I am staying with my father on the North Shore, and the air here is fresh and cool and clean.
I have little to do but make sure all of my stuff is in order. I have hiking boots - expensive things from a mountaineering store in Manhattan. I have a tent, which I should really inspect for holes. I have a small inflatable mattress, a sleeping bag, some warm clothes, some outdoorsy hiking things from Mountain Equipment Co-op, and a rain jacket that was donated to me by Lauren's mother. She words for Columbia. I have wool socks. I have toiletries, and a green plaid sweater and a pair of jeans for the day off. I have underwear, too. I think I have everything ready, save for a few pairs of gloves, which I will buy later.
I went over to my Mother's house, which is nearby, to look for some of my old planting gear. In her garage I found a large blue rubber-maid container that will be useful, but I can't locate my old bags and shovel. This is a drag, as i will now have to go and spend about two hundred dollars on some new ones. My mom has no idea what happened to them. I then find my old alarm clock: a tiny, grey thing with digital display I had picked up from a dollar store in Whitecourt, Alberta. I remember the light beeping sounds it made to wake me up those two previous summers. Surprisingly, the batteries are still working after nearly three years.
The winter is running late in the interior, and I have heard from my foreman-to-be that the majority of our blocks are either covered in snow or frozen, or both. Anyways, there is nothing to be done. My start date has been pushed back.
In other news, Lauren and I were on the CBC National last night, talking about Errol Morris' new film: "Standard Operating Procedure." We were approached outside of a screening for the Tribecca Film Festival the day before I left. The woman was blond and made-up and wearing a pink blazer, if memory serves me. She asked if she could ask us some questions, and I told them I was Canadian. The woman asked me what I thought about the film and I said it was 'troubling.' She asked what I thought was troubling about it and looked at me with a blank look, and I said 'torture.' She was taken aback a bit, and luckily, Lauren could feel it. She jumped in with a good sound bite about it. I can't recall what she said, because I was really charged up and trying really hard to be smart. It was pretty exciting, but they ended up cutting my words out of their report. Lauren is much better at being on television than I am.
My grandpa is a fisherman, and he was drifting off on his couch, as grandpas do, when he saw this: he took a picture with his digital camera (he is very savy) and sent it to all of the family.
Anyways, the costs of the plane re-scheduling make this a pretty big inconvenience, but that is how these things go.
Now leaving on Tuesday.