Tuesday, April 25, 2006

42 Hours Until We Hit the Road Jack


Hey everyone,

I suppose Jack won't really care when we start our travels. . . besides an 8:30 am start with only 12 hours budgeted for sleep and apartment cleaning and final car packing is a more than a little ambitious especially for me. That said - we are close to 90% packed and Gabe has volunteered to clean while I finish my economics course. (Sorry ladies, he's definately taken).

The plan is to head for Ottawa on Thursday and meet up with my "cousin" Liz who I haven't seen since Trudi got married May of 2000 or 2001. All I remember is that it was on a long weekend, and we were stuck in 3 hours of traffic - arriving as the wedding party excited the church in spite of leaving double the time needed for the trip to Saint Catherines. Actually, Liz went to some get together before the wedding rather than the wedding itself, but regardless its been about 5 or 6 years.

The next part of the plan (assuming of course that we don't change our minds) is to head for Barrie (Georgian) via backroads - assumming we don't' decide to drive straight through. Anywho, we are looking forward to a scenic view and and a picnic somewhere between A and B. We are considering podcasting on route too - but regardless I'll take some photos and post them.

This is actually the second version of this post today -the spell checker ate the other one. I have some guest content in the form of haiku poems and a boggy photo - but I'm at school so they may not get posted until I am back home.

I have no idea where the picture came from, I found it on my H drive - its likely an internet image, but it is certainly not mine. I'm hoping to see some soon as we swing back toward the peak of the solar cycle.

I'm not sure what the glow in front of the hill is - unless it is the northern lights reflected on water or something. I miss the North.

Willo-wisp candles -
A flaring curtain dances
Wisdom on my soul

Beckoning fire -
Sky ghosts call my soul howl
Across the distance

Anywho, enough poetry - back to to money, banking and fiscal policy

Jennith

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