someone naked?

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I’m working on the day 4 photos and movies and eating generic lucky charms. I also have two dogs right next to me on the sofa wrestling for my love.
okay, fuck it, I filled Chester’s canine genius with dog food and generic lucky charms(mostly dog food but planting the idea that there might be MORE lucky charms inside if he just keeps working on it makes for quiet time). Maddie needed a break. Ever since we got back from the BWCA Chester has decided that the only thing I am allowed to love is him. He’s the only one I can snuggle with or talk to or give belly rubs to. David is starting to miss his belly rubs.
This is a new one on me. I’ve never really seen this behavior in a dog. It’s like jealousy but dogs don’t really have jealousy as such. Mostly I don’t involve myself in the dog politics, I expect them to work things out their own way. Lately I have had to get involved because he’ll pester Maddie to the edge of madness if she spends too much time with me. A couple minutes in the dominance roll calms him down for a bit.
***
David was doing laundry and found one of Anna’s shirts that she must have left here while housesitting. I found another. Today at lunch I gave Anna her shirts but she only claimed the nerdy Lord of the Rings shirt, not the other one. The three of us debated whose shirt it might be, but we all had to conclude that we each knew our own clothes and we would know if that was ours.
So, if anyone is missing a Gap 100% cotton button down shirt, size medium, medium blue with slender white and grey stripes, I have it. You can have it back if you can explain how it got in my laundry room.
***
David was at the grocery store looking at the pistachios when a guy came up, grabbed a handful and walked away. Later, David found a pile of pistachio shells by the water jug filler.
Now, I’m no fuddy-duddy, but damn. DAMN. You want to try a grape and make sure they’re sweet, okay that’s fine. Maybe you’re not sure if you like the chocolate covered wienerpops in the bulk bin….pushing it, but try one. Only one!
The large barrels of peanuts and pistachios are for sale, not for snack. They are not put out as a public service to quell the hunger of stupid shoppers. They are put out so that customers may pick the amount they want and purchase (PURCHASE) that amount.
And I don’t want to hear the argument “well, the grocery store is screwing us! this is my way of getting even!” You’re not getting even, you’re eating pistachios that you didn’t pay for. If you want to ‘get even’ then go to another grocery store. The nice thing about this free-marketesque economy is that if you can patronize any business you want. You show support or anger with your wallet, not with pistachios.
Also, throw your shells away you shit! Do you think they just disappear into thin air once you put them down and walk away? They don’t other customers have to see them and buy the products near them. Somebody also has to pick them up and throw them away for you. Are you so out of touch that you think “hey! pistachios! i love pistachios, I should eat some” and then “my hand is full of empty pistachio shells…don’t need those!”?
Our every action, large and small, cuts a path in this world. Our every action is a stone dropped in a pond, the ripple moves outward affecting a larger and larger area. Your choice is to make sure that the paths you cut in this world are clean and productive, not destructive. Your goal should be to keep the ripples to a minimum.
I guess shit like this (and graffiti tagging and petty theft and whatnot) is that it shows such a lack of perspective on the part of the person doing it. They think only of themselves, their adoration of pistachios, their need to mark their territory with a paint can, the love of a good stop sign. I don’t expect people to live as ascetics eating rocks and quietly mumbling apologies to the world, just have some perspective. Think about something other than your wants, consider that other people don’t want to pick up your pistachio shells!

BWCA Day 3

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Wolves in the distance woke me and I lay there listening. Up before the sun, peed by a log. Basic camping stuff.
David and I went down to the rock at the water to take in the sites and appreciate what ‘was’. The nice thing about having an entire lake to yourself is that you can go around in your underpants and offend no one! Well, no one but the beavers, but they’re dicks anyway.


Chester tried to do his best Sean Penn impression but failed.

We relaxed with our feet in the water, the sun still hidden behind us. We were protected by the rocks and the trees. As the sun came around I could tell it had chosen me as its special victim (because, you know, the sun has it out for me). I scooted into the shade and pulled a towel over me. I even commented that perhaps at this age I should be more responsible about my skin and avoid getting burnt. Yeah, remember the time I went to Key West and got burnt so bad my skin was purple and it radiated heat for days? Yeah, I need to stop doing that.
David slathered me in spf 8000 and we decided this would be a quiet day. As I mentioned in a previous post, my goal was to find equilibrium, to make peace with myself. Today was the day. I grabbed my book, some crossword puzzles (even junkies need a fix in the wild) and my trail mix and headed out to a shaded rock that overlooked the lake.

David was busy collecting and boiling water so Chester decided that he’s get way more passing out done near me. As the sun moved, so did I. I was determined to stay away. Screw you, sun!
Between crossword puzzles and chapters in my book I spent a lot of time thinking. Contemplating. The results are in the post previous to this.
It really was one of those days where you sit very still and allow yourself to stop projecting and start accepting what is around you. (Stop Projecting! Start Accepting! I’m totally going to write a self help book and act like a dick and be a darling of daytime talk show hosts! Better watch it Dr Phil, I’m gonna knock your ass into a spin.). Of course while I was sitting and navel gazing, David was taking the canoe out and actually doing camp related survival chores like removing Giardia lamblia from our drinking water.

Speaking of water, I am stupid! When we g camping we bring a certain amount of water with us, but it’s not intended to last the trip. At 8 pounds a gallon, you’re really not going to bring all the drinking water you need with you. You will have to collect and filter or boil the water. Getting the water from the middle of the lake allows you to have water without so many floaty bits in it. As I was watching our ‘city’ water supplies dwindle I automatically went into reserve mode. I wanted to make it last. i knew in my head that we would be boiling some soon, but I was responding to the visual. I stopped drinking water and when I did drink some it was only a small amount. On day 2 I only peed twice and the second time was right before we went to bed and I had to think of waterfalls and Dr Phil to make it happen. Lack of pee in this very hot weather with all this exercise means lack of hydration.
The headache started on day 3. Along with the contemplating and sun fear, I was also battling a headache from dehydration…in the wilderness…with no Alleve. I told David and he made me drink a lot of water and kept on me, but the headache just had to run its course. I seriously considered trying to find a willow tree and boiling its bark because I read somewhere that aspirin came from the bark of willow trees and even though there are no willow trees there…I was going to try. No I wasn’t.
To make myself feel better, I laughed at the dog.


My dog looks like a pig when he sleeps


Also, he has actual buttcheeks. My dog has buttcheeks! If my dog could dial a phone he’d totally be calling for help since I’m always pinching his little doggie buttcheeks.


fuzzy dude on the tent


I think he wants to kill me.

By mid afternoon I knew I had lost my battle. Sunscreen, shade, sacrificed squirrels, it didn’t matter, my back and shoulders were burnt all to hell. They hurt and I was not feeling very happy about this. Fucking sun! I’m going to get in a spacemobile and fly to you and punch you right in the photosphere!
We ate rehydrated food and campfire baked potatoes and some MREs and we split a bottle of wine while watching the sun go down. I felt better after that.
Hanging the food in the tree was harder for some reason and I got stabbed by an angry tree. There was cloud cover so we could not watch the stars.


Look! I have iMovie and I like the fade out-fade in transitions!

BWCA…

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I’ll get back to posting pictures and amusing anecdotes about wilderness poop soon.
I went to the BWCA with a mission. I had to find a way to make peace with myself and the universe. To find a way to reconcile a universe that would kill my dog and reconcile with my own self over the ‘betrayal’ of my brain.
1. everything that we are, every element, every atom, every molecule is found throughout the universe. there is nothing here on earth that cannot be reproduced with raw materials anywhere else in the universe. If this is the case then what are we but the universe. and what was ghengis but the universe. the suv that hit him, his blood, the tears, the grief, the ashes, all of it is part of the universe. My anger? universe. all of it.
I went to the seclusion and quiet of the BWCA to try to make peace with the universe. To find a way to forgive the universe for kicking me in the gut. I was tired of being angry. I wanted an apology. From the universe.
I spent time contemplating. I spent time alone thinking. I was still. I was active. I waited for the sign. Because I’m like that. That’s right, bitches, the universe is going to give ME an apology! me! not you.
And what conclusion did I come to? What information did I take in when I relaxed and let it in? I went back. I went back to the time before Ghengis died. I went back to the understanding that the universe is without intent. That a great deal of my anger in grief was conceited. It was centered on myself. It was saying “fuck you, universe! how dare you kill my dog!”. The universe didn’t kill my dog. I mean it did, my dog died, but the universe did not kill ghengis because he was my dog. The universe just juggernauts forward. Anger, while completely natural in grief is misplaced.
Anger is a response that says “you wronged me! I am wronged!”
I was not wronged. I am part of this amoral universe. this unplanned, uncontrolled whirling fantasia. in 14 billion years stars come and go, planets form and get destroyed, life starts, stops and starts over. The idea of “fair” is a construct. There is no “fair” or “unfair”. Having you dog die isn’t about “fair” it just is. To say I was “wronged” is to say that I am somehow important enough to be noticed and plotted against. To say it is “unfair” is to say that I should be exempt from the vagaries of life.
To distill this down…Shit happens, but it doesn’t happen TO me. It happens and sometimes it affects me.
2. Depression is a pain in the ass. Going to see the psychiatrist every few weeks, tweaking your prescriptions, taking pills that make you tremble or sleep or not sleep or poop nuggets…it’s all a pain. Sometimes I feel betrayed by my brain, by the chemistry and the circuitry in there. Why can’t I just have a brain that creates the normal chemicals, why can’t I just ‘suck it up’ and feel okay?
Why?
There is no ‘why’. To ask ‘why’ in the metaphysical sense “why can’t I have what other people have? why can’t my brain be normal?” is to assume that you’ve been selected personally to be insulted.
I have not been personally selected for a miswired brain. Oh sure, we can point to incidents during development, but again that leads you to a question that should not be asked.
Again, in short…shit happens. asking ‘why’ just keeps you sitting in idle. I have stopped asking ‘why’ or rattling on about ‘fair’. It is neither fair or unfair, just a fact. To move forward you have to get out of idle and turn on your blinker.
I accept what there is. I cannot fight it, only work with it.
I did not get the answers I expected when I was up there, but I did find the answers that I knew all along.

BWCA Day 2

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I wake up. It is raining. I wait. David is sleeping. I am awake. It is raining. David is sleeping. It’s 6am. David is sleeping. I am awake. Chester is sleeping. It is raining.
By 10am I am way bored, I am regretting leaving my book in the back pack instead of bringing it into the tent with me. By 10am I have to pee like a maniac. All that rain has sent its not so subliminal message to my bladder. I get dressed and pull on my (awesome) new raingear. David asks me if perhaps I should wait to see what happens with the rain. I am determined, I have to pee.
I go out into the rain. I get ready to do the awkward outside squat pee. Can the people at the other campsite across the lake see my giant white ass? Should I pee somewhere else? Why would they be out in the rain staring across the lake? Are they perverts who like to watch human dugongs pee in the rain? Probably not.
After I do my graceless business I start to gather things that could entertain and feed me in the tent until the rain stops. I ask if it’s a bad idea to canoe in the rain, David reminds me that the canoe is aluminum and the lake is water and maybe we shouldn’t tempt fate.
I gather my stuff and…the rain stops. I could have waited. I curse the sky and my bladder for conspiring against me.
We breakfast on Clif bars and canned Starbucks coffee drinks. I’m no fool, I know my caffeine needs. David knows that the most dangerous thing in the wilderness is me without caffeine…or possibly the most pathetic.
We discuss our camp options. We don’t know if the campers across the lake will be moving on to the next campsite or staying where they are, we don’t know if the next campsite is already taken. If it is, we’re screwed. More specifically, I’m screwed. The next campsite is on the other side of the next lake and at the other end of a death march 3 mile portage. Remember, we can’t carry everything in one trip so that would make 9 miles of hiking. We hiked this trail the last time we were up here. Highlights included trying to balance on a fallen tree, avoiding primordial muck, being carried across a particularly messed up beaver dam site and once getting my short fat leg stuck on a log I was trying to climb over. I kind of don’t want to try this while laden with 2 thousand pounds of stuff. I do not tell David about this, I do not want to be a whiner.
Eventually we decide the people across the lake are staying put. We load up and head out. Once again Chester is terrified of the canoe. At the other side of LaPond Lake we hit a patch of lake grass and lily pads. Dipshit dog jumps. I bet it was a big damned surprise to him that this was not the dry land he thought it would be. I promised David that I would not panic if the dog jumped out, so I didn’t. I just shut my eyes and sat very still. Inaction is the choice not to screw things up!
Chester gets his sorry ass hauled up into the canoe.

He then crawls to the front of the canoe, worms his way around and drapes his stinky wet body across my lap to sulk. Jerk.
Actually, this isn’t too bad. He’s found some level of comfort on my lap and has fallen asleep. This is good.
We navigate the low water/high grass and manage to find the waterway between the two lakes. This is one of my favorite parts of the trip. There are water lilies everywhere and since the waterway winds and curves, you don’t have that sense of urgency or long distance that you do on a larger lake.
The next portage is less than a quarter mile. The trail is easy and quick with few obstacles. We move our stuff quickly and get back in the canoe. Chester is much calmer this time. I think he’s got it figured out. We complete the waterway and end up on Big Rice Lake.
Could it be? HOORAY! No one is at the campsite! We get the campsite. We land, we empty the canoe and take over.
Chester decides to do the one thing he excels at…passing out

Once everything is set up, David and I head down to the water to watch the sun set and bask in the absolute aloneness of it all. Big Rice Lake is, as the name implies, big (though it’s not made of rice, that’s a misnomer intended to confuse people) and there is not another campsite on the lake. I am so charmed by this. I am amazed! Someone like me can have this entire lake to herself (and her boyfriend and dog, though the dog does not count since he didn’t haul anything).

We head up to camp, build a fire and roast wieners, cook up MRE’s and grub through whatever else fit in our mouths.


You can’t maintain your spherical figure on the trail without eating many many marshmallows

One of the categories in the “Great Outdoors Guide to Things That Aren’t Cool” is “Things that bite you that aren’t bears”. This includes biting flies, deer flies, horse flies, Be’elzebub’s Demonic Flies of the Deep and Mosquitoes. All day in the sun you are attacked by the various flies, as the sun sets you get 12 minutes reprieve, then the insatiable swarm of mosquitoes zeros in on you.


you are forced to make yourself look as dorky as possible to keep safe from the mosquitoes

A lack of planning ahead has forced us to try to hang our food in the middle of the pitch black. It sucked, we succeeded. Wolves howled in the distance and again I was charmed to death. I’d never heard it before. It’s such a mournful, keening sound.
Finally we crawled into our sleeping bags, listened to the angry beaver slap the lake and fell asleep.