the utah thing started with desert solitaire, edward abbey’s book about wild places and humanity. my ex-partner, the american, gave me a copy when we were first in love, and after we broke up we decided to rendezvous in salt lake city for a week of adventure. our first night in town, someone stole his hunting knife while we cooked dinner in the hostel. we left the next morning, taking the bus to a spot just south of provo and then walking out to the highway. it was sunday: the minivans and suvs flew past us non-stop, but every seat was filled. after spending the night sleeping near a gravel pit, we managed to hitch five good rides (all stories in themselves), and were suddenly in moab.
i love utah.
i’m thinking about the desert, and trying to remember what it felt like to be so hot, to have so much sun that you’d actually avoid it. that first visit to utah, it was november and though the days were warm and sunny, it rained at night and i bought a sweater at the mormon-run version of value village. the second trip, when i drove down with another partner-at-the-time, it was june and we baked to the degree that it actually limited our activities: hiking could only be done from 3 pm to 7 pm, between the lessening of the heat and the arrival of darkness, and anything else had to be in close proximity to either ample water or air conditioning. luckily we found the creek that the bike punks in slc had told us about, and the moab library was not only cool, it has won awards for being an amazing small-town facility.
if you and i are in love with each other, chances are we’ll go to utah at some point or another.
This morning I made my throat achy and raw by retching over the toilet for a while, trying to throw up as neatly as possible. Luckily, I managed to not throw up at all, and so went to school despite lingering doubts about my health. If I had swine flu, I’d know, right? From what I hear, it’s a more sudden and violent affliction than this sort of creeping tiredness, nausea, absentmindedness, and headache that I’ve had on and off for weeks now.
I even forgot about tonight’s Billy Bragg concert until about 6:45 this morning, at which point I pretty much decided that I don’t want to go. I hadn’t even remembered to get tickets.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, except that it’s been cold and dark and rainy for weeks now. Summer feels like it passed faster than ever before. It took me a while to realize that I missed the first couple months of sunshine and warmth: Instead, I spent April, May, and June in Melbourne, where it was cold and dark and rainy.
I already had my winter, and am not coping well with another one hitting me again so soon.
(another post inspired by another blogger… vegan activist asked about my other bike trailer, which i mentioned in a recent post where i showed off the new one we got for taking the puppy on road trips, so here’s way more than anyone ever really wanted to know about it!)
this is my bike trailer, full of groceries and resting on its lower edge:
here’s another view, now resting on its hitch:
(as an aside, i must say that the hardest part of this post is showing y’all pics of my groceries, cuz i’m the sort of asshole who judges people based on what food they buy so i tend to expect the same from others… actually, that would be a really good sort of behavioural-modification exercise for me, if i posted photos of all my groceries… not so exciting for the viewer, but a chance for me to get the fuck over my issues)
i bought this trailer for $50 at a consignment shop seven years ago. the guy was asking $65, i asked if they had a student discount, and he said he’d give it to me for the lower price if i paid cash. done! since then, it has been used for countless food not bombs servings, dumpster diving missions, and house moves. it has carried individual large humans in a completely sketchy sort of way, and on several occasions, one or two small ones, nicely secured and contained.
i love this trailer because it is rugged: as you can probably tell, i almost always store it outdoors, but the only damage is some superficial rust. though it does not fold up like other trailers, it has a narrow profile when sitting upright (see first photo) and can be leaned against a wall. the wheels are quite large, allowing it to easily ascend bumps and curves. i added the metal hooks around the sides and bottom edge, so that multiple bungee cords (or old inner tubes!) can be used to strap in a big load. like all two-wheeled trailers, it has a tendency to flip if one wheel hits a bump, particularly at high speeds when there’s little weight in the trailer, but this can be avoided by careful riding.
the hitch goes around the bike’s seat post. originally, there were just two carriage bolts held on by wing nuts, in front and behind the seat post, but this rattled quite a bit and damaged the metal. i found the kevlar hitch in a random bin at the community bike shop, and replaced the front carriage bolt with the linchpin, simultaneously securing the metal outer ring and the kevlar inner band. i like it because there’s so few parts that there’s very little that can go wrong. also, the long shafts make the trailer very convenient to use as a wheelbarrow or hand cart, because seat post level is around hand level so it’s comfortable to pull/push the trailer to the grocery store like we did this morning.
i don’t like the fact that a child (or dog!) riding in this trailer faces backwards, but at least the solid plastic offers more protection than the tent-style trailers… better for a kid than a puppy. however, there’s nothing to shelter a passenger from wind or rain! with mo being so bloody cold all the time anyway, i think any attempt to get him to ride in this open-style cart would have him hating all bike trailers, which is why we’re happy to have gotten the other one for him.
luckily, he was happy to act as a model for this last pic: as shown above, the molded seats are quite good for holding boxes.
i don’t know if i’d ever take this trailer on a trip, though i’ve seen photos of the same one in the road trip section of a bike book… the cyclist had even strapped a whole extra wheel across the underside of the trailer’s hull! it’s not particularly aerodynamic, and must be packed carefully to avoid having too much weight resting at the lower edge, which causes the hitch to slam up against the bottom of the bike seat. also, it collects water, and requires a cover that can pull tight around the edges and some drainage holes.
however! as an all-purpose, haul-everything, so-worthwhile-it’s-practically-paying-ME-every-time-i-use-it sort of a tool, this is pretty much the best $50 i’ve ever spent.
I’m back. Actually I got back a few days ago, but hit the ground running and have barely slowed since. The entire trip to Ontario felt like that, in fact… I thought I’d be all relaxed and well-rested from not having to take a puppy out to pee in the middle of the night, but there was so much visiting to do. Oats and I shared at least one meal with both my sets of parents, both of my sisters, one of my stepbrothers plus his wife and two kids, my older sister’s partner, my older sister’s roommate, two friends of mine from high school, Oats’ parents, Oats’ grandparents, Oats’ long-time family friend, and Oats’ brother plus his wife and two kids. Twenty-four people in eight days. Fun, and exhausting. Upon our return, our landlady asked how the weather was and I said that I didn’t have a clue.
It’s good to be back.
Mo went to the vet tonight for his 2nd round of shots. It was a different doctor than the one we saw before, and she wasn’t quite as friendly. Among other things, she told us that he’s underweight, because his ribs are visible. We told her that her coworker had noted Mo’s skinny hips and long legs, and guessed that he’s part whippet, in which case he is naturally very thin. At this point, he barely weighs 10 lbs, and yet we’ve been feeding him the designated amount of kibble for that size of dog since we got him 4 weeks ago! We’re going to increase it now, but still… I think he’s just a bony sort of animal.
Whatever.
I’m cranky, and need to sleep now. I’m just glad to have such a good pup as Mo, and that he’s generally healthy and a pleasure to all he meets.
Mo at 13 weeks of age, sitting pretty in the special bed his Auntie has made for him in her kitchen, so that he can be part of the action and yet also comfortable (and fashionable).
marisa from food in jars was right: that dill pickle recipe of hers works just as well with zucchini as with cucumber. i used one of those massive zukes, cutting it into spears like i did for the cucumbers, and made many jars. they are crisp and delicious!
it turns out that the farmer for whom i was doing this actually doesn’t like dill pickles, but she was gracious about it and said she’d give them away as gifts. this same farmer also recently told me that she had more green tomatoes for me, but if i wanted to make more salsa, requested that i please leave out the curry.
huh?
i suggested that she was referring to the cumin with which i lightly flavoured the salsa, and farmer insisted that no, it was definitely “curry”.
sure, whatever, i said, mentally noting that the client does not like cumin.
this prompted oats and i to make mean jokes about honkies who don’t know spice, cuz that’s the kind of (honky) snobs we are.
i ran out of jars last week. there were a few 1 litre ones kicking around, but there was nothing that i’d want to use for the jam or pickles that were on my to-do list.
after turning up nothing at any of the thrift stores (!!!), and getting no answer from any of the online classified ads to which i replied, i broke down and did something i’d never done before… like, ever: i went to s@feway and bought a dozen new 250 mL jars.
they cost $15!!! ack!
then i got a phone call from one of the ads: 9 dozen salmon canning jars for $40, and they’d even deliver. woo hoo! i returned the new jars to the grocery store, breathing a sigh of relief that i wouldn’t have to break my pledge to keep a small(er) footprint with this canning obsession.
one of my classmates is a former logger from a small coastal community, and i asked him if he fished, hoping for a free salmon hook-up. turns out that he’d done a lot of crab fishing between forest contracts, but paid top price for his fish just like everyone else. yesterday, he brought me a jar of his salmon, and asked for the jar back; i did him one better, and returned from my trip home at lunch with a jar of dill pickles instead.
we’re leaving at an unholy hour tomorrow morning for our trip to ontario, and i’m trying to get a million things done while a puppy tries to sleep on my lap. i’m going to miss him.
latest batch of bread-and-butter pickles at left, salmon in jar turned on side in rear centre, zucchini dill pickle in bowl at front centre, jar of zucchini dills at right.
i started school on tuesday and thus far, it’s great, though VERY time consuming. between that and the canning, plus the fact that i have amazing friends and a new bike… well, yeah: the writing is not happening.
but that’s what summer is for!
my bike and oats' on the ferry to vesuvius, loaded down with gear during last weekend's bike trip
yesterday, i met a blogger.
i mean, i ran into them, and they were a stranger, but i recognized them, because i’d just added their blog to the queer canada blogs blogroll project.
let me tell you how oddly thrilling this was.
here’s what happened: i’d run out of small canning jars – my obsession with canning is in hardcore competition with my bloglove these days. oats and i were downtown getting stuff for our upcoming bike trip, and so i made a quick dash into v@lue vill@ge for jars. after doing a price check on the ones i wanted, i was heading back for more of them when a very familiar person walked through the door.
without thinking, i practically grabbed them and yelped “HI!!!”. in retrospect, this could have been rather alarming: i think i look friendly enough, but generally tend towards over-enthusiasm when excited. luckily, the blogger took it very well, and was perfectly gracious, especially after i explained who i am. we even chatted a little about canning, which was lovely. it was a struggle, but i managed to restrain my desire to scream out “OMIGOD YOU REALLY EXIST!!!”
dear fellow bloggers, please rest assured: it’s not that i truly doubt your existence.
however, most of the time i spend reading blogs is a one-sided, solo venture that is mediated by a computer screen. yeah, some of you are my real-life friends, but most of you are strangers for whom i’ve created personas based upon your words and images. to see you in the flesh, to share smiles with you, to shake your hand… is absolutely exhilarating.
now i’m reflecting on some thoughts that should probably be filed under “what blogging means to me”.
i used to blog as part of an online community that was mostly based around a system of message boards: my main interactions were in the discussions i’d have in these forums, and i tended only to blog while away from my home city. then i started blogging on a different blog-focused platform, because a few of my friends used it and i liked being linked to them. after a while though, i became more interested in simply writing, and fed up with the commercialization of my blog space. so, i moved to this URL almost a year ago, and took part in my first NaBloPoMo (national blog posting month) in november. the rest, as they say, is history: blogging every day led me to searching out blogs that interested me, which led me to commenting on these blogs, and eventually i was knitting socks for mae callen and then administrating queer canada blogs.
it’s been a funny jump. in discussing the first blogging platform i used, a friend once referred to it as “the kitchen table”, because it was a rather small online community where most of my readers also knew me in other contexts. by contrast, now i’m writing in what feels like a very public space: like i’ve picked up that kitchen table and carried it downtown to the square outside city hall. i’m much more exposed. to compensate, i’ve tried to anonymitized my blog as much as possible. at the same time, i think that there’s a inverse relationship between exposure and interest, because the more i reveal, the more i feel rewarded. telling my stories connects me with other people, even when they don’t know my real name. my real name doesn’t matter. this is the semi-shadowed link that i crave.
i used to think it was crazy when i’d read of bloggers going on long road trips to meet one another, because i’d think to myself ZOMG THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER. now, i get it. while i still believe that a regular reader of my blog wouldn’t really know *me* entirely, they’d certainly be familiar with many aspects of who i am.
in a couple weeks, i’ll be confirming my october trip to ontario, and i’m already wondering who i’ll finally get to meet. maybe it’s time for an unofficial local queer blogger rendezvous, or at least to begin planning one for winter? hopefully i’ll start sooner than that, by having coffee with the blogger that i met yesterday.
i stand corrected: the settlement to which i journeyed this past weekend for pride festivities is NOT a small town, it is a CITY. in my snooty urbanity, i simply assumed that it was a small town, because that’s what it seems to be from my perspective. the rural-urban divide is alive and well, my friends!
the city, as i will now call it, is too hip for a parade or a picnic, or any other of the more typical pride-type events. no, instead they leverage their local heritage into a more memorable experience: an evening ride in the open-sided passenger cars of an antique steam train, from the downtown core through the forest to an old mill, where we were treated to performances and a party.
in short, it was rad.
since the festivities didn’t start until dinner time, we had a whole day to relax in the dry roasting heat. at 10 am, it was 28 degrees celsius in the shade of my friends’ porch: hot! still, we went to the farmers’ market, where i got blueberries which i devoured to the point of illness. there was a stall selling baked goods, including super-cute sugar cookies. oats first pointed out the gingerbread family to me, saying that it was obviously us since the two larger cookies were decorated with icing swimsuits that matched the ones that she and i were wearing: one in shorts, the other in a bikini.
our local friend joined us at the booth just as i was oooh-ing over the chicken family sugar cookies, at which point the vendor came over and i complimented her on her creativity. she thanked me and leaned over to the plate with the chickens and pointed at each member of the family in turn: “they’re all there, see? there’s the mom and there’s the dad, there’s the chick, and the egg is the next baby that’s coming!”
we replied with tight-lipped smiles and quickly walked away. “did she really need to explain the heterosexual family model to us?” asked our local friend. apparently. i realize that some people would see this as over-sensitivity, but really: arg! how am i going to make room for my children in this world?!!
head full of these thoughts, i was a bit adrift during our next stop at a small open flea market. oats tried on a leather jacket and requested my opinion as she checked out her reflection in the car window. it was nice, but a little ill-fitting, and i told her so while smoothing it around her chest and waist. the vendor was watching us, reminding me again of how visible oats and i are, particularly in a smaller city with fewer queers. i found a handlebar bag that would be perfect for my upcoming bike trip; after i paid the vendor, she held out something in her hand. “for pride,” she said to me as it took it: two small metal rings inset with shell.
my heart melted. i thanked her profusely, and joked to oats that now we could wear them and everyone would think we’re married.
blind heteronormativity = 1 point
welcoming acceptance = 1 point
noon in the city and hey, we’re tied!
the rest of the day was spent at the lake, swimming and snacking and napping in the shade while trying to tune out the mega rock hits blasting from the speed boat anchored just over from our little section of beach: mostly heavenly.
as the sun began to set, it was time to get proud!
the charming ticket vendor at the heritage train station
the train: three cars passenger cars lovingly decorated
before the train ride begins, we are welcomed and introduced to the crew
this is the steam locomotive, coming around to the front of the train so that it can pull us up the hill to the mill
the view from the ridge, during a brief forest-free moment
a surprise stop at a road crossing saw the train set upon by rocky horror bandits, complete with water and bubble guns!
about 30 minutes from our departure, we arrived at this train platform in the forest: the mill
passengers disembarked and followed the trail of streamers and xmas lights to the mill… there were about 100 of us on the train, and then more who’d driven to the site: a pretty respectable number of queers, for a remote-ish city!
performances! this self-described tranny drag king rocked out some lip-synched numbers, and i found myself rather charmed by the whole experience despite my aversion to national flags/rainbows
the sky grew dark, the music grew louder…
and the glow stix got a little brighter, until the clock struck 11:30 pm and it was time to hop the train back to the city. personally, half an hour in a moving vehicle with a group of very drunk and loud young people is my idea of hell, but we all know that i’m no fun and should’ve taken my sober self to a more quiet part of the train. if there was one. at any rate… yay! pride! in a small city! so many million times better than staying at home, or going to the pride events in a massive urban centre where you feel like a lost puppy in the vastness of it all!
…i really love rusty things.
(photos from tonight’s evening walk around town)
on a completely different topic, i’ve suddenly got a borrowed car arranged so that oats and i can go to the pride celebrations in our friends’ small town this weekend! it’s about a 3 hour drive away, and i’d thought we’d miss it, but things are working out. i’m stoked: having spent most of my life in toronto, and then in this city, i’m pretty used to pride festivals that are either huge and crazy or very full of ex-lovers, former roommates, and past collaborators from activist projects. the few times i’ve been to vancouver pride i’ve been weirded out by my anonymity, even though i know that most of those throngs are strangers to one another as well. this’ll be different though: i won’t know anyone except oats and friends, but the crowd will be smaller and more familiar to one another. will they welcome strangers? will they even notice that i am one? will there even be a crowd? do i have too many urban-centric ideas about what small towns are like?
should be an educational experience, even if it simply gets me to shut up and listen more.
also, there’s been talk of tubing down a river, which would be excellent because it’s stupidly hot.
Filed under: Bike Geek, Co-operator, Homebody, Music Lover, Romantic, Scavenger, Traveler
oats gave me an early birthday present!
it’s a reproduction antique compass in a brass pocket-watch-style case, and i LOVE it. i didn’t own a compass before this… which is odd, considering how important it is to my mental health for me to know my bearings. now i’ll always know what direction i’m heading, and have a something beautiful to look at whenever i’m fretting.
last night we went for a long stroll after dinner, down through the side streets to the ocean. right after we turned homewards, we came across an absolutely incredible piece of furniture at the curb. a quick discussion ensued, made urgent by the encroaching darkness and another passerby eager to check it out if we decided to pass.
the thing is, oats and i are suckers for anything made from solid wood, and we both love the lines of (most) old furniture. aside from that, we’ve been talking about diversifying our income by turning our scavenging into a more lucrative hobby, by selling the pieces that we refinish.
so, i stayed behind to guard our new treasure, and oats took off to find a co-op car. hooray for the car share: the closest vehicle was available, and it just happened to be a minivan! i’ll skip the drama of us trying to load, and simply tell you that i couldn’t even lift one side of this thing. we got it up to our 2nd story apartment by taking advantage of the kindness of burly macho men from downstairs who seemed pleased to work for a 12-pack of sleem@n’s.
and now! behold!
it’s true: we don’t actually need an RCA Victor Magic Voice combination phonograph and radio cabinet from around the 1940s. but it’s so gorgeous, and we got it for the price of some beer and a car booking (totalling ~$31, in case you were wondering). my original thought was that we’d gut it, refinish the wood, and use it as a sideboard with storage underneath… perhaps making the speaker section into a glass-doored display shelf lit from above. however, at the urging of the burly macho men downstairs, that thought is on hold as we try to suss out some more information about the piece. maybe it’d be smarter of us to restore it to working condition? we already have a functional and sexy record/radio cabinet, though very different from this one: it’s more 1960s, but still solid wood, with a low profile, modern lines, and metal legs. personally, i’d rather turn the Magic Voice into something that suits my more immediate need for attractive storage space.
or… sell it? the old sticker on the back says $445 (8th photo from top of series), but who knows what the value is these days. of course, any real value is dependent on what a person might actually pay, which is conditional on a few other factors that aren’t really in our favour: the economy’s crappy, we live on an island, and this thing weighs a ton so is hell to move. also, i like it, and i’m not desperate for cash at the moment. i think my minimum selling price would be $500, because that’d pay for oats and i to each put together a touring bike (using my stash of cherry components, a couple 2nd hand frames, and some new parts too). otherwise, i think i’d rather keep it.
all round, my birthday’s looking pretty great.
**********
i’m having a bday bbq this upcoming tuesday! it’s at oats’ place (now mine as well), above the square! 5 pm onwards! there’ll be sangria and mojitos and sausages! also, veggie stuff! also, cake! please come!
