As established earlier, I love words, so again I go to the dictionary, well, the next best thing: Wikipedia:
"Writer's block is a condition, associated with writing as a profession, in
which an author loses the ability to produce new work. The condition varies
widely in intensity. It can be trivial, a temporary difficulty in dealing
with the task in hand. At the other extreme, some "blocked" writers have
been unable to work for years on end, and some have even abandoned their
careers."
Now, I am the the furthest thing from a professional writer, so maybe I should title this post as "Blog Block." I think, 'oh I could blog about that', or 'if I was to blog about this I would say this.' I could blog about many things, or at least 3 things: 1) there is a school I pass daily and their marquee states at this time that there is an event called
Mandatory Fun...I want to know how they get that to happen in a school! :) 2) Ezme is on a roll right now. She has strewn a multitude of tissue paper about the living room and has discovered a secret to me stash of batteriesthat she has also removed from their respective location and places throughout the apartment; 3) I could reflect, as the 2010 Winter Olympics begin, on my trip to Vancouver and Whistler. That trip is now approaching a passing of 5 1/2 years ago and other Olympic experiences that I have had.
Maybe, just maybe I'll touch on each thing. Warning though: this is uninspired and now that I have warned you I don't take responsibility for what you continue to read.
1)
Mandatory Fun: yes, I need to find out more about that. Cracks me up each morning as I drive by.
2) Ezme has always been, or at least in the time I've had her; an odd cat. She lives playing with metal, plastic, weird things. She loves hard cardies in the wrapper--for the crinkly wrapper, not the sugar. She has carried metal rods and writing utensils around, bringing each of those to bed with me while I sleep. Right now she has a fascination with batteries. Must mean I really need to address my closet, where it looks as though a tornado has been spinning around.
3) Right before I began my Senior year in college I went camping with Holly and Leonard, someone she was working with at the time. We had decided we wanted to camp in Canada. I had never been to Canada. I was excited to leave the country. We left Portland early in the morning, it was going to be a long drive. We, or I should say I, barely got through the border...something about an alert out for my arrest. I'd been skirting the authorities since I was in Wyoming...SO KIDDING! Did I have you there for a moment, even a small one?! Oh, goodness. Anyway, we got to Vancouver BC and decided to have a stop off to walk around. We needed to take a break from sitting in the car--it had been a long drive, even with the break at the border.
Vancouver was a beautiful city. I was mesmerized by the buildings, the water, the mountains. All seemed to be in harmony with the others. Holly and I joked that it would be funny if one of us had a house in Vancouver BC and one of us had a house in Vancouver WA. Not all that obscure, at the time anyways. Unlikely now. Though I'd go back in a heartbeat to that seemingly wonderful city.
We stopped at a gelato shop, where I had the best gelato, the gelato that I shall compare all other gelatos to: the French Kiss. My two favorite things combined: hazelnuts and chocolate. I have tried many other hazelnut/chocolate gelato combos and none compare. We gathered up our gumption to get back in the car and navigate the oh-so-confusing roadways of this big Canadian city, with their metric mileage system and speed limits. As we were driving we kept running into road construction. We couldn't figure out what they were doing. It later occurred to us that they were widening this two lane highway into a four lane highway to accomodate for the increase in traffic between Vancouver and Whistler when the Olympics arrived. At that time (August 2004), 2010 seemed like a LONG ways off. How quickly it has approached.
We made it to Squamish. Squamish-that is a fun thing to say...kind of like sqweemish, but not quite. This seemed to be a sleepy, lazy sort of town. A nice feel. We stopped for grocery supplies. It was weird to pay in a different currency. It felt funny going grocery shopping in another country. We had stocked the car with non-perishables before leaving the U.S. We then added our perishables to it. We had decided on a yummy menu for our time in the great Canadian 'wilderness.' Spaghetti, eggs, sausage, hashbrowns, burgers. I can't remember what else. People looked at us like we were crazy when we later told them we had spaghetti while camping. It was delicious though.
It was a dry year, fires were forbidden-that equated to no smores, nor any hot dogs roasted over the fire. No crackling wood sounds as we sat around the fire. No, camp lanterns don't, under normal circumstances, provide that crackling sound or the campfire smell. We would have a grand time, nonetheless. We headed north to the
Paradise Valley Campground located midway between Squamish and Whistler. It was run by a husband and wife and was only in its second season. It was beautiful in all its rusticness. They did have the wonderful luxury of a restroom and a little 'general store.' They were a sweet and amicable couple, offering any information we may be seeking.
There was a beautiful river that ran nearby, we ventured over to see it. It was a gorgeous color. We ventured up to Whistler--beautiful place. Absolutely beautiful. I decided on that day that I would return someday and curl-up in a big chair by the fireplace in one of the over-priced lodge appearing hotels. Someday, I will. I could have spent more time in this quaint area. Being August and all, of course there were no ski lifts/runs open, but this rugged terrain doubled as biking and hiking trails in the less snow filled seasons. The mountains were breathtaking. I grew up in the U.S. Rockies, which I must say, hold no comparison to the Canadian Rockies. None. There was construction going on in Whistler, again in preparation for the Olympic games that are now upon us. It will be interesting to see the changes when I do make it up that far north again.
That trip was amazing to me. We sat by the unfireside and gazed at stars. I grew up in a state with few lights from large cities and saw a lot of stars in my time. I spent nights on a deck of a ship in the middle of an ocean. And I can't remember seeing stars like I saw in Canada. The Australian accents of the people working at Whistler were fun. The maple syrup I bought and brought home was fabulous. The line to get back into the U.S. was long, the people waiting were getting out of their cars and playing in the grass that was roadside. We had the windows down and were singing (and motioning--in the car and spilling out the car windows) to the YMCA song. People around us proabably thought we were nuts. They probably were glad to send us back to our home country. By the way, getting back into the country was easier than getting out. That was another time, before passports were required in order to cross the U.S./Canada border. The drive back to Portland seemed like an eternity. I was never so happy for a shower as when I got one after arriving back to campus. I should look for the pictures. Yes, that would be good.
That was a fun trip. Yes, I could go back, and I'd even pass on the comfy chair by the fire in the lodge-like setting for another few nights of sleeping on the ground in a campground just outside of Squamish BC. Right now, at this age anyway. Give me a few years and I may not even consider getting anywhere near a sleeping bag on the ground no matter where I would be camping. I hope that is a ways off!
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