Just as I’m about to leave for my ridiculous mission, the sun warms the grass and the air seems full of life and I’m touched with enthusiasm for rending and tearing and building. I’ve been so buried in work I haven’t wanted to force anything else into my overcrowded brain. But I had a look at the barn I need to work on and found it patiently and hopefully waiting to be shucked from its shell of disrepair and turned into something cute. So much potential!
I need to create an envelope of insulated living space to move my stuff into it. I’m thinking rockwool insulation, canvas instead of drywall, a couple patio doors replacing the barn doors for some passive solar. Definitely bedroom in the loft. Composting toilet. I’m planning to partition the giant space and make a smaller habitat at first, that can be expanded later. I’m still mulling over the plumbing. How much is enough?
Then there’s the garden. There are a number of retired gardens, all owned by grass again. I’ve got my eye on the old pond. The ruined liner is tattered, but the earth beneath is black and rhizome free because of the water and poly. It would make a lovely terraced garden, and in the middle of the horse paddock, it’s already fenced for deer. The obvious downfall is that the depression will be a cold sink, with all the coldest air around pooling there, frosting earlier as well.
Turns out Kevin is for sure 19! From a summer litter too, so she’s rounding 20. She’s so rad for being so old. No spring kitten. My book Everything Cats Expect You to Know says that 19 equals 96 “human years.”
Moved the scamper to the new place! Kevin approves. It’s fantastic to sleep every night like camping. The cool clean air is rich, the stars in the extra-dark country sky are magnificent, and waking up in the yellow dawn and mist among trees is sometimes still like dreaming.
Washing pumpkin seeds before the last pumpkin pies of the year from my modest garden. These were very nice sweet pie pumpkins with rich golden orange flesh, and I look forward to growing next year from the saved seeds. Just thinking of how many pumpkins the seeds from one pumpkin could produce, and then how many pumpkins the following year…it’s as boggling as counting stars!
I drove to Ontario with my cat. I was going to stay a month so I had to bring her. I also brought two passengers from the rideshare board, to mitigate the environmental impact, maybe. I just couldn’t be a single occupant vehicle for 3000 miles.
It was just during the coldest snap of the winter, when Regina was seeing -35C. Almost miraculously, we didn’t see one speck of precipitation the whole transit. And the coldest weather was scuttling away in front of us, or something, because the coldest my outdoor thermometer ever read was -22C.
My right hand drive caused a bit of a frenzy at a truck stop in Northern Ontario. A half dozen friendly natives were swarmed around, looking at everything inside, asking questions all at once and exclaiming in amazement. They were just thrilled.
We drove the north route as one of my passengers was headed into Quebec. After we left him, the girl and I were sitting up front talking when we passed a big billboard proclaiming “Book Store 75% off” . We sighed together and looked at the time. It was just after six, there wasn’t a chance that a small town book store would still be open. Sigh, alas.
A half hour later, she bursts out, pointing to the right, “Hey that was it! The lights are on! And there’s cars.” I screeched to a halt and whipped a Uey (or the transCanada equivalent), and we went back to it. Open! Until eight! Oh frabjous day!
Took a tour of the Sliding Centre, where luge, skeleton, and bobsleigh events happen. This was illuminating, and not only because it was very brightly lit. I had to wonder why flash photography was verboten when the lights are so bright, and the luge athletes aren’t looking where they’re going anyways. They memorize the course, because looking up slows you down.
The luge course is absolutely a feat of engineering. A km and a half long, a four story drop just into the first corner, and athletes reaching speeds around 158 km/hr and hitting 5Gs. However, the infrastructure to do this is hyperbolic. A building the size of an arena is for refrigeration- just to cool the course and allow ice to be built. Pipes for the ammonia coolant run from the building the length of the (km and half) concrete and steel structure of the course. The entire course is not just brilliantly lit, roofed for safety (so no one goes flying out of the track), wired for electronic speed and start/finish sensors that measure thousandths of seconds, but because the sun can change the quality of the ice, or snow can interfere, the whole course has blinds (not unlike roll-down window shades) to cover the open side, which if needed, will be vigorously manned by a large workforce who will roll them up for the cameras as riders pass, and then pull them back down to protect the precious (hand-groomed! and “spritzed”!) course from the elements. Seriously. Continue reading Olympic excess→
I was expecting chaos, mayhem, and frantic over-budget preparation, but Whistler is ready. What construction is still on is placid and small-scale. In fact, the only work-related phrases I overheard were “ahead of schedule, almost done, let’s take a break”, and “totally primed.” Whistler is almost holding its breath for the onslaught, I think, but it sure seems ready.
My steez here was to find out what my job description was, and to sort out a place for my bro and I to live during the Games. Done, and not done. I’ve been chewing through my cell minutes, driving to and fro the breadth of Whistler, studying maps and knocking on doors. Sigh. I’ve learned a great deal, and am very glad I made this mission. It’s invaluable to learn the town so well while I can still drive everywhere and park everywhere, and I wangled my way through the front line of security at the Athlete’s Village to meet the right people and get a sense of what I’ll be doing Games-time.
Accommodation on the other hand… I was parking in different neighborhoods and knocking on doors, randomly- a very humbling experience. I was forcing myself to knock on the doors of the really nice homes, too, since I’ve learned from hitchhiking that the prosperous are often very nice and generous- perhaps those attributes contribute to prosperity. People were unfailingly nice to the strange mendicant on their doorstep in the dark, generous with advice, and I got to hear many peoples’ opinions of their neighbors, neighborhoods, and the Games. Continue reading →
Made a headlong dash for Whistler this weekend. Going to Whistler before the Games was something I “had to do”, but when the time came, I had a lot of resistance and put it off and put it off. Oh well, we made it out, feeling unprepared and leaving too late, but as long as it gets done.
After an eight hour drive shared with my friend on thankfully bare roads in the passes, a fantastic meal in Van that included seafood and Bailey’s ice cream, and a sleepover on a king sized bed, I was off for Whistler solo.
I’m so glad for Stanley Park. It really is a jewel in the city, and somehow that abundant lushness dampens the buzzing of frantic city energy, if just for the moments of passing through it. Even the token postage stamp of a forest that it is still puts the rat race in perspective, as the canopy dwarfs the traffic and the bucked up windfall on the side of the road reminds of the strength of natural forces. Then you roll out of that reprieve onto the threshold of Lion’s Gate bridge, rather a beautiful sample of engineering.
The Sea to Sky is finished now. There’s a little bit of falling rock remediation happening still, but the new highway is a far cry from the last time I drove it- in white knuckled terror trying to keep the speed of traffic in an endless narrow lane on a wildly curving road all construction zone with high-hoes swinging over traffic and equipment perched on the edges of cliffs and rocks with only the Pacific behind them. Continue reading Off to Whistler→
It’s been so long since we’ve had a sunny day it feels like a whole different season. For the first time, I can feel my new 20-20 vision.
I also just went skating, and now I can hardly walk. My legs are all wimbly. First time this year; first time in a looong time. Sure seems like more than a year since I got into my sk8s. I think I was hurt last winter.
It seems like it’s been raining for ten days straight, but today, there’s a splash of sun on the mountains lightly sugared with snow. I couldn’t for the life of me get a decent shot, even after climbing on the roof. There’re power lines everywhere. It’s been so gray for so long. I’m grateful to be so busy.
It’s getting cold at night and I’m not sure how long camper life will last. The colder it is, the more condensation occurs inside, and I’ve not yet learned what it will take to correct that. Besides the dripping windows in the morning, I can take it much colder but can Kevin? So far so good. I’m addicted to the bed-preheating electric blanket, which makes every bedtime audible-sigh-worthy, and she sinks into the duvet in the V of my legs and purrs herself to sleep. Very very happy times.
Getting a little excited about having a farm to live on. Loosely planning for veggies and trees and berries- more things to research than anything else.