Six weeks at camp can have a largly negative effect on one's ability to communicate via the keyboard, and perhaps that is a good thing for me, and for you.
My poor taciturn fingers, your poor inquizitive eyes.
There's something about coming "home" to a new house, one that lacks memories and attachment, that makes me ready to drop everything and run away. Actually, I feel less like I'm running away, and more like I'm running towards something... anything more than this will do really. Camp did me over this time, I feel like I'm in a rather small bowl and I might explode if I try to fit in here. I need a challanger, and some excitement in my direction.
Oh dear Valour, would you stop pulsing through my veins? Let me rest a while perhaps.
I'm moving to Edmonton for six weeks to frame with Peter and crowd. I leave on the 4th of September and stay until my surgery, which is scheduled for Oct. 24th. Should be an adventure and a half. I'm excited and also slightly nervous, seeing as I know nothing of framing or E-town.
It all seems like quite a imaginative tale right now, but it's advancing quickly and I should most likely be trying to "prepare" myself.
Love.
Honour.
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1 comment:
i am jealous of your upcoming adventures. i wish i had some. are you going to harvest moon? i still need to find a ride. im running out of people to ask. travis said yes but now he can't cause he has to work. grrrrr. i need to go. it'll be such fun. oh my incredible ranting abilities!
~Whitney
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