no running water

It didn't happen on purpose. We didn't seek out housing that lacked something so fundamental as running water because we were trying to save the world or the whales or the whatevers. This is just how things worked out and I am glad it did because it means we don't live downtown, it means our front yard is a field of horses, followed by a line of trees, followed by a slope, followed by another field of horses, followed by more trees and then the river and then, wait for it, MOUNTAINS!

For example: Early this morning I was outside and I noticed a single line of footprints in the snow. On closer inspection, Squanch attributed them to a fox. This fox makes up the bulk of the traffic in front of our cabin for the last week. Of course there are Raven's in our airspace, they heckle us from time to time, but I can deal with that.

Life without running water. RADICAL Eh? Apparently. It's one of the first things that came up when the issue of a certain neglected northern reserve close to a diamond mine was in the daily news. "How do they live? How deplorable for the government to let them live like that!" I have never been to this reserve, and I don't mean to belittle the issue, but whenever I heard mention of the no running water detail my first thought was: "Big deal."

Because it really isn't a big deal for us. Of course this is only because there are many places we can go to acquire free, clean, safe water.

• BLUE JUGS - Drinking, dishwashing, sponge bathing, face washing, teeth brushing. We have about 6 of them and we refill them at a nearby service station (gas / convenience / laundromat / showering place) where many other beardy locals draw water from as well.
• LAUNDROMAT - Laundry and showering facilities for Me (same place as above)
• WORK - showering facilities for Squanch
• RIVER - summer supply of all non-potable watering needs such as: laundry, watering garden, showering in the bathing house equip with a woodstove for warming water, and this spring, will be equip with a paloma for on demand water heating purposes (all those treeplanting camps we lived/worked/ran are coming in handy). 

Let's be clear:

I miss bathtubs. Words cannot express how spectacular baths feel when you can't have one at will. I am getting goose bumps just thinking about it. Today, I'm listening to Greg Brown while making lasagna and trying to keep the baby happy aka alive and there is a line in one of his songs "I want to buy you the biggest bath tub in the world." And to me, right now, those are the most romantic lyrics ever.

Mere (in the winter after planting)

this is a character i have a hard time writing but when i do it ends up being way more authentic than when i try to write any of the male characters.

Fiction Alert!


I am not supposed to be pregnant. No. Especially, I am not supposed to be pregnant and painting. Where is the inspiration coming from now? Cigarettes, drugs and booze were my muse. A lot of people, men people, the ones in bands, think it's the music. No. Music is what I used to smoke during the breaks from cigarettes, drugs and booze. Now all I've got is the music and the emptiness where vice used to be and it occurs to me that music is not that bad and emptiness is okay once you tarnish it somehow with the dirt of life experience.

The attic of the B and B is no longer cold like it used to be. Byron spent the first part of September - after the tourists left and before I returned - insulating my studio. Perhaps to ensure I never leave again like I did last fall. It's too warm now but I can't tell him this. It is stifling. I open the window and the air and the sounds of outside are invited in and a little bit of my soul is allowed out. The music is different somehow now too, not better or worst, just different.

The music is distracting, yes. When you listen to familiar fingers making sounds against the guitar and know you have made similar sounds under similar circumstances, with those exact fingers, and you start to sway with brush in hand and you picture yourself as you once were, mistress-home-wrecker to guitar-wife.. you feel guilty and this guilt becomes shape and colour on canvas. It isn't a bad thing. and when you start to get the impression the music is painting through you and you feel phony for just a second when you paint the sound of his voice orange and wonder if you should worry about offending him, or worst, flattering him.

I place the brush upside down in the jar, wipe my hands down the front of my belly and make an attempt at finding an album of music consisting of a band free of past lovers, real or imagined, and it is a difficult task. I settle for Janice Joplin. Of course it is impossible to not be nostalgic when the future holds nothing but the impossibility of kinetics and the promise of pain. And Janice Joplin reminds me of the summer I just had and the boy who, unbeknown to him, changed everything about my future while fighting hard to forget his own past...

happy happy yey

I want to turn this into less of an outlet for my meaningless bitching.

This may be the end. hhahahahahahaha

Whateves, positive stuff is fun to write about too, I guess. Like how awesome the barn i work at is. Yeah. Love it, love the people, love the horses and how there are dogs and cats running around everywhere and beautiful fields and trees.

I am going to apply for an office assistant/ communications job with a non-for profit sled dog racing organization for the summer. super stoked abuot that. Such a cliche for the yukon, but i have sort have come around to cliches since my hatred for them in my journalism days. They become cliches for a reason, because they are true. why fix it if it aint broke. see, a good cliche to explain what i mean.

my story has been germinating within me of late i have so many secret ideas. i wish I had time to write.. maybe i'll put some down in here.

so my last day off (without school or work was MArch 4 and my next one is easter friday (good friday?) damn right it will be a good friday. I may cook a huge pot of mac and cheese, the presidents choice white kind, and sit in bed reading all day. I will wear a diaper so i don't have to get up. put one on the dog too so he doesn't have to go outside.. hahahaha oh DEUSCZ! that is one of squanch and i's words we made up in our lingo. we have a ton.

lalalalalal staying happy YAY!~ I will just icnore all the annoying ass-hats tomorrow, which means i may have to go though the day mute and deafen myself with my earplugs. There is a deaf girl in my class. I am so JEALOUS! sorta, not really. I can handle being selectively deaf... music is important to me (used to be more so, still is but i don't have the time for anything other than bob macowitch in the morning and rich terfry at night on the radio.

I'm going to go to CBC and do that compass thing to figure out what my political sway is. Pretty sure it will be Bloc Quebecsquaw. yeah, that's right, you wanna leave bitches, then leave. i throw a vote behind seperatism. kidding, i love quebec and want them to stay but it's kinda twisted a complicated kind of love like the love for a red headed stepchild.. haha philip on survivor looks like a black mr burns.

i'm studying so you're studying

pots and pots of tea.. but not so much that you need to pee all the time.. (only every 30 mins :)and not caffeinated after 6pm because you need your sleep. peppermint is great as it stimulates the memory and calms those tummy jitters. yes I just said tummy.

highlighters and multicolored page darts and pens and pencils and cue cards and whatever superfluous stationary supplies you feel you need to feel adequately armed to attack dense material such as the veterinary hematological exam.

ambient music without words, or music with words that you do not already know the words too, and especially not music from a band containing (a) member(s) you have slept with.\

rules like no internets, phone, and other distractions for the 25 to 30 minute blitzes you will be studying.

5 min breaks with snacks, more tea, peeing and such... you will be suprised how much you will crave returning to your material!!!

repeat this often. write as you study..do not just read.. keep a positive attitude..
use a scented oil while you study adn also while you write the test to bring back the memories.. or chew the same flaour of gum to bring you back to the mindset of your studying:)

sunshine!

jonny braill

Fiction Alert!

one winter i was blind and it didn't matter because you played guitar and sang and had a bed with furry sheets and the kind of stomach you don't need eyes to appreciate.

---
(oh gawd i have so many random little bits like this in my brain. so many imaginary boys swimming like so many lost sperm in my head. i'd be a writer except it would probably only be boy crazy teeny hoppers who would read my stuff. not a bad market i hear... i could just make them all vampires or wizards or the next best thing ... which i will keep to myself because it is too lucrative an idea to give away.

Jess is right. If you mashed the two of us together, gave us a guitar, some tits and an awesome voice, you would have LISSIE! (bottle of tequila optional)