Communal Living

It’s been so long since I’ve posted, I don’t know where to start. I have options galore: things I’ve learned in Canada lately; people we’ve visited; places we’ve seen; a list of animals we’ve had the pleasure of stumbling across (no whales or bears yet!!); favourite moments; what we’re doing right now. Laughter is good for the soul, and so that’s where I’m going to go. May I add, as a ‘pre-script,’ that as I write this I am sitting on a balcony at Whistler (where the Olympics were this winter), surrounded by the phenomenal beauty of God’s creation. It’s breathtaking, the still-snow-topped grey mountains in the distance, the closer ones covered in a variety of coniferous trees, a mesh of green that can only occur in nature. I can barely see my computer screen if I turn my gaze a little to the right and over the top; the sun is preparing to set, and as it slides down the sky the reflection in Lake Placid below is like a brilliant diamond. Kind of like the ring that Tris bought me for my 40^th but THAT is another post altogether. I’ve got Van Morrison (Astral Weeks and Best Of) partially masking the sound of the highway and the swoosh of the breeze up here is doing the rest.

If I ever write a book, I think I’ll call it “And I Disgress…”

For those who have sat and chatted with me for some length of time, you’ll know that it’s been my dream/vision/momentary lapse of sanity to buy a huge chunk of property and divide it up among some chosen individuals (they’d pay me back, of course). We’d live in “community,” share ride-‘em lawn mowers, cut fire wood together, build a work shop and communally own the tools, can fruit and veggies for the winter, look after each other’s children and probably take first aid courses annually in our raised-in-a-day gymnasium/barn. During the last week we’ve had opportunity to practice a little of this “community living” as we have stayed at my in-laws’ house. Laura (Tris’ sister), her husband and their 4 children have recently moved in as well, as they work on renovating their home. Along with the 10 people there are also 4 dogs, two of which are becoming very hard of hearing. Needless to say, between children singing (Justin Bieber??? What happened to Raffi???), dish & laundry washers churning, dogs competing to see which deaf dog can bark the loudest, parents gently chiding (“Bullfrogs out of the house!” “Don’t poke your sister in the eye with that weenie stick again…” “Willie, you silly dog, you’re all wet. Get off the white sofa!!!”), it’s quite hard to hear what’s actually under the noise. Like the time I forfeited knocking on the downstairs suite door because I knew they wouldn’t hear me anyways. Ooops.

That morning I was in a rush, and so I barged in. Unfortunately, on the other side of the door, next to the bathroom, stood my quite-undressed brother-in-law (I promised no names. Do the math), who, upon seeing me, whipped his left leg up to protect my virtue and, so it seems, to hold up the tiny facecloth he was apparently using as a towel. It wasn’t this image that caught my attention, nor was it the flash of never-sun-kissed white. Rather, it was him yelling “Hold on! Hold on! I’m naked! I’m naked!” This stopped me in my tracks. I turned around and shut the door behind me, chuckling. Later, when I returned to the suite, apology in hand, I learned that my brother-in-law had been answering a business call when I walked in. It was then that my chuckling turned into guffaws, complete with snorts and tears. The only thing that the man on the other end heard was “Hold on! Hold on! I’m naked! I’m naked!” I never did find out if the business deal was successful.