I’ve become one of them.
Since coming back from France, I’ve turned into one of these “not much to say” people.
Feng and Mark have been “not much to say” people since they flew back from Brazil. It drove me crazy on Skype. “Come on guys, share something, anything!”
But it wasn’t them. Sometimes, you do have nothing much to say.
I get up, check my emails, have a cup of coffee, hate-read the news, go for a walk, work, have another cup of coffee, go to the gym, work, consider asking Mark to make me another cup of coffee, cook, work, eat, sleep, repeat.
Basically, I have plenty of life stuff to do and nothing very interesting to write about.
I didn’t have the slightest hint of a culture shock when I resumed my Canadian life—I know the environment, the language, the local quirks and that spring doesn’t start in late April, nothing new here. I knew what to expect and frankly, Ottawa isn’t exactly an unpredictable city—trust me, when it does surprise me, I write about it. These days, it’s just kind of grim.
So this time, there isn’t much to write about.
I complained enough about how ridiculously expensive Canada is now. I’m not as excited as I should be about trees growing leaves considering I spent winter in a country where giant trees grow trees and that it was already spring in France. I’d love to share a few of my complete WTF moments when I read the many, many emails from Mark’s school but it’s safer to pretend to be “engaged as caregivers” and “connected to our great diverse and inclusive community” until he completes grade 9.
I swear nothing exciting worth sharing happened… until a couple of days ago.
Spring is springing this week, so rabbits are showing more imagination than any married couples in suburbia and birds are nesting.
Our address must be listed in the Lonely Planet’s Guide to Nesting in Ottawa because every year, they either build a nest inside the bathroom vent (it terrified Mark when he was a toddler) or on top of the porch light. This year, Feng even bought a birdhouse to encourage temporary home ownership because the nest invariably falls from the porch light and it makes us sad.
And yesterday, as I was leaving for the gym, I found a tiny squirrel on the porch.
Most critters run away as soon as they spot a human, except rabbits who just freeze and pretend to be invisible. But the squirrel didn’t move—instead, it started climbing on my shoe.
“I’ll give him some nuts,” Feng decided.
He ran in, came back with a few almonds, and left them on the ground.
But the squirrel seemed puzzled.
Apparently, he had no idea how to eat them.
So I grabbed the almond and taught baby squirrel to hold it by himself.
The squirrel came back the next morning and today again. It seems to be doing well—it’s a big bigger, faster and less clumsy, less easy to pet as well.
I’m proud of my baby.
I hope it will have a happy squirrel life.
Je comprends à 100% ce que tu veux dire, parfois il n’y a juste … rien à ajouter haha. Combien d’années d’école reste t il à Mark dans cette école ci ?
Deux, deux ans! Mais, pour être honnête, je ne sais pas si ça sera meilleur ailleurs. J’espère…
Garde tes portes fermées.. j’ai fait pareil quand je vivais à Dorion et le ptit mosus s’est mis à entrer chez-moi! Cute mais destructeur 🙂
Oui, j’ai pris ta suggestion et j’ai raconté ça à Mark! 😆
I’ve often heard that squirrels in North American towns are considered nuisibles. Squirrels are just rats with a good PR team.
And, yes, there was a snowstorm in Montana yesterday, between Lewiston and Great Falls. However, today is nice. I’m just stuck before the border because I’m missing a paper.
I don’t mind mouses and rats to be honest 🙂 I had a pet one when I was a kid.
It’s a bit late in the year for a snowstorm, isn’it? Did you make it across the border?
No, the thing I need has been send by mail to where I am, just before the border. It should arrive in the beginning of the afternoon.
Mail? No fax or email??
C’est pas un truc qu’on fait souvent, mais là, je transporte un petit camion d’occasion qui a été acheté aux États-Unis par une entreprise canadienne.
Or, il faut faire étamper le titre de propriété original par les douanes US pour signaler l’exportation, sinon, il n’est pas possible de le faire immatriculer au Canada. Et je n’ai pas cet original, il était déjà à Calgary. Donc, j’attends de le recevoir, il a été envoyé au relais routier où je suis.
J’ai le numéro de suivi UPS, et donc j’ai vu qu’il est parti hier de Calgary, arrivé à Denver, Colorado, puis Ontario (la ville, pas la province) en Californie, puis Billing dans le Montana, et enfin le colis a embarqué dans une fourgonnette de livraison à Cut Bank, à 20 minutes d’où je suis, ce matin.
C’est un peu ridicule. Le propriétaire aurait pu simplement amener le titre à la frontière hier, ça aurait été plus simple.
C’est clair… le coin est sympa pour attendre?
Non, c’est assez nul. Enfin, pas horrible non plus, j’avais accès à des douches, toilettes, nourriture, … donc bon, ça va.
Mais j’aurais su à l’avance, je serais resté à Great Falls.
Après, j’ai reçu le titre vers 12:30, et j’ai pu passer la frontière et livrer dans la foulée hier soir.
Yay, on the road again!
Prochaine étape?
(Faut m’excuser, je bouge pas à Ottawa… je voyage avec toi!)
Dans l’immédiat, un truc de Vrai Mec™ : lessive. À la lavande.
La chance. C’est jouissif, la lessive. Enfin, après l’avoir faite.
Please do write about the WTF emails from Mark’s school. I am sure it is similarly to mine LMAO!
Now that you are the official squirrel whisperer, please come to my house so you can tell to not eat my growing strawberries 🙂
Also we need to catch up soon!
You’re growing strawberries? Forget about the squirrels, I’m about to become your worst nightmare! 😆
Are you free next week?
LMAO!! Just to warn you, my strawberries are capricious. Sometimes they come out a LOT and other times they tell me F*** you and just stay green and small lmao!
I have time. Text me and we can figure day/time 🙂
I’ll Whatsapp you 😉