Archive for September 2003

whistler weekend

L&M invited us up to Whistler with them this weekend. We drank beer, gin & tonics, and played boardgames until 1am. We walked down to Alta Lake in the dark and watched the stars. We took the gondola up Whistler mountain and hiked up the remaining 3 km to the top of Whistler mountain. We ate yummy bbq steaks, corn on the cob, and blueberry pancakes. We had a lovely weekend, and are too busy enjoying ourselves to write more here.
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the meet up …

We met up with Treefen and Monkey and Steve and Anna last night for sushi at the Clubhouse. We established that none of us are very photogenic and that I get tongue tied when faced with a whole bunch of people that I only kinda know.
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Alice Lake

“Footsteps and children squealing in the distance, echoing through the valley. The smells and sounds of a campfire, and somewhere someone unfolds a tarp.

A car glides past purring while Cory sets up the lantern. The sun is going down and the campground comes to life. Back from the beach, the park, the trails, everyone returns to their tents and trailers to make dinner and huddle into warm clothes for the night.”

We did not have a fire Saturday night, but stayed up playing crib by the light of the lantern. When we got home Sunday I was suprised to realize that all our clothes still smelled of smoke, the second-hand campfire smell of our neighbours. Cory claims it makes the apartment smell good, I’ve opened the windows and let our jackets and sleeping bags air out.
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on slugs and slime

I’d planned a lyrical entry about the many sounds in a campground, diligently written in my journal while Cory set up the lantern last night at our campsite at Alice Lake Provincial Park, just north of Squamish, BC. Further events of the evening have eclipsed that entry though, and instead we bring you the little known facts:

1) Kneeling on a slug, which somehow has managed to get inside your tent and onto your thermarest, will not kill the creature.

2) Kneeling on a slug will, however, leave a nasty, gooey, water insoluable spludge on the thermarest.

3) Using water to wash off the slime will instead make the slime mark grow bigger.

4) Touching a slug with his hands in the dark is enough to disgust even Cory.

I made up for the fact that I was secretly ever-so-thankful that it was Cory and not me who landed on the slug by attempting to clean off the thermarest when we got home today. The secret appears to be salt, which is dehydrating the slug slime slowly, and will hopefully remove enough of the slime that if, in the future, the thermarest gets rained on, slime will not spontaneously appear.

In truth, we’re very lucky it was Cory who had to deal with the sticky-snot. Had I landed on it in the dark, we would have been packing up the tent and driving home to Vancouver so I could sleep without nightmares, even if it was 10pm.
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all ages

The Weakerthans played an all-ages show last night at Mesa Luna, hundreds of teenagers filling the local salsa bar to the dismay of one older man who showed up ready to dance; we saw him complaining to the owner. I love all-ages shows when they’re not in crappy community halls with bad acoustics. The early start times (the set finished at 9:30), the sing-a-longs with the crowd, and the screaming adoration of the 17 year old girls all somehow heighten the experience. Us twenty-somes don’t care as much about anything, it’s nice to be reminded about how much angst and emotion I had, and even nicer to realize how much happier I am now.
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at a game

At the UBC Thunderbirds football game last friday. The shear number of players needed in a football game never fails to amaze me.
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a shiny new machine

“buy me a shiny new machine / that runs on lies and gasoline / and all the batteries we stole from smoke alarms ” – The Weakerthans
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family tree

Cory’s away for work this week and I’m at home alone. I’m so used to him being here that my days seem a little off, but I’m also capitalizing on the chance to sleep in late, eat when I’m hungry, and write Jen a letter while the house is my own. He was only gone about 12 hours before I’d made a shopping trip to roots and picked up a lovely pair of cords and two tees. I’m still a student, we’ll call it my back to school trip (think he’d buy that excuse?)

While we were in Toronto I found some old letters in a bible that used to belong to my paternal great great grandfather, Walter Arthur (b 1862, d 1893). I’m having a lovely time reading through them and trying to sort out the family tree, This bit’s from his brother to my g-g-auntie Tess:


Dear Theresa,
It was a great pleasure to receive your letter as I was afraid I had lost sight of you after all thse years, and glad you are married and I trust very happy.

Sorry to hear of Arthur’s decease (his brother?), I did not know.

I’m afraid I cannot do much to satisfy your brother Monty’s quest, as I cannot give any dates other than those of my own Father and Mother and brothers and do not think that will go far enough back to be much value; however, am giving them for what they are worth. …

With much love, your affec.
Uncle Harry.

G-g-Uncle Monty had decided to trace back the family tree but only got as far as Harry and the two generations before him. While Uncle Harry states that this may not be back far enough to be of any value to Monty, it’s of great value to me. I have the birthdays, places of birth, and dates of death for most of my g-g-g-uncles, my g-g-g-grandparents, and even pieces of information about their parents, who were born around the turn of the century, in 1800. Having these letters makes these people seem real, and I can’t help but wonder about what the generations before me would have been like.

On my mother’s side of the family, my g-g-grandmother was described as a dour presbyterian (by her own grandchildren) so perhaps I wouldn’t like them too much, and they’d no doubt be horrified with me. It’s interesting to contemplate how much family attitudes have changed with time.
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