random update or something

i've seen hail in may
i've been out planting in a tanktop while huge chunks are falling from the sky

a few days ago, my crew boss and i spent three hours digging the truck out of snow

i've seen bears, lots of bears not even frightened off by barking puppies

i've seen men dressed at women and women dressed as men, messed up on mushroom tea and pot cookies at prom (how i wish i could upload the party pictures)

we moved camps again, this is our third camp. when we got there, the entire property was filled with cows. the trucks scared them away, but they left behing loads of patties-- big, stinky patties!

life is good, for the most part. i still have moments when i think of how great it would be to leave. to get on a bus and take my sweet time getting to ontario. then taking my sweet time finding a job in scotland. but even after a bad day, i go home, and there are other people there who have also had bad days. and there's a campfire, and awesome people, and awesome food, and all of a sudden leaving isn't even an option any more.

today is my birthday.

we have the day off because all of our trees are popsicles.

i am wearing a tank top and shorts.

re-re-re-repossessed

repo.

short form for reposess. in the treeplanting world, it is shortform for replant. sometimes your trees are shallow. sometimes you have planted them in redrot. there are all kinds of reasons you might be made to repo. the one that hurts the most, however, is the one that most truly reflects the word repo...

the other day i hit my head on a tree. was convinced i had a concussion. after sitting in the truck for an hour, i was tricked into working again. i blame the concussion for the horrible job i did planting the rest of the day. trees, which in this piece of land were supposed to be planted about 2.9 metres away from eachother, somehow got planted like a foot apart. at 4:00, an hour before quitting time, i was told i had to "fix this."

i had to repo. to reposess nearly 1/4 of the trees i had planted the whole day in the beating hot sun with a concussion.

one by one i removed my little trees from the soil and put them back into the sidebags from whence they came.

i truly felt defeated.

searching for soul and soil

weighted down by 250 trees stuffed into bags on my sides, i am sent up a really steep hill covered in death. dead trees, logs, leaves litter the ground. i am expected to plant these 250 trees, and do it quickly. no soil to be seen, just slash. i have to do what they call "skreef" (not sure on the spelling, not sure that it's a real word.) so i skreef, removing the top layer of dead stuff with my boot. when i see something that resembles soil, i slam my little shovel into the ground. instead i hit a rock and the pain vibrates up my left arm. discouraged, an move my gaze a little to the left. more skreefing. soil! i plunge my shovel into the ground with ease. but, this time, i reveal red chunks of a tree that once stood tall. red rot. can't plant in rocks, can't plant in red rot. can't plant. 30 whole seconds has passed by this time, and i am quickly losing money.

sometimes at this point i crouch down in my land and cry.

sometimes at this point i take my shovel and smash it repeatedly on the nearest obstacle. this usually results in injury.

sometimes i take a deep breath and continue searching for a place to plant a tree. 249 to go before my next bag up.

i am on the world's largest rollercaster right now. over the last few weeks i have thought about going home dozens of times.
if i give up, where do i go?

the truth is, home is not ottawa. home is not ontario. home for the time being is in the bush with a bunch of other people who are not at home.

it is though we have all stepped out of time. it passes differently. in the outside world i have been gone not three weeks. for me, it feels like i have been gone months. all that has happened, all the people i have met, all the things i have experienced.

i still have a while to go.

my new home is in a tent on one of the nicest beaches i have ever seen.