural miracle.

With Elephant Rock (in Norway, PEI) gone, and now this, I fear the natural wonders of the world are disappearing.

Speaking of which, correspondent Ann calls in with the shocking news that Tweels, the small gift and magazine shop at the corner of Kent and University in Charlottetown is moving to West Royalty. I’ve purchased a copy of The New Yorker at Tweels almost every Monday for the past ten years. With their move out of the downtown we’ll all be left with the paltry selection of magazines at the Bookmark as a last resort. I cannot for the life of me figure out why Tweels would do this. Granted their business, based as it is on selling magazines (which my friend Stephen says is a horrible complicated business) and Anne curios has never seemed to make a lot of sense. But does it make more sense in West Royalty (aka the suburbs)?

I think that when we return from Europe I will have no choice but to turn entreprenurial and start to help fill the ever-growing business gaps in our downtown. Otherwise Oliver will inherit 100 Prince St. and he’ll have to drive 10km for a quart of milk.

Sigh.

One more day in Barcelona, then London until Saturday, and back in Halifax for the weekend.

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Submitted by Alan on

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Ian Williams appears to have located the Old Man in the Mountain in his bedroom according to his latest blog entry. Maybe if he looks under the bed, he’ll find the missing mags and Anne trinkets.

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Photo of Peter RukavinaI am . I am a writer, letterpress printer, and a curious person.

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