I went for a walk today, and when I wasn't choking on exhaust it was pretty nice. It is nice and cool out thanks to the snow on the ground and the just below freezing temperatures. I have been dealing with a sinus infection since I have been back in British Columbia, and today I had a particularly nasty sinus headache. I figured some fresh air and a little exercise would be helpful, and I was right.
I live just down the street from a thrift store affiliated with the Mennonite church. It is actually a great thrift store, it is filled with stuff that you would see at people's grandparents houses. Admittedly I love that type of stuff. If it is old and if most people would consider it tacky I am probably going to take it home with me. Well not really, but I would at least think about it.
The one thing I almost bought was a little box with Peruvian Worry Dolls in it. I love those things, but then I had a thought...should one buy previously owned worry dolls? Does that mean they won't be free to cater to my worries? So I set them back down, but I wanted them. I have a weak spot for Peruvian Worry Dolls and I have since I was a child. Don't ask why. I wouldn't be able to tell you why, because I have no idea.
I am probably going back to that thrift store again tomorrow because there was a lamp there that I need to buy. I only sort of need it, but I definitely want it. It will go really well with the lamp I bought there the other day, and it is only $10 so why not? What I really need is a bookshelf and a dresser. I really don't want to give in and start hanging my clothing on hangers, but it seems that I am going to need to do that. I would much rather fold them and put them in drawers, but I only have four little ones.
I like thrift stores right now. After years of shunning them I have returned. Why? I am fascinated by things that old people have owned. I guess it is because in many ways I am fascinated by old people. I know it is odd to say, but I look forward to getting old. Imagine all the cool stuff I will have...
February 26, 2009
February 25, 2009
When the World was New
What is it about where I am that stifles me so much? I want to write and over the past few days I have tried, but I cannot seem to find anything to say. A little over a week ago the world was new, bright, fresh and exciting. My jaw was slack and wide in awe, and I seemed to be drinking it all in. Every minute the world assaulted me with its beauty, but now it seems to have retreated. I don't want to look around me, and when I force myself to I don't see anything there. I am blinded by the monotony of this place. Familiarity should bring comfort, and it does, but the problem is that comfort seems to dull even the sharpest of minds.
My plea is as follows...Take me anywhere but here. Take me to a place where I will be able to see again. Take me back to the place and the time when the world was new, and if you can not, bring me forward so that I may witness the day when it renews itself and my vision is restored.
My plea is as follows...Take me anywhere but here. Take me to a place where I will be able to see again. Take me back to the place and the time when the world was new, and if you can not, bring me forward so that I may witness the day when it renews itself and my vision is restored.
February 16, 2009
The Homecoming
I am here, and yet I am not. Where I am is where I have been, but where I have been is not necessarily where I want to be right now. What I need is to find my path among the cluttered streets and the filth. It is dirty here, you know. If you had my eyes right now you would see it too. No longer do I stare at the pristine blue skies and bright white crystal snow. On the horizon I see a layer of smog, not the edge of the world. On the street sides I see crowds of houses among the litter, no longer do I see the wide open spaces that stretched into forever. I have seen these things you know, and I have been entranced by their beauty. Bleak and barren, but with the promise of fertility. To all my friends, I love you all, and I am happy to be close to you again. However, know I am in mourning, and also know I have changed. My mind is a wide open space looking out onto the horizon, and there is a road I must take. Once I find that road, or it finds me, I will be gone again.
February 15, 2009
YEE HAW! You are in for a Wild Ride! a.k.a Buck-up Buckaroo its not that Bad
I am currently sitting in the Calgary Airport. Overhead that hideous new Beyonce song is playing...no...not anymore it is Lady Gaga now. Who dresses cool, but that may be the extent of her appeal if you want my honest opinion.
Next to me rests a very distraught kitty, who is currently taking a break from his soft meows and spinning around in the carrier for a quick....oh don't you say it....but I want to....ok fine but you are going to seem like an idiot....so what.... a quick cat nap. *snickers* Honestly it is no laughing matter, he is very unhappy. He isn't responding the same this time to the half of a sedative. He was angelic when we flew out to Regina, but cleary all this hopping around is wearing his patience thin. No drug can convince him otherwise. To make matters worse I had a urination oopsie to attend to. Oh how pleasant....now I can't get the smell of cat pee out of my head....could be because I now smell like cat pee. Maybe that means the next person that sits next to me on my next flight will leave me alone (story will come later).
My flight experience so far has been mixed. First of all, the woman that checked me in was miserable, which would have been fine with me if she had done her job properly....she didn't though. What happened? Well, I waited 20 minutes in a line-up to go through the security checkpoint. No problem. I am seriously a pro at the security checkpoint. I know what to put in each little bin and exactly how much... BUT BUT BUT BUT.... I unloaded all my stuff, pulled out my laptop, took off my coat and sweater and I was pumped ready to pull the cat out and walk through the metal detector....when I asked for the go ahead to do so the guy looks down at my boarding pass and says "You have a cat?". No, it isn't a real cat I just bring my stuffie along for plane rides so I can play pretend. YES I HAVE A CAT. Look at me...I am covered in cat fur because he is one stressed kitty. The guy tells me to hold on so that they can verify my cat is authorized to be on the plane. That is cool whatever. But then they came back and told me there wasn't anyone upstairs that could verify it so I needed to go downstairs to the check-in desk and START ALL OVER AGAIN. I said “alright” with a sigh “but will I need to stand in that line-up again?”. He nodded and said it shouldn't be that bad. Meanwhile it was at least two and a half times the length it was when I was in it the first time. I was...I was...well I don't want to say what I was, but let me just say I came near to the point of telling him that it was their mistake so they had just better find someone to check my booking out because I didn't want to stand in that line-up again. But I didn't do that... He said he was sorry and that they have been screwing up at check-in all day. I can guess why, because I had to deal with the miserable hag downstairs.
I relented, went back downstairs and very unhappily waited in the line-up to check-in for the second time. I approached a different woman at the check-in counter, and she looked at me raised an eyebrow and asked me how my day was going. I was honest. From that point it was smooth sailing. She sorted it out, escorted me back to the security checkpoint and to the front of the line....not the very front, but close enough. No sooner did I get through the checkpoint I hear my name called overhead requesting me to report to my gate. Really? Not another complication I hope, and at this point I can't help but smirk at the idea of another problem. Turns out it wasn't a problem, actually the woman downstairs requested that one of the flight attendants meet me at the gate and help me get situated. I would never have requested such a thing, but definitely appreciate them putting out the effort to make sure my experience is as comfortable as possible. The flight attendant's name was Danny and she looked and sounded very similar to Sarah Silverman. Except she had a tiny little nose stud, and apparently loves cats. She wanted to carry him, but I wouldn't allow it. I am an overbearing, overprotective cat mother...so no you can't carry my cat.
Danny helped me get situated on the plane, brought me a cup of ice for boots because apparently it helps sometimes. The man that was assigned to sit beside me (well it turns out later that he is unable to differentiate between a b and a d) showed up, so she said if i needed her for anything to call, and went about her business. The guy sat down beside me and he .....wreaked of alcohol....great. You have got to be kidding me. Very first thing he does is say “so you made it through did you” with a drunken chuckle.
“Yes I did, they made a mistake, didn't book the cat”.
“Oh you have a cat?”
“Yes”
“In cargo?”
“No, at my feet”
“Oh”.
That is the last thing he said to me and I certainly wasn't about to strike up a conversation with him. Drunky Skunk. It was about at this point that the guy that was supposed to sit in that seat showed up...but they traded instead of righting the situation. So I spent the rest of the flight nervously attending to my cat, and the drunk spend the rest of the flight staring at me nervously attending to my cat. I suppose if he wants to watch someone while they are bent over with their cheek pressed against the seatback in front of them so that they can reach well enough to stroke their cat with a couple fingers to calm him that is his perogative. You can look at me all you want, but it is not a guarantee I am going to talk to you. I didn't even look back at him. Not once. Don't make eye contact, and avoid further contact. That is my motto. So here I am...in the Calgary airport...where the wireless connection is poor....and i suppose if I get a drink from Starbucks it may poison me....I am tempted.
Next to me rests a very distraught kitty, who is currently taking a break from his soft meows and spinning around in the carrier for a quick....oh don't you say it....but I want to....ok fine but you are going to seem like an idiot....so what.... a quick cat nap. *snickers* Honestly it is no laughing matter, he is very unhappy. He isn't responding the same this time to the half of a sedative. He was angelic when we flew out to Regina, but cleary all this hopping around is wearing his patience thin. No drug can convince him otherwise. To make matters worse I had a urination oopsie to attend to. Oh how pleasant....now I can't get the smell of cat pee out of my head....could be because I now smell like cat pee. Maybe that means the next person that sits next to me on my next flight will leave me alone (story will come later).
My flight experience so far has been mixed. First of all, the woman that checked me in was miserable, which would have been fine with me if she had done her job properly....she didn't though. What happened? Well, I waited 20 minutes in a line-up to go through the security checkpoint. No problem. I am seriously a pro at the security checkpoint. I know what to put in each little bin and exactly how much... BUT BUT BUT BUT.... I unloaded all my stuff, pulled out my laptop, took off my coat and sweater and I was pumped ready to pull the cat out and walk through the metal detector....when I asked for the go ahead to do so the guy looks down at my boarding pass and says "You have a cat?". No, it isn't a real cat I just bring my stuffie along for plane rides so I can play pretend. YES I HAVE A CAT. Look at me...I am covered in cat fur because he is one stressed kitty. The guy tells me to hold on so that they can verify my cat is authorized to be on the plane. That is cool whatever. But then they came back and told me there wasn't anyone upstairs that could verify it so I needed to go downstairs to the check-in desk and START ALL OVER AGAIN. I said “alright” with a sigh “but will I need to stand in that line-up again?”. He nodded and said it shouldn't be that bad. Meanwhile it was at least two and a half times the length it was when I was in it the first time. I was...I was...well I don't want to say what I was, but let me just say I came near to the point of telling him that it was their mistake so they had just better find someone to check my booking out because I didn't want to stand in that line-up again. But I didn't do that... He said he was sorry and that they have been screwing up at check-in all day. I can guess why, because I had to deal with the miserable hag downstairs.
I relented, went back downstairs and very unhappily waited in the line-up to check-in for the second time. I approached a different woman at the check-in counter, and she looked at me raised an eyebrow and asked me how my day was going. I was honest. From that point it was smooth sailing. She sorted it out, escorted me back to the security checkpoint and to the front of the line....not the very front, but close enough. No sooner did I get through the checkpoint I hear my name called overhead requesting me to report to my gate. Really? Not another complication I hope, and at this point I can't help but smirk at the idea of another problem. Turns out it wasn't a problem, actually the woman downstairs requested that one of the flight attendants meet me at the gate and help me get situated. I would never have requested such a thing, but definitely appreciate them putting out the effort to make sure my experience is as comfortable as possible. The flight attendant's name was Danny and she looked and sounded very similar to Sarah Silverman. Except she had a tiny little nose stud, and apparently loves cats. She wanted to carry him, but I wouldn't allow it. I am an overbearing, overprotective cat mother...so no you can't carry my cat.
Danny helped me get situated on the plane, brought me a cup of ice for boots because apparently it helps sometimes. The man that was assigned to sit beside me (well it turns out later that he is unable to differentiate between a b and a d) showed up, so she said if i needed her for anything to call, and went about her business. The guy sat down beside me and he .....wreaked of alcohol....great. You have got to be kidding me. Very first thing he does is say “so you made it through did you” with a drunken chuckle.
“Yes I did, they made a mistake, didn't book the cat”.
“Oh you have a cat?”
“Yes”
“In cargo?”
“No, at my feet”
“Oh”.
That is the last thing he said to me and I certainly wasn't about to strike up a conversation with him. Drunky Skunk. It was about at this point that the guy that was supposed to sit in that seat showed up...but they traded instead of righting the situation. So I spent the rest of the flight nervously attending to my cat, and the drunk spend the rest of the flight staring at me nervously attending to my cat. I suppose if he wants to watch someone while they are bent over with their cheek pressed against the seatback in front of them so that they can reach well enough to stroke their cat with a couple fingers to calm him that is his perogative. You can look at me all you want, but it is not a guarantee I am going to talk to you. I didn't even look back at him. Not once. Don't make eye contact, and avoid further contact. That is my motto. So here I am...in the Calgary airport...where the wireless connection is poor....and i suppose if I get a drink from Starbucks it may poison me....I am tempted.
February 14, 2009
Lightning Colored Sky
I really like this photo, the colours and the scenery. It reminds me of where I am in life, and the things that make me smile. There is always a road that leads somewhere, but danger lurks in the most beautiful places. Beware but enjoy.
Red
I have a new nickname. Given to me by a nice old man. Ron who I previously mentioned in this blog called me Red today. Hey it is not super creative but it is a nickname nonetheless, and I appreciate it. To bad today is the last day I will see him. Good people come and go, but at least I know they exist.
February 12, 2009
The Season
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.
What am I doing? I don't do this. Looking down at my foot I think "what do you think you are doing?". I don't wiggle, umm, at least not usually. I bring my hand to my mouth....I want it....I want to bite my nails.... That is when I realized. I am nervous. Your situation is making me nervous. I don't want to bite my nails though. I mean I want to, but I don't want to. I glute squeeze instead (it is a bellydance thing) and has become a bit of a nervous habit. At least I can build muscle while I am nervous instead of making my fingers sore and bloody.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Really? Honestly? Am I sure I am nervous? I can hear it pounding. The rain and the hail. I can hear you and your tone. So yes, I am sure. Why do I care? Did you honestly just ask that? Why? It is you. And I... oh you know. It is you. You are there, and I am here. Want to come over? Oh how I wish you could. You are in danger, and I sit by and listen. Not ideal, but I honestly wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I couldn't be anywhere else, at least not happily.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.
What did you say? A chill runs up and down my spine, I freeze... you must be kidding me right? I can tell from the tone of your voice that you are not. So stern, so deep...deeper than usual...is that even possible? Apparently. It has touched ground? I let that sink in for a moment. Where? Oh no, not there. I want to scream "take shelter now!" but I stay as calm as I can and silent. You know what to do, and when to do it. I trust that much.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
It is gone? I take in a deep breath and let it out very slowly, but heavily and audibly. It has been a noisy night, and as long as the noise continues I know there is a threat of it touching down again. You have told me so, and I have listened to you. Waiting and wiggling maybe an hour more before the noise fades and we are left in silence. Just you and I. Exhausted. It was a long night.
Tonight I revisited something I already knew. Something I say sometimes. Something you say sometimes. We say it to each other, but after tonight I will never hear it the same, and in particular I will never say it the same. Tonight allowed me to see you in, not a new way, but a more intense way. It was a situational realization, and I suppose one could say it was instinctual. You tell me it is not even the season yet. That there is much more to come. Brutal. Do I have more to learn? Can I handle more? I don't know, but I do know that I will be there.
What am I doing? I don't do this. Looking down at my foot I think "what do you think you are doing?". I don't wiggle, umm, at least not usually. I bring my hand to my mouth....I want it....I want to bite my nails.... That is when I realized. I am nervous. Your situation is making me nervous. I don't want to bite my nails though. I mean I want to, but I don't want to. I glute squeeze instead (it is a bellydance thing) and has become a bit of a nervous habit. At least I can build muscle while I am nervous instead of making my fingers sore and bloody.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
Really? Honestly? Am I sure I am nervous? I can hear it pounding. The rain and the hail. I can hear you and your tone. So yes, I am sure. Why do I care? Did you honestly just ask that? Why? It is you. And I... oh you know. It is you. You are there, and I am here. Want to come over? Oh how I wish you could. You are in danger, and I sit by and listen. Not ideal, but I honestly wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I couldn't be anywhere else, at least not happily.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.
What did you say? A chill runs up and down my spine, I freeze... you must be kidding me right? I can tell from the tone of your voice that you are not. So stern, so deep...deeper than usual...is that even possible? Apparently. It has touched ground? I let that sink in for a moment. Where? Oh no, not there. I want to scream "take shelter now!" but I stay as calm as I can and silent. You know what to do, and when to do it. I trust that much.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
It is gone? I take in a deep breath and let it out very slowly, but heavily and audibly. It has been a noisy night, and as long as the noise continues I know there is a threat of it touching down again. You have told me so, and I have listened to you. Waiting and wiggling maybe an hour more before the noise fades and we are left in silence. Just you and I. Exhausted. It was a long night.
Tonight I revisited something I already knew. Something I say sometimes. Something you say sometimes. We say it to each other, but after tonight I will never hear it the same, and in particular I will never say it the same. Tonight allowed me to see you in, not a new way, but a more intense way. It was a situational realization, and I suppose one could say it was instinctual. You tell me it is not even the season yet. That there is much more to come. Brutal. Do I have more to learn? Can I handle more? I don't know, but I do know that I will be there.
February 11, 2009
Here We GO!
So for those of you that don't already know. I will be heading back to British Columbia on Sunday. Things did not work out here as they should have...or honestly could have. I was not very well received. Although I love the area, the scenery, and the dynamics of a small town. I need to leave because the situation is really dragging me down emotionally. But you can bet on me looking for something like this in the future now that I have developed a taste for it.
I have fantasized about small town living since I took a trip to Greenwood, BC in 2006. So this is not over yet. Although next time I may just move to a small town in BC. It is hard to get established in small towns because people know you are an outsider and will not necessarily be receptive. I must say that the people I have met in Chaplin, Saskatchewan are amazing people. Deserving of commendation for their welcoming nature. I know I am not staying around long enough to get into the thick of things, but maybe it is better off that way.
That these people will remain beautiful to me is more important at the moment. I have just met them and yet I am sad I will not get to know them better. I am sad I will not get to see Ron and Linda's 50th wedding anniversary. Why? Because the people here have restored my faith in humanity. These are basic people, without distractions. They work, they relax a little bit, and they are happy. I am not saying they don't go through tough times, of course they do, but somehow they make it through without throwing away their sense of community. It may be a year and eight months to early but I wish Ron and Linda a wonderful 50th wedding anniversary. I have no doubt that they will make it there.
I have fantasized about small town living since I took a trip to Greenwood, BC in 2006. So this is not over yet. Although next time I may just move to a small town in BC. It is hard to get established in small towns because people know you are an outsider and will not necessarily be receptive. I must say that the people I have met in Chaplin, Saskatchewan are amazing people. Deserving of commendation for their welcoming nature. I know I am not staying around long enough to get into the thick of things, but maybe it is better off that way.
That these people will remain beautiful to me is more important at the moment. I have just met them and yet I am sad I will not get to know them better. I am sad I will not get to see Ron and Linda's 50th wedding anniversary. Why? Because the people here have restored my faith in humanity. These are basic people, without distractions. They work, they relax a little bit, and they are happy. I am not saying they don't go through tough times, of course they do, but somehow they make it through without throwing away their sense of community. It may be a year and eight months to early but I wish Ron and Linda a wonderful 50th wedding anniversary. I have no doubt that they will make it there.
February 8, 2009
Sunday
As I was heading down my drive way this afternoon I was suddenly compelled to make a right turn instead of my usual left turn. What is the difference? The left turn, followed by a right turn takes me down the road to the diner. A right turn followed by another right turn takes me towards town. I thought it would be about a ten minute walk to town but as I turned the corner I was surprised to see that town is actually only a block up the road. So I walked towards it and altogether it is maybe a five minute walk. The closer I got the more I noticed a marked lack of activity. No this isn't a busy town, but I thought at least someone might be out and about. No. No one. I thought about this for a minute and realized that it was Sunday, and by glancing around it was made very obvious to me that all the businesses in town, civic or otherwise are closed on Sunday.
It would have been a waste of a trip, but the door to the P.O. Box office was open so I was able to check my mail. That was my main purpose for heading towards town so I consider my efforts a success. I took the two grocery flyers in my P.O. Box out and immediately recy....no i didn't because there was only a garbage nearby. I took note of this so that next time I have the opportunity to chat with Renee the Canada Post worker I can mention it to her. That is what you do in a small town I believe. Take note, make requests, and expect improvements. At least I hope. If that is not the expectation I am going to simply be a pain and do that anyhow.
I slowly walked through town, and it was oddly intimate with no one else around. Like I was able to really see it without it being able to see me back. The thought "ghost town" kept running through my mind. The buildings are all white and the paint is old and flaky. With the exception of the post office and the bank which are more modern in appearance. I didn't worry about crosswalks, I sort of leisurely crossed the street wherever I wanted to. No one was around to take issue with it. The businesses in town are all what I would consider essential. City Hall, post office, bank, grocery (very small), insurance, hair dresser, and a hotel. I wondered briefly if I will ever go to that hairdresser. I could use a trim so maybe I will. The only two businesses that could be considered recreational are the billiards hall and the bar. Neither of which will I ever set foot in. There were a few empty buildings. I had a fleeting thought about opening my own business, but I couldn't imagine what the people would want or need. Maybe once I have been here a while I will know. One of the empty buildings used to be a garden centre. I peered through break in the tall white fence and saw a shed with a few stray boards sitting around. I am not sure if this is a seasonal business, but it seems quite deserted to me. One thing I can say for sure is that this town could use to be slathered in a nice coat of colourful paint. White on white, on white is not a recipe for excitement.
I think I will return next Sunday to soak it all in again, I liked the solitude. I loved it and how it made me feel. For a few minutes I was the only person left living in a post-apocalyptic world.
It would have been a waste of a trip, but the door to the P.O. Box office was open so I was able to check my mail. That was my main purpose for heading towards town so I consider my efforts a success. I took the two grocery flyers in my P.O. Box out and immediately recy....no i didn't because there was only a garbage nearby. I took note of this so that next time I have the opportunity to chat with Renee the Canada Post worker I can mention it to her. That is what you do in a small town I believe. Take note, make requests, and expect improvements. At least I hope. If that is not the expectation I am going to simply be a pain and do that anyhow.
I slowly walked through town, and it was oddly intimate with no one else around. Like I was able to really see it without it being able to see me back. The thought "ghost town" kept running through my mind. The buildings are all white and the paint is old and flaky. With the exception of the post office and the bank which are more modern in appearance. I didn't worry about crosswalks, I sort of leisurely crossed the street wherever I wanted to. No one was around to take issue with it. The businesses in town are all what I would consider essential. City Hall, post office, bank, grocery (very small), insurance, hair dresser, and a hotel. I wondered briefly if I will ever go to that hairdresser. I could use a trim so maybe I will. The only two businesses that could be considered recreational are the billiards hall and the bar. Neither of which will I ever set foot in. There were a few empty buildings. I had a fleeting thought about opening my own business, but I couldn't imagine what the people would want or need. Maybe once I have been here a while I will know. One of the empty buildings used to be a garden centre. I peered through break in the tall white fence and saw a shed with a few stray boards sitting around. I am not sure if this is a seasonal business, but it seems quite deserted to me. One thing I can say for sure is that this town could use to be slathered in a nice coat of colourful paint. White on white, on white is not a recipe for excitement.
I think I will return next Sunday to soak it all in again, I liked the solitude. I loved it and how it made me feel. For a few minutes I was the only person left living in a post-apocalyptic world.
February 6, 2009
I just want to call someone!
So here is the story, I ran out of toilet paper, and my dad is just a couple of streets over so I thought "hey I will call him and ask him to bring me some" Easy enough! Right? No, not the case. I dialed his number fifteen times, and the auto lady kept telling me the same thing..."the number you have dialed is a long distance number.....blah blah blah". So I entertained her proclamation and dialed a 1 in front of the number to which she barked "the number you have dialed is not a long distance number". COME ON LADY! Which is it? Make up your mind. So I puzzled over it for a moment...I am a pretty smart cookie in general... but this really stumped me for a couple minutes. But when toilet paper is on the line you need to figure things out... Finally it occurred to me why the auto-lady was rebelling against me... I was dialing a ten-digit number... she recognizes seven-digit numbers for local calls... I needed to drop the area code. I dialed and...SUCCESS!
In other words I made my first local phone call in this strange land, and nearly failed. However, my toilet paper is on its way and all is right with the world....no wait I see headlights... Aha! It has just arrived.
In other words I made my first local phone call in this strange land, and nearly failed. However, my toilet paper is on its way and all is right with the world....no wait I see headlights... Aha! It has just arrived.
February 5, 2009
Little Red House
There is something about a little red house with white trim on it that is fabulous to me. Especially when the roof of the little red house with white trim has a nice layer of snow on it. It is just the way things should be. There is something rustic, and maybe even cabin like about it. If I could I would live in this little house forever, and I honestly do mean that when I say it. It is warm, well insulated, and cozy. Everything I have ever wanted or could ever want in a house. I don't know why but the mansion on the hilltop has never appealed to me. Right now I am getting a taste of what I want, and it won't be long before I go out there and find it for myself. I need to prevent myself from getting to attached to this house, because it is not mine, but I find myself wondering....is there a way I could keep it?
February 4, 2009
My Saskatchewan Picture Set
For those of you that are thorough snoops like me I am providing you with a link to all of my Saskatchewan pictures so far. There are pictures there that I have not featured in the blog, and that are not likely to make it into the blog period. Happy snooping.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/89211749@N00/sets/72157594434241675/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/89211749@N00/sets/72157594434241675/
February 3, 2009
February 2, 2009
Mad Tea Party, Disneyland Park
This is what I mean when I say I want to go for a ride in a tea cup. Someday I will go, I don't have a choice any longer, not after seeing this photo. Even if the real deal disappoints, I will still be beyond content.
February 1, 2009
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe....or in the middle of Saskatchewan.
There is something about it here, that is idyllic and peaceful. I guess 200 people spread out over vast stretches of land is a recipe for relaxation. I am in the town, just turn down 2nd street and you will find me there, hiding away alone with my spoiled farm cat in a two bedroom home. A little red house with white trim, hold the picket fence. We ain't prissy around these parts.
Can you hear it? I can, that is the wind, and it never stops. There is nothing to stop it. No mountains to block it, no trees to cut into it, it just sweeps across the plains without resistance. A friend of mine said to me recently that there is a significant difference between seeing the world and feeling it. I can still see the world, but I notice that here I feel it. As I take the time to walk back and forth between the restaurant and my new home the wind is a constant reminder of where I am. "You haven't been here before have you?" it whispers forcefully in my ear. "Taste me, notice me, take me in" it persists. The wind is a forceful friend, but rest assured it is a friend. You can spend the night tossing and turning, wake up exhausted, but the moment you step out into the street the wind will wake you up.
Living is standard here, there is wealth around this area, beyond what one would expect. Do you see it in the cars they drive? The clothes they wear? No, not at all. Who do they need to impress? The cattle? The shafts of wheat? No, they do not need to impress anyone or anything. The community is small and the people seem oddly happy, but do not mistake that for a lack of worries. Today we celebrated the coming of February, I had to ask why, but apparently around here it is worth recognizing because the businesses have survived the end of another month, a small landmark, but not a small feat considering today's economy. The people here are not isolated from the rest of the world, impact is felt, but we are nestled here in the middle. Close enough to be concerned, but far enough away to avoid distraction. Focus, and clarity. That is what I need, that is what people have here, and that is what I will find here.
Can you hear it? I can, that is the wind, and it never stops. There is nothing to stop it. No mountains to block it, no trees to cut into it, it just sweeps across the plains without resistance. A friend of mine said to me recently that there is a significant difference between seeing the world and feeling it. I can still see the world, but I notice that here I feel it. As I take the time to walk back and forth between the restaurant and my new home the wind is a constant reminder of where I am. "You haven't been here before have you?" it whispers forcefully in my ear. "Taste me, notice me, take me in" it persists. The wind is a forceful friend, but rest assured it is a friend. You can spend the night tossing and turning, wake up exhausted, but the moment you step out into the street the wind will wake you up.
Living is standard here, there is wealth around this area, beyond what one would expect. Do you see it in the cars they drive? The clothes they wear? No, not at all. Who do they need to impress? The cattle? The shafts of wheat? No, they do not need to impress anyone or anything. The community is small and the people seem oddly happy, but do not mistake that for a lack of worries. Today we celebrated the coming of February, I had to ask why, but apparently around here it is worth recognizing because the businesses have survived the end of another month, a small landmark, but not a small feat considering today's economy. The people here are not isolated from the rest of the world, impact is felt, but we are nestled here in the middle. Close enough to be concerned, but far enough away to avoid distraction. Focus, and clarity. That is what I need, that is what people have here, and that is what I will find here.
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