Thursday, February 27, 2014

Keeping Clean and Things I Do That Relate to Health and Not Smelling Like Old Sweat

I wrote this up a couple years ago and am posting it now from the "drafts" archives...

What do I like?
Smelling like a human.
What do I like? Cleaning only once or twice a week.
What do I not like? Crazy chemicals.
What do I not like? Washing all of my natural oils down the drain.

I’ve been avoiding putting insane chemicals on my body for a little/short/long while. I’ve been moving from a commercial-product dependency and find my body happier with substitutes you can eat or at least ones with one-item ingredient lists.

I’ve moved away from shampoo, conditioner, lotions, deodorants, and shaving creams.


Keeping my hair clean requires three things - baking soda, apple cider vinegar, and water.

Baking soda helps scrub the dirt out.
Apple cider vinegar restores a proper ph level.
Water is the universal cleaner.

Why no shampoo? Well, I guess I just don’t need it. None of us do. Shampoo strips the scalp of all those lovely healthy oils it creates. What does this tell the body? More! Make more oil! And then we get oily greasy hair.

When I used shampoo, I had to wash my hair every three days, as, on the third day it would start to look kinda gross. Now, I can easily go a week before it needs some washing (I do, often, rinse it with water half way through the week, which does the trick to freshen the hair up).

My hair and scalp have loved the switch and I like how simple it is. It’s saving money. Saves time. The world likes it (the packaging for both are glass and cardboard - no plastics).

So, what do I do?

I have a bottle I tote around of acv (apple cider vinegar) and a small container (old hummus container) of baking soda. Before heading into the shower, I put a few large pinches of the baking soda into an old Adam’s Peanut Butter jar.

In the shower I add about 1 cups water to the jar and swirl it all about. I rinse my scalp thoroughly and then turn the water off (don’t need to waste it). When the water’s off, I pour the baking soda water on my hair and scrub that scalp clean. I get to every part of my scalp and massage it good!

Water on. Rinse it all away. I pour 1-2 tablespoon’s worth of acv into the same jar and add some water. Turn off shower, dip ends of my hair into the jar and then pour the rest of the contents on my hair.

And that’s it.


To clean my body, I use four different things, depending on my mood. Soap can have some funky things in it and I’ve found a few soaps that I trust.

Chandrika Ayurvedic Soap
Dr. Bronner’s
Baking Soda

My favourite bar soap is Chandrika Ayurvedic Soap from India.

The ingredients list is simple and, low and behold, I can pronounce all of them.  The base is coconut oil (which, oh goodness, I adore that stuff). Then there’s wild ginger, lime peel oil, hydnocarpus oil, orange oil, and sandalwood oil. Without Ink does a good job at exploring the purposes of all the ingredients. It’s a pretty heavily scented soap, but not with fragrance. And the smell definitely stays around for a while on the skin.

Dr. Bronner’s is a staple in most of my social circles - everyone knows and loves it.

Blues dancers.
Contra dancers.
River guides.
Haines locals.
Punks and hippies.

This stuff is great - you can get it in bulk and it’s ever-so-powerful.

Currently I’m toting about two bottles - the 18-in-1 Hemp Peppermint Pure-Castile Soap and Tea Tree.

Ingredients? Water, coconut oil, olive oil, tea tree or mentha arvensis, hemp oil, jojoba oil, citric acid, and tocopherol. Ok, I admit, I don’t know what tocopherol is.

Peppermint tends to be the preferred, of folks I encounter.

And what girl hasn’t experienced the strong tingling sensation of Dr. Bronners peppermint soap “down there.” The topic came up on a Tuesday as mojitos were consumed. Every woman knew exactly what we were talking about. Turns out, there’s a song about it.


I haven’t used a crazy-deodorant-antiperspirant for a while. Eh, don’t need to.

Your body is supposed to sweat - sweating is good.
And, if you eat well and shower enough, your sweat won’t smell that bad.

We’re supposed to have our own smell. Since when are my armpits supposed to smell like juicy watermelon or French vanilla? There seems to be a huge aversion to the smell of humans, which I find sad. When I meet someone and hug them, I’m smelling them, as that’s a way of documenting them in my brain, in full.

So, what do I use? Because bacteria does want to form in those pits.

My magic crystal! Ahh, it’s “Naturally Fresh Deodorant Crystal.” Hypoallergenic. Paraben free. Fragrance free. From Thailand.

All it is is natural mineral salts (Ammonium Alum) and aloe vera. That’s it.

So, what the mineral salts do is they prevent that funky bacteria from forming. That’s it. The bacteria is the smell. No crazy bacteria, no smell. Yes, I do sweat, but I like that. Sweating is healthy and necessary.

And, one small crystal lasts for years and years. I just put it on after I shower.

Sometimes, though, my armpits need some special love (like the other day) where I feel like, even if I wash ‘em good with Chandrika and use the crystal, after some sweating, they don’t smell like I’m used to. Then I just put some apple cider vinegar on a washcloth and wipe my armpits with them at night. By morning - back to neutral.

Most of the time (80%) I don't use anything - no crystal, no acv....


I just use oil. Jojoba oil. Olive oil. Coconut oil. Vitamin E oil.
On my face, arms, hands...

And that's about it.

Our Day of Rest, Our Winter Walk

It's 2:34 PM and I am cozied up under my quilt by the fire at L'Abri. There are wet mittens, scarves, hats, and socks all hung up from our long jaunt through the snow.

This Sunday morning I woke up to find that the snow hadn't stopped, yet. It was still flaking down in never ending patterns as it was the night before. I felt satisfied and pleased. There are few things as excellent as snow days, the thick sort of snow that blankets the world - slush does little good, when you have nowhere that you have to be. A step even better than that is when you're living in a house full of vibrant character that you absolute adore and are eager to spend time with.

By the time I got out of my shower, the fire was already blazing and Erin and Tim were cooking up some bacon and French toast. I pulled out a book and it was suggested that I read aloud. People gathered and breakfast was served.

After the meal, as Liz and I did dishes, Tim began to read to all of us from The Princess and the Goblin, by George MacDonald. The story drew us in and it was nice to just enjoy a story. After dishes, I joined everyone else around the fire as he continued to read. Erin was knitting, Emily was drawing, Liz was painting, I was prepping letters, and Matt was just sitting and taking it in. The fire burned hot and I felt peaceful - reaching a state of bliss that didn't take over all of my limbs, but casually lingered in my mind and invaded all emotions.

After nine chapters, we all started to get antsy for a walk in all of the snow that had accumulated over the past two to three day. We all started to bundle up for a trek out to the outlook - a good length walk for a day in which you would be hiking through top-of-the-calve-deep snow. I threw my Carhartt overalls on over a emerald green wool sweater, enough to keep me warm for hours in the snow. Everyone was wearing their winter finest - jeans or snowpants, gaters or galoshes.

I was eager, so eager.

Heading out was Emily, Erin, Liz, Matt, Tim, and I.

On the way down the driveway, we met up with Clark, S, and SB who were all working on sledding down the small hill. The giddiness started to build up and bustle out, turning us slightly childish in the way that only snow can.

Liz, Emily, and I grabbed hands and started skipping down the small, tree-lined road shouting out "Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Steven!" Lines ended in laughter, sliding, and full jubilation - a tone that was pretty set and steady for the rest of the stroll.

Matt and Tim were quick to leap full bodied into the snow, armed with snow pants, and the rest of us maintained our verticalness with true glee. Conversations started to unfold in the way they do as we partnered up and changed conversations, slipping easily between topics. I was grateful for the time I had with each person, grateful I got to know them and excited at the prospect of spending the next couple of months with them.

After a few minutes on backroads, we turned off onto a small trail that headed straight into the heart of the woods. Trees would bend over under the sheer weight of all of the snow gathered on the boughs and we would shake them to release them, watching them rise tall again, showering us in thick snow.

Each step made us feel like we were entering Narnia again - feeling the same wonder that Lucy experienced when she first stepped through the wardrobe. It was such a positive crew to be strolling with. I know I've written this out already, but I felt so, so grateful to be in the company that I was in.

From the path in one corner of the woods, we crossed the road to the Quarry. We wound down a hill with sharp switchbacks to a little hiking-lane that went by and across the small ponds. Everything was frozen and still. It was a perfection that could penetrate you and make you feel like the world just might be as it was supposed to be, or at least that it could be.

We made our way out of the Quarry up to the outlook. We had gone from low to stark high and the blood pumped in the way that would make lunch taste all the better when we dug into our sandwiches an hour later. A few Tibetan prayer flags signaled our way to the outlook which was nothing but a sea of grey -- although sea implies we could see the strait, which we could not. All it was was grey skies from the snow that continued to steady fall and whirl around us.

Conversations continued and swayed into topics that I wasn't accustomed to being able to have with other people. That's another thing I appreciate about L'Abri - we discuss topics that I don't always get to have with other people. Certain subjects just aren't on the radar of my general acquaintances and I don't feel comfortable enough to bring them up. A few of the folks got to work building a snowman which turned out to be a Minion - a very cute one.

After 30 or so minutes, we started are way back down to the Quarry. We held hands and started to sing out chants that we knew that involved right and left feet and coutning to eight in German (ein Hut! ein Stock! ein Raggashirm!!). Before long we had all six of us lined up, hand in hand, skipping, running, and sliding down the hill. I wish I could can up the bliss of that moment and pour it into a spoon for weary souls struggling through this February - give them a taste of the freedom that I know we were all feeling in that moment.

Near the bottom we took a right instead of a left and took a shot photo-break at a circle of rocks. As we got back onto the main path, we connected with Louise and Richard of Bowen Bay and their sweet dog, Wiley. Wiley was a short pup with frozen snow balls iced into his paws, some stained yellow. We engaged in conversation with them and after a few minutes, a family of four came down from another direction. There was a father with a thick accent (I think it was Scottish or Nova-Scotian) pulling his young daughter, Sophie, and the mom with little brother on her back. Accompanying them was a huge bear-of-a-dog. There in the clearing, we chatted, engaged, and connected.

Altogether, all 12 of us, we marched up the hill back to the main road. It felt too surreal, too perfect to be real life. I have a deep craving and desire for community. Many times I have to seek it out and create it on my own, and do. But here it was laid out before me to enjoy like a feast.

At Sunset Road, the original six of us broke off and continued back into the woods knowing that our lunch was waiting for us at the counter. I wish I could drag so many of my friends into the peace and joy that I find here. I wish they could bask in the genuine connections that we weave over hours and hours and promises of weeks to come.

Back home, we munched on our sandwiches and apples. I grabbed a rack to place in front of the fire and soon it was decorated with mittens and scarves like a Christmas tree. We read. We talked. We danced around the living room. We did push-ups and curl-ups (22, 21, 20, 19, 18...).

And now it's just about time for high-tea.

I am grateful for this life.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Narnia on Bowen at L`Abri

The reality of L'Abri, in this moment, is something I wish I could draw you all in to to experience for an evening. It was series of simple events that are so easy to connect with - the connection I was longing for when I came here the first time.

As I write, now, Emily is playing Chopin on the piano, Liz is painting, and a few folks have the cards out.

The evening.. well, I guess I want to hop to the morning. This entire post might just be snippets of glimpses of blinks from the day.

The morning started with all of us gathered around the fire that I had just started. As I arranged the wood and coaxed the flame into something that could sustain itself, Liz read poetry to me. We broke bread together, I love breakfast, as a means of slowly waking ourselves up. Post-breakfast, Erin, Matt, and I took a 45 minute wander in the snow, up and down the hill and through the woods. Narnia was on all of our minds as we walked through tunnels of snow laden trees that we could set free from the weight of the snow with a pull on the branches. Back home, it took only a few seconds to shake off the cold in front of the fire.

I left the house to go help Julia out at the Cedar House. As I left, Matt was up to his ears in flour in the kitchen making bread. I trompled through the snow past the barn where Tim was chopping the firewood that we use to keep our house warm. Inside the Cedar House, Julia was making lunch for the community. I swept the house for a bit and tidied up before everyone came over for tea. The entire community gathered together over pots of Earl grey and peppermint tea. I had S.B. in my lap which kept me warm and altogether satisfied. After 30 minutes of sipping tea, everyone dispersed. I got S.B. and S, her older brother geared up to go play in the snow. I was warned that they might not make it past 15 minutes but, 45 minutes later and they were still delighted to be surrounded in the white fluff. We reached the door and little S.B. was very adamant that she wanted to stay outdoors.

Lunch was magical tomato/peanut sauce with brown rice and a large salad. We picked a discussion topic and bantered on about it, back and forth, over the next hour and a half. Dessert was freshly made banana bread and folks with intolerances, like me, were treated to dishes of just-cut fruit - pears and oranges. It was delicious. Angela and I helped clean up and then the second part of the day began.

It's up to me to do all the laundry in the house - all the laundry for around nine or ten people. I worked on some towels but really didn't have much to do. I meandered upstairs quickly where dinner was being made and bread was being freshly pulled out of the oven by Matt. Down the hall, the other kitchen, Liz was stirring her granola as it toasted in the oven. The collision of smells sent my body into a joyous frenzy of warmth and giddy.

We all hang out in the kitchen, right by the fire. Angela and Matt were making pasta with a basil pesto sauce. Over dinner, we all talked about why we are all here.

It's hard to relate the connection in words. I can tell you what we did, but I can't spell out exactly how I want to tell you about how I feel about this term's group, so far. They're the sort of people that I find myself skipping through the woods in the snow with, all of us singing at the top of our lungs.

L'Abri is a place where you can have long, meaningful connections without ever feeling like you're in a rush. The same conversation can go on for hours and then, the next day, you could pick up where you left off. People aren't afraid to ask challenging questions and while small talk is present, it can more easily be skipped over after days and days of spending all of our time together.

After dinner, we were planning on watching the American  vs Canadian men's hockey team game at the Olympics but we never really got around to it. Music was made, something I always enjoy. We gathered around Ingrid Michaelson tabs for a mini sing-along. Liz prompted Matt, our resident Texas historian, to tell us the history of the Alamo and we all sat in silence, listening to him recount the history of Texas.

I thought my night was over at 11 PM as I bid farewell to the crew gathered in the kitchen - Liz, Matt, and Tim. I thought it was - until Liz asked if anyone wanted to go our for a walk out in the snow. How could I turn down a night walk? We geared up and I grabbed my head lamp before setting off into the silent night. We found ourselves contently marching down a side trail in the woods, totally surrounded by peace and beauty, absolute perfection. It was around an hour later that we made it back home to settle into silent sleep.

I love L'Abri.

I love that we don't rush to computers to look thing out. I value that possibilities of having access to instant knowledge, but it's nice to have it taken away for a bit. The other day, when ready, I came upon a word I didn't know. I grabbed the dictionary. We'll ask each other reference questions and learn from the knowledge of each other. The conversion of Fahrenheit to Celsius took up half of an entire breakfast discussion as we tried to figure out how how 120 F really was. If you don't know something, you can find it in a book. You can ponder. You can write it down for later.

I am thriving here.
I am growing.
I feel loved.
I feel love.
I am grateful to be here.
I am back home at L'Abri, the shelter.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Dear Alex :: First Day Driving - 6 hours later...

Photos by Ian
 Dear Alex,

The whole day wasn't all horrible and snowy and dark. In fact, most of my day driving was idyllic. This morning, he was swell enough to come over at 9:30 AM, despite being exhausted, and joining me in Tobbit for my first voyage. We would be going from North Seattle to Bowen Island.

The normal route would take only a few hours, but that was via I-5 which I had done plenty of times before. Being a new driver, I wasn't really up for I-5 so I crafted up an alternate route that wove around the countryside.

The sun was on our side and, truly, the entire day went smooth. I'm just throwing that out there now.

The road we ended up taking was Washington state route 9. It runs parallel, sort of, to Interstate 5 but is a whole lot more awesome. I loved it because I was able to relax with few cars ever, ever before or behind me. I liked hairpin turns and narrow bridges.

I feel in love with each little town we would pass through, wishing I had time to linger in each one and meet the people who had chosen to call that place home. I wanted to know want had drawn them there and what kept them from leaving.

Having my brother with me was quite the honour. Ian took off two days from work to accompany me up North and that's something I'm really grateful for. In the eight or nine hours of travel, I was grateful for the conversations we had and the opportunity to get closer to him. I really love that guy -- a lot. He's awesome.

The driving went smoothly and Tobbit handled well like a champ. Shifting has become second nature and I love the process of listening to Tobbit and figuring out what gear will fit him best for which situation.

Once in Canada, we hit Abbotsford which is where the traffic started. There were lots of starts and stops, hills, traffic, lanes, and merging. I learned to feel calm in the right hand lane, just sort of trucking along. My favourite was to get behind huge truck (not right behind - but sort of behind). For the longest time, Ian and I found ourselves behind a Coca-Cola truck. See, the great thing about that is that they don't go to fast and, because of that, I'm not expected to go too fast. People can't expect me to go faster because I truly am not capable of doing such a thing. If I went any faster, I would slam into the truck and that would cause havoc and death. Voila!

On the long stretches of hilly-highway, going upwards, Tobbit didn't exactly cruise up with grace like the new cars, but he did putter up in his own style and I never felt unsafe. I knew I was doing my best and the world was aware and kind. Merging, something I used to fear, became one of my new favorite games. I love letting people merge in front of me! I would now consider it one of my hobbies.

I got to practice my parking in real life situations as well as starting and stopping on a hill. I got to work on slowly easing up to booths (customs -- hoorah? -- was done three times from USA to Canada to USA to Canada...).

I feel like I'm starting to get a handle on this driving-thing. I wouldn't say it's my favourite, but I'm starting to get it. I don't feel nervous any more in just about any situation. There are times when I need silence to think through an intersection, but I feel a lot more confident.

Thanks for teaching me to drive and having me practice getting on and off the freeway the other day, it helped a lot. I appreciate you.

Hope all is well with you and your studies,



Dear Alex :: Driving with Tobbit in the Snow (THE DRIVE OF DEATH!)

Dear Alex,

Yesterday I got my driver's license.
Today I drove around 200 miles.


I'm not sure where to start, with the drive up to Canada or with my final drive from the ferry terminal up to L'Abri - the DRIVE OF DEATH! which left me shaking for at least 30 minutes after I finished.

Fresh on my mind is the final drive of the day, so I'll start there.

Getting to L'abri went just fine. It was a whole day on the road (more on that later) and everything was beautiful. Ian joined me for the ride up and spent some time at L'Abri with us. At the end, it was time to get him to the ferry so he could get to the mainland.

Mid-meeting, at L'abri, it started to snow. While snow is generally something I celebrate, in this case, knowing I would have to drive, I wasn't too keen on it. They said it wouldn't be bad - that it wouldn't stick, but things were different on the road.

First came the steep hill that's closed off most of the time because it's too steep. We made it down fine, my car seemed to go extra slow, so I was grateful. At the bottom of the hill, though, I got pretty worried.

Really worried.

And I really, REALLY, wanted Ian to just hitchhike. This wasn't because of time or because I was lazy. I was genuinely scared of driving. I wish I had listened to my instincts and told him that I valued our safety over his comfort.

But he gave me a bad time, telling me how sick he had been feeling, so I went ahead with it. Ian had been getting over being sick and was feeling pretty miserable. I`m really grateful he came with me even after how off he was feeling. Still, I was wanting him to hitchhike into town. It's an easy trip and a guaranteed success. I've never been let down. But he didn't want to get in a car with a new person or... I don't know.

So I drove him.
And it was scary.

The snowflakes were thick and I could barely see the road. I'd only drive at night two other times and only one was in the rain. Now I was going around bends and turns with limited mobility. I did not like it at all. I hated not being able to see. There are no street lights.

We got the terminal fine and I dropped him off. As we were turning around in the parking lot, I realized that there was an odd smell - my emergency break had been on the entire time. Oi. Not good. Not good.

Dropped him off.
Headed back.

This would be the hard part. Tobbit can sometimes barely make it up hills in the rain, let alone snow. I'd never tried him in the snow before.

Turns out it's not great.
Turns out going up hills without chains is not great.

The visibility continued to get worse as the flakes got larger. There would be unexpected turns and I could barely see the road. I spent the time praying out loud.

Then came the big hill. The snow was piling up on the road and Tobbit could barely make it up the first stretch. Then I got disoriented and ended up on the wrong road. I wasn't sure of where I was and already stressed out to the max. I breathed a few times, prayed, and started to turn around.

It was a narrow road with a ditch on each side. If I went forward too fast or backed up too far, I would be in a snowy ditch far from home in the dark without a cellphone. I slowly maneuvered myself around, prepping for the last stretch.

Even in first, Tobbit barely moved an inch as I revved the engine.

Slowly, so slowly, he moved up in first gear. Nothing could speed him up and I was so, so certain he was going to quit. The RPM's got up high and roared as we inched up the mountain. Turning my wheels did absolutely no good. I had no control.

It was part way up that I decided to turn on my hazard lights and make it my mission to not slide off the road.

Somehow, somehow, we made it to the crest of the hill. I'm not entirely sure how, but I got there. You have to imagine pressing the pedal down and only moving 10% of the time and, each time you move forward, it's a few centimeters.

Then came the down hill slope.

For all that upwards, I had to go down a bit. Steep down. The kind of steep you don't want to do in a little truck that you just learned how to drive.

I slowly, slowly eased him down the hill, still in first, hoping I wouldn't make the quick turn to the left that I knew was coming up. I feared turning left and sliding sideways with absolutely no control.

Once again, things worked out. Tobbit slid - the breaks did little good - but I made that turn and then powered myself up the hill. I knew it wasn't a good idea to go fast, since there are a lot of turns, but it was the only way I would make it.

A few more hills, each time barely making it, and I was back at L'abri.

I'm grateful Ian came but, honestly, I'm pretty peeved that he obliged me to go through that. I should have gone with my gut feeling.

When I turned off Tobbit, I couldn't stop shaking and crying. I made my way back to the Cedar House, having it pretty together, but broke down again. Luckily, they were all really kind and let me talk myself down.

Great first day out on the road, eh?

I think I'll write about my first road trip in another letter. This seems to be enough for now.



I Now Posses the License to Operate an Automobile

Just about 20 minutes ago, I drove on the pavement in an automobile without another human with me inside.
Just me.
In a truck.


You guys - I can drive now -- legally. I have a license.
 (and I sort of hate it sort of love it)

Driving still freaks me out like nothing else. It makes me feel guilty (sorry world!) and anxious. This is all in comparison to my bicycle that always leaves me feeling like an absolute superstar, even when super soggy when I get to Point B.

But, I've got Tobbit, my '81 Volkswagen Diesel Rabbit Truck - and I've got plans to live in him. I've got it all set and ready. I've invested the cash. He's ready. I'm ready.

All that was needed was that I could drive - which I can, now.

No idea what's going to happen. I got my license today and tomorrow I'm doing a 4 hour drive up to British Columbia - I figure it will be a good way to practice. 168 miles.

168 miles needs about 5-6 gallons of gas. That will cost around $21 with diesel being $3.85 in my town. That's actually not too bad at all for two people and a home to go up the extra-long way to Bowen Island.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Dear Alex :: I Can Drive

Alex helped me buy Tobbit, fix Tobbit, and learn to drive Tobbit. Now I want to tell him everything that has to do with driving Tobbit.

Dear Alex,

Today I got my driver's license and then... I used it.
On the road.
By myself.
And the road had other cars on it with people driving them.

First I had to drive down to the "main road." It was pouring rain and pretty miserable weather - awful weather for a first drive. The last car I had driven was automatic so I did that thing called "shifting without putting in the clutch" and Tobbit hated that. I felt awful. By the time I got to the place, I wasn't feeling so chill.

I was just dropping off Tobbit to get his wheels aligned just as you suggested. It was a good move. They gave me the numbers and angles that the wheels had been off by. I decided that I love Les Schwab. They give me free popcorn. If I had known that earlier, I would've hung out there more often. Maybe someday I can someday have a place where people can come and eat free popcorn.

The drive home was where things got interesting.

Really, I was just 1.4 miles from home. I just had to take a few turns and I would've been home.

But then.. well... I didn't like certain roads and wanted to avoid certain places... it became 3.9 miles. Were this not the internet, I would put up a map. I did realize how ridiculous it was until I put my car in park. It's like running around the house three times to get into the back door when you started off on the front steps.

It was a good experience, though. I felt pretty calm as I was driving and things went well. I got to start and stop on hills and make sharp turns while shifting. I'm not cocky. I'm not the best driver. But I'm hopefully on my way to becoming a calm, responsible, safe driver who makes good choices on the road. I don't plan on being a regular car commuter (I don't like them!), but I want to be able to drive without fear.

I got my license today.
Tomorrow, I drive for four hours to British Columbia.
We'll see how it goes.

Thanks for all the time you've invested to getting me on the road,


40 Hours till Bowen Island

States, Canada, States, Netherlands, Switzerland, Korea

I feel very eager.
In around 40 hours, I'll be back on that ferry to Bowen Island up in British Columbia.
I'll be snuggled up in the wonderful community, L'Abri - the Shelter.

I'm keen to see what sort of time this will be. Clearing all expectations and approaching with joy.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Helena und Maggie Besuchen Finland

Lately I've been scanning in all of my old documents, creations, letters, notes, and scraps of rubbish that 12-year-old me thought I might want to hold on to (Kellog's Frosted Flake's lid anyone?). Here's a comic that I made with Helena back in Switzerland some 6-7 years ago.

Helena and Maggie visit Finland.

We need sunglasses because the sun never sets.

We buy new clothes because we forgot ours at home. Oh snap!
"Schildkroetenfrauenlauf" translates to turtle-women-run.

Drinking Rivella on the train.... there is absolutely no Rivella in Finalnd.
What's wrong?

The rail breaks. Now, everything is dead. Oh no.
Now, Finland has many ghosts in heaven. Hoorah!

"Is there still place in heaven?"
"Yes. Welcome. I love cats and babies...."


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