Digging in (metaphorically)

So part of the problem in those first ten days was the weather. It rained every day, and I knew that about BC, I'm from BC, but I expected it to rain in fall when I had tea and boots, not in July when I had only a suitcase full of tank tops and shorts and one pair of canvas shoes. So it rained, and we didn't know what to do with ourselves, and camping out in your house and only eating what you can cook with a borrowed pot and a pan, washing dishes after every meal because you only have four plates, it's fun for less than a week and then it becomes a drain on your emotional resources, which are already at a low because you don't know where anything IS.

So all the stuff we did that first week, we did in the rain. And on top of that, we go places and I'm just like, The fuck are these people. Which I know takes time, and we didn't start out in Saskatoon knowing all the librarians and which vendors at the farmer's market would give the girls cucumbers just for waiting in line. I miss the chocolate girls, who would read out to Eleanor all the options, every week, before she would pick her sample. I miss the ginger lady, the donut girl. I miss getting pekoras from the truck for the walk home. I miss the walk home!

But ok, so we live here now, and we are digging in roots. We have been doing the Chilliwackianest things we can think of. We've hiked Teapot Hill twice.

We've been to Cultus Lake, which we can get to in less than ten minutes. 

And then obviously we have been hanging out with family like all the time.

And the weather is looking up.

We are looking up. (Also, Josie is coming to visit. We are counting the days.)