no title

May 20

One guy says that the reality of affairs is your experience in the present moment.
most of us will accept that your experience doesn't define truth. that very example, however, goes to show that our perspectives are varied and somehow missing the mark with every conjecture. Even if one synopsis did hit the mark, how would we know?
We define reality through a thick lens of worldview. our perception is tainted or clarified by our parental upbringing, our social status, our culture, our situation.

Some say reality is closest when they are with their family. Others when they are at their office. Some when they are on coffee others while they are in pain. Some say they reach a higher enlightenment on crack. Others, when they are deprived of sleep or oxygen. Some when they are on adrenaline others when they are sober (and why they avoid it.) Some when their brain is lacking serotonin and they are relapsing into manic depression. Others tell them they are disillusioned but cannot assure them that their view is 100% correct either- just because they feel it is or because most other people agree with them.

All of us need to feel some kind of grasp on a reality in order to function. Some of us thrive in simple worlds. some in complex. some people can't function because their world is constantly growing beyond their understanding. Others, in an obsessive disapproval of substitution drive themselves to the edge trying to find truth.
What is it that drives us?
What is it that makes the back of our minds know that there is something more that we haven't got yet?
What part of evolutionary advancement or intellectual enlightenment explains our search for a standard of reality that holds?
Even if we've never seen an episode of the x-files, we probably recognize it's catch phrase:
"The Truth is Out There"

Somehow this TV series, in one phrase, has connected with us on a strangely deep level.
I know that there are lot of agnostics or atheists or pagans, where technically this doesn't fit the frame, but I like to think that everyone either is wishing for God to come back and take us away or make things right or for aliens to come and do the same.

TO BE CONTINUED I know that there are lot of agnostics or athiests or pagans, where technically this doesn't fit the frame, but I like to think that everyone either is wishing for God to come back and take us away or make things right or for Aliens to come and do the same. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I suppose those who hope for the God of grace would naturally be those whose lives are messed up. If it were aliens, then they are just what everyone else saw- a failed experiment to throw out with the trash. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Those who are afraid of a God of Judgement might opt for aliens. That way there is no moral law. Everything they did was in response to how they were created. They are not responsible because they are simply measurable data. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Either fills the void that says there is something more. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The thing about aliens, also, that would make us tend toward them over God is that there would be no eclusivity. No aliens would come down and say, "I'm sorry, you believed in the wrong doctrine on Aliens, we will have to leave you behind." or "We won't be landing in Pittsburch because Pittsburgh doesn''t believe in aliens," or, "sorry pal, you can't come back to the home planet because you didn't read the right books about aliens." No. When aliens come , they are for all and they don't care who believed what. On that day those who disbelieved will be happy to throw away their cynicism. those who thought the aliens would look differently would quickly admit their mistakes and rush to shake apendages. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No-one will be judged for being wrong. How could we have known? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And where aliens didn't leave any evidence; they also didn't ask anything of us. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The thing about faith... can I be honest and say I've been going through a sincere faith crisis of late? One thing, among many, is this question of "Why Faith?!" Why are we asked to suspend belief when we follow God. I am willing to trust that he's there when I don't see him, but only as long as I know he's there to begin with. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I mean, believing is something great that brought life to this all- not so hard to concieve. To have a savior/king/friend who you have a relationship with and yet can't see- harder. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why must there be so little evidence? Or am I just looking in the wrong places? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I started thinking- what if God and his relationship to humans was all common knowledge. I guess that a lot more people would have to choose sides. Some would jump to serve the king they now see- I guess. But more- I suppose- would feel and unwilling obligation to "love" God or else realize the futility in this and opt for rebellion. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Is it possible that faith lets those with pain and unsurety toward God have the chance to be coaxed toward healing and love by the Father rather than coercive blantentry? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Perhaps we prefer aliens because we have a tainted view of God. We don't want God because we are afraid of what He might do. By no means is He safe. Neither are aliens. They might be coming to destroy the earth and we still prefer them. Point is, maybe we just need some love. Some coaxing. Some healing, before the light of God on a new morning's horizon becomes the most beautiful sight in our mind's eye.

The Rock

It's a funny thing to hit
Rock bottom alive.
A pin hole of blue
Is all left of the sky

You have nowhere to go but from where you came
To get up again, if you find the strength

You hit bedrock and got stuck in a hole
Long time since you freed the end of your rope

With nowhere but up, and your choice locked in this;
The strength lent your legs by the rock bottomest

Yes, you've fallen through
To your lowest of stages
But your stand at the bottom
Is on the Rock of all Ages

introspection

July 11

Seven times the waves broke over top of me
I came up cleansed from my infirmity
Froze heart stop beating
Seared soul brought nigh
New and breathing blood beating
Alive
Come through death to the other side
White washed Red sea in
Walked out dry.

July 26

Flung alive to the pitching waves
And they closed over my head
I said "I am lost" unto the flood
Can Leviathan resurrect?

Mercy

I watched "The Breakfast Club" for the first time recently. I was not quite sure if I liked it or not until I finished it and sat on it for a while, and then decided that i did.
I thought it would make a great group question to ask, "which character would have you been in high school? The basketcase, jock, dweeb, beauty queen or criminal? I immediately jumped for the basketcase. But when i got honest with myself I realized i was closer to the dweeb. Thinking upon it further I realized that the jock wasn't far off the mark either. Even the beauty queen and criminal had elements that i related to. I realized that that was the point of the movie. As it says at the end,

"we realized that we were not really that different. Inside of each one of us there was a Basketcase, a Dweeb, a Jock, a Beauty Queen, and a Criminal."

I don't mind telling you that a month ago I was in a pit of depression and doubting my faith. I felt like the bible and Christian faith were not adding up. God seemed distant and I realized just how invisible He was.
Funny thing about faith; you can't really prove it any more than you can disprove it. If you're getting caught on this statement you are thinking too hard. Forget I said it if it helps. I'm saying that it is not usually logic that makes people accept their faith, and I do not think it is usually logic that makes people walk away either.
When everything felt at the brink of breaking for me it was missing one final ingredient and it was not reason. It was relationship. Like it was probably a relationship that brought you to faith, it was the need for a broken relationship I felt i needed to walk away. God did not need to betray me. The church would do. If a solid christian in my life misunderstood me right now then I would have all the justification I would need to walk away from the faith.

This wasn't going to happen. Despite doubt, disillusionment and depression, I didn't have despair yet. I certainly did not have a church who would betray me. I knew them too well. They are wonderful people, the Christians who support me. The thing that makes them wonderful is not their lofty unshakable convictions either. Nope. Its their honesty, venerability. It makes them approachable. If I tell them that I'm drowning, they won't cut me loose. They will put on a life jacket and jump in with me, letting me hold onto them until i stop hyperventilating. They are not too "holy" to touch me and they are not too high up to reach.

Looking back on this situation, though my clothes are still wet from it, I realize a good thing that came from it. I believe I've grown in mercy and compassion.

As a teenager I led a youth Bible study/discussion group. Because of the informal nature of the meeting, it often attracted the kind of people who had trouble breathing inside a church.
Although I was not a perfect leader, I like to think (and hope) that I got one thing right. I remained approachable and venerable. I was a kid, I did not know all the answers and i did not pretend to. If friends lived their lives in contradiction to my moral set or did not agree with my beliefs, I like to think that i focused on who they were rather than drawing a line between the two of us based on contrasting moral convictions.

I'm glad I didn't make you-me distinctions, especially in hindsight. This difficult time I've gone through has made me grow in empathy, sympathy, compassion, understanding and admiration for the likes of doubters, depressives, intellectuals, artists, spiritual seekers, self-proclaimed agnostics, people of other faiths, addicts and users.

Because I think I was open, and accepting of who people were, I can still look these friends in the eye if i cross them on the street or in a coffee shop to this day. Neither of us drew lines or closed a door. They seem to respect the way I live my life and my faith, maybe partially because I respected who they were. Therefore, the conversation is ongoing.

I remember the scene in John 8 (which I recognize is a contested part of John, but I'm going to pass by that right now. Its not enough to make me write it off.) In the scene Jesus confronts the scene of a woman caught in adultery. Jesus says to the scribes and Pharisees, "Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her." (ESV)
Then, one by one, they leave until it is only Jesus and the woman left. Jesus, who Christians hold to have been the only man without sin, is therefore the only one justified to throw a stone. But He says, "Neither do I condemn you".
You better believe that it was mercy and not condemnation or a high moral code that made her "go, and from now on sin no more."

What is it that those outside the Christian faith see, our convictions or our mercy?

It seems that the people who Jesus had the least tolerance for were the Pharisees. the Pharisees were the ones with a high moral order. In fact, their disciplines were so high that they might be historically argued to have preserved the Judaistic faith, traditions and scriptures.
However, it is the pharisees who Jesus accuses- the ones who were technically the most sinless.
I love that we see Jesus act mercifully toward a Pharisee when he comes to Jesus to check his notes. It is in John 3, which is careful to point out that the Pharisee comes to Jesus "by night".
By Night. I bet you that this Pharisee's "gospel truth" was shaking, and that he was scared. He wasn't sure enough about this Jesus to let people see him going to talk to him maybe. But under the cover of darkness, he could disclose openly his questions. I like that Jesus meets him at this level. He doesn't come down on him for acting stealthily. Instead he goes ahead and explains and answers questions- even if they sometimes only seem to lead to more questions.

I understand why Christians speak above their level of knowledge and grasp for pat answers and rock solid doctrine. I understand. Coming face to face with hard questions and leaving them unanswered at the end of the day is scary and uncomfortable.
Fear is a dangerous motivator though. I read recently that the most repeated command in the Bible is to not be afraid. Do not worry, do not be anxious, do not be afraid, do not be terrified; the Bible is full of such sentiment.

Imagine if the members of "The Breakfast Club" held onto their fear and never opened up to each other. They would never have become venerable, shared, and in the end, liberated. There is something about truth that sets us free. But something about fear that binds us.

I'm not sure what would have happened if we threw a "born and raised Christian" into the mix with the Breakfast Club.

I imagine that He'd be the most afraid of opening up. Especially about his faith, because he wouldn't be able to stand under the fire of questions that would be inevitably thrown at him. He's only a teen. His own confidence might slip! Would he be open about the f***ed up part of his own life? Or would he be afraid that he would "betray his wittiness" by looking as if he were living beneath his own moral standards or faith ideal? If anyone else opens up about their garbage, however, he can't help but think, "sinner". He can't help thinking this because its how he runs his own life. He is a sinner when he sins and better than everyone else when he doesn't. This is how he justifies himself.
Everyone would despise him. Not because he is being the least like Christ, but because he's a closed door. If his disposition doesn't reek of judgement, than it certainly is drawing a line between him and everyone else. "If he's so much better than everyone else then he probably doesn't want to touch us lepers" the criminal would say. So in the end they would put him in the closet and lock the door. Everyone would be glad.
But what if he is better than everyone else! Let his convictions speak!
No. Let mercy speak.

Let compassion speak. Let truth speak. Let the Holy spirit have a clear, unbound, and fearless vessel through which to set free and speak life.

In Luke 6 Jesus says that,
"the Most High... is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful"

And he continues,
"Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you." (ESV)

One of our moral convictions as Christians is mercy itself.

In John 4 Jesus meets a Samaritan woman with a confused belief system and a messed up life. Jesus points out her moral shortcomings, but it is not as to condemn her. He had already passed the social barrier of speaking to a woman, and the social barrier of friendliness to a Samaritan. It was as if he was pointing out that he was willing to jump over the barrier of her sin as well. He shows her mercy.

Fear not only keeps us from our own healing and letting the Holy Spirit use us, but it draws lines between us and others when it means we are not willing to cross the barriers to get to who someone is (and show them Christ's mercy.)
This is exactly what the Pharisees were not doing (exactly what we as "Church-going Christians" have a danger of not doing). Maybe, like the Pharisees, we are afraid of breaking a rule, getting our hands dirty, touching the leper. Afraid. I understand. We need to remember that mercy should be front line in our arsenal of convictions. Remembering also that we have been shown great great mercy. Remembering where we came from. If we aren't motivated by this, then maybe we have to check ourselves. Have we received healing mercy in our own lives? Is our lives about how good we are or about how good God is to us? If we let God's mercy reign, we are justified. Free to be fearless in The Breakfast Club.

Because honestly,in me there is a basketcase, a jock, a dweeb, a beauty queen, a criminal.... and Jesus.

Parola

Jun 12

This squatter community is near Divisoria. Like Nevotas it is also situated on the water, but more of the houses that I see, in this case, are situated above the shore line. Consequently I found myself sitting on a narrow walkway, trying awkwardly not to get in the way of the residents going by, watching Noli talking to one of the moms that the ministry works with, and looking out at the water.

The beach does not have shells or sand or rocks as its bed. It has garbage. Literally, the ground is composed of garbage, much of which is also to be seen floating out in the ocean. This doesn't stop children from playing on it or swimming, however. No matter how strong their immunity systems must be from living this long in this kind of environment, there is nothing I can think of that justifies swimming in that.

A woman walks up to me and speaks in english that betrays a likely education (suggesting that perhaps she is too, just a visitor)
"What do you think of this place." The question was surely trying to illicit a response to the immediate seen in the slum, and as there was no right answer to it, I play the aloof visitor and speak generally instead.
"Hot!" I say, (which it was) "mainit!" I add, proud that I know the Tagalog word.
Bullet dodged.
"Many children," she comments, gesturing to the kids playing on the beach. "This place is good at producing children!"
It is said with an air of humor, but I could see the underlying statement.

Family management and planning are hot topics in the Philippines. They are the answers, some would say, to, "why do the children swim in waste?" or "why do families have so many children when they can not afford it"
"Overpopulation" is also an inevitable buzz word. I picked up a book recently which seemed to suggest that it was one of, if not the Philippine's primary problem.
I would be slow to call human life a problem, but there is no doubting that there is a correlation with the amount of people and economic disparity etc. The book looked like it was going to start railing against the catholic church's war on contraceptives. This, is another hot topic.
Just yesterday I saw on the news, a catholic protest against sex education. I guess the idea is the one of schools sex ed classes only causing more sexual curiosity and therefore activity and the promotion of condoms and the idea of "safe sex" at the same time.
On Valentines day an authority handed out condoms to a boatload of people. The result was an uproar. As you can imagine, the government saying that it wasn't their idea, a few liberals saying that it should have been their idea and the Catholics in a state. The action of the individual who pulled the stunt would be called by most, "irresponsible" but by a few, also "shrewd." For it threw the country into an debate forum. A conversation in which also STDs can hardly be avoided as subject manner. Timely since the Philippines has just recently come out with the numbers that show AIDS is no longer "Low and Slow" anymore, but a very serious and immediate problem.

The people at Parola were friendly and once asked Noli if I was alright.
"Oh because I wasn't smiling and looked all serious right?" I said to Noli afterward.
"Yes" he chuckles.
"Darn, that's long been a problem with me. I'm not unhappy or anything. That is just the way I look when I'm thinking."

polotiks. o ya.

There's an election coming up in the Philippines, so at the church I've been hanging out at on Sundays, they've been talking about how to be involved in politics from a Biblical standpoint. Last week they used Romans 13: 1-5 as a teaching platform. The first part of which says the following:

"Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves." Romans 13:1-2 (NIV)

The idea that struck home for me was that we Biblicaly have a civil responsibility, and it makes sense. The speaker said that they all wanted foreign investment in the Philippines to boost the economy, but that if the Japanese (who shows up 15 minutes early for everything) books a meeting about it with a Filipino (who is often late), the Japanese investor will walk away and a deal will never go down. Point? The civilians need to do their part. If they want the traffic situation to improve, then they need to obey traffic laws. If they want the Police to be honest, then they need to dispute an unfair ticket. If they want less kids out defaming property, then parents need to take more responsibility of those kids. etc.
A society doesn't rest on a government alone. The government has "ministries" to "serve" the public so that it can work alongside the establishments of family and jobs and church to uphold an unbroken system. Makes sense right?
Means that I should think twice about running the light that they apparently put in just down the road from my place in Canada where the Four way was.

The success of a society requires unity on part of the civilians; an agreement to work together to making their society a better one. Unity.
I was thinking about this and about the social barriers that this means crossing in many societies. In Canada not the least.

In Canada, we are especially known for blaming the government instead of getting behind it. And that with a... fifty-something percent turn out to vote?

Grace

I have often thought of the innability to accept grace, love, acceptance etc. as being a different problem from that of selfishness. However, I was reading a bit of a book by Philip Yancey (one of my favorite writers, pick up one of his books and tell me what you think) called "What's so Amazing About Grace?" and from many quotable phrases, i pulled the following one out for you:

"We live in an atmosphere choked with the fumes of ungrace. Grace comes from outside, as a gift and not an achievement. How easily it vanishes from our dog-eat-dog, survival-of-the-fittest, look-out-for-number-one world."

Consider this. I have been prone to self-serving-ness in this "dog-eat-dog" world. Why? Because i want to do it without God? Because of Pride? Because I think I am the only means to my ideal life? Perhaps also because at the heart i don't want to trust and I can't bear to lean. Truly, I'm afraid. I struggle with accepting his hand, his love, his grace. If I could accept, then maybe this striving would cease to matter. Everything I have could be swallowed with the liberated appetite that accompanies a free meal. Guilt free. Grace.

Hati

Tonight I was hanging out with some friends who wanted to watch a movie. Angie said that we should watch 7 Pounds because I needed a good cry and probably hadn't had one in a while. I, perhaps taking the comment beyond its humorous intent, retorted that I had watched 7 Pounds and it hadn't made me cry the first time. And that, in addition, I had already had something of a cry earlier that very day. First of all I was told I had to have had a heart of stone to have watched such an emotional movie and not be moved to tears. Secondly, I was questioned as to what would, then, have brought me to the edge that very day. I didn't answer, but I'll try now:

It seems like cynics are easy to foster in our culture. I'm a good example. We become cynical of our governments, cynical of things we don't understand, and cynical of ourselves because we know that our society is the most successful failure we've ever seen.
Recently Canada was accused of covering up a placement of Afghan detainees that knowingly resulted in their torture. All I seemed to hear about it from Ottawa is whose job should be lost as a result and who gets to fill it once they're gone. Nothing about morals. Little about making things right. Never an apology (that i heard). "What has happened to our humanity?" one might be heard to ask. "At what point is this not a game anymore?" See, it's easy to be a cynic.
Over the past decade, those US officials responsible for pushing the war in the middle east have been accused of doing it for the oil rather than for domestic reasons. Amid conspiracy theory a population grows apathetic and stone heartened to the "propaganda" that floods their televisions. Perhaps we all are cynics.

Perhaps my heart has been cold as anyones.

but this is what happened:

I drove to victoria and back for something- i don't remember what. On the way there i saw the sign emploring everyone to donate to Hati relief. I think the dj on the local rock station was talking about it too. Everybody, it seemed, was talking about it- and trying to do something about it. Even one of my employers young daughters had just told me a day or few earlier that she was doing a bake sale.
I decided to listen to CBC 2 on the way home. The entire day on air was dedicated to Hati. There was related music and massive fundraising. It seemed like this was not simply a marketing push, the sound of its voice didn't allow for me to believe in less than genuine compassion. I was touched by the programming, but what really pushed me to the edge was, as i was still listening, i passed under an overpass on which a handful of people were waving signs to give to hati and how to do it. As I drove underneath I knew i wouldn't, for my current situation, go donate right then, but i gave the a thumbs up as i drove underneath. A communication that connected. I knew what they were doing, how important it was, and they knew that i knew and that i was right there with them in spirit. I felt a connection. I felt a belief in humanity, and among the reality that hung over this disaster I begin to cry for the gain that hati seemed to have made in our humanity. As if, even as we were helping her, that she was saving us.

Maybe if Victoria could unite, if Canada could unite. Maybe if all these nations were pouring in millions upon millions to a country that probably did nothing for them, then there was hope. Maybe there's still hope for us as people; as humans.

Church

I had a beautiful run in with church recently.
The service that I had normally been attending (and loving), The service that might be responsible in part for making me love church (in its institution?) again, was coming to an end. The service took place on saturday nights and was not a thing apart from the congregation that met in the same building on Sunday mornings. The saturday night service had been something of an experiment in expansion and a trial of creativity. It was not a separate church from Sunday morning if you take my meaning. It was, however, a different format that i found myself very engaged in. The sunday morning formats were different, and I hadn't been regularly attending them, for various reasons, for 2 years. I had actually been frustrated with it all about 2 years earlier, and felt at the time that I needed to take a break- not from resentment perhaps as much as from a sense of needing something fresh which i could give and take more to and from. Now, with the saturday night services ending, which i had started attending consistently about a year earlier, I knew my next move.
I had showed up on the occasional Sunday morning here and there, but things were entitled to have changed. Would people even remember who I was? I wanted to make sure they did.
The Saturday night before I would be making a comeback to the sunday morning service, I was driving home with a friend from Victoria. She was going to be staying at my family's place overnight and i was going to drop her off at her church service in the morning before going to mine.
"Won't you be late for your service then?" she asked.
"I don't mind being late actually." I countered. "actually, to tell you the truth, i've shown up late on purpose lots of time to church. No-one seems to mind if I do, and it sometimes just makes it much easier."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I don't know. I guess i just get closterphobic when i'm sitting in a room full of people for more than an hour. I start getting fidgety and scetching out. Especially if the Pastor decides to speak overtime, as he often does.
"Oh"
"Plus, i guess there's also the fact that sometimes the music just drives me crazy at the beginning. I mean, it depends and it sounds terribly rediculous or selfish i'm sure, but i can't get around it driving me crazy sometimes."
"Oh i see" she says, "So if you're only here for a few weeks more before you leave" (this is a few weeks before my departure to the Philippines, which is supposed to keep me away for about half a year) "...and if you don't like your church that much... why don't you just go somewhere else?"
The question was fair. But my own indignancy suprised me.
"Go somewhere else?! What?! I don't think you understand me at all! This is my church. This has been my church since i was 15! I cant just walk out on that! No, i might not like the pastors speaking sometimes and sometimes i even disagree with points, and i might not like the country ballad versions of songs that proceed it- but the pastor and the music leader are my church. They are guys that love me! I leave in a few weeks and i need to be at church to remind them (for those that haven't been attending saturday night services) that I'm still around, I'm still one of their family and that I need them now as much or more than ever!"

As an aside, this conversation is a paraphrase, and i should apologize to my friend because its probably an unfair depiction of a conversation that this friend really helped me process with... and i hope it didn't seem like i was yelling at you. Anyways, thanks for listening.

Next day at church was amazing. I felt so at home. I felt so supported. Two or three old ladies whose names i can't even place came up to me and told me how nice it was to see me back around again. It was a great time with a great family with definite quirks (but we're all human?), and i think it might have marked a healing step in coming back to church. I wasn't alienated or resentful, and i was a part of that church (just in a different setting with different people) but I might have been a little lost. A conversation solidified in me what was important. The important part as i see it now is the fact that the people who make up My Church are the people who have been there the whole time; loving people, as faithful as the ocean when you return to it for peace.

post concieved Jan 10. written mar 1

Alice Vs. Captain Hardy

Sunday

Mike wants to know if I'm still willing and wanting to go to Port Hardy to Visit Ried
"lets shoot for four o clock tomorrow."
It is decided.

Monday

"Want Coffee?"
"Yea, that'd be sweet"
"Snacks"
"For sure"
Werther Originals and Twizzlers accompany bad tasting gas station coffee as we pull out from filling up in mill bay. Five hours to go.

We are warned of Elk before we get to Cambell river. We discuss the immensity of Moose and I imagine how awful it would be to hit one- and how much the moose would notice if you did.

We call Reid when we get cell service. This is about 10 km out of Port Hardy. Mike has neglected to tell him that we were coming so he sounds confused when we tell him that we're just outside of town. Ried has the ability to shake his head with his voice. He's a cop. But he lived by practical street sence long before that. He wouldn't be one to drop in unanounced to a friend who may be working one of any uninteruptible shifts at the time when he expected homage. Fortunately we expected nonesuch, and fortunately Ried knows us. He'll shake his head with his voice and be glad to see us at the same time.
"we just figured we'd light a garbage can on fire or something if you were working."
"Yea that'd be great" Ried returns unconvincingly.
Conveniently, Ried has the next couple days off.
"So what do you want to do?" Ried offers, "We could go see Sharon."

Fortunately Sharon does not live far away. We hop into Ried's car and drive to her place. Partially thanking the fact that Port Hardy is a large abandoned parking lot, we can still see my Toyota from her place. She greets us with the kind of enthusiasm reserved for kids on the last day of school, turned up a few notches.

We decide to Visit Caleb. He lives in Port Alice. Port Alice is a stones throw by thrown stone and 40 minutes of windy narrow road by car. Caleb doesn't expect us either.


We sit at his place and chat untill its considered late enough to trek back to Hardy. When i hit the floor I stay there until late the next morning.

Tuesday

Breakfast, shooting range, Salmon burger, Hockey Juniors for the gold, Canada Juniors take silver, Pie, Game Cube, twenty minutes of M*A*S*H*, Loosing to sleep, Lost.

Wednesday

Nobody serves breakfast after eleven. However, there are cinnamon buns left at the diner, and they are big ones.

Ried wishes me well, I said goodbye to Caleb and Sharon last night. More gas, more coffee, more junk food. We make the trip in five and a half hours. Its beautiful how much ground you can cover when you don't have to take a ferry. Its a beautiful drive.
Mike is home and I am home; tired but unready for sleep. I take my time and begin to plan my next trip. A target from a tactical set at the firing range reminds me of this one.
It was good. It was very good.