Midnight Rambles

So. Went to see Rise of the Silver Surfer tonight (which I thought was better than the first Fantastic Four movie, not that that's saying much) with Nic, almost ran out of gas on the way there and arrived with seconds to spare. Since we had no time to visit before the show started I suggested we hit Timmy's afterwards but Nic (being Nic) had a better idea. His cousin (or aunt or something) was camping at a certain location not far away, and would I like to go see her (bearing in mind it's nearly midnight). I'm not entirely sure I had ought to say exactly where the place was, suffice it to say it is a place known for hauntings and people have odd and disturbing incidents there in broad daylight. But hey, it's Saturday night and what else is there to do in this neck of the woods. So we head up there and find his aunt (or cousin or whatever) and she suggests a stroll through this place (she must work there as she had a key). And I'm thinking no way. Except I'm even more disinclined to stay outside on my own. And everyone is kind of laughing at me, but Nic grabs onto my hoodie as we walk down the hall, which completely creeps me out during the day, never mind after dark (the hall that is, not Nic grabbing my hoodie). I swear to Gitche Manitou I still have goosebumps. Thinking of smudging before going to bed...
Sorry there's no picture for this post, but as I question the legality of the evening's activities perhaps it's for the best.

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Has It Really Been a Month?

Wow. I just realized that I haven't written for a month. Also I gave my blog address to someone who bought eggs from me at the Farmer's Market, forgetting what my last post was about. Doyle, if you read this, please disregard the post about the eggs. I'm sure that weird egg was just the last gasp effort of one of the old hens, all of which have since been sent off to the auction (where I like to believe they were bought by a kindly old lady who will take the home and knit them sweaters or something equally warm and fuzzy).

So. I'm sure you're all (that's right my three quasi-regular readers, I'm addressing this to you) wondering what has happened in the land of Solomon since May 22. Not much, is the answer, but I'll update you nonetheless. So here goes in no particular order:

My brother shaved off his beard for the first time in years.

Geordie has grown bigger (and I suspect, badder as well). Here he is with some pilfered ice.

I rode a horse (on purpose).

Which gave me an excuse to unearth these from the back of my closet (there are other, far scarier things in there).

My sister and her boys came to visit. Here's Becky and my mom:

Gavyn, age 13. With his Buddha. Which I couldn't explain even if I wanted to.

Apparently he just can't make a nice smile for the camera. How 13 of him. He's far handsomer than one might suspect from these photos. Honest...

Evan age 11.

And with Gavyn's Buddha.

Here's three generations of hands.

Also, Ana and Mackenzie have become friends despite the fact she calls him Ma-gunjee, and when he's not around she refers to him as "just an extra boy"

I picked lots of salmonberries.

And made various jams and jellies to sell at the Farmer's Market.

So that's it, really. Nothing too exciting just life as usual. It's odd, it seems that the less I do the less I want to do, and less efficient I become. Needless to say, I have yet to find a job. I thought I had something lined up but it has fallen through, so back to the search (which now feels like a hopeless quest). I am hopeful that I will be off to school in September, but as it is not yet certain, I'm not exactly gonna go find an apartment and put down a deposit and all that, which makes me worry that I'll be forced to live in a ditch somewhere in Comox with several thousand dollars worth of camera equipment. On the plus side my band has sponsored me for school, drastically reducing the amount of money I'll have to beg, borrow or steal to make it through the year. I am truly blessed.

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Eggs

I do not like eggs. Not on a boat with a goat in the rain, etc., etc,.etc... It's not that I don't eat eggs, as they are rather hard to avoid, but I really just can't enjoy them, especially if I think about what it is I'm eating while I'm eating it (if that makes any sense at all). I think it has something to do with knowing where they come from (ever seen a cloaca?). If I don't think about what it is I'm eating, and if I'm hungry enough, I don't mind hard boiled eggs, or hard fried eggs, but eating runny yolk? Yech....

So you're probably wondering why I suddenly felt the need to share my dislike of all things eggish.

Two days ago, when I was collecting the eggs I found this:

What, not gross enough for you? Here's a close up:

And these things come out of the ass end of one of these:

So think about that when you're eating your breakkie.

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Tickety Boo

My cat Boo has disappeared. He hasn't come home for 48 hours, and while it still seems very unreal to me, I must assume that he is dead, most likely the victim of a coyote. There have been many coyotes around this year, and Boo was forever off in the field across the street hunting for mice. I hope his death was quick and painless. He was one of my Fort Langley kittens (just about the only good thing I took away from that place), and it is hard to look at the other two and not see him curled up with them on the couch. I hope I stop missing him soon.

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Don't Shop at Fraser Valley Building Supplies!!!!

Some days, I feel as though if it weren't for bad luck, I'd have none at all. Of course this isn't true, I am in fact one of the luckiest people I know, but as I am sure you all know there are some days when things just go sideways on you... Last Thursday was exactly that kind of day for me. I had to buy some cement to set post for my gate. I went as usual to Fraser Valley Building Supplies in Mission. Would that I had gone to the Rona. But no. As I drove into the stock yard at FVBS the gate slammed down on my hood, leaving behind a dent and a long scratch. The lady who works at the kiosk in the stockyard begged me not to yell and scream at her, and told me that it happens all the time, and that the store had had to pay to fix someone else's car in the past. Now, to be honest, I think that the accident was regrettable, but not unforgivable. I went into the store to the customer service desk, and the lady there called someone for me. The guys she called actually went out and looked at my car before they even spoke to me. How rude is that? They were very adversarial from the beginning, and one of them had the gall to suggest to me that my car was so old and ugly that it was hardly noticeable at all, and that it was just a scratch and it could be buffed out. Now, for those of you who have never seen my car I can tell you that it is neither old nor ugly. It's a 6 year old civic in very good condition, but that hasn't been washed for about a month. It's spring in BC, so of course it has a layer of road dirt on it, but it is far from a decrepit old beater.
In any case, the guys didn't promise to fix it, but told me to go to an autobody shop of their choice to find out the extent of the damage, which I did. Apparently they didn't like what they heard, and they offered first to pay half the repair cost, then when I said that was unacceptable, to pay the first $250.00. Of a $400.00 repair bill. For damage they were entirely responsible for. Heck, all I did was go to the store to buy $15.00 worth of cement. By the next morning, their offered had dropped to a mere $125.00
They were so contemptuous and rude that I will never shop there again, never mind the circumstances. From the very start, they set out to make me feel as though I was the one at fault, as though they were doing me some kind of favour by tossing $125.00 at me. Well I can assure you that $125.00 hush money is not enough. I wasn't expecting anything more than a sincere apology, and an assurance that the gate would be fixed. Perhaps an offer to pay my insurance deductible. Had they done so, they would have retained my custom. As things stand now, I will go out of my way to not give them my business. And I can promise you that over the course of the years this will cost them far more than the $400 it would have cost them to repair the damage they caused to my car. I ask that all you fair-minded, hardware shopping British Columbians who read my blog join me in my boycott of Fraser Valley Building Supplies, and head to Rona, or Home Hardware, or Home Depot instead.

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