Mosquito coils and G&T.

The smell of mosquito coils always transports me to our cabin at Jan Lake in northern Saskatchewan. As the years pass, I feel more and more sure that it will be a haven and getaway I will appreciate all my life.

Though transported by smell, I am physically in northern BC – I wonder what the long/lat is? Could I fly straight across two provinces to our cabin? I would sit on the deck - screened in to keep out the mosquitos. There are other things out here that remind me of our log cabin – the wooden plaques in village stores that read “our provincial bird” with a picture of an enormous mosquito; stores with laundry in the back and an assortment of cheap and random  goods – minnows, plastic shovels and buckets, balloons, fishing gear and crackers and canned beans in the front. If you're lucky, there might even be ice cream. 

Not so long ago, I was not even in the bush of northern BC. I was in the Fraser Valley/Vancouver for Tiff and Gareth's wedding. It was beautiful. I am eagerly awaiting Sharalee's pictures so I can relive it via photos - but it is not so long gone that I can't remember it all. The warmth and relaxation found at Dave and Debbie's and amongst my best girlfriends. The comfort of the familiar and missed. Days full of laughter and toasts and meeting new beau's. Days with ocean  in front of us and Abbotsford behind us. A day of celebration and beauty and only the good tears. 

G and T - it was a honor. It was a beautiful day(s) and I am so glad I could be there to be a part of it it all (and meet Maureen and Richard, seriously they are the best!) I hope you guys are settling into your new home. Love you both. 

Sophie was there.

B Freemans was there.

Tiff was definitely there. 

The rehearsal dinner was gorg. (at the Vancouver Yacht Club)

B Maids (minus me). We happy.

They (G&T) were pretty happy too.

I am squinting pretty hard in this one, but I still like it.

Just some rapping during the reception. 

Look at these two rockstars. Beauts.

Already June

Every fluctuation in the weather is noticed out here; every minute of light added or taken away observed. This year began with heat - shorts and tank tops required for the first few days - a stark contrast to the snow that greeted everyone as we emerged from tents and trailers on the first day of the season last year. As a result, the trees budded weeks before they usually do. The last two years I remember the moment, around 4am, while walking down a path through the trees, that I saw the first buds and leaves appear. The heralds of spring. This year they came before I could await their arrival.

Birds chirp at all times of day here. There is one bird I especially notice in the evening, its ribbon of sound cutting through the dusk. It reminds me of where we are. We are in no city or town. No glow of lights creates a halo above us, just the hum of generators running on gasoline. And when the generators are turned off for the night - peace, the blessed quiet. The absence of sound is a lullaby all its own. This time is my favorite time of day out here. The camp full, everyone is sleeping or falling asleep after a day well spent. This happens between 9 and 9 30pm. By 10 camp is quiet.

The sky out here is big. Big sky is where I feel most at home - either fringed by forest, or prairie. I suppose that's why I feel so at home in front of the ocean, because of the big sky holding court above it.

It already June, my beautiful Mother's birthday has passes and G&T's big day is later this week. The summer seems to be passing quickly this year. I have settled into my new role - camp paperwork hound, data entry person, safety coordinator. I like it. It is a much calmer existence than cooking. Though ultimate calm continues to elude me, I appreciate the concreteness of my job this year. The steady checking off of to do's on my list.

'Til next time,
Elizabeth