When it came to his travel-wardrobe, Godfrey chose, practical, easy to stuff in his suitcase and keep clean.
Often he would rinse socks in gas station sink or running stream. He always wore Plaid as since a child had, favoring red, burgundy or puce. Seasonal earth tones, for his bloomer shorts gold, flowered or deep forest green.
He wore his boots until hard travel torn, and if he did not need a posession or aquired more than one, he would leave it out on the side walk for a person who had none.
When I met Godfrey at the Fair, that day we met, I took him for a motorbike ride he said he’d never forget, with me driving hard , Godfrey clinging on the back, we roared along the river through sink- hole and farm track.
His camp was not far from our house on Poet’s road, aptly named on the south bend, all that night we talked by his campfire , roasting marshmallows and watching painted turtles as they sat, warm on a log at sunrise. I took Godfrey home later to meet my dad and stepmother Mrs Gibberflat.
Luckily but sadly there was no one there, but Godfrey took immediate liking to the ugly chair, turquoise and very heavy ,Corinthian-leather Naugahide, I’d no idea what that was but Mrs Gibberflat found it on the highway and dragged it inside.
He proclaimed it a comfy, perfect writing chair, though the sharp wooden knobs on the arms made me think otherwise, and over the years, every visit from Godfrey he wrote lovely poems from the chair to my delight and surprise.
He told me he had been now in Canada one year, seeking Wisdom’ on the west coast, so far he loved every thing in Canada the most.
He said as a lad in Wales, every March without fail, would come a Christmas package in the mail. From relatives living somewhere near Montreal would send in the box a scenic calander Ma would hang proudly on the wall.
Images iconic like the combine in the grain, the schooner Bluenose and a long C.P. train. A loon on the water, Labrador puppies with a ball. Photos in the lovely calandar on our cottage wall.
Apparently given out yearly from a bank , a lighthouse wind wild and a scene from Peggy’s Cove, a freighter for November, on the Great Lakes, the famous one that sank.
Igloo in the cold ripe apples hanging ripe, red and gold.There was for the month of August a fish boat on the coast, but the one that I stood looking at the most, was that classic photo of Lake Louise in June- with the perfect reflection and the chap in the red canoe.
Year after year sister Alice and I knew, when the calandar came would be June and the red canoe…the canoe so small, so dwarfed by peaks and sky!!, we had fine mountains back in Wales, but never could I as a lad envision lake with reflection so true, how I longed as a lad to be that chap so free in his red canoe.
When my parent’s met Godfrey Mrs Gibberflat shook her head, dragged me from the room and scolded “where did you did you meet such a vagabond, dressed like an unmade bed” I proceeded to tell her the short tale of being bonked on my head… the rest is history, and THE 9th WISDOM OF GODFREY STATES- ‘IT IS MY FIRM BELIEF THAT PEOPLE ARE MORE LIKELY TO STARE IF YOU ARE WEARING NO CLOTHES AT ALL RATHER THAN TAKE NOTICE OF WHAT YOU ACTUALLY HAVE ON- FROM GODFREY.