There were some things though that might be of interest about returning home though. As always, I was blown away by how much water we put in our toilets. You could drown 6 kittens in them! Or, if that offends you, you could drown 6 of those ugly gray naked chihuahuas in them.
Also. . . our accents are hilarious!! I mean, after living overseas where everyone either spoke with a Ozzie/Kiwi accent or a British accent (there aren't that many North American travelers in India and NZ) ours just sounded so. . . flat. But now, after I've been here for awhile, I've once again come to the inevitable reality - we don't have an accent. Everybody else does.
'Tis amazing how quickly you become acclimatized to home.
But there were some interesting things that have happened since. I am a Kikauka after all.
July was mostly spent camping (any jokes from friends abroad about being Canadian can remain unspoken :P).
Canada Day was spent camping with friends- with alcohol. ^_^
The third week of July was spent car-camping at Quadra Island. I went with a nerd friend and a friend of the family's around the same age brought his nerd friend and - well, let's just say we had debates about law of gravity and the best japanese anime.
*sighs happily*
The fourth week I went hiking on the North Coast Trail with Squash. The trail just opened this year so it was very rugged and beautiful. We saw more whales than people, more bear poop than outhouses, and more eagles than seagulls. The experience so inspired me and Squash that we wrote this poem.
Those queasy at the sight of profanity please skip.
The Hiker's Refrain
O fuck I'm so hungry,
O fuck I'm so tired,
O fuck I'm so smelly,
In mud am I mired.
O fuck shitty fuck,
Is the hiker's refrain,
Despite always knowing,
They'll do it again.
O fuck I'm in pain,
O fuck I'm so sore,
O fucking hell PLEASE God,
Don't let there be more.
O fuck shitty fuck,
Is the hiker's refrain,
Despite always knowing,
They'll do it again.
O fuck I'm in Heaven,
But mostly in Hell,
O fuck when you're hiking,
It's so hard to tell.
Of fuck shitty fuck,
Is the hiker's refrain,
Despite always knowing,
They'll do it again.
We got lost more than once on the trail. Can you tell.
I'm particularly proud of this poem because it's so versatile. It can be used on any trail you ever hike, gives you a way to vent artistically, and can even be put to the tune of "O Come, All Ye Faithful". Please, use on your next hike. No copyright has been issued. ;)
On the day we got back to Victoria I went to a party with some friends and saw one of my best friends (Nibbles) for what was probably the last time I'll see her for over five months. She's going to McGill. :(
The day after I was given half an hour to pack from Dad and I was on the road again. . . to 2 more weeks of camping.
And now here I am, at Haven Lake, working for my Dad in the actual middle of nowhere. It took us over a day of driving to get to Burns Lake, then we flew in a four person float plane for 2 hours into the bush. But it's worth it, because the view we get from the lake must be where all of BC (my province's)'s postcards come from.
Now I spend my days splitting core (basically what prisoners do - breaking rocks), making labels for the core, and cutting down small trees (which hurts my inner hippie) to clear the forest so that the drillers can get more core.
Despite how fun that sounds, though, this gig is actually quite cushy compared to what I did 4 years ago with dad. Next time you see me ask me about eating rice crackers and tzatziki sauce off of a frisbee and the guy in the middle of nowhere who had no teeth and a pet goat. Actually, never mind; that explains itself.
Yep, so that's where my life is. Eventually, someday, maybe, somehow, I might find some pictures for these words.
