Mike's Camping Trip

Mike was like a little 8 year old boy in the days leading up to his big camping trip at Algonquin Park last week. To be fair it had been a number of years since he'd been on a proper camping trip and this time it was going to be 6 guys, 4 days, canoe and portage and all. (The word "portage" and various conjugations thereof always makes me giggle, can you get more Canadian than that?)

He was so excited and stressed out when he was packing and getting ready on Wednesday that I hadn't dared to say "Sweetie, you know it's just a camping trip, right?" for fear of getting snapped at. At one point I might have slipped and said something like "Everything is going to be OK" and he'd gone on to explain that they were going to be in the wilderness for four days and anything could happen. Steve gave him an extra "bear bell" to protect him from those gigantic black bears (see insert above right) roaming in Algonquin Park. (For those of you who are unfamiliar with a "bear bell", it's a minuscule version of the cow bell which at first sight, seems like it would be entirely useless in scaring a bear away, but then upon further inquisition, you learn that it's actually meant to alert the bear to your nearing presence so that he doesn't feel like you're sneaking up on him and respond accordingly.)

The next morning they took off at 5:30am and I didn't hear from him for four days (there's no signal in the wilderness, duh). It all of a sudden dawned on me that I wasn't going to see him at all for four days (we spend too much time together, you see), and I got all sad and lonely for about 10 minutes as he was leaving. Then I got over it.

I am an expert at finding things to do. I always manage quite well to keep myself occupied. I think it's a blessing; I know so many people who would get so bored and tear their hair out if they weren't working or constantly doing something yet my days pass without me even trying. I've been cursed with list-making: I have this near obsessive-compulsiveness with starting every day with a list of things to do and sometimes I can't fall asleep without writing bits down the night before. I also suffer from putting-way-too-many-things-on-my-list syndrome. I remember Mike gawking at me on my first day of unemployment when I'd scribbled down two pages, front and back, of "stuff" I had to do in the coming weeks. When I don't really have to get anything done, I only manage to cross a few items off the list; when I'm having an extremely efficient day and manage to cross everything off, I get a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction only a fellow list-making geek would understand.

So while Mike was away, I--cleaned and tidied the place, started this blog, puttered away on Twitter (I'd given up on trying to figure it out a couple of years back but decided to give it another chance), went through my e-mails, met with the property manager to discuss July's community newsletter for our condo (I am the Newsletter Editor-in-Chief with a masthead of me, myself, and I), wrote and designed the newsletter and began its Chinese translation, and pulled a couple of all-nighters reading The Time Traveler's Wife (pretty good, the concept wasn't as silly as I thought it would be, but still confusing at times--haha, get it, "at times"? No you probably wouldn't get it unless you'd read the book--and I think the biggest novel I'd read since the Gone with the Wind sequel several years ago).

Then I got a text alerting me to the fact that four days had passed and saying the boys were on their way home. They arrived just after 6pm Sunday night, looking exhausted, weak, tanned, and greasy. I made the mistake of hugging two of them. Mike said, "The place looks really clean," and I said, "Of course." I continued working away at my stuff while he unpacked and showered. Then he told me camp stories while struggling to stay awake.

Here are some great photos from the boys' camping adventure:

This photo made me laugh, because they were all standing so properly like they're in an elementary school class photo or something. They all sort of systematically angled themselves towards the centre. Hilarious.

So I guess that sums up the weekend. Tomorrow is the last day of June and we're spending the evening at the Steve Miller Band concert over at the Molson Amphitheatre then it's Canada Day on Thursday and I'm thinking that all-you-can-eat-sushi would be a great way to celebrate the country's 143rd birthday. Friday morning I have a facial/mani/pedi at Holts Spa (ooh la la), a sweet gift from Candice for revamping her condo back in April, and Saturday we're going to Bev & Ty's wedding at the lovely Ancaster Old Mill. Stay tuned!