My Aunt and Uncle from Nanaimo visited my parents in Whitehorse in May. Mum sent some pictures. I think it was the end of May too. Look at the snow!!! There is still snow on the mountains. Beautiful. Mum takes some great pictures of the scenery. She asked in her email if we remembered where they were taken. I definitely recognize the places with the people in them and Palmer Lake. I needed some help with the ones in the middle.

Having a BBQ.	Follow Wolf Creek to the Yukon River.	View from top of Miles Canyon.
Aunt Midge on left. Mum on right.	Typical bush plane North of 60.	Big Atlin Lake–not Alaska!
More Big Atlin Lake	Big Atlin Lake in background	No name lake in foreground
Palmer Lake	Palmer Lake.	Palmer Lake.

How’d I do Mum?

One thing I like about the Internet is that you can find communities of people who are interested in things you like to do. They can be virtual communities, or you may actually get to meet them face-to-face. For any degree of weird fetish you might have or any topic you are researching, there is some version of it out there on the Internet. If, for example, one day you were thinking you like dogs and on another day you were thinking you like bees. And, for some reason, you decided to see if there were any body else out there who liked dogs and who liked bees, you would probably google on the words: dogs and bees.

LOOK. LOOK what turns up: www.beedogs.com. How completely amazing. A community of people who dress their dogs up as bees. When you are searching the Internet, you can get as specific as you like. Right. I don’t have a dog. I don’t necessarily like bees. But there is a community out there for people who like both and who apparently like to dress their dogs up as bees.

Recently, for myself, I was thinking: Canadian in Bay Area. So I google Canadians Bay Area. Look what I found: Canadian Expats in San Francisco. Even more exciting. I signed up. I’m going to meet some Canadians—who speak the same language, who have the same sense of humour, who know that the official term for the Canadian one dollar coin is loonie, and the two dollar coin really is a twoonie, who will probably say “Sorry” a lot. People who are just like me: Canadians living in the Bay Area.

We have the same common background. We have the same language. When I meet them and say a word like neighbour or colour–there will be a U in my words. And they will know there is a U in my words. And they won’t ask me to repeat the words: house and out (oh–that reminds me I have to write my story about the outhouse). We will understand each other easier simply because we are not translating a word with no U. And when we talk about organizations or privatization–we know there is a zed in them. Not zee. Zed. (And if you’re Canadian and you’re reading this, you’re already smiling.)

Somehow, without having to explain about the zed or the U, it will make our conversations easier because we understand the word exactly as it is—no bits and bytes lost in translation. We won’t have to explain our cultural differences to each other. We aren’t going to have to explain why we are living in the States or why we moved here in the first place. Our conversations are going to be refreshing because we already know that Toronto is in Ontario, and Ontario is a Province, and Ottawa is the capital of Canada and that there is more to French Canada than Quebec. We are going to laugh at the same things because we find them funny or humourous (yes–humour with a U). We are just going to understand each other without having to explain ourselves for an entire evening. I can sense my relief already.

And best of all, I won’t have to explain that the Yukon is the Canadian part of Alaska. Yes–I’m definitely looking forward to meeting my fellow Canadians. I wonder if they will recognize my cell phone ring tone?

I talked to my parents last night. I told them I was looking for an interesting costume in which I could get a laugh and get some donations. I told them about my thoughts on rubber boobs and we tossed around a few ideas. My Dad said: What about that egg you were for Halloween that time? That was funny.

When I was sixteen, my Dad helped me make my Halloween costume. We made a huge paper mache egg. We painted on the front of it: I’m not all I was cracked up to be. On the back: I just got laid!! Ha! I was sixteen and pretty naive. My Dad just laughed.

Years later in Ottawa, my friend from University and I decided to make paper mache eggs again for Halloween. Here are some pics:

That was funny. We had a blast that Halloween. Yesterday, when my Dad mentioned it, I thought he was suggesting that I make another paper mache egg. But now, I think he might have meant make a big paper mache boob. I have to toss that idea around. It’ll have to be a set of boobs. And it will have to be funny.

Jim and Linda. You shouldn’t have. Thank you ever so much. I was just trying to plan how to raise more money. I went to check my status AND THE CUP WAS FULL!! THE CUP RUNETH OVER!!! OH MY GOODNESS. In a single donation!!!! Thank you very, very, very, much. I’m speechless.

Jim Thames and Linda Cochran. You are the best of the best.

When my parents came to visit me last December, my Dad had his head completely shaved. He did it in solidarity with our friend Therese who was losing her hair to chemo treatments. Therese’s husband Bertrand also shaved his head. When Dad shaved his head, he got Mum to take a picture and send it to my sisters. They didn’t send it to me because they were coming to visit and they wanted to surprise me. Anyway. My Dad wanted to take this picture and add the words: Support Breast Cancer. Look like a tit!

I’m looking for a funny–but respectful–costume to wear around Petaluma in hopes people (complete strangers) will see the humour and donate to my cause. I thought I could find some rubber boobs and incorporate them into some sort of costume. My brother-in-law said I should get those vests with fake boobs that they give to men in pregnacy classes so they can experience boobs and babies. I could get one of those and take it around and get some guys to try it on. I could get some donations out of that. That might be funny. I could get a big boob and wear it like a hat. That would be funny. Where would I get a boob big enough for my head?

Oh well. It seems like I’m going to have to think on it a bit more. Before I go out there and make a fool — ooops, a boob– out of myself, I want to be prepared.

One month to my AVON walk. I have raised $1100 so far. I don’t think that’s bad. I’m making a last big push before the end of the month. Personal goal: $1800. I’ve asked a few more people at work.

Maybe next week, I’ll wear my AVON walk T-shirt through the streets of town and see if I can’t get any support like that. Maybe, I should make my own T-shirt. I could write a question or something on the front of the T-shirt. Something like: What do you and Victoria Secret have in common? And, on the back, I could say: You both support beautiful, healthy breasts. I would get a donation or two out of that for sure.

Maybe, I’ll wear my bra on the outside of my shirt–or around my waist. That would be funny. Hmmm… Maybe, I’ll get dressed up tomorrow night and go out on the town. I could solicit donations at the local pubs. Yeah. Maybe I’ll do that. I wonder how much I’ll raise that way? AND–It will make an interesting blog story. Hmmm. You’re going to have to tune in for that.

Regarding my training progress: Up until last week, I was logging between 15 and 20 miles a week. That felt very good. Last Saturday I walked 3 miles down the mountain (Sonoma Mountain) and jogged back up. At the end, I also did a leg-butt workout. My legs were sore for four days after that, but it felt good anyway.

Yesterday, Pam in Kentucky called me out of the blue. She is a friend of a friend who donated to my cause. She was just calling to congratulate me on my efforts (which I really appreciate) and she called at the most opportune time. I was on my way to meet our mutual friend (Waitman), but because I’d just changed phones, I didn’t have his phone number to call him to tell him I was going to be a bit late. So–out of the blue, Pam phones me. I’ve never talked to this person before in my life, but she was the exact person I needed to talk to at that time AND, she had Waitman’s phone number.

I like serendipitous moments like that, like there is order in this great big chaos of life. Like someone is watching out for you and making sure you have everything you need at just the right moment in time. I’m going to believe in that for a bit–that there a right reason, a right time, and a right place for everything.

That bird. That stupid bird–the one I thought was trying to mate his reflection. My friend Mela says he’s a California Towhee. And, he’s jealous of the bird in the reflection. He’s staking out his territory and attacking the bird in the mirror. I just think he’s a bird brain. Here are some pictures of him attacking his relfection.

AND, to top it off, he’s now discovered himself in the passenger side window of my car. The other day I noticed my passenger side window was scuffed and marked. I looked closer and it turned out to be bird shit. Bird shit!!! All over my car.

I bought a rubber snake (now that I know a bit about snakes). I’m going to drape the snake over my window when I leave the car. Hopefully, it’ll scare the bird off–or at least deter him for a bit.

Yesterday, Alan told me he’d found two rattlesnakes sunning themselves on the deck. He said he’d found one on the BBQ deck. He’d opened the sliding door to go outside to play with the dogs and he’d just simply walked by it. He noticed it, though, when he was going to go back inside. It was already in striking position with its head cocked and it was rattling (I guess that’s why he noticed it). He got his tongs out and picked it up and put it in a bucket. He ended up relocating it onto the other side of the mountain on property that’s seldom used.

After he got back home, he noticed a puffed up gecko out by the pool and thought it looked a bit odd (being puffed up and everything). He looked around and found ANOTHER rattlesnake sunning itself on the deck outside my apartment!!!! He just put this one in a bucket. He said he would relocate it today.

Today, I realized I have tics, earwigs, mice, geckos, skunks, coyotes, deer, and now rattlesnakes in my new environment. Essentially though, I live in the middle of a field. I’m intruding on an established habitat. I shouldn’t be offended when I find an earwig or two crawling around. I shouldn’t be offended when I find a mouse in my garbage. I shouldn’t be offended when I find a gecko under the desk. And, for the most part, I’m not. Not really. I’m not a fan of tics, but I think if I keep out of the long grass, I should be OK.

Rattlesnakes though. RATTLESNAKES! How do I keep out of their path? And what if one gets in the house? I think I might get a bit paranoid now. I’m going to be checking my bed each night before I get in–just in case a snake or some nasty creature that I have absolutely no desire to share my personal space with–has crawled in and taken over.