Friday, June 14, 2013

Bears and goats and elk, oh my

It is raining in Hinton, Alberta. I am sitting in the Smitty's, drinking mint tea, waiting for the oil change to be done on our truck. We are getting reading for the adventure along the Alaska Highway. Today we will head towards Dawson Creek, Mile 0.

So far it has been awe-inspiring. There is nothing like driving the Icefields Parkway to make you feel insignificant, yet connected, to this planet of ours. Every turn of the road brings a new vista and we had to come up with other words besides magnificient, amazing, wow!

We have seen alot of black bears, quite a few elk (even a young, spotted one), and the best was the herd of mountain goats including a little baby goat. It looked surreal, almost like a stuffed toy. Too cute!

We have had a few campfires, campfire songs, and have cooked over the open fire.

I am sleeping better, although we seem to have a battery issue for dh's cpap machine so he is currently browsing batteries next door at the RV place.

I am reading alot, and haven't knit for a week. (Maybe they will take away my Ravelry membership. :) )

So, all is well, we are in contact with our kids as we travel thanks to my new smart phone. It was definitely a good investment.

So, ya, it is raining in Hinton, Alberta, and we are getting closer to our boy in the Yukon, and should be on the next leg of our journey before noon (with new batteries apparently as dh has just returned from his battery finding expedition).

We have been on the road for a week and I am holding my family and friends in my heart as I travel. Maybe it is the vastness of the mountains, or the quiet presence of the wild animals around me, but I am feeling vulnerable, and realizing the fragility of life within the billions of years of geology around me. We are here for such a short time, and need to make it count for something. For something, or for someones, we need to make it count.

So for those around me who are fighting cancer, caring for loved ones, suffering depressions, moving to new jobs in new cities, taking on summer, planning for the future, falling in love, being human, know that you are all in my heart. Keep me in yours.

Monday, June 3, 2013

The clouds are parting

And so the cycle continues. The clouds are parting and things are slowly improving. The ball is heading back up on its endless, repetitive cycle of bounce.

There is more sun. I am eating better. Our trip seems about to begin, for real this time. I am reading more, and starting to fret less. Well, maybe, just a little less.

I am getting things done. When the ball is heading down, about to land with a thud, I can walk by something every day that bugs me and I don't do anything about it. This week I have been vacuuming up those dust bunnies, sweeping up that dirt in the carport, throwing away junk, and recycling stuff. I guess you could call it Spring Cleaning.

My legs are still uber restless at night - a metaphor I am certain for - I want to get going on this next adventure. Soon. We will get going soon. Patience, dear one. Patience.

In preparing for this trip the reality of our age is setting in. It takes longer to get things done. The muscles are sorer at the end of the day. Getting down to the ground takes longer, and getting up longer still. However, all in all, we are moving forward.

And that is always a good thing.

My feet have been acting up this week, probably because I am on them too much with the preparations. Yesterday I lay on the front lawn, helping where I could, while my husband unloaded the truck and camper for a good cleaning. I realized that I have never seen any other neighbours ever do this. Lie on their front lawn. I do it often. It made me feel that feeling of difference. Not a bad difference. Just difference. I am not like other people. My husband and I are not like the other people on this block. It made me a little lonely, but also a little proud that at 57 I could lie on the front lawn and keep my husband company while he did his chores. I am such an odd thing, really.

I did climb on top of the camper to check the seals. (Not bad for an old girl). And I did clean out the cupboards, and found some missing items that had been lost since our last camping trip in February. I always feel good when I find lost things. My husband calls me 'the finder' because I have an innate ability to know where lost things might be. Usually they are small things like wallets, glasses, pieces of lego. Sometimes they are big things like relationships, love, hope and faith.

So yes, the clouds are parting.
That is something to be thankful for.