Oh yeah, Life.

There really is a world beyond pricing used clothing, sorting hangers, and answering repetitive inquires.  No, we don't have a public washroom, and yes, we have a new manager, and no, I don't know when they are reopening the Burnside Store.   People? There's the drama of people quiting, being injured, being transfered, having boyfriends, and being sick.  There's the people that get on and off the bus, who smile, and sometimes, bravely, or more likely out of boredom, or some sort of  frivolous attraction venture to utter a few words.  They usually have to do with other buses, sleep, or - back to the little world, work.  There's the ironic connection between my boss and I, over the animals that I...love...   There's the quirkiness of coworkers - the way that a cart is a "boogy," and a conversation starter is "So, do you have a favourite colour or something?" and the times that I'm surprised when my name, rather than being followed by a "can I have your assistance up front," is a direction to a shadow puppet on the wall behind me.  "You looked lonely back there."

And I think to myself, I am lonely in here.  Work has been comsuming my time, my energy, even my dreams.  Who would have though hangers could be such a predicament?

Glimpses of the real world:

Today I went to Sydney's house for a barbeque.  After having a delicious dinner in her back yard, which, thankfully, was completely shaded by the time I got there just before 7, fearful of the 35 degree weather,  we decided to go for a swim.  I love the water.  I love the way it surrounds me, and holds me, and silences everything.  I love the way the light shines through it and gives it endless colour and refracts to alter reality, and sometimes paints it the same as the sky or the trees or the people.  I love the way the wind moves it, and how it can be still and how it can gently lap against itself and how it can crash against jagged rocks.  I love the way it smells. I love the way it dances.  

Sydney and I are laughing and we jump into the lake.  And for a split second, I panic.  I haven't been swimming for a year.  But my body needs air and forces me upwards.  I feel the water swirling my hair, I feel its softness on my arms and legs.  I feel the crispness rising to a perfect, refreshing cool as I come towards the surface.  I tilt my head up so my face comes up first.  The water streams off my face.  My hair clings to my head, shoulders, and back.  My eyes and lashes are wet, and I love how this makes the world look for just a moment.  I think my emotions are stronger with wet eyelashes.  (I think I might need to go to bed.)  I love how mischievously joyful the sound of splashing is.  I love the laughter.  I love the resistance of water swooshing around.  The effort it takes to move.  We swim and talk and play until the shade has reached our sunny spot, and we head back for land.   I love my friends!

~

On Sunday, when Tim was off at camp and mom was working, I convinced Dad to go for a hike.  I just wanted to see what the park just down the road was like.  Dad and I, and my additional four legs and tail got in the van and drove to Manuel Quimper park.  We weren't planning on being gone long - not long enough to need to bring a drink.  Not long enough to be warm from walking and not need a jacket.

Too bad I'm not very good at turning around.  We ascended into the hills, or mountains, or whatever you'd call them, which I'm sure just depends on where you're from.  Soon, the gravel road was branching off to other less traveled trails and narrow lightly trodden paths through bushes.  Some were marked by flagging tape, or sticks on the road - but none of the familiar signs that at most regional parks, direct visiters to lookouts, benches, or water.  We kept getting deeper into the woods, and farther up the mountain, and as our hopes began to rise for an actual place to say we hiked to, our turn around point was pushed later and later.  About 10 minutes before the time we'd decided to turn around no matter what, unless of course, we were still going up hill, we came across another hiker.  We hadn't seen anybody for over and hour, and we were alerted to his company by a bear bell - meaning he can't have been just a little in front of us for that long.  He said we were over 10 km in (though, we dont think he came from the same spot as us), and that he was trying to find Crabapple Lake.  After some small talk, we came to a fork in our road, and, as it was the only reason we were going to keep going, we parted ways in favour of the uphill path.  We were going to turn around, seriously no matter what, at 5:17, two hours after we began.  At this point, my "what if we find out we were just 5 minutes away from something wonderful" argument, was to stop working, as we needed to be out before dark, before our feet fell off, before we became faint from hunger and thirst, and, most importantly, before the dog ran out of energy.   At 5:15, we were surprised to see the sparkling blue of water.  Encountering a Lake with no signs, no people, and no buildings of any kind was amazing.  I wonder what Sooke, or Ottawa, or Edmonton, looked like before highways and houses.  I could hear only my dad's voice, the water, the wind, and the birds.  This, I thought, is beautiful.

I might have been going a little insane by the time we got back to the Van two hours later.  I don't want to go for a walk on a gravel road again anytime soon.  And next time, I will listen to my instinct, not my dad, and bring water.   So much for taking a relaxing day off!

~

July 2nd, my family was celebrating Grandma Helen and Grandpa Merv's 50th wedding anniversary along with many of their friends.  Among the conversation, the music, the story telling, and the gift giving, was an incredible period of reflection.  What a journey they've had together!  And not just because I'm sure at some point they'll read this, I want to share how proud and honoured I feel to be their granddaughter!

~

So that's my life.  I'm working, saving some money, and missing my friends - from school, and from home.    Now it's time to sleep, so that I can go back to the more consistent of my worlds, for one more day, and then it's the weekend.  What adventures shall come then? Hopefully tackling my embarrassingly disastrous bedroom, and being sill with some wonderful people.

My somewhat fake summery, relaxed self says:

Peace out!

PS- Here are some pictures that should have been with my last post, taken of the Snowbirds during the Navy Centennial in Esquimalt.