For the Love of Camping

We went camping for my husbands 30th birthday this past weekend. You have no idea how happy we were to be able to go camping in March. I'm still excited about it, and we've been home for 2 days. For me, there just isn't anything more relaxing, and re-energizing than sitting in the forest around a camp fire drinking beer with your friends and just taking it all in. Which is probably why I was okay with living in a camper in the bush for most of last year.

I fell in love with camping as a teenager. My first camping trip ever was over May Long Weekend when I was about 15 years old. My dad drove his truck and camper out to the lake for a bunch of us girls to use for the weekend, and our parents made sure we had all the supplies we would need.  I think it was the first weekend away from our parents for most of us, and we were actually pretty well behaved. We drank some beers, burned breakfast and let some cute boys come to our site and hang out, but that was about it. Still, it was empowering, knowing that if worse came to worse, I could start a fire and fry myself some eggs. I was all grown up!

Every year since then, I have spent my entire winter planning for camping. I try to get out no less than 3 times in a summer, and have mostly been successful. I was (and am!) lucky enough to be friends with many people who shared the same obsession  interest in camping, and in the late 90's myself and a friend accidentally on purpose started a tradition of camping every July Long weekend together. We promised each other that no matter what was going on in our lives, we would get together that weekend at The Lake.

We kept our promise, and then some. That pair of friends, expanded to over twenty campers the year I got married, and spent the wedding and honeymoon camping with our friends and family. About 6 years ago, the group of people interested in camping with us got so big, that we just couldn't be accommodated in the regular campground any more. We were too loud, and too large, so we started planning other alternatives. We camped in group sites, we camped in the overflow, we camped at a lake down the road with no services. Anything to have our privacy, and do our thing. Our meals evolved from chips, hot dogs and beer, to deep-frying turkeys, home-made wine, and gourmet breakfasts. As we got older we needed mattresses, and better shelter, and propane stoves. We needed more than a weekend, we needed a week, and then ten days. We needed WAY MORE BEER. The original vibe was still present throughout the changes, which was to be with your friends, be happy, have more fun than you will have all year, relax and make memories.

This winter, I haven't been planning the group camping trip. I'm breaking my promise, and it breaks my heart. Living two provinces away makes it hard. I am still saving money, and if people back home decide to keep the tradition going, I will do my best to be there.

What keeps me from being a blubbering mess about it all, is the fact that I live somewhere where camping is easy. Although we can if we want to, we don't have to drive more than 20 minutes to get to a great camp site. We can camp on the beach, or in the bush, or in a Provincial Park. We can pack up in 15 minutes, hit the liquor store and be on the road in no time at all. We don't have to plan for months in advance, and the weather is nice enough that our camping season has just been extended by about 4 months at the very least.

I am so grateful to my parents for letting me go on that first camping trip, and I am so grateful that I found a husband that loves camping just as much as I do. Even though I can't be with my friends as often, I can always twist his arm and get him out to the forest. Even in March.

Dougal

I never really thought about this whole H1N1 flu, or took it seriously at all, until today, when I found out that it killed a friend of mine.

To be honest, most of our pub crew never really knew Dougal all that well. He was the fat, funny guy, who liked his beer a bit too much. He said things that he probably shouldn't say at times, and made people wonder about him...but really, don't we all say and do things we shouldn't when we're drinking? I would say yes. If you don't agree, you are lying to yourself. At the same time though, for those of us who took the time to get to know him, knew that he was a big-hearted, genuine, all-around nice guy, who was just looking to fit in, and be loved.

Dougal and I were not super close, but we were friends nonetheless. We met at The Pub, on my 29th birthday. When Mr. Head introduced us, Dougal told me I was the prettiest birthday girl he had ever seen and kissed my hand. We ended up hanging out quite a bit over the next couple years, usually drinking beers and having a laugh. When we ran into each other, he always told me I was beautiful, that he was happy to see me, and I would blush. He would then tell me how great my husband was, and how lucky we were to have each other. He was one of the only people in the world, I actually believed when I was complimented.

Whether you knew it or not, if Dougal sat with you , talked to you, whatever, he liked you. If you were sad, he was sad with you, and if you were happy, he celebrated for you.

It really knocked me on my ass when I learned of his passing today. All I could think of was "But, he's my age." People our age aren't supposed to die yet. It's just not right. We're still kids..aren't we?

To quote a friend's Facebook status today: "R.I.P Dougal Ross, I hope wherever you are, the pints are cold and delicious." So, so long, Dougal. It was nice knowin' ya, and thanks for always making me feel special, for the bear hugs, and for making me laugh. The Pub just won't be the same without you.




For those who knew him: There will be no official funeral service, however Mr. Head has planned a wake, which will be held on Sunday, Dec. 20th @ 7pm, at O'Hanlon's.

Dream Exhaustion

I had a dreamed filled night last night. One of those nights where you feel as if you've been constantly dreaming...hopping from place to place, not really knowing when one dream ends and the other begins. When I have these nights, I wake up exhausted, as if I hadn't slept at all.

My night started out with a recurring dream I have been having, about Frank, the ghost at my workplace. Every few nights he pops in to my head, introduces himself ( I think you already know me, I am Frank ____, from work.") He will then introduce me to his wife, who's name I never remember by the time I wake up, and then inform me that the reason he hangs around the group home, is because his farm used to be on that land. I usually wake up at this point and try to remember what he said his last name was. Last night, I did not however, and all of a sudden, I was at Santa Monica Pier.

I'm guessing that Smyrish and I were living around there, because there were a ton of people who had come down to visit. My brother Filmstar and my friend Lynn were looking to buy some roller coasters, and bring them back to Small Town...they figured they had a money making scheme on their hands. Apparently, roller coasters are big money in rural Saskatchewan!

Lynn had brought her husband with her, so he could haul all these roller coasters back for her and Filmstar. He wasn't interested in the business part of it, so I took him out on the town. We were joined by V-man and Wench at what seemed to be a rough looking small town bar. After a few drinks, the husband started putting the moves on me, (which he would never do in real life). I screamed for V-man, but he was nowhere to be seen. After quite an argument and struggle, I grabbed a screwdriver, stabbed him in the shoulder, and ran to my car. He seemed unfazed, just yelling after me that we should be together, and he would get me, no matter what he had to do.

And then, I was at work. I sat and had an interesting conversation with one resident (who is non-verbal, by the way), and she told me she had heard about the incident with Lynn's husband, and that she knew he was like that all along, she just hadn't said anything. We proceeded to drink a bottle of wine together, talked about things that have happened between us the past few years, and then she told me she had to go back to being autistic. All of a sudden, she was non-verbal again, and acting like she does on any given day, and I was livid. I wanted her to be "normal", just for a little while longer.

My alarm went off, but I turned it off . I didn't feel like getting up early this morning, so I went back to sleep.

I was in the old record store in Small Town, looking through the cassette tapes. I saw a pile of Nirvana CD's in a bin, and decided that I needed "In Utero", and proceeded to buy 5 copies of it.*

Then.....

Smyrish and I were camping. We had the VW, and a child with us. Neither of us knew the child, but we let him hang out with us anyways. We fed him, and took him fishing, and introduced him to all of our friends that were camping down the road from us. Beckstar said that we had to keep him. It was a rule that if a child appeared out of nowhere when you were in nature, you had to keep them, as they were destined to be yours anyways. I argued with her about how ridiculous that was, and went looking for his parents. After what seemed like hours of walking in the dark campground, talking with the child, I realized he truly had just appeared. Maybe Beckstar was right, and I did have to keep him.

And then, I felt someone lay on the bed, and smelled grapefruit, and pulled myself from my deep sleep to see Smyrish laying in bed eating and talking to the dog. I briefly thought about trying to go back to sleep to find out what happened with the mystery kid, but figured I'd just start a new dream entirely, so I got up, made coffee, and wrote this post.



* I realized after I wrote this, that I actually don't own any Nirvana on CD. I have everything on tape. I can't even listen to In Utero now! Boo-urns!

Grace in Small Things #15

1. I am incredibly grateful for the fact that I was raised in a family where we were taught that family and friends come before anything else.

2. If I hadn't been raised that way, I may not have had so much fun on a road trip the past couple days, wrecking hotel headboards with Carla, playing cribbage, eating an insane amount of disgusting food, and singing oldies at the top of our lungs on the way home (in which I did a five hour drive in three hours!)

3. I love that I have people in my life, who will drop what they are doing, and leave town, so that we can check and see how a friend is doing....and have fun doing it.

4. I am extremely grateful that I had the chance to meet Wilf, and make some wonderful memories of him, and his children, before he passed on last week.

5. It makes me happy and comforted to know that his children have adopted my brothers and I into their family, and that we have done the same to them.

6. After a week of birthday's, night shifts, drinking with the ladies, and a funeral, I finally just let myself take the time to have a huge cry over the loss of a man, who I am ever so grateful to have had in my life.

I Am Aglow

I should hate you, and I did for awhile. I don't hate you anymore. I feel like I need you in my life. That same feeling I had when I met you, and told you I wanted to be your friend. And no, I never introduced myself as, "Anne". We've got too much in common, and now I know that you are just looking out for me, and want me to be happy. As of tonight, I know you want me to breed. But I've got to say, it's my party and I'll breed when me and Smyrish want to. ;)

I sometimes want to take your lips, and pinch them together so you can't speak, and force you to listen to what is being said. Sometimes, I wish that the mother of your child and I didn't have the issues that we have, because of you, and you and me. Sometimes, I just want you to drop off the face of the earth, so I don't have to deal with you, or memories of you. And then, there are nights like tonight, when I run into you accidentally, and I am so grateful.



I'm an odd girl. I like to think that if I liked someone, or even loved them, I can still be friends with them. I try not to hold grudges. This makes things awkward, sometimes, as you know.

I hope that one day, we can just hang out, without me having to worry about you getting in trouble for driving you home.

I feel like I should thank you, for making the end of my evening, feel like the end of a good movie. Or maybe I should just thank my stereo, for having the power to be a wonderful soundtrack to the goings on in my car. Either way, thank you, for tonight.

Girl Drink Drunk

These days, I don't get out much on Saturday nights. To be perfectly honest, I would rather stay home, watch a movie or some bad TV, and drink some wine. I like to save my socializing for Tuesdays and Thursdays, when the bar isn't as busy, and I can actually have conversations with my friends, instead of yelling across the table at them, and spending the evening nodding and smiling and pushing through a pack of drunk kids to get to the washroom.

But, this past Saturday, I just felt the need to be out the second I got home from work. What I really wanted was to sit on the patio, and drink some beer and clam, but since the patio isn't open, and I do not possess the ability to zip over to the future, I just headed down to the pub, hoping that it was interesting.

After a game of golf, a pizza and a couple pints, I convinced Das Piper and Wretched, GQ's Hot Italian Girlfriend, that the three of us could probably have a deadly time together and get into trouble, if we just left the pub before the Saturday night dance party began. We wrangled up a fourth, Kat, decided who was going to be the driver and chance losing their license, and headed out on the town.

We decided to do a pub crawl, and hit every bar from downtown to the south end of town, and have only one drink at each one, then run off to the next.

We stuck to beer for the first couple pubs, but the consensus was that we were more bloated than drunk, so we switched to girlie drinks. Chocolate martini's here, Jagermeister paralyzers everywhere else. We learned that Smitty's Lounge can be kind of scary on a Saturday night, the University bar closes, because everyone goes to The Pub, and drinks are still cheaper almost everywhere else, in comparison to our normal hang-out, even though liquor prices have risen. By the time we got to the last pub, where we found karaoke, I was sure I was lactose intolerant, and had to switch back to beer.

It was a fantastic time, and it was nice to get out and away from the norm, but after spending $125 on booze, and spending Sunday cursing milk, I think that I'm set to relax for a bit. Well, until the patio opens in a couple weeks, that is.

Group Photo

During our photo shoot at Knuckle Toes' birthday party last Friday, I commented that it was a good thing that all of our friends weren't there that night, because we wouldn't all have fit on the stage, or in the picture. We all started naming off the people that were missing, and I calculated in my head just how many folks we hang out with on a regular basis, as well as the friends who we don't get to see as often as we'd like, but do join us on big nights out, or whenever they can.

There are twenty people in Wench's photo, and I know that there are a couple party-goers that are missing from it. They were probably smoking or urinating at picture time.

I decided to sit down, and make a list of all the people, mostly pub regulars, that I would invite to something BIG for myself, say a wedding, or my funeral or maybe my big 3-0. If all of those people showed up, and we took a group photo again, there would be 39 people. This does not include anyone from out of town, or people whom I only visit with outside The Pub, or any family members other than my brothers, who are also pub regulars, or any guests that these 39 people may bring along with them to my imaginary party.

Thirty-nine people. And I could very well be forgetting someone.

Now, I ask myself, how in the world can I, at least once a week, complain that I am lonely? Seems so silly all of a sudden, doesn't it?

The Great Mo-Fo De-Lurk 2007

It is after midnight, so it is officially De-Lurking Day!




I must admit, I am a bit nervous about this whole day. What if my lurkers don't come out to play? Will they choose to stay in hiding, instead of just popping in to say hello? Sure, a couple of people have officially de-lurked, and that made me happy, but where is everyone else? Am I putting too much into this Great Mo-Fo De-Lurk, and is it worth putting my heart on the line?

Whatever happens, I just want to thank all who read me, from the bottom of my bloggin' heart. I know you're there from the hits, and I can see where you come from thanks to the StatCounter visitor map. I can even see which pages you have read. Wait a minute...maybe I am the one who is the lurker...or stalker....I seem to know way too much about you!

The greatest thing about De-Lurking Day, is the fact that I FINALLY get to meet the fabulous Madame Diva tonight, and she will get to meet oh, everyone I know, because The Pub is going to be action packed with hi-jinx and laughter, and maybe even tears, for an evening of celebrating the fact that we're all such wonderful friends.

Have a great day everyone.

* kisses and hugs*

Abigail Road

Family Values.

I have a huge family. Unlike some people, I have been raised to be close to not just my immediate family, but the whole lot of them, from aunts and uncles, to third cousins, friends and neighbors of said family, and all the wonderful people that have married into (and gotten out of) our clan over the years. Both my mom and dad's families are quite large, and are friends with one another, and have been for many, many years. This has always made for huge family gatherings, and as well has taught me to welcome and love everyone I meet into my heart and my home. It has also taught me to always have booze and food and extra pillows on hand, because you never know when someone is going to need a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, or a good laugh.

Over the past few years, when family was not so close at hand, I learned to lean on my friends. Instead of calling on mom and dad, or calling a cousin, I called on my homies. We partied, we laughed, we cried, we learned to look out for each other. In the past year or so, the number of people I consider close friends has sky-rocketed. Our little group of regulars at The Pub has blossomed to the size of a Ukrainian wedding. When in need of a night out, or a shoulder to lean on, each one of us has 45 people we can count on to be there in a flash. Some of us are closer to each other than others, some only come out to play once in awhile, but we're all there for each other, no matter what. These people are now my extended family, and it just keeps on growing. New sisters, mothers, brothers, drunken uncles, ex-husbands, what have you, they all have their role in my life.

When you have so many people in your life that you love, it can get tiring. Lately, I have been tired from all the fun, and have not really had the energy to entertain, or be out and about. I needed a break from the social scene. It's been one crazy summer.

But then, on the same day, I heard the news that one of the extended family of friends is expecting another, and shortly after heard the sad news from my mother, who is also not doing so well at the moment, that I had lost a very dear cousin, and after a one day pity party for myself, I crawled out of bed this morning and I snapped myself out of it. I need to be on my game, in case anyone needs me. I want to be that person that people know they can count on to be there for them. I have family that needs me right now, and I'm going to do whatever I can to be there for them, make them comfortable, and give them a laugh.

There is no reason for solo pity parties, when I can lean on everyone around me, and count on them to give me the strength to get through a really tough week.

Gettin' Our Folk On...

Well, when all was said and done, Folk Fest was a success.

It was a long weekend of getting up early after late nights, lugging wares, dodging bad weather, and praying for customers to give us money , so we could participate in the capitalism of Folk Fest purchasing cigarettes, over-priced vendor food, and over-priced pub pints.

In looking back at my photos from the weekend, the majority of them are of myself and my helper monkey friends lazing and dozing on the grass in and around our tent. We were a tired bunch of hippies this weekend, but we persevered, and ended up having a fantabulous time. Naps in the grass are a wonderful thing.


Sales were slow, but we did make a profit. I wish we would have done better, but we were up against inclement moody weather, the rising cost of ticket prices and the fact that everybody in town seemed to have spent their money on August long weekend.

It was nice to see customers from previous festivals come back for more, and to see my wares in the arms of happy new customers around the park, showing off their new bag or skirt. It really gives you a warm fuzzy feeling inside when someone is ecstatic about something that you created.

The best part of the festival, were the roaming friends who were always popping in for a visit, be it just a few minutes, or a few hours. We had friends bringing us meals and snacks, and drinks and good conversation. We were a popular tent for visiting and laughing, and it made me feel even more warm and fuzzy to have those wonderful people around me as I sat in the tent for 3 days. I hope they took me seriously when I told them how grateful I was for their help, and told them how much I loved them. The weekend just wouldn't have been the same without their presence.

I love our local Folk Festival, and have attended every single year, since I moved to The City. But I was disturbed by the fact that we didn't get free tickets to the shows, didn't have a place to park, and that we weren't even invited to the after parties this year. All day Sunday, I was talking about how much I wished that I could see Blue Rodeo, and complained about the less than stellar treatment of the vendors.

Moments before Blue Rodeo was to hit the stage, our friend Jules, who had a weekend pass, looked at me, asked me if I wanted to go in to the main stage, and wriggled her hand out of the green bracelet that held all the power to get me through the waist high orange gates. I lubed up my hand with lotion, and slipped it on.

"I'm going in!" I yelled, as I dodged hugs and high fives from friends who were stuck watching from over the fence and atop the cenotaph. I ran into the gates, holding up my wristband for all to see.

It took mere seconds to find a group of friends with leftover drink tickets. I grabbed myself a beer, and we headed up to the stage. We sang and danced and cried and I took some horrible pictures that didn't turn out at all. Thankfully, I was with B-Rock the Rock-tographer, and I am sure that he got some great shots. It was a fantastic finale to an exhausting but fun weekend.

Today, it's back to reality. Work commitments of all kinds are beckoning me. My Oldsmobile needs to get taken to the big salvage yard in the sky. TypicalQuirk and Hobbsley are leaving this coming weekend, and there is intense housecleaning and party planning to be completed. I haven't showered or combed my hair since Thursday night.

Summer is, rather unfortunately, coming to a close and every moment is planned out for me. Luckily, it'll only be fun and games for a few more weeks, and with the festivals out of the way for this year, I have one less responsibility to worry about, and can just concentrate on having a darn good time.

Countdown to Folk Fest!!!

Well, one more sleep, and it'll be time to get my hippie on. Folk Fest is starting in less than a day, and damned if I'm not ready for it. I did however throw a few creations together today, and thought I'd show 'em off.

All I'm hoping for is to make a bit of money for beers on Sunday night when the hippie fest is over, when I'll have time to party with my friends, who I'm missing something fierce this week.

Wish me luck!

Day 90 and Beyond

I have had a couple of readers ask me about Day 90, and how the healing is going. I had forgotten about my little psychological experiment, and had to go back to my day planner, and see exactly when it was. I am now on Day 119, so we'll say that considering I forgot about Day 90 completely, I'm doing okay.

Thanks to fantastic friends who put up with my constant depression and over-analyzing, and a couple of hot flings that are now over and done with, the healing was as quick as I could make it. Sure, my blood still boils a bit and I get a little sad, when I see certain photos, or hear certain stories, or think of certain events, but overall, I'm good, and am over that hump, and have accepted the fate of the relationship.

Before I sat down to write this entry today, I was perusing my email accounts, and came across the first email I ever received from him. It was sweet and funny and awkward, and it made me smile. I didn't feel sad, I didn't feel lonely, I didn't pine for him. I felt happy, in a way. Thankful for the boy who hunted me down and stole my heart.

My days were once spent wondering and thinking about him and his new girlfriend, and all of my faults and mistakes. That is no more, and I didn't even realize it until today. Now, my days are spent in the sunshine, daydreaming about camping and beach days. I am pining for a good laugh with my many wonderful friends whenever I am not with them. I have other things to worry about now, like getting a new car, doing the best I can at my job, and finding the time to sit down with a bottle of wine, and write music.

It's summertime, and life is good, as it always is when the weather is warm.

And on that note, I hear that it's beer o'clock, so I am going to get dressed and get back outside and sit in the backyard until the sun moves to the other side of the house, at which point, I will walk downtown and find my glorious friends, who will no doubt, already be half-cut, and laughing in the sunshine.

Praying For a Not-so-Manic Monday

Whoa doggy, am I tired. I am almost (almost, I said) happy that I have to work until midnight the next couple of days, because I need to be forced to be a good girl, and give my body a rest.

I was supposed to get up early this morning and go for a walk, as I have been neglecting the exercise routine I was into for a few weeks, for about a week. However, I just could not get out of bed this morning for the life of me. I finally dragged my arse out of bed nearing noon, realizing that I had much sewing to get done, and only had a couple hours to do it before I had to get to the group home.

After a half hour of swearing at my sewing machine and cursing my inability to sew in a straight line, I decided just to drink more coffee, and hang out with the television for awhile. I told myself that it would be a good idea just to relax today in the little time I had to do it, and start fresh tomorrow. Re-energize. Get my head together.

I've been on a bit of a bender. A bender with an itinerary. It all started last Monday, when I contacted all the girls and we got together for drunken Scrabble on the patio in the sunshine. Tuesday, Mr. Hobbsley was back in town, and I felt it was necessary to get out and see him, since I haven't talked to him since Xmas. I got up early on Wednesday, to get some sewing done, and Wednesday night, I had to work, but still came home and stayed up until dawn by my lonesome. Thursday brought some bad news from a dear friend, five minutes before I went to work. As soon as I arrived at work, I started working on getting out of there to be with her, and a couple hours later, I was back at The Pub, for an uber-emotional night of drinking. By Friday, I realized I hadn't eaten in a couple of days, and didn't have any food anyways, so I forced myself into an afternoon of grocery shopping and housecleaning, before heading back to the frickin' pub, to meet up with friends, and head to the Reverend Horton Heat show, where I drank too much, danced just enough, and had a grand ol' time visiting with old friends who were drunker and more stoned than I. Saturday morning was spent tracking down the people I had made plans with during the week, but they were nowhere to be found. Knuckle Toes
and I finally found each other, (at guess where? The Pub!), and headed off for an afternoon of shopping for fabric and such, before returning downtown and joining friends for drinks and sunshine. After a few hours in the sun, I headed home to eat, take care of my new sunburn, and get ready to go out to a cabaret that I was to go to that evening. By the time I dragged my sorry ass back to The Pub, I had already decided to skip the cabaret, give away my ticket, and head home early to sit in front of the television. Well, I gave away my ticket,and sent the boys on their way, but shortly after I arrived, I met a couple of interesting people, and ended up sitting and talking with them for a few hours, as friends that I had been with in the afternoon started filtering back to the patio, as I had. I eventually put my foot down on myself, and headed home, knowing that if I didn't leave at that instant, I was going to be in for a very huge hangover the next day. I still ended up staying up all night, talking on the phone, and on Messenger, til almost dawn. Sunday was a productive day. I spent the majority of my day at the sewing machine, using up almost all of the fabric I had bought on Saturday, but there were more plans to be followed through on. Delores and I BBQ'd some supper, watched a movie, and then gave in to the many phone calls I had recieved all day to come back out to that black hole of a pub. We ended up playing pub trivia with the boys, even though we vowed that we wouldn't, and somehow we won a round of free beers, thanks to our knowledge of all things sexual, and who can turn down free beer? Not us.

So, I am welcoming Monday. I am somewhat grateful for the busy week at work that I am about to have, as it will keep me out of trouble, and sober. Not that last week wasn't fun, I had some great times, and good laughs, and was overjoyed to witness how well my group of friends can come together, and get along, when one of us is in need of just that. I love you all, with all my heart, but I need to give my liver a rest.

See you Wednesday then? ;)