Shifting North

To say it's been a while is a bit ridiculous. I wish I could also say that I hardly believe it's been six months, but that would be a lie. I've been avoiding this entry for some time now. I suppose it was an internal need to go underground for a while and be non-existent in the online world. Or maybe it was simply work commitments that left me lacking in the creative writing department. Or maybe I just got tired of sitting at the computer - whatever my excuse, I'm back. For now at least.

The last six months have both flown by and crawled like a snail. Work consumed nearly my ever move as I did the final preparations for the HSFC Art & Film Festival that occurred on January 14-20, 2013. It was maddening to try and sort out so many details all at once, all the while feeling bombarded with people wanting to do things, say things and be a general annoying distraction to my wanting to just get things done. And yet I did get it done. The event happened and was a brilliant success that made me proud. I had managed to do what many people deemed impossible and only gave me confidence to realize what I am capable in doing when it comes to my career.

That being said, amidst my love of Hanmer Springs, my work at the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp and dreams of sticking around for the next few years (or at least until my Residency Application is approved) - it became clear in the last couple of months that it was time to move on. And quickly so.

For all the things that I can not write here, I can say that I find it completely fascinating how a people interact in moments of stress and situations that threaten a complete breakdown of lifestyle. Everyone's true colours come out and it is quickly apparent who is trustworthy, who should be feared and who should be cut out from all aspects of life interaction forever. Through my most recent challenges of life I have learned who my real friends are and that sometimes standing up to do the right thing doesn't always mean that everyone else follows suit. Sometimes doing the right thing means life as it is known is changed forever.

And so my life has changed. For the better - I hope. My relocation to Wellington has been a quick process considering it involved me packing up my belongings and two cats, finding a suitable flat to rent (included a weekend to scout out some dismal possibilities), and get myself (and cats) to the North Island with the vehicle I don't own.

Five days ago I caught the bus to Christchurch to pick up a relocation campervan under my name. Thanks to this brilliant idea from Campbell, a relocation campervan would allow me to skip the hiring fee of a vehicle, skip the ferry charge and allow me to transport all my belongings to the North Island worry free. Seemed good in theory, but little did I know that I was in for a surprise that day.

I arrived at the Christchurch airport and contacted the rental company to get the shuttle to their location so I could pick up the vehicle. They said 15 minutes. I said no problem. I stood at the bus stop with no shelter in the cold wind with my broken hair straightener in hand (I planned to exchange it later on). 15 minutes went by. 30 minutes went by. At 45 minutes I called the company and asked where the shuttle was. They told me that it was coming "soon." And so I waited. After an hour had gone past (my fingers were blue from the cold), I called them again. They said the driver was on route and would be there in a minute. Another 15 minutes went by and I gave up, went and hopped in a cab and drove there. The drive took me 2 minutes. I could have walked there in the amount of time it took to stand and hope for someone to pick me up.

I briskly walked into the reception area of the rental company only to be faced with about 10 people standing there looking rather bleary. No one was talking. No one was smiling. No one was doing much of anything, including the one staff member who was staring at their computer screen. I quietly sat down and tried to calm my fuming nerves as I waited for my turn.

Eventually a staff member asked for my name and I told him. Turned out he was the shuttle driver and he exclaimed that he had had difficulty trying to find me at the airport. I told him that an hour waiting was ridiculous and I took a cab instead. He didn't laugh. Neither did I. He then informed me that there was no relocation vehicle ready to be picked up at this point in time. I asked him what he meant and he stated that there would be one later in the afternoon but he could not confirm when it would arrive. Maybe in 1 hour. Maybe in 4 hours. I was angry. I asked him how this could be when I was informed by the rental company upon booking the vehicle that I could arrive any time after 9 a.m. to pick up the vehicle. It was now noon and I could be waiting another 4 hours for a vehicle? He confirmed this. I then went on to question how this could be when they expected me to relocate the vehicle up to Auckland (they don't do drop offs in Wellington) in three days when I could be wasting my first day simply waiting for the vehicle. He shrugged his shoulders in response.

I managed to contact another rental company who needed a vehicle relocated. They booked me in and I cancelled with the first guys and started walking. The second company was back at the airport where I had started. I had spent $24 on a cab ride that was wasted as no I was circling back. Eventually I got sorted with them and was on my way. It was 3:30 p.m. I had wanted to be packed and leaving Hanmer Springs by that time. I was only just driving back.

Packing the vehicle was a mad rush with friends and then I was off. My brain had hardly enough time to process everything - the fact I was actually leaving Hanmer Springs - I just drove. Me in the front seat with two cats in their carriers. They were not particularly happy with me and Indie continued to try and get out of his box.

Travelling with cats was never something I had considered when I adopted them as my own and yet I was thrown into the situation because of circumstances. I was told to always keep them in a carrier - one each (I could only afford one and so Indie had a cardboard box) and every 1-2 hours to let them out to do their business. This meant that not only did I have the two cat carriers strapped in the front seat next to me, but I also had a litterbox on the floor. Perfect. Each time I stopped to let them out, it took twice as long to get them back in. Being stuck in a box was not their idea of fun and they protested in any way they could.

I made it to a rest stop near Picton by 11 p.m. and tried to sort out the front seat to sleep. It seemed ironic that I had a fully-equipped campervan to use at my disposal and yet I couldn't because it was jammed packed with all my stuff. And so sleeping in the front seat it was. With two cats roaming free.

Sleep was lost on me and I am not sure I really got much. By 4:30 a.m. I was up again to quickly change, brush teeth, pee in the bush and try to put the cats back in their carriers. Then we were off to the ferry. A few hours later I was driving off the ferry and on route to my new flat. And then I was there.

Unpacking the vehicle proved to be slightly more difficult than it was to pack it. Primarily because I was on my own, but also because my flat is only a short walk up a steep hill to get there. That and I couldn't find Kaeto. He had hidden somewhere in the vehicle while we were on the vehicle and I didn't find him in time to put him back in his carrier. This meant that each time I opened the door to grab the next box while unloading, I feared a black cat would come flying out as part of his great escape. But it never happened. As the vehicle slowly got emptied, I never once saw Kaeto. I continued to call his name and listen for a response and there was nothing. I started to think that maybe he had escaped when I had gotten back into the vehicle on the ferry as the ferry was the last time I had seen/heard him. Maybe I had lost him and he was still wondering that ferry - or worse - maybe someone had run him over when all the vehicles drove off it. My mind was rolling through all the possibilities.

It was when I was getting down to the last boxes that I spotted movement in the front seat. Kaeto had decided to appear from his hiding place - squished under the driver's seat. How he fit there, I have no idea. But I was just glad to see him again. He wasn't so happy to see me. The second our eyes locked he scooted his way back into his dark hole where I couldn't reach him.

It took till the very end where I managed to shift the front seat forward and drag Kaeto from his hiding spot. Once inside the flat both him and Indie took their time scouting out every possible nook and cranny. It didn't take very long as my flat is considerably smaller than the 2 bedroom house I lived in in Hanmer Springs, but I was glad to have a home. A home for all of us.

And so here I am - capital city of New Zealand and it's brilliant.

Up the Garden Path

Time has been flying along in its normal fashion these days. I've handed in my Work Visa Application - $270 + $350 Medical + $70 Police Certificate - just so that I might be able to stay in NZ long enough to get my Residency Application approved. And so it goes. The pile of paper on my desk indicating a pressing need to delve into my personal life and show I am who I say I am is haunting me. But I have to do it. Scrounging up a birth certificate and proof of each individual work experiences I've had in my life should be a hoot. Can't wait. Can't wait until it's all over and I can stop having a date of termination virtually stuck on my forehead.

As it stands, I've been preoccupying myself with other tasks - part procrastination - part distraction. Obsessing over the status of my boxes I posted to myself from Canada has become my new hobby. Current status? Still in the hands of some customs officer. Don't they realize that my 6 boxes being sent to the same address with bits and bobs so obscure even I don't remember what's in them are in no way suspicious? Fingers crossed I didn't accidently pack a piece of dirt in one of the boxes -- that's one sure way to never see my things again.

In my time of waiting for my power cord to my laptop and the second shipment of my published book, I have taken up planning my garden for this spring. Turns out to be a little bit more like going back to school than it does in picking up a new hobby. For some reason it seems relatively terrifying to have to learn how to grow something living that I will one day hopefully be able to eat than it does to pick up a crochet needle and design a cozy throw. Even still, I press on with the mere hope that perhaps I will somehow discover I have a green thumb hidden under all this nail polish and that the amount of work put into caring about the acidity level of my homemade raised flower beds will one day pay off.

So far - the plan is there - now it is just implementing it. Who was it that decided that gardening supplies should be so expensive? Who would have thought that a bag of dirt could cost so much. Go figure. Regardless, I am keeping up the hope that come summer time I will be well on my way to a year round veggie patch. Plus a couple of flowers thrown in there too.

I've started things off in the vain hope that I can somehow keep two indoor pots of herbs going. Parsley and Coriander have become my new plant babies, sitting up proud on my kitchen ledge in front of the window. Fingers crossed they manage to catch enough sunlight to continue growing. That and that I don't sporadically water them too much or too little, causing their immediate demise. I've recently been told that Coriander can be quite difficult to keep alive and so given that I have managed to not kill it in its last 9 days of living with me has been reassuring. At least more so than my reputation of somehow managing to kill my cactus plant as a child.

And so it goes - the rain appears to be settling in for the last part of winter here and I only hope this means good things for the garden I have yet to grow. Perhaps I can manage to convince a few people to grow things with me and then weeding won't seem so much a chore in the next few months.

Garden or no garden - Kaeto continues to walk around like the little black ninja that he is - even taking to following me down the main road for a kilometer before waiting 2hrs in the bush to walk me back home. Jess continues to be my running buddy - or at least when I finally get out of bed and am motivated to run in the rain. Again. But above it all, I still have to sort through my Residency Application. Who would have thought that trying to get into a country would be so demanding. Surely there will be points given for walking the length of the country right? Fingers crossed.

Around the World and Back Again

I find it difficult to believe that it's already been over a week since I have been back in New Zealand. The last few weeks have literally been a whirlwind of craziness that has left my head screaming for everything to just stop so I can catch up. The last week in Canada was no exception.

After spending a bit of time in Invermere to do the Jumbo Pass trail with my dad, we headed back to the city only for me to continue my onslaught of scheduled activities with various people around the city. There was the dinner night with my Grandma to which we made our own mango chicken dish and then proceeded to watch a marathon of Mantracker shows before calling it a night.

My grandma, Danielle, me & Mom

The following day I had lunch with an old friend and then due to another friend cancelling our evening plans, I managed to have a bit of a breather before the next day loomed ahead. Meeting another friend for lunch, I proceeded to meet up with my mom where we caught up on the going ons of our week before heading off to get photos done with my sister and Grandma. It was a blast to just be hanging out and giggling the afternoon away while a photographer captured the moment. Something I am sure we will all treasure for the rest of our lives.

That night my sister and I slept over at my mom's house as the following morning we had plans to be at C.O.P. We had scheduled ourselves in for their summer package deal - Ziplining and Bobsledding for a mere $99 each. Perfect. An air of excitement hung around us as we waited for things to get going. And then while we strapped ourselves in our harnesses and helmets. And then while we drove to the top of C.O.P. before piling in the elevator that took us to the top of the massive ski jump used in the '89 Winter Olympics. As the ski jump is no longer in use, C.O.P. has used the opportunity to modify the jump into an incredible ziplining course.

I was stoked.

The instructors took a few minutes to explain the basics and then asked who wanted to go first - Danielle and I jumped at the opportunity and confidently clambered down the see-through stairs to where we would get harnessed to the zipline rope. Though I've ziplined before, there was something still so exhilarating about the knowledge that I would be hurtling down a rope hung high above the world below before coming to a stop at the bottom, all the while hoping like mad that nothing incredibly horrific would happen. It didn't. Danielle and I flew do the bottom with smiles plastered on our faces before disembarking and waiting for our mom.

Then came the bobsled. This was something I had always wanted to try since I knew you could and upon talking to my aunt about it, apparently so did my Great Grandmother. Due to the age of my Great Grandmother at the time, C.O.P. refused her to be allowed to try the adrenaline sport and so she passed away without getting to cross it off her bucket list. I figured perhaps my run of the bobsled could be part tribute to my Great Grandmother.

As nice as that sounds, the actual ride of the bobsled was entirely different from anything I really had expected. As we were going during the summer, there was no ice on the route and so we were riding in a sled with wheels. And because we were all amateurs, we were told to sit in the sled while the "driver" would give us a push before jumping in to steer the course in order to hopefully eliminate the chance of us flying around the corner and off the entire run itself.

We were told to hold onto the bars by our sides, lock our elbows and shrug our shoulders to support our heads and prevent them from being knocked about inside the vessel. Right. Once we picked up speed, there was no stopping me from being a manic bobble-head once sees strapped to the dashboard of a vehicle. Beings that I was a the front, I was hoping I'd get a chance to see what was coming for us, but I ended up being too busy just trying to keep my head from falling off.

By the end of our run (1min, 19sec) - my head, neck and shoulders hurt. But it was awesome. I haven't a clue how they call bobsledding a sport and probably won't ever volunteer to do it again - but it was well worth it.

Janelle & me

From C.O.P. it was a mad dash to Invermere where I met up with some girls for Janelle's Bachelorette party. After a couple days of shopping, spa-going, penis games and dancing, it was time to come back. But not before meeting up with Trevor and co. in Banff for a little outdoor concert. It was perfect. Particularly when I got word from my dad that my books had arrived. I was ecstatic.

When I got back to Calgary, I ripped open the box of books only to be in awe at the fact that they were real. I had never quite registered what it would mean to hold a book in my hand that I had written myself and it was a bit surreal. But I didn't have much time to dwell on that as it was time for bed. The next two days would need all my energy.

That following day I spent madly running around town (thanks to my mom being my chauffeur) delivering my freshly printed books. I had to sell as many as possible before I left because there was no way I'd be able to ship them back to NZ without an exorbitant charge and I also needed the money to fund what I did want to post back to NZ. And so sell them I did. By the end of the day I literally had sold about 90 of the books and only had a handful left to take back to NZ. Perfect.

By the time I packed everything and stored everything and paid for post boxes and had my haircut and opened a savings account at the bank and had a quick dinner, it was time to get to the airport. I had a similar feeling to when being blindfolded and spun around and then expected to walk in a straight line afterwards. My mind was a blur and I only hoped I would stay awake long enough to board the correct plane.

Trevor, Mom, Lori, me & Danielle in Banff

After a layover and plane switch in Vancouver and 15.5hrs later, I had made it to Sydney. But with a 10hr layover there, it would be a while until I'd get to Christchurch and eventually Hanmer Springs. With the spare time, I picked up the very popular Fifty Shades of Grey book from the bookstore and read it start to finish right there in the airport. I was not impressed. I haven't a clue why everyone is so excited about the book and definitely do not recommend it to anyone. It in no way got my "blood pumping." Instead, I had trouble staying awake to finish it. Bummer.

Eventually I found my way to a bed in Christchurch and then met up with Kelly the next morning to do some much-needed grocery shopping before heading back to Hanmer Springs. It felt good to be back.

And now that it's been over a week, it is as though not much has changed. I am still waiting for my post boxes from Canada in the mail, though I have managed to hang a few photos on my sparse walls. It has been both difficult and easy to get back into the swing of things and it really does feel like home.

What We Do to the Earth

What we do to the earth we do to ourselves.

~ Lululemon

I've made it. Over 24hrs of travelling and I have officially reached the homeland. My homeland. It's a little strange to be here after being away for 3 years - yup, that's right. 3 entire years I have been gone. It's a little crazy and I have no explanation other than time seems to fly when having fun. 

Enjoying the view

To say coming back to Canada was a little intimidating is the understatement of the year. I was entirely petrified. No one except my sister knew I was coming for the simply fact that the thought of showing up at the airport after 24hrs of travelling and 3 years of being absent, the 20-some people eagerly waiting to greet me freaked me out. Talk about pressure. 

And so I planned it as a surprise. Didn't take much effort other than to book my flights and inform my sister of the date of my arrival. And then hope she'd even show up. 3 years changes things - it certainly changed me and I could only assume that everything had changed back in Canada as well. Even still, I knew it was time to go back and see everyone again - I was as ready as I would ever be.

Saying goodbye to everyone in Hanmer Springs was difficult. It felt as though I was saying goodbye to home and my family all over again. Having been there over a year, Hanmer Springs has become home. And yet I did the deed and left. Driving away in my rental car, all I could think was that it would be my last day driving on the left side of the road for a while and that kind of freaked me out a bit. I only hoped that things would be okay upon my arrival.

In Christchurch I found a place to stay and tried to fall asleep at 5pm. Naturally, this didn't happen and so I tossed and turned until nearly midnight before my mind finally shut off and I got a few hours sleep prior to being woken up by my alarm at 3am. It was time to go. Checking in at the airport and going through security was pretty standard - right down to my being chosen (as usual) for the "random" bomb check. I seriously need to figure out what it is about me that makes me look like an explosives carrier. 

Banff, Alberta

7am we left Christchurch on route to Sydney. After a quick breakkie and one showing of 21 Jump Street, we were there. Off the plane I went to go check-in for the next plane, sit and wait for boarding and then board. And again we went - only this time leaving 30 min later than we were meant to. I figured we'd catch up time in the air. Apparently not. During our 14hr flight to Vancouver, the captain didn't find time to speed up a little. Instead, he slowed down so that our arrival time was a full hour later than we were meant to arrive. Perfect. I had a mere 40 min to disembark, grab my luggage, go through customs, re-check in and board the next plane to Calgary. 

As that was an impossible feat in itself, I got put on standby for the next plane. Fortunately I got on - only my bag didn't which resulted in the first meeting with my sister in Calgary being one of total awkwardness as we waited for my bag to arrive at the baggage claim for what seemed to be an eternity before we concluded that it hadn't been on the same flight as me. Fortunately the airport would courier it to me later.

What followed my arrival to Calgary was none other than a series of surprise visits to family who had no idea I was in town. After a lengthy lunch date with my sister, we went to my mom's work to set up a coffee date between her and my sister. Only my mom didn't know I would be there too. When she showed up, it was like the world stopped spinning and nothing moved. And so it went.

Tears, smiles, exclamation of excitement - one by one I surprised all my loved ones. It was incredibly exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time. My dad was probably the best surprise as he and I had been planned a Skype date for that week and so he was busy eating dinner so he could be in front of the computer for our arranged time. The glitch came when my sister called to say she was in the area and asked if she could drop by. My dad greeted her at the door and proceeded to make small talk, all the while informing her that she may have to go as he had a Skype date with me. He was completely unaware that my sister had dropped me off down the street to walk up to his door and ring the doorbell. His automatic response to the ringing door was to demand what "they" could possibly want. He opened the door and was completely stunned to find me standing there. It was perfect.

As these emotional days have passed, I find myself settling into life back in Canada to a point where it almost makes me wonder if my life in New Zealand was even real. Things have changed. I have changed. Everyone has changed - and yet it still all the same as I left it 3 years ago. It's strange but oddly comforting just the same. 

Banff Springs Hotel

What has stunned me the most is probably the amount of stuff I had left behind so long ago. I had previously sold what I thought to be nearly all my possessions as I didn't know when I would return to Canada. However, upon returning, I have discovered that my previous notion of "all" my possessions really wasn't accurate. I began opening up boxes to find I have enough clothes for an army. I do believe I had a shopping problem. Fortunately for me, this means I no longer have to buy clothes for the next few years. I can finally say goodbye to my one pair of jeans I have been hanging onto in New Zealand and mending every they rip. 

Overall it's been a bit of a whirlwind to say the least, but it's good to be back. It's good to finally see familiar faces in person - not just on Skype. It's good to finally be in the same time zone as everyone else. It's good to be able to pick up the phone and call someone for a coffee date and know that it could actually happen. It's good to no longer be saying "I can't wait to come back" - I am back. For now. 

Drink FRESH Water

Drink FRESH water and as much water as you can.

~ Lululemon

Today the power went out. Again. For the second time in the past month, we had to stop everything we were doing and try to find a way to keep the camp running. Without power.

The last time this happened, it had just snowed. For 3 full days we battled the ups and downs of not having a regular supply of electricity - today we contemplated if our fate would be the same. Computers down and lights off, our staff at the camp set upon ensuring the generators were on and that all customers were aware of what was going on - not that we could particularly give them any answers. Being isolated at the end of Jollies Pass Road tends to do that to us. 

It was all because of a massively windy day that allowed us to be in the predicament. The wind gusts howled so much that it was difficult to even be able to move forward at points. The dark clouds rolled in and the rain started pelting - it was during this that the lights flickered for half a second before everything shut down, leaving me in darkness.

Today had been one of those days to which my list of things to accomplish by the end of shift never seemed to get any shorter. Anytime I sat down to complete a task, there was something more immediately important to deal with instead. Constantly distracted, I was relieved to find a few silent minutes in the office to myself to get things done. And then the power went off. 

As frustrating as it was to be yet again torn away from all that I wanted to do, the power being off only served to remind me of what is important in life. Not having electricity immediately forced everyone to check to see if everyone else was okay and if they weren't - what they needed to get comfortable. Blankets were handed out. Gas bottles for the BBQs given to ensure everyone got a decent evening meal. The Big Kitchen was opened so that customers could at least enjoy the warmth around a wood fire. 

Though the electricity being out somewhat complicated things - it also simplified things. Us staff and camp volunteers found ourselves congregating within Graeme & Sandy's house for a hot cup of tea as they had a gas stove. We quickly forgot about the wind and rain in exchange for a special moment of bonding. All of us - all 14 of us - sitting around in a living room enjoying each other's company. Laughing. Sharing stories. We contemplated plans for dinner - what would be a fabulous meal of eggs, bread, sausage and baked beans (apparently we were all low on groceries at the same time). We made plans for the evening - a possible game of Risk by headlamps was in the running. Things were good. 

The irony was that after an hour or so of no power, it came back on. We cheered and then immediately went back to whatever we were doing before the power went out. Back to work. Back to computers. Back to the music being played out of the iPod. Back to original dinners plans in each of our houses. Back to rugby on the TV. Back to reality. 

It got me thinking - why is it that we avoid what we know is good and important to value until we have to? Those that start eating healthy in order to lose weight begin to realize how great it feels to be making good food choices only to turn back to old habits once their target weight is reached. Those that go on a holiday realize how awesome it is to take the time to spend with loved ones only to avoid them at all costs when back in "normal" life. People exercise like mad all the while chugging back water because they know the benefits of water on their body only to finish their run and go our for a night of binge drinking. 

We are not so bad at the camp here. Generally speaking, the electricity is on and yet we still find time to sit around a table and share a meal. Get to know one another. We take the time to help each other out. We ignore the TV for an evening to play a board game instead. But why is it that it generally takes something like the electricity turning off for us to remember what is important in life? Maybe mother nature is giving us a little nudge to remind us to slow things down just a notch. Get back to the basics. Get back to what matters and forget the rest. Drink FRESH water and drink as much water as you can. Period.

Choose a Positive Thought

The conscious brain can only hold one thought at a time. Choose a positive thought.

~ Lululemon

Jess killed a possum yesterday. It was her second one. I'm not sure if I should be happy for her or not - she is in no way a hunting dog. The event of her killing an animal is more one of complete and utter accident as she generally can't even get within sniffing distance of a possum due to her lack of skills in the stealth attack department. Regardless, yesterday she managed to kill a possum.

We had been on route to town to pick up some groceries and hadn't gotten more than 50m from my home when she veered off into the deep snow towards the bush. I knew she was onto something as she refused to listen to me calling her back to where I was and so I stood on the side of the road and waiting. Within a minute or two I could hear a horrific scream coming from the possum as Jess got it in her mouth and started flinging it around. Jess doesn't quite clue into the fact that one must tear apart the animal you are trying to kill. She has only grasped the concept that one must get it in their mouth. As such, the death of the possum was a monumentally slow event to which I eventually got sick of standing on the side of the road listening to the possum's screams and lugged my way into the bush to drag Jess away.

It was just another day.

Kellie, Linda, me, Prajot & Graeme - first thing in the morning

I was glad of this fact as I walked my way into town. This past week has been nothing short of one big adventure to which none of us have known how it was going to end. It all started on Tuesday when the team at the camp put together our our first Bingo Bananza fundraiser - we didn't know what to expect and were pleasantly surprised to have more than just our staff show up to the event. After a night of playing Bingo and having a bit of fun, we were all stoked to have raised just over $130 - with any luck, our future Bingo nights during the winter will be even more successful. Our goal is to raise enough money to get a projector and projector screen for the Recreation Hall.

Anyway - that wasn't particularly where the adventure starts - it was that night. All throughout the day we had been hearing reports that there was going to be a massive dump of snow in Hanmer Springs - all the weather people were rather excited about it. But when we finished up Bingo Bananza that night and went outside, all there was was rain. None of us were really too sure that we'd actually see snow by morning - if anything we figured it'd just be another thick frost.

When I rolled out of bed the next morning, I had completely forgotten about the weather reports so when I went to let Jess outside for her morning pee and get some firewood to start the fire, I about fell over at the sight I saw. Everything was covered in over a foot of snow and it was still snowing. The air was as quiet as ever. It was a proper winter wonderland.

Before I could get back inside to start the fire, I could hear some rustling in the trees. I looked up to find that Linda & Prajot were on the other side of the fence with big grins on their faces. We decided to go out for a proper walk even though it was just after 6 AM. And so we went, bundled up and wearing gumboots - we took Jess out for a walk. By the time we got back, it was nearly 7 AM and so we knew everyone else would be awake. Within no time at all, we were all outside throwing snowballs, laughing and jumping around as the sun peaked its head up over the horizon. It was perfect.

Things started to get interesting after I got back to my place for a shower and to get ready for work. The lights started to flicker and before I could get my hair dried, the power went out. It was going to be a proper snow day.

My house hidden behind the snow

For the next three days, the camp became a hideout of snowy magic. All the staff, volunteers and the one group of customers made the Big Kitchen our home base as we cranked up the fire, brought in clothes horses to dry everything and spent our time exploring the snow-covered wilderness and getting warmed up inside. The board games, crafts, Bingo and drawings came out as we whittled away at the hours. Meals became a group event as we cooked on the fireplace, drank tea/coffee and laughed the days away. Snowmen were made, snowballs thrown and many tracks were carved out with our shovels. By the end of the third day we managed to get our power back for good and sort out the phone as well (mobile services and land lines were down as well). As the camp is located at the end of the road, we couldn't have felt more isolated. It was another world.

Everyone pitching in to clear the snow

Stocking up for food was an event in itself as a handful of people would get geared up with packs and got tramping into town - the snow was up to our knees in parts. We couldn't clear the driveway and so stocking up for wood was done by pulling a tarp by rope with the pile of wood stacked on it.  We avoided walking under the trees as the branches continued to break and fall off under the weight of the snow. Life slowed down to a halt and we learned to enjoy each others company and live in the moment. We cheered when the electricity would come on and became innovative in figuring out how to dry hair in the morning (by the fire works fine). Frozen food was stored in the snow as the electricity was off and we discussed our preferences in clothing types to wear in the cold. Gumboots were worn at all times with plastic bags over our feet to prevent snow getting them wet.

By the end of Friday, everything was slowly coming back to normal again as we managed to get everything sorted enough for customers to be able to get into the camp for the weekend. Surprisingly, they came despite our warnings of sketchy power, limited hot water and incredibly icy roads. Aside from our photographic evidence of the main event, it seems as though it never happened.

And now that life is returning to normal again, I can focus on other things - such as my book. I have gotten my proof back of my book cover and I'm ecstatic at the end result. It has only signified the reality that my book will soon be published and I am stoked to almost be done it. With any luck, by the end of the month, it will be available for purchase in eBook format and print. So excited!!

Do Not Use Cleaning Chemicals

Do not use cleaning chemicals on your kitchen counters. Someone will inevitably make a sandwich on your counter.

 ~ Lululemon

I find it fascinating to see how the world around us is changing. Changing to become more green. To become more conscious of the decision we make on a daily basis and how they affect both the people around us and the world we live in. At the camp we have switched to a chemical-free cleaning system. When you get to the bottom of the scientific reasoning, the bottom line simply states that it makes sense. Why wouldn't you want to cut out chemicals? Think of all the warning labels on those multiple bottles stored under your kitchen sink. Those that say you can only dispose of the remains in a certain way. Those that say you must wear protective clothing to avoid touching that said chemical. Those that say not to swallow or don't get in your eyes. Those that say you must call a certain number should anything go wrong. 

And so chemical-free we have gone. The camp switched to Enjo cleaning products nearly 6 months ago and it has made a world of a difference. No longer are we spending heaps of money on chemicals, but the place is actually cleaner for it (think of all those times you have to "clean up" what you just cleaned simply because the chemical residue is still present on the surface) - the comments are coming in of how fabulous the place looks and we are even getting questions as to what we use. Funny that we're simply a forestry camp that deals with schools year round and yet we have some sort of impressive cleaning system.

That impressive cleaning system is just what I had to use today. As we have hit a natural transition faze in our volunteer model, today we had no volunteers to do the normal tasks to help the camp run properly. As per my job description, the tasks then fell upon my shoulders to complete. So today I had the brilliant job of cleaning toilets. It wasn't so bad - at least I didn't have to wear gloves due to the chemicals being used and it didn't. That and it's not like I've been doing it day-in, day-out to be bored of it. Even still, it brought back memories of when I first arrived at the camp and I was doing all the cleaning. Back in the day when I just thought I would stay a couple months to save enough money to be able to move on. Back in the day when I lived in a Forestry Cabin and was the only person allocated to do the cleaning on a daily basis. Back in the day when I was still labelled as a "backpacker."

Calgary, Alberta, Canada

Times have changed quite significantly since I was a cleaner for the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp. Not only have I moved out of cabin B1 to a proper house (though the insulation leaves nothing to be desired), but my entire position at the camp has changed. There is something to be said about being in a position where I feel completely exhilarated to come to work every single day. Sure - I work at a campground, but the Hanmer Springs Forest Camp isn't just any campground. There is so much depth and history and potential to it that it could keep me going for many years to come. 

Essentially, all my thinking of the past has brought me to where I am at today. As the Volunteer & Fundraising Coordinator of the camp, I have been set with the task of implementing a steady stream of income through donations, fundraising and funding that the camp has otherwise not had since it opened its doors in 1978. And now it has nearly come. I have been putting together plans for an annual Art & Film Festival to occur in January 2013 that should the remaining sponsors get on board - will be not only the biggest event the camp has ever had, but the biggest event of Hanmer Springs. Complete with Art Stalls, Workshops, Silent Auction, Entertainment, a free Kids Zone, Food and an Open-Air Cinema, there will be something for people of all ages. And I can't wait for it to happen.

There is something to be said about planning an event that will bring in more money for the camp than what I will make in an entire year - it's brilliant to be part of something that has a vision. Has potential. Has direction. And who knows - maybe by putting in my two cents in the next couple of years I will be able to help the camp develop opportunities for underprivileged children to go to camp for a week. Maybe I will be able to help the camp upgrade some of its facilities. Maybe I will be able to help the camp generate enough funds to develop new programs. Maybe I will help the camp become all that it is meant to be. 

Hanmer Springs, Canterbury, New Zealand

In the meantime I find I am torn between being excited about my career prospects in what I am doing here in Hanmer Springs and trying not to lose touch with loved ones back in Canada. It's not easy being here, living day-by-day, knowing that those I love to pieces are on the other side of the world and that I'm missing out on their lives as much as their missing out on mine. As much as I know that I am were I am meant to be, I struggle with the guilt of knowing that I have chosen to be where I am. Is there ever a right choice between choosing to do what you love and be with those you love?

As it is, I find as the days tick on, I continue to look forward to going back to Canada for a visit. It has been long enough and I find each day that goes by I am more aware of all that I am missing out back in Canada. It is not that I want to go back to live there - it is that I know the more time that goes on, the more I am distancing myself from all that I once was. 

All that I can focus on is the fact that I have booked my flights. It will be awesome to see everyone that I have not seen for nearly 3 years now. It will be great to hug those I have not been able to for so long and finally sit down for a proper coffee within the same time zone and catch up. I can't wait to see how Calgary has changed in the past 3 years as much as I can't wait to see my best friend, Janelle, get married. There is so much about "home" that I have forgotten about - things such as stores being open 24/7, slurpees, and the ability to say aluminum foil without being laughed at (those that have traveled from North America know what I am talking about). I can't even remember what good TV is like, nor the feeling of driving down a proper "motorway" (the one into Christchurch is 2 lanes wide and 10km long). There is so much of Canadian/North American culture that I have not been a part of for so long that as excited as I am to go back - it also freaks the crap out of me. 

Even still, none of it matters as it is the people I plan to see that matters most. So much has changed in the last few years that it seems absurd to think that things can pick up where they have left off. It's difficult to know what will happen when I step off that plan at the Calgary airport, but I know one thing is for sure - I will be damn happy to be able to buy mascara for less than $20!

Stress is Related to 99% of all Illness

Stress is related to 99% of all illness.

~ Lululemon

It finally caught up to me. The stress of the last couple months has been slowly building towards a climactic finish – one that I should have seen coming. No, scratch that – I DID see it coming – I just chose to ignore it all. I figured that maybe if I could just hang on one more week. One more day – things would all work out. Things have worked out, just not me. I can officially say I am sick.

It happened this past Tuesday as I was sitting in reception, going over some email enquiries for the camp. As I sat there trying to decipher the newest message of gibber-gabber, I could feel the sickness overtake me. All of a sudden my head started to pound, as a sudden increase in perceived weight made me feel as though I had a bowling ball attached to my shoulders. All my muscles seized up and within an hour I had trouble focusing on the computer screen and my throat felt as though some animal had just come and scratched up the inside. The sickness had come for me and there was nothing I could do but sit there and watch.

And so now, on my days off, I sit here tending to myself with fluids, rest and a roll of toilet paper for my nose as I contemplate the going ons that have brought me to this point today. I can’t say I am particularly surprised to be in this position. The last two months have been a complete 3-ring circus of happenings – some of which have made me want to pinch myself to confirm I haven’t been dreaming it up.

Our new team with our Macpac Sponsored jackets

Kellie and Duncan, the new camp managers, have arrived and are quickly settling in – not so much due to the ease of transition, but more from the fact that they were simply handed the reins and told to jump right in. Their first weeks of being managers at the camp have included nearly every disaster scenario that could possibly happen, short of the entire camp burning down. Between trying to figure out (and then catch up on) the accounts, learning our ridiculous paper-format booking system, dealing with a group booking that decided to turn the camp into their near-rave party, handling a school of mischievous children and just generally trying to run the camp – it’s been a busy few weeks.

The most interesting bit that they (and the rest of us as staff) have had to deal with is a few rogue volunteers. We had welcomed a couple of backpackers with open arms two weeks ago to come and help us out in exchange for accommodation. None of us had any warm fuzzy feelings about these two, but couldn’t put our finger on what it was to feel confident that we should kick them out. And so we all kept our eye on them, the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right building up throughout the week. By the end of the week, us as staff had a sit-down and discussed our issues with the two newbies. Every issue seemed insignificant on its own, but when we added all our complaints together, we were happy with the decision to get rid of them the following day.

That day came and while we were waiting for them to start their shift, Kellie and I decided to snoop around their cabin to confirm our suspicions that they were smoking there after being told not to. It wasn’t difficult to find the multiple cigarette butts lying all around the cabin, but what peaked our interest was the open window with their cabin key lying on the window ledge. Seeming a bit strange, we peaked our heads in, only to find that there wasn’t a scrap of personal belongings left in the cabin. The two had buggered off.

Originally we had been told they had planned to meet someone in town for breakfast that day before coming to help out the camp. As such, they had used the camp’s bikes – but having seen the empty cabin, we immediately knew that they had not just taken off; they had taken off with our bikes. Kellie and I immediately went on the hunt for them in town, on the off chance that they were still around. With no luck finding them or the bikes, we stopped off at the police station to file a report.

Back at the camp, a few hours later and still fuming about being duped by a couple of volunteers, the cop we had talked to gave us a call. Apparently the two people we had let stay with us were quite well-known with the police and had a few warrants for their arrest. Perfect.

It wasn’t until the next day that we heard news that the police had found our two outlaws holed up in Greymouth. To top it off, one of them admitted the location of where they dumped the bikes and so we were able to get those back as well. Had they not stolen the bikes, they probably would have still been on the run without the cops behind them.

Needless to say, it was a good learning experience for all of us. Up until this point, we had relied on the fact that all international volunteers with a working holiday visa would already have a police check done to be able to get in New Zealand. It was the Kiwis that we hadn’t quite figured out what to do. Since this incident, we have tightened up on our recruiting process by implementing a mandatory Police Vetting check on all local volunteers, just to ensure we don’t have a repeat incident. In this case, we were lucky it was only our bikes that were stolen.

Linda & Prajot

Not all happenings at the camp have been bad though. Linda, another one of our volunteers, and Prajot (Activity Hanmer) have recently gotten married. It was a brilliant wedding and celebration of two people who are made to spend their lives together and we were all excited to be a part of it. Getting married in the forest and then with the celebrations back at the camp – I felt priviledged to be able to be the photographer for their big day.

As well, I have been able to help out with two big races in Hanmer Springs, learning more about event management as I go – which has in turn helped me with planning the big fundraiser for the camp next January. As exhausting as it has been, it has been incredibly fascinating to learn what works and what doesn't in the world of events. With any luck I’ll be able to soak all the info up and use it in my future plans.

I suppose the latest news has been with Lucy. I have finally been able to take Lucy to the vet to get fixed, which will allow her to go outside more without me worrying about the potential of little cat-babies running around. Plus, I can make her an outside cat and no longer need to use a litterbox. All went relatively smooth until I got a call from the vet about to do the surgery who informed me that Lucy was in fact a boy. Shows how much I know. The only comfort I received was that apparently it happens quite frequently because kittens are hard to tell the sex. Go figure.

The rest of the day I spent mulling over new cat names as I figured keeping the name “Lucy” with a pink collar was a bit much. So I came up with Kaeto, naming him after the character in Pink Panther. It works – so aside from my poor cat going from a girl to a boy to an “it” all in one day, he is recovering quite well. I only wish I could say the same.

Everything hurts and my nose is running a marathon today. With any luck it’s all just a sign of everything settling down into a sense of normalcy for a while. Fingers crossed this next week is stress free.

Listen, Listen, Listen

Listen, listen, listen and then ask strategic questions.

~ Lululemon

So I've listened. For the past year or so I have strained my ears to hear the comments of the local Kiwis and I concluded that there has been barely a peep of protest from them. I don' get it. Everyone appears to be rather content with their lives and homes just the way they are with no one significantly making progress to change. Perhaps I've just been hanging around people that have newer houses.

For a while there I was starting to think that it was just me. Or maybe, the effects of everything weren't as bad as what I anticipated them to be. That thought came crashing down today when I got my monthly statement from the electricity company only to find that in the last 30 days my usage for electricity appears to have skyrocketed. Perfect. It was just what I had feared.

Obviously I anticipated some sort of increase in my electricity bill now that we have entered Autumn and Winter is on the horizon. The days are cooler and the nights are frosty - it's all well and lovely until my house enters the equations. True to Kiwi-style, my house was built with the classic "she'll be alright" mentality. There are visible gaps around the outside doors that let a continuous stream of warmish-air out while the cold air fights its way in. Many of the windows to entirely close all the way - again, the airflow is constant. There is only single-pane glass on all windows and the only insulation to speak of that I know about is what has been slapped up in the ceiling space, all loosely lying there for the mice to build their homes.

Heating? Well, forget the classic central heating system that I am used to from Canada. There is a wood burner and as nice as it is to sit in front of the fire each night (I frequently am within an arm's reach away), it takes nearly half a day before it is able to heat the entire house to a level that my feet don't feel numb. The only way to speed up the heating process is to turn on a draft system built into the ceiling (apparently no one thought through the basic principle of heat - it rises - which makes it doubly difficult for the air to actually heat the room) to which the hot air from the wood burner is sucked through the ceiling and then blown out various faucets around my house.

This is the way of the Kiwi. And those that have discovered the simplicity of double-glazing and fitting doors/windows properly so there are no gaps are astounded at the amount of warmth that stays in the house (even at night!) and the fact that their energy bill is greatly decreased. There's actually commercials interviewing people on this. For the rest of us poor buggers who either have no idea of how life could be so much more warm and energy efficient or simply do not have enough money to upgrade their house, we continue to sit in our three layers of clothing (even though it's still +10 degrees outside) surrounding the wood burner as though it is our life source.

I vaguely remember the good old days back in Canada where my energy bill would be somewhere in the realm of $40/month over the coldest months - cold the Kiwi's here can't even begin to fathom and yet I was still able to keep the lights on all day and was toasty warm in my little flat. Here? I sit in the dark to save electricity, pile on the clothes and turn off every electrical outlet I possibly can just to save energy. And yet my bill has still hit the $90 mark. Brilliant.

Sure, my energy bill has still yet to see the effects of me getting rid of my TV and such, but I reckon winter is still going to be a time of reading books by the light of the fire as I burn through yet another forest of trees trying to keep the house warm enough to not be catching a cold every other week.

Maybe one day Kiwis will catch onto the idea that if they built their houses to suit all weather to begin with, they'd end up saving a heap of money, time and effort. They would no longer need a gas or electric heater in every room. They would no longer need to "prepare for winter" by purchasing an electric blanket for every bed (yes, they still use those here) -- there would be no need for the hot water bottles or insulated window curtains (no lies). People would be able to sit inside their homes comfortably without having the wood fire going full blast 24/7. They would rest assured that their electric bill would be a reasonable and affordable amount to pay each month.

In the meantime, I will sit huddled up in my house built back in the 1950s (or whenever) and try to stay warm as I think of how I can possibly cut down even further on my electricity bill in the future - there IS only me here. It seems ridiculous to be spending that amount of money on a bill - I might as well be letting my money fly through the gap under my front door along with all the hot air.

Observe a Plant Before and After Watering

Observe a plant before and after watering and relate these benefits to your body and brain.

~ Lululemon

I did the deed. I got rid of my TV. Crazy - I know. in this day in age where everyone is aiming for the biggest TV they can possibly fit on their living room wall with the picture so clear it is as though you are there in the show - it seems absurd to not want one at all. For one thing - what does all the living room furniture point at if not a TV?

Regardless - I got rid of mine. Not like it was much of a TV to begin with. It was pretty old-school, so small I found myself curled up on the floor in front of it just so I could see what was going on. And the picture - well, it wasn't so horrible, but it was as though someone had bumped the side of the screen, causing whatever program I watched to be squished over to the right which meant I constantly had to guess what was going on at that side of the screen. So no big loss there.

But without a TV - what do I do with myself? Pretty much whatever I want. Quite frankly, I was getting annoyed with myself as I was developing certain couch potato qualities I never thought I would have. When I finished work for the day, it seemed easier to just turn on the TV and eat my food in front of it. Mind-numbing. Comforting. Waste of time.

Everyday would be the same and everyday as I watched the latest episodes of crappy shows I didn't really want to watch, I would make lists in my head of all the things I wanted to accomplish with my time - things I wasn't particularly doing right then. Things I would do "tomorrow." As days slipped by and became weeks, I noticed my answers to peoples questions of what's new with me would become more and more dull - quite simply because nothing had been happening with me. It was all happening in my TV screen.

I never much wanted a TV when I got my own place, but figured it was the socially acceptable thing to do as that's what people expect to be entertained by when they come for a visit right? A scary thought to have to think up other things to do when I have visitors. Things like having a normal conversation. Playing cards. Going outside. Cooking.

And so the TV is gone. I won't lie - the first few days were hard - but it made it easier to know I no longer had the option of bringing it back. It was gone. At first I didn't know what to do with myself and ended up sitting in a chair staring at my wall while I thought of all the things I "should" do, but couldn't really bring myself to do them. And then one day it clicked.

I started reading again. My house is cleaner than it ever has been. I finally finished writing my book about Te Araroa Trail (not-yet-published). I am more focused at work. I actually taste what I make for dinner and am trying new recipes just for fun. I go on longer walks. I spend more time with friends. With Jess & Lucy. Tonight I even learned how to cut myself a fringe (bangs) and did it because I could.

My furniture is still the same way it was with a TV, but I no longer notice the whole it left - instead I notice the changing colors of the leaves outside the windows or the big stack of books I want to read again. I still watch movies (on my laptop) and go on the internet. I'm not completely going back to the dark ages. But I do think that getting rid of my TV was the best thing I could have ever done. It wasn't a necessity - it was actually becoming a hindrance to the life I wanted to lead.

So who knows - maybe one day I will get myself a new TV, maybe not. But right now I intend to enjoy life for what it is and maybe just take a minute to observe a plant before and after watering. Just because I can.

Friends Are More Important Than Money

Friends are more important than money.

~ Lululemon

There may have been some rumours floating around - I am here to tell you they are true. I can officially say that I am coming back to Canada for a visit. Not until November, but still. It is time. It has been nearly three years since I was last in my hometown of Calgary and though it seems like I just left yesterday - it has been way too long.

I have been planning to come back for some time and wanted to do it as a surprise, but when my close friend, Janelle, informed me of her wedding plans for November - my plans were made for me. I would be coming back then. I don't know how long I will stay, but I hope to see everyone again. It's a scary thought, really. Sure - in a lot of ways I will feel as though I am coming "home," but in so many other ways it will feel as though I have travelled to a completely foreign country.

For the past three years I have met so many different people, eaten so much different food and explored so many different places, that it's hard to fathom what life would be like if I went back to Canada. Sure, I still remember, but that was also nearly 3 years ago - a lot has changed. In me. In my friends & family. In Canada. I, for one, refuse to eat orange cheese - regardless if it is in a tube, spray can, jar or in solid form. I no longer have a phobia of eating a meat-free diet and I worry over the thought of not being able to find pumpkin or beetroot (beets) to add to nearly everything I make. Not to mention driving.

I have been gone for so long that I now drive on the left side of the road in my dreams. It seems weird to watch people drive on the right side of the road in movies and I wonder if my brain will survive the huge adjustment when I am back in Canada.

There are many other adjustments I have to mentally prepare myself for in planning a visit back to Canada. Things like the fact that there are actually dangerous animals to consider when going to the bush. Things like the fact that people say "garbage" instead of "rubbish," "tom-A-to" instead of "tom-AH-to" and "to-go" instead of "takeaway." Things like the fact that people actually care about fashion. And money. And things. Things like the fact that television series are up to 5 years ahead of what we watch here in New Zealand - and that ANY television show will be 100x flashier than what I have become accustomed to in NZ. Canadians will have insulation in all buildings and electrical outlets OUTSIDE their houses (to plug in their cars) and generally make a big deal out of how everything is cheaper in the States. At least one can drive there on the weekend to pick up what they want.

That all said, there will be things I miss of NZ as well. I am not sure how well I will be able to handle all the people in Canada. Going from a town of 1000 locals of which I live on the outskirts in the middle of a forest to a city of a million plus is going to cause a bit of anxiety. It will seem strange to think that places won't close at 5pm so all the workers can get home to their families. It will also seem weird to know that though I am going "home" - I am not really as NZ is currently my home.

There are a lot of things that will be weird - scary even - but most of all I am excited to be able to see everyone I love in person again. To be able to hug people in real life and not be confined to Skype. To be able to book in coffee dates where I am existing on the same day as the person I am chatting to (generally I am a day ahead any time I talk to people in Canada due to the time difference). There are heaps things I can't wait to do - heaps of people I want to see and most of all - I am excited that because I am coming back for Janelle's wedding, I get to share my excitement with everyone else. I don't know if I would have survived having to keep things a surprise otherwise.

So - until next time, I can't wait - for everything! Fingers crossed November comes soon enough!

Children are the Orgasms of Life

Children are the orgasm of life. Just as you did not know what an orgasm was before you had one, nature does not let you know how great children are until you actually have them.

~ Lululemon

Sure – I don’t exactly have any children right at this present time, but I find that I am beginning to realize what having a child might be like. Over the past few weeks my life has been altered slightly due to adopting Lucy, the kitten I found in the tree a bit ago. I now have to budget in cat food and kitty litter. My daily schedule revolves around her needs of when she needs to be fed, petted and played with. All of a sudden I have become much more aware of where I put my things in order to avoid certain possessions being knocked over, chewed on or completely broken beyond repair. My concentration on tasks is minimal as Lucy has become a constant fur ball of distractions that keeps me entertained from the moment I wake to when I go to sleep at night.

Lucy - my paper bag princess

And then there is Jess. In a way, it has been easy as in the past month or so Jess has adopted me as another caregiver other than Steve & Lynne. She has always seemed to enjoy me taking her on runs, but in the past few weeks she has taken on the new behavior of jumping the fence to come to sit at my back door and wait to be let in. Made things a bit frantic at work when we suddenly realized Jess was gone from the backyard and was nowhere to be seen. Wasn’t until I got home for lunch that I had realized what she had done.

The interesting bit was introducing Jess and Lucy. Lucy was curious and wanted to play. Jess was petrified at this black fur ball that was batting its paws at her face. It took a bit of coaxing and patience and now the two are near inseparable, playing together whenever they can. We have had many play-dates where they chase each other around the house and even play wrestle.

Jess after destroying a stuffed toy

But all that has changed with my newest addition of Noushka. Noushka is an Alaskan Malamute who's owner has had the opportunity of a lifetime to go and do guiding for climbers on Mt. Everest. So he is going to be gone for the next few months and asked me to babysit - I said yes. 

All was well in getting to know Noushka and her getting to know me - but that is where it has ended. It has quickly become apparent that Noushka does not do well around strangers, small animals, lots of kids, big animals and pretty well anything in between. Constantly feeling the need to prove she is the alpha dog around the place, she has taken the tendency to growl and bark at anyone that comes near my house. Not exactly ideal when my house is on the camp property. 

Things are even worse when Activity Hanmer does one of their activities out front of my house as Noushka has taken this as an opportunity to howl, cry, bark and growl for the full 2hrs they are out there. The worst bit is that I can't seem to figure out how to teach her that that is not okay as she immediately stops the behavior when she sees me around. 

And then there's the animals. Since being with me for a little over a week, she has already seriously tried to eat Lucy twice. I've even tried to introduce her to Jess with no success. Noushka has taken her on as fresh meat without even as much as a how-do-you-do. 

Noushka at the top of Mt. Isobel

It's saddening really - it's not as though it is Noushka's fault as she just simply hasn't been trained to know better. So it's become this tricky juggling act to figure out how to spend time with all three animals but in environments where none of them are feeling threatened by Noushka's behavior. But the reality is that I can't live like that in the long term - and either can the camp - so we'll see what happens.

All I want is the best quality of life for Noushka and to me that does not mean tying her up 24/7 with a muzzle on. She deserves better than that and I hope there is some spectacular way of figuring out how to get her that. And as all good things take time I just don't know how much time I have before she simply HAS to go. 

Athletic-induced Endorphins Gives You the Power

A daily hit of athletic-induced endorphins gives you the power to make better decisions, helps you be at peace with yourself, and offsets stress.

~ Lululemon

Me at the top of Single Cone Mtn - December 27/11

New Year. New goals. New cat. New post. or at least that is how it feels anyway... that and I am a bit late at getting this whole "new post" thing done. Amazing how time slips through the fingers. Already the middle of January... or at least almost there - Friday the 13th it is. Spooky.


The first couple weeks of this new year of 2012 have started with a bang for me. Or technically speaking - not so much of a bang for me as I spent New Year's Eve curled up with a good book and ended up asleep by 8pm. So much for staying awake to bring in the New Year. Not that it mattered - the New Year came just the same (as it does every year) and I haven't quite figured out what the big deal is with the New Year representing new beginnings and such. The whole resolutions thing I haven't really bought into. I mean... by all means - if having a specific date each year to encourage people to reflect about their lives and put together a list of randomly vague goals to hopefully accomplish (and most don't) by the turn of the next year is what is needed to get people to improve upon themselves... then go for it. 


As far as I'm concerned - each and every day is an opportunity to better myself and create reachable goals for both the near and distant future. Such as running. Last time I wrote I talked of wanting to do a marathon (the person I was a year ago is still putting up a bit of a protest as to why I would want to do something so incredibly insane) and I am still working towards that goal. So much, in fact, that I have done some research for some races coming up and have found one for the beginning of May - t42 (http://www.t42.co.nz/). Taking on the form of New Zealand's iconic 42 Traverse track, racers will come to either run or bike the route. 


The 42 Traverse is part of the Te Araroa Trail, only this race will go from South to North as opposed to the other way that TAT takes trampers. As it happened when Alex and I were walking TAT, we ended up avoiding the 42 Traverse section and following the road. Partly because we were behind schedule. Partly because we wanted to get to Tongariro for Christmas. But mostly because we had had one of our worst weeks of bush walking in the rain and were a bit tired of it all. 


When I heard of the opportunity to go and run this section - I knew that was it. This is the marathon I am meant to do. Had my name written all over it. One of my co-workers heard of what I was aiming to do and she had a bit of a laugh at me and commented that it was a bit ridiculous that I don't just try to do a marathon - I pick one of the more difficult races to do. But hey - the way I see it - I got 4 more months of training and that is a hell of a lot more than what I gave myself to walk the length of New Zealand... and I still did that right? How hard could - 4-6hrs of running up and down mountain trails be? 


Anyway - my days have been filled with early morning run - watching the sun rise as I huff and puff my way through hill training or interval training or strength training. All the while my mind is more focused on the end result than it ever has been at anything else in my lifetime. I have never trained for anything before. I don't think practices for team sports back in High School quite make the cut. I figure if I have done all I have done in my lifetime, I can do this. And I will. I'm completely and utterly stoked. 


And so I broke through the New Year by falling asleep at 8pm only to wake just after 5am and crawl out of bed for a run. The air was so fresh and not a soul to be seen on the trails that day. It was a perfect way to start the New Year. 


A couple days later it was the same story, only as I was running along the road, I could hear a cat mewing from a tree. I didn't want to stop then as I had just begun my run, so I made the mental note to check it out on my way back if I still heard the noise. I did. I followed the noise to the tree only to find myself face-to-face with a blackish kitten that had clearly gotten itself stuck too high to jump back down. With no firemen to help me in sight, I stood at the bottom and tried to coax it down. Eventually it made the move and jumped into my outstretched arms and immediately began purring. I was hooked. 

As we were essentially in the middle of nowhere, there was no possible home nearby to take the kitten, so I took it to mine. And it hasn't left since. I have named her Lucy and haven't quite figured out how committed I am to keeping her as keeping her surely would mean long term responsibility -- something of which I am just not convinced I am ready to have. But in the meantime she stays. 


And so that is the extent of 2012 for me as of this date. Not much has happened outside of my daily runs and cat feeding. Work is as usual - work, but I am still loving it. Summer has finally decided to come around and I only hope that with it it will bring so much more adventure. 

Live Near the Ocean

Live near the ocean and inhale the pure salt air that flows over the water, Vancouver will do nicely.

~ Lululemon

Or live near the mountains and breathe in the fresh pure mountain air - I figure it works just as well. Or at least that's what I'm doing right now and it suits me just fine.

It hit me the other day while reading Stolen Time – a true story by Sunny Jacobs (American) in how she was sentenced to die for a crime she didn’t commit. I have the Goldfish Syndrome. Temporary, of course, but none the less – a very serious case of it. Sunny Jacobs had it when her appeal went through and her sentence was changed to life from death row and she found herself completely unaccustomed to the simple notion that she was allowed to go outside of her cell during the daytime hours without any particular reason at all. She no longer needed a guard to gain permission in leaving her cell – she could do so herself. And yet, the simple notion of expanding her space – to be able to stand just outside the door of her cell for five minutes at a time was an incredible feat in itself.

“Five minutes. I look at my watch to check the time. Stepping over the threshold and to the left, I press my back to the wall, sliding down into a squat, oriental-style, with my arms wrapped around myself. I settle in for the five interminable minutes that make my skin crawl and my teeth clench. It feels foetal. It feels like when the first amphibian crawled out of the sea. It reminds me of a goldfish that has lived its life in a small bowl and suddenly finds itself in a larger tank. It will still behave as if it had the original space around it. You get used to having a certain amount of space around you and anything more or less is a cause for discomfort” (Pg. 193, Jacobs).

And so here I am feeling very much the same in a completely different set of circumstances for I am definitely not living my life behind bars for a crime I did not commit and I most definitely have not been trying to adjust to my newfound “freedom” of being on a life sentence rather than death row. Nope – I have merely moved house. And just to clarify, by “move house” I actually mean I moved INTO a house.  It finally happened two weeks ago and I still feel as though I am living in a dream and am going to wake up any second.

Kaikoura - where mountains meet the sea

To go back a bit, the only reason I have the house is because a set of events went into motion a while back that resulted in Stu (Assistant Manager) and Geoff & Julie (Duty Managers) leaving the camp. Long story short and one very large emotional rollercoaster ride, Steve and Lynne have hired on a couple to act as the new Assistant Managers who will take over Geoff & Julie’s old house. Which left Stu’s house up for grabs. Enter me.

For the past month I have been counting down the days. I have been day dreaming about the possibility of being able to move into Stu’s house. I have drawn diagrams of how I would decorate the place. I have written lists of all the things I want to get to fill it. I have thought about what I want to plant in the garden and all the plans I would have to entertain those that came over. But never, in all my wildest dreams, did I actually believe I would get it. A part of me always believed that something would alter the course of events to result in me having to live in Cabin B1 a while longer yet. A part of me figured I would end up having to figure out how to convert a porta-cabin into an adequate accommodation unit for myself instead.

But as it were – nothing happened to alter the course of events and before I knew it (actually – that’s a lie – it seemed as though the day would never come) it was time for me to move in. I wish I could say it was bittersweet, to leave my beloved Cabin B1 behind, but it wasn’t. The morning of moving day I was up at 6:00 a.m. making sure everything was packed, ready to be moved and that my cabin was clean for the next tenant. Nearly 7 months in that box of a home and that was plenty long enough for me. Not to mention that before that it was a year living in a tent and before that was 2 months living in a van. Prior to the van was about 5 months sharing a flat with a guy I barely knew and was about to fall to bits and the only thing before that was a month jumping around hostels and 2 months living in a tent. Needless to say – I feel as though I have only been dreaming of the day I could become a “normal” person in the realm of accommodation – for what feels like forever.

The cat camp pretending it doesn't like being in the house

And that day has arrived. Or it did arrive and it really hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Hence the Goldfish Syndrome. I mean, really – what does one do in a house that includes a massive kitchen, living room with a fireplace, two bedrooms and a bathroom (with a bath)? The living room itself is about four times the size of my former cabin – so large that last night I shut all the internal doors so it felt as though the living room was my only living space and then I spent the night sleeping there. Not that there was anything wrong with that – something quite lovely about falling to sleep in front of a roaring fire.

But really, half my issue is that I literally have no furniture to my name. Moving in consisted of a few boxes of clothing and then “shopping” around all the storage facilities at the camp for any extra furniture lying around. I managed to scrounge enough to make my kitchen and living room look presentable, but with no bed to speak of the second bedroom has taken to being in an indefinite lock-down situation. And that’s just the beginning. Along with my own private outdoor patio overlooking the mountains, there is what Stu used to call the “Man Cave” which is really just an extension of the house that is the exact size of my old cabin. I figure if I ever get too overwhelmed with all the space, I’ll just go and sit in there for a while.

And then there’s the single-car garage for the car I do not possess, but upon doing a bit of searching inside I found a really cool vintage-looking mirror that I’ve brought inside to use for decoration. For where – I haven’t a clue. But at least it’s a start.

Finally, there’s the camp cat – Squeaky. Been with the camp for who knows how long, but the camp has kept Squeaky around to help kill off the mice and detour any other animals from overtaking the property. Stu used to feed it (no one knows if it’s a he or she), but with him gone, the responsibility falls on me. So now I have a house and a cat - though I am not entirely convinced that the cat I am feeding is Squeaky. I might have attracted a brand new mascott in all the changes that have been going on as of late. 

Not to mention that I have also been given a job with a proper title. All of a sudden I am starting to feel as though the pieces of my adult life are falling into place. And I don’t at all feel freaked out about it. Just the space. The endless copious amounts of space – THAT I can safely say I’m slightly freaked out about. I mean, the house has three entrances and I’ve spent the last two weeks simply making a point to change which one I come in or leave out of whenever I can. Just to figure out which one feels best. At this point the jury’s still out, but I have to say it’s sure nice to have the option.

My new home

But over and above the Goldfish Syndrome, I have come to realize that with this amazing opportunity to live in this house, I have been dumped with a heap of responsibility that I have only ever dreamed of but never had to partake in. As soon as the keys were in my hand I became fully aware of the fact that I now had to buy my own toilet paper and dish soap again. The electricity bill would be coming to me every month and I have the continuous expectation upon myself to ensure the place is neat and tidy. For if I don’t do it – who will? And then there’s the garden – of which I am both excited and terrified for. I have never had to take care of a garden before and I have distant memories of killing off a cactus when I was growing up that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. This property is so much more than a cactus. It’s mowing the lawns, trimming back bushes and weeding the garden. And that’s just the basic plants. There’s also the option of using the many spare car tires lying around for raised garden beds. But for what? That’s the million dollar question. What do I want to grown in there and how do I do it?

I try not to get too caught up in all the planning and such as I have come to realize that I simply do not have a million dollars to do everything instantaneously. It’s going to take a lot of time to get everything sorted the way I hope to do it and in the meantime there are many walls to wash and weeds to pick. Today I cleaned the gutters and mowed the lawn. At least I can’t complain of boredom in the next upcoming months.

Home sweet home.