Summer Solstice

i spent a great deal of time last week being sad about leaving.  It's tough when you're happy somewhere to move on & here, in this Canadian yurt, i'm REALLY happy.  Having been travelling since 2004, i've finally found somewhere i could settle.  Except i can't because my visa is finishing & the yurt is rented to someone else for the summer.  Thus, once again, i shall stuff my things into a backpack & venture into the unknown.  But that's not for a few days yet.  There's still a few days left for Antoine & i to play here together (he will spend the summer in an apartment in Gaspé town).

Anyway, i'd rather be sharing with you what's been going this glorious past weekend.  For glorious it was!  

The beach 15 mins walk from the yurt.

As soon as Antoine got home from work on Friday night, we celebrated the solstice by taking the bikes to the nearby beach of Seal Cove. We didn't actually think there were any seals there...but just before we left, something jumped out of the water.  Twice.  It seemed to have 2 tails, so we think they were either playing or being amorous. 




 



A Day on the Beach with The Worm

Saturday's weather was

the worm stick = hours of laughter

stunning.  We packed a picnic & took a trip to the local beach.  On the beach we amused ourselves with a stick.  Like this...

We recreated a Scottish mythical beast...can you guess which one?

Laughter is a must when the worm looks at your ~ your turn!

We danced alone on the beach at sunset.  It felt like Thailand, until we went in the sea ~  then it felt like Canada again!




Les Enfants du Parc Forillon
The following day we woke

Parc Forillon, Gaspé

up ridiculously early for a Sunday & went to the National Park.  We hiked a small loop through the forest & ate a splendiferous picnic (yay Antoine!) overlooking views like this...
Afterwards it was time for more whale watching.  i sat for another hour and a half in the sunshine, with my eyes glued to the expansive golden water.  Antoine slept next to me on the trail.  i saw no whales, but the water had a wonderfully calming affect & allowed me to work through a lot of the feelings i have about leaving.  i love the sea.

My legs began to ache so i stood & walked around.  As i turned to face away from the water, i noticed what i thought was a horse stomping through the tall grass 10 metres away.  Then i realised 'That's no horse! That's a moose!"

"Antoine!  Antoine!" i called.  But the moose heard me long before Antoine did.  Turning it large head around to stare at me.  Eventually Antoine surfaced from siesta~ville & sat up.  We both noticed the baby at the same time:  only its ears & eyes visible as it trotted to keep up with its striding mama.

"Be careful" Antoine warned "We have to be ready to run."  But i felt so peaceful, there was no way this gentle giant was suddenly going to charge at us (we were by the edge of a cliff).  After a beautiful moment of meaningful eye~contact, she was off...the baby in tow.

And most likely because the park wished to compensate for the hiatus in whales, on our drive out of the park we saw a baby bear - just for a minute! 

***
Beach Party
That night there was a party on the beach.  Once again it felt like Thailand, except with campervans!  Fireworks, full moon, dancing, singing, chatting.  One man welcomed Antoine & i to build a yurt in the forest on his land.  It may have been the beer talking & perhaps it will never come to fruition, still i was deeply touched by his offer.  His land is stunning, high up, overlooking the sea. 

i was extra happy this night because after 1 or 2 beers i managed to speak 98% French (& was understood about 73% of the time!).  Those are passing grades people!

That busted open thing, that's the player!

Impromptu 8-Track Party
Also, sometime last week we busted out the 8-track player that Antoine fixed & hooked up to our awesome speakers.  Our Japanese friend, Satchi, was visiting & we all grooved our way through a huge collection of 8-tracks, from 70s disco, to Québecois crooners to Hendrix/Floydesq stuff...What was especially magical, is that the tapes were so old, that after they play once, they break.  So each listen was the last.  It was trés poetic.

8 Tracks

 
Onwards... 
Having been following this nomadic lifestyle (minus the yurt) for quite a few years now, i am very familiar with the emotions of leaving & moving on.  i know that it's the *transition* part which is the most challenging.  Once i arrive in the next destination, i'll be fine, but the packing & unknown aspects always rock my world.


This summer i am looking forward to:
~ seeing my family (including one brother i haven't seen for 3 years!) 
~ spending time with friends in Scotland (Emma, Claire & Chris, David...) 
~ showers & hot running water
~ extra long daylight hours
~ visiting my angel~sisters, one in Finland & one in Belgium
~ seeing friends briefly in London (Katie, Simon & Sonya & Pete!)
~ getting Antoine up to Scotland & all the fun we'll have there
~ making more crystals & finding work to put money in my account to fuel my journey to India to meet my soul-family, the Lhashikamos! & most likely up to Nepal too, for the beloved Annapurna mountains & crystal~weaver, Aya.

There's a great song in my head just now, repeating itself like a mantra: "i believe in the good things coming..." wanna hear more?...

Just to wrap up, i'd like to say how much i love this amazing human being...

The Road Less Traveled (aka Trans-Québec Trail 5)

Yeti watches as i 'give' a Reiki blessing to the car.

i mentioned at the end of my last post, that our neighbour had given us a car.  When i got in i kept telling Antoine that it felt like a 'big person's car' or 'adult car'.  This is in contrast to the one he'd been driving throughout winter.  "Success" (named after the tarot card i drew when asking her name) served faithfully throughout the snows.  The ignition was started with a screwdriver and well, i know there were many things wrong with her but i can't tell you what they were, because as far as i was concerned she worked perfectly.  It was a bonus, you see, being able to hear Antoine a couple of minutes before the car arrived at this Canadian yurt.
Well, Success is now in car heaven (most likely cha-cha-chaing with your car Lady Miss Emma) and we have a new car, Yeti.  Yeti was not named after a tarot card.  Yeti was named after her maiden voyage.  As we prepared to take her out for her first Antoine&JenniferAdventure(c) i grabbed the essentials, sage with which to bless & energetically clean the car, a feather to put somewhere inside & a small yeti doll, i bought in Nepal.  Blessings & Reiki complete, we set off just to 'drive around the block' the yeti swinging happily from the rear view mirror.


The thing with Canada

How the road looked as we started.

is, turns out that 'just around the block' can actually be rather far.  We took the first right and then could go right again to continue along the housed street (one house per 400m) or we could take "the road we've never been down before".  Well, duh!!!

i was reasonably sure i'd seen on Google Maps that this road rejoined the highway at Seal Cove, about a 10 min drive away.

Nope...it wasn't *that* road.  We bumped our way along, Antoine marveling at something called 'suspension' which i never notice a deficiency of after the thousands of kilometres travelled on Asian buses+roads.  But apparently the new car had it & it was good.

Apparently this 'suspension' was getting more and more useful, the more and more bumpy, rocky, muddy & pot-holey the track (no longer 'road') became.  After about 3km the trail was covered by one of those ominous bodies of water: impossible to guess the depth. Hmmm.  Antoine went to investigate with a stick.

The Brown Sea - as we approached.

"Hmmm" was his conclusion.  Followed by a rather optimistic "i think we can make it."

"50/50" i decided.

One of those 50s, could mean our car was stuck, submerged in deep mud, with Antoine and/or i standing calf deep in thick, watery mud, trying to push out the car whilst being sprayed with aforementioned mud.  Pre-empting this, i graciously announced,

"If we get stuck, i'm not pushing.  i'll drive & you push."  

We sat there, staring at the potential brown swimming pool before us.

"Let's do it."  announced Antoine.

"Alright."  i agreed, with a stomach flip.  We high-fived - the North American way of sealing an agreement.

i should point out that our new car is a car...not a 4WD, just a silver nissan, which our French teacher friend had most likely never taken off-road before.  Fortunately, she liked it.  We sped through the gargantuan mud-pool, spraying water higher than the car: feeling like Moses possibly did (except we were parting the brown sea).  Almost out of the pool, the wheels started spinning (arrrghhh) but regained their grip & we reached the other shore.

Jubilation!  Exhilaration!  We laughed and i congratulated & admired Antoine's can-do attitude.


5 mins later we

Celebrating not getting wet or muddy.  Photo-bombed by Yeti.

reached another brown sea.  It was smaller.  However, by this point, we'd been on the road for quite a while & weren't so sure where the road was going & had to consider the possibility of the road not actually going anywhere & having to return via the same obstacle course.

Antoine accelerated.  We made it through again but the trail worsened.  We saw signs that it we were on the Trans-Québec #5 - a skidoo trail crossing the whole of Gaspésie.  We reckoned it was probably headed to Percé about 40km from This Canadian Yurt -  although *surely* there would be a turn off to the main road sooner???  Occasionally we'd pass a small cabin in the woods & think that we must meet the highway soon - but we wouldn't.  

"Are you having fun?"  i asked Antoine.

"Hmmm, i don't want to wreck the car."  We should've stopped then.  But instead, we descended an especially steep, rocky segment of trail.  We were now in the 'constantly just wanting to see what's round the next corner' phase. 

After about 40 minutes of driving, we stopped the car & continued on foot. i'd specifically checked before we left the yurt, that we were "only going for a drive not a walk", so i didn't change out of the
short black cotton dress (it's summer now!) and cotton tai-chi shoes, like the soft plimsolls we wore in playgroup/kindergarten. 

We walked another 30 minutes.  Antoine giving me a kiddy-back across the muddier sections (he, i noticed, was wearing hiking boots - which he had in the car).  We arrived at a broken piece of trail.  Broken in so much as it was like a giant step, with bolders & water running through it.

"We can't cross this" stated Antoine.  i became the optimistic one, pointing out where the car wheels could go, how we could move other bolders, stones & logs & make a ramp.  Once again, having spent so many hours on Asian mountain roads, i've learned a thing or two about what's possible on roads (everything!).  Antoine explained that those Nepali buses are much higher than our car & that our engine would just crash straight into the stepped road.  

Oh well!  We walked back to the car.  i was musing about how it's like that sometimes in life.  It seemed like there was some bigger philosophical point Life was possibly making, but honestly my mind was focusing on the brown seas we were going to have to re-cross.  i couldn't remember hearing that Moses had parted his sea twice.

Whilst i was focused on the potential mud-fest, Antoine was focused on the oh-so-steep, rocky hill.  We climbed the steep hill on foot, removing the larger stones from the centre of the path, so the engine wouldn't be shredded on the ascent.  

i stood at the top of the trail, as Antoine started the car.  It stalled about a third of the way up.  As he restarted the engine, the wheels spun & the car began to sink down into the soft ground.  He let the car roll back down the hill, hoping to gather more momentum for the incline.  His second attempt saw the car bump & groan & scrape its way up two-thirds of the trail.  Antoine (rather expertly, i'd say) directed the car into a patch of road which had less mud than the others. 

Now it was time to push.  Pushing cars is a part of life in Canada.  You push them through snow, when they're broken down, when the battery's died...when there's on a monstrous hill in the middle of nowhere.  Like chopping wood, it's not a Canadian tradition that i'm so into (maple syrup on the other hand...).  

i realized that if we couldn't get the car up the hill, we were going to have to walk back to the yurt (which would take at least 4 hours & it was already about 4pm).  This motivated me to push reeeeaaaally hard!  

We stalled on the first try & succeeded on the second!  Yeeha.  More high-fives (or 'eiffel towers', as we call them - if anyone's seen The IT Crowd?) what a team building exercise this afternoon was turning out to be.

This has gotten to be a much longer story than i'd expected, so i'm just going to whiz us straight back through those brown seas (we counted them down as the muddy waves arced behind the car - there was quite a bit of nerves around the last & biggest one, as we'd really had enough adventure for one day thankyouverymuch).

We noticed another turning in the road, one which we'd previously thought lead to a cabin.  We left the car & walked down to what was a massive wooden bridge.  This was most likely the trail i'd seen on Google Maps.  The massive wooden bridge looked rickety but like we may be able to cross it, thereby avoiding the final brown sea.  Antoine wasn't up for it.  Instead he bathed (read: did push ups) in the cold river running beneath.  We headed up towards the car & found the remains of a moose.  Nature had really gone to work on that one.  There were 2 white jaws left, complete with teeth & 2 small random bones & A LOT of hair spread out over a large area.  i collected the bones for a dream-catcher (moose is a powerful symbol of ancient feminine wisdom dontchaknow) & Antoine obliged at playing moose-dentist and removed one of the teeth (which will be a part of your creative-pay-it-forward, Sandy!).

How the yurt's looking without snow.

On our way back, i looked at the swinging yeti & announced to Antoine that i knew the name of our new car.  
We were so happy to hit tarmac that we went into town.  There was some reason for it, although all i can remember now is the poutine (chips, cheese & gravy - although just chips for veggie-me) with which we celebrated.

Thanks for getting through this story.  Especially with a lack of pictures.  I videoed Yeti passing through the initial brown sea, then the camera battery died, leaving this journey photo-less (except for a few screengrabs you see here).  Although writing this all out has been wonderful as the journey it's now more clearly etched in my mind.

Other Yurt Goings-on..
Dodo Rouge
As i was finishing writing up this story, sitting outside the yurt in the sunshine, i heard a squeak-barking close behind me.  i can't be sure, but i'm relatively certain our renegade squirrel was trying to say hi to you.

The view from the yurt.

Clearing the Appellation Trail
The day after our rally ride, Antoine took me to join a group "Clearing the Appellation Trail" (he enticed me to come, believing it was one of my favourite jobs - picking up trash in nature.  When it was actually one of my least favourite jobs - being involved in cutting down pieces of living nature).  Although i appeased myself by remembering that because this trail exists many people spend countless hours in nature.  i thanked the tree of each branch removed.


Photobooth

 Our vintage photobooth.

Last night we set up a vintage themed photobooth for an event of the local music festival Bout Du Monde (the festival itself happens in August).  It was really great fun & i met one of the organisers who'd taken a group of 16 year old Québec kids on their first non-Canada outing to Varanasi, India.  i guess if you can organise that, you can organise anything!


This blog is dedicated to Emma Williamson, for being such a belter & so vulnerable, honest & funny in her radio show - good luck for doing the breakfast show on Heartland FM next week! 

It's also dedicated to Martin Champ Roux, who was Success' personal mechanic & who Antoine said would have also gone straight through every single muddy lake too!  

Grass replaces snow at this time of year.

The Return of Dodo Rouge & Maiden Canoe Voyage

Clatter Bang

Gaspé is currently doing a good 'Scottish-weather' impersonation

Last night we were awoken from a deep sleep by a HUGE CLATTER BANG inside the yurt.  "Ça va," said the ever optimistic Antoine.  We turned on the light & discovered that our 20 litre container of water had jumped off its self into the sink/bowl beneath.  Why it decided to do so at 3am i have no idea.  If the shelf had suddenly collapsed under the weight of the container, i would understand.  But everything - except the handle of my favourite mug - was as it should be.  Any experts in physics (or ghosts!) are welcome to donate theories.

The Return of Dodo-Rouge
My favourite moment from last week was The Return of Dodo-Rouge.  i was lying in the long spring grass, absorbing the sun after a nice lunch.  Antoine was doing his college work, by the open door (where the wi-fi is strongest).

Stock photo of Dodo Rouge

"Dodo Rouge!" Antoine exclaimed.  i sat up & saw a streak of red charging towards the trees.  "Dodo Rouge!" i called exuberantly.  "He was right here, with his paws on the doorstep" Antoine told me. 

Dodo had placed himself on top of Antoine's bike.  Right on the bag which sits on the handlebars.  He was staring at me.  He commenced to squeak-bark.  "i'm happy to see you too!"  i told him.  He continued to squeak-bark & stare at me.  i know he was telling me all of the adventures he'd been having in the last weeks since we'd seen him.  all the trees he'd climbed, beavers he'd seen, pine cones & female squirrels he'd nibbled!  It's a shame that my Squirrel is even lamer than my French & i couldn't really capture the essence of his journey.

He continued to squeak-bark & eye-ball me for a good 5 minutes before running up into the tree.  i chatted back to him, telling him how he was missed by all the blog's readers.  in my delight of seeing him i quite forgot to take his photo, but rest assured that he's looking healthy and getting bigger.  i imagine his diet now consists of something more nutritious than toast crumbs.


Maiden Canoe Voyage

As part of his course, Antoine's been going to a walking group.  i haven't been able to join in because of my knee (and hearing his stories of wind, snowshoes & freezing temperatures during the winter were less than enticing).  But last Sunday i joined in.  i'm also reluctant to walk in a group (having been spoiled by frequently walking alone in the Himalaya) i like to take time to connect with the nature, rather than race around the paths with a gym/fitness mentality.  it's cool if that's what you're into, but it's usually not my preferred way to be in the woods.  However, as Antoine's been so busy the past 6 weeks, it was a rare opportunity for us to hang out together.

Of course i had an awesome time.  Because it's Canada.  Because it's nature.  Because Canadians are just so darned nice.  When we arrived at our destination lake, we bumped into friends from the college, who offered us a trip across the lake in their canoes (who found it funny that i'd never been in a canoe before!).  And thus was my maiden voyage...

Canada, i love you THIS MUCH...

Antoine also discovered today that he got a summer job for Parc Canada (at Forilion, making videos & photography) which is awesome news & means that he'll be staying in Gaspé for the summer, whereas i'll most likely be returning to Scotland in July.  It's gonna be tough to leave This Canadian Yurt.

& remember, we are welcoming theories as to why our water container threw itself off the shelf at 3am this morning....

Spring! & 'Things i Hear'

snow is melting

Last week was wonderful.  Spring started showing up more regularly.  There were less -10C moments & only 3cm of snow.  The last night it snowed i went outside & respectfully told winter to "GET OVER IT".  Like some drawn-out romantic crush, winter now seems gotten over. 

After seeing nothing but snow for months now, it's so exciting to go for a walk and see THINGS.  Grass, whole bushes, furry buds on the trees, seaweed & driftwood on the beach.  i discovered that you can polish driftwood with a stone & yesterday i made myself a hair stick.  and i taught our friends, who are the owners & chefs of the local Asian restaurant how to cook scrumptious Indian food (but forgot to take a photo for the blog, d'oh!)

the hair stick i made from driftwood

Also, i danced for the first time since i dislocated my knee :)  we went to the local film festival & met an amazing animator (Martine Chartrand who paints on glass: http://www.nfb.ca/film/black_soul/).  i've been spending a lot of time with crystals.  (that's maybe a whole other part of me that some of you don't know.  can see my work here:  http://crystal-light-web.blogspot.com).  i've been preparing to launch an etsy shop, taking photos, writing blurbs about the pieces i have made, & of course the actual of the crystal necklaces.

breakfast w/Dodo Rouge (who got camera shy)

i am now going to hang out the washing. outside.  it is a big moment in This Canadian Yurt!

For those interested, i'd also like to share some of the writing is did the first day i sat outside the yurt (which i mentioned in the last post).

 

9 Things i Hear [& a story concerning squirrels]

1. It gets so silent here that the flapping of crows’ wings counts as an Event.

2. Droning of fridge and flies disrupts the silence.

3. Do i hear electricity marching through the wires, or crickets chirp-croakin’ in the dogwood?  Which has more stamina?

4. The surround-sound of nature’s amphitheatre makes the cries of even the crass seagulls an auditory feast.

5. Unseen geese honks, coyotes’ howls & wood peckers’ drills gives an eerie sense of irrelative space in the valley.  I can’t tell the distances between these things:  i don’t know how or where i fit in.

6. The line “a peace that passeth understanding” could’ve been written for the silent space i feel inside here.

7. Buddha-still i contemplate a list of words, concentration buried beneath layers of syntax.  The Jay lands suddenly at my feet, our squealed shocks ricocheting off one another: like opposing magnets of sound, we are both pushed physically backward.  Sometimes i am unsure to whom the fright belongs, but my heart thuds as though it were all mine.

8.  The rare times a car passes, i curse “bloody highway”.  i do it just to hear Antoine’s laugh.

9.  i can’t decide if i prefer the French word ‘brouhaha’ or its English counterpart ‘hubbub’. i whisper them aloud.

Memories of a morning i awoke to a scratching scramble coming from above.  Squeezing open an eye, i reluctantly brought into focus the transparent circle in the centre of the yurt’s roof.  A sprawled, grey shadow appeared, accompanying the grating thumps.  The petit mass threw itself uncertainly across the roof.  It bounced & belly-flopped in semi-circles around the chimney, as though performing some kind of pagan theatre piece to a smoky (volcanic-esq) god. My eyes and mind finally co-ordinated to conjure the word: squirrel.  And as if the label broke the spell, he was gone.  Sliding down the ropes with the air of a circus-performer exiting from a magnificent show.

Anyone else see the halo?

 And yes, Dodo-Rouge is still dining with us!

Squirrel Neighbour

We have a new neighbour at This Canadian Yurt.  Well, half neighbour, half pet.  (He'd resent that, but i don't care.) 

He's moved into the yurt's 'basement' (read: wood storage space).  He likes to take his breakfast on our 'patio' (read: large doorstep) at 8.30am & returns for dinner about an hour before sunset.  Not a fussy eater - rice, toast crumbs, slivers of butter. 

Dodo Beijing

i've lived with a squirrel before.  Five months in Beijing.  They're brazen creatures with a childish sense of humour.  Dodo, the squirrel, was more trouble than the 2 year old boy who named him.  Forever sneaking into the kitchen & eating the veggies; or knocking over glasses of milk, coffee, green tea, anything really...  When you were in a hurry to go out & needed him inside his enclosure, he'd always find a new place to hide.  He could run fast & would play dirty.  He ate a precious Indian mala (rosary) of mine.  i knotted all 108 beads back together & now i savor his teeth marks in the beads.  i loved that infuriating squirrel.

So, i consider myself prepared for this wild one, with his punky red hair.  He is called Dodo Rouge & seems to be either a relative or reincarnation of Chinese Dodo.  

i saw him the other morning considering daylight yurt robbery.  i could tell from his defiant stance: one paw resting delinquently on the very camera i’d placed there to capture him.  Ears back, eyes shiftily casing the joint.  i gave him the stink-eye to let him know that he’d have a fight on his furry wee hands if he set so much as a claw inside my pad.  He held my gaze like a bad-ass gangsta.  Unwilling to be intimidated on home-turf, i stepped toward him.  He shot, a red streak of lightening, into the nearest tree & squeak-barked a string of what i’m sure were squirrel profanities & cusses at me – swearing revenge when i least expected.

Yo! He was all up in my face!

And you know you've spent the winter in Canada when it's -2C yet feels warm enough to sit outside for an entire day & write poetic musings. i may post the musings another time.  They're less cute than the squirrel though - he had to come first.

This post is for my Mum who defines squirrels as 'rabbits who cheat' because they run up trees when being pursued by her dogs.  And for Kieran Lewis Singleton, who entered the world last week...may all your pets be as ACE as the Dodos!

"'Did i leave the gas on?' No of course not...i'm a bloody squirrel"  Eddie Izzard

The Great Dislocation

To date, my blogs have been photo heavy, but there - fortunately - aren't any pix of this event.  i wrote (on a typewriter!) a true story from last week instead...

(To be read as though one is Jane Austen.)

***********

Dear Reader, i have a stomach churning story to share with you today – so shake off any squeamishness and remember the tough-stuff of which you were fashioned.

A week ago today, fresh chunky flakes of snow piling up on the already white ground, i innocently wandered down the path toward home, unaware of the bravery that would be summoned afore i reached the door.  Yes, reader, between me and my safe, cosy yurt, an unexpected turn in events was to unfold.

I lifted my leg to make the step up into the yurt – but i slipped, twisted and fell.  It is unclear to me exactly what happened, only i do recall thinking “This is how my knee feels when it goes dicky.”  Then i hit the snowy deck.  i clutched at my knee in horror: tickety boo it was not!  My kneecap was perturbed, out-of-sorts and indeed – dislocated!

i pushed at my knee joint, but alas the bone was not co-operative and the stubborn fellow refused to return back to whens he came.

“Jolly hockey sticks!” thought i, better call for assistance.  My brain, being rather distracted at this moment decided upon a most unusual call.  Less attention-seeking bear and more distressed-squirrel:  “Heee heee heee!” i intoned, hoping to attract Antoine to the rescue.  (He later informed me that he had believed the noises i was making to have been related to frolicking in the snow, as opposed to floundering in it.)  However, when he observed me in lying as a disheveled, ungainly mess in the snow, he fortunately had the good sense to investigate further.

Antoine proved once again that he really is quite unshakable.  He moved me into a more sightly position, before pushing gently on my knee. Yet it was to no avail.  He then elected to pull on my leg, but he too had no luck in returning my patella home.  Looking me straight in the eye, cool as the winter surrounding us, he told me his plan and asked if i trusted him.  Trust him i did & he commenced to pull on my leg.  Becoming aware that i was hyperventilating, i steadied my breath.  

“It’s not working!” he announced calm, composed and dashing as ever.  “I….errr…need to put my foot on your…err…chest.”  He blushed.

Well Readers!  What a pickle! Such an immodest proposition, quite unbefitting of the girl i am and of my inherent ladylike nature.  However, i implore you to understand, we were alone in the forest without telephone nor pigeon and no hope of rescue.

Indeed, dear Antoine was flustered by the brashness of his suggestion and the repercussions it could have for him in the local parish.  For, as he prepared to change positions, he quite forgot himself and placed his weight on my injured leg.  I made more squirrel noises in response.  

Naturally he was most apologetic and meaning to resolve the situation as quickly as possible, we pressed on.  One hand on my calf, the other around my ankle, his foot against my heaving chest – we sat like a broken human pretzel in the snow.  He continued pulling, i continued breathing and what would you know?  By Jove, my kneecap slipped right back into its bony nest.

Like the decent chap he is, Antoine removed his foot from my chest and helped me to my feet.  Bless him though, he had no idea that any kind of recovery was necessary after a dislocation.  Believing it to be more akin to when an item of silverware falls from a table – once it is replaced the banquet continues as before.  (Fortunately he had been paying attention to the crutial part of that first-aid lesson, as i wouldn’t have had the foggiest idea how to have instructed him in my state of affairs.)

And naturally, i was well equipped to deal with the fall-out and aftermath, what with all my E.F.T. training, Reiki abilities, crystals, tarot and Google.  But that is all quite another story and one not at all befitting of such prose.

Needless to say, seven days later, the home-fires are still burning, life goes on as before and visits to the snowy outdoor latrine are becoming easier step by step.

********************

Totally unrelated photo i took last week at a hockey game!

Okay, it's me again back in 2013!  there's another blog entry about my recovery using all those healing methods, here. 
  

Today's post is dedicated to my dear friend, Katie, who started her maternity leave this week: enjoy getting the big-top ready for the wee gorilla ;) pomegranate kisses all round!

Thanks also to Jennifer & Imana who gave great healing support this past week.

And to Antoine, for putting my knee back together, making me pizza & doing a great Elmo to cheer me up "Elmoooo wuvssss youuuu."

Return of the Onesies: A Comic Strip