Thursday, 7 December 2006

Not happy: Travellin' mama has a sulk

“It’s not always going to be great but it’s always going to be worth it.’’ This is my new mantra, which I will repeat often and with great abandon when things get un-fun on this 5,000-km odyssey across Canada.

Lovely as it is here at Sioux Narrows Provincial Park, I’ve had a change of heart. Hit the wall, shall we say. Descended into unexplained foul-mood territory that I could blame on too much family togetherness, but I think the real problem is that we’ve slept in a tent for eight nights in a row now – so how the f*#! can we still be in Ontario? Have I gone mad? Surely pining for a bit of prairie to break up the trees-and-rocks-and-lakes thing is not normal.

And is it me or is it just plain dumb to put reading material in f&*@ing outhouses? With all that fear of falling in, the stink, the hovering, the covering (of mouth and nose) – all while trying to prop the door shut because for some reason there’s never a bloody lock – who’s got time for a quick read? Stumbling to the outhouse for a night-time poop is even worse: I’m like an extra in the Blair Witch Project, waving my flashlight around like a crazy person in hopes of distracting the wildlife. Add to that my fear that a bear will knock the whole rickety thing over with one swipe of his paw – leaving me horizontal, covered in everyone else’s poop and about to be his bedtime snack – and, well, you get the picture.

Holy shit. Where’s a Hilton when you need one?


Clintoris said...

Do you suppose that "everyone's poop" on you might the best defense against bears? They have such big noses...

Loving your tales, Travellin Mama


Holmzee said...

Reminds me of the old addage "I hope your chickens turn into Emus and kick your shit house down!" Me thinks that the reading material is perhaps for the seasoned long drop veteran who has mastered the technique of the one breath bowel evacuation. For the rookie brown bomber the reading material may simply be as a back up wiping resource in the event that you are not comfortable using "bush money" (the big furry fox leaf). Fear not sweet princess for I think you have a guardian angel (or rogue Kiwi) watching over you and your nocturnal forest endeavours. Fear not the poo staved bear who stumbles across your private shanty but instead beware the outhouse deviant who may lie in wait down the dark hole of stench. Eeewwwwwww!! Look forward to hearing more adventures to aid in my vicarious warm weather fantasies.

Nancy Harper said...

You boys should both be in this business.
thx for playing along!