There are few things, for me, that make feeling miserable not so… miserable.
- Cat cuddled and purring on lap: check, wait… no check. Ok, check again… and… nevermind.
- Big comfy sweater, sweat pants, and warm socks: check, check, check
- Decaf Earl Grey Tea in favorite mug: check and check
- Kleenex: check
- Reading list: check
Feature photo courtesy Trip Advisor.
Arguably, the best food in the world can be found in and around Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.
Authentic, sometimes century-old, family recipes have made their way here along with the people that have immigrated, from near and far.
The accessibility to quality ingredients (such as fresh fish, organic produce, and free-range, organic meats) has exposed us Westerners to the very best dishes from Cuba, India, Ethiopia, France, Italy, China, Mongolia, Korea, Lebanon, you name it…
Not to mention the amazing cultural experiences that come along with it.
It can be tricky to stay appropriately connected with the outside world when parked in the middle of nowhere for months on end. We have been in some pretty remote places. Lue has even worked up in the Northwest Territories. I didn’t get to go on that adventure.
To give you an idea of our isolation, we stayed in places like:
Picture this in your mind.
A 1250 sq.ft. house with 4 bedrooms.
4 adult women, 1 teenage girl, 1 toddler, and a guy on a 2-week-on-2-week-off schedule.
We have dubbed this house “The House of Wait”. We operate around shower schedules and the capacity of our shitty hot water tank. …
Since 2012 Lue and I have been living full time in an RV. We started off in a 28′ Sunseeker motorhome with 2 cats, 1 of which was geriatric. Seriously, Tigger was 23 years old but other than being completely blind, was pretty healthy. The other one, Stitch, was a rambunctious 3-month-old kitten that we rescued from an industrial area parking lot. …
This conversation actually happened…
Lucien: What do you feel like doing?
Anna: I don’t know, what do you wanna do?
Lucien: *breaks out in dirty dancing and singing* I wanna shoop, baby. Shoop, shoo-ba-doop, shoo-ba-doop, shoo-ba-doo-ba-doo-ba-doop.
Anna: *proceeds to laugh hysterically*
For Christmas, my 2.5-year-old niece got a cardboard submarine. Someone beat her to playing in it.
Stitch jumped into the porthole to claim it for her own.