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This is my adopted goth fetus named "Cringe". Hooray fetus!
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| The Amazing Adventures of Barnacle Butt and McStinky |
| 07.06.04 (9:53 am) [edit] |
Sit down close, wee ones, and huddle together. For the tale that I am about to tell to you here and now will surely raise the hair on the backs of your necks and send shivers through your spines. I warn you now, that if you are easily frightened, if you are not willing to be plagued by many sleepless nights, look away!!!
Now, we begin......
The sun was shining beautifully, the day we left the city. Having been let off work early, I had the opportunity to pack much of the necessary gear for the trip before my friend, Esmirelda, was able to shrug off the shackles of employment. Then we headed to her place to aquire the rest of our stuff, which included a freshly sharpened axe.
We strategically planned our stops on our way out of town to minimize the time it would take to get all affairs in order. After a much longer time than we had planned, we hit the highway. Our voices rang with anticipation and excitement as we sang to the mixed tape that Esmirelda had made especially for the occasion. Shortly after, we were turning off in Raddison and heading toward Hafford.
After a rather bumpy drive down a windey, ill kept highway, we entered the sleepy town of Hafford. A strange feeling of isolation came over me as we crossed into the 40 km/h speed zone. My eyes searched in vain for some sign of life. But there was none. Not a dog, or cat or squirrel. The cute, well kept houses stared back at us blankly with their expressionless windows. If one were to stop and listen, you could hear the eerie creak of the chains on the empty swings in the school yard, as they swayed back and forth in the gusty breeze.
We drove up the street, our searching eyes trying to make out the names on the street signs. They appeared to be written in some alien language, unlike anything I've seen before, like Turkish....or something. Goosebumps rose on my arms as it occured to me that maybe the elusive residents of Hafford do not like visitors. Perhaps this is a tactic designed to make people feel unwelcome and out of place. I surely did not feel like we belonged here, so it was with relief that I turned down the highway that would take us swiftly from that bizarre little town and closer to our destination.
Finally we turned down the grid road that would bring us to the Redberry Lake Biosphere reserve, and the campground. We drove down a steep hill, breathing in the fresh air, our eyes drinking in the picturesque view laid out before us. The lake was perfect, with a small, white light house on the far side of the shore, and a large island peacefully resting in the middle of the water. We approached the check in stand, giddy with excitement.
It was there that we had our first run-in with Stumpy's family. I assume it was Stumpy's daughter, who manned the booth. As I pulled up and stopped the car, she emerged with her clip board and a multitude of various loose papers and pamphlets. She clumsily approached us and when she finally appeared to have everhthing securely in hand, she looked up and gave me a friendly down-home smile.
It was a very confusing interlude, with many questions, confusion and shuffling papers everywhere. The entire time, my foot was tapping to the tune of the dueling banjo song that was accompanying this rather comical performance, somewhere deep within my brain. Finally, she took our money and pointed in the general direction toward our campsite.
Continued later.....
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posted by: care (reply)
post date: 07.06.04 (1:29 pm)
YER BACK!!!!!!!!!!
...
I missed you
...
*G*
e me...
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IS FEELING...
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