Dear Family (The Blood Family, Not the Figurative Family)

I send you warm internet greetings, Mamushka, Diddy, and Hessica! First matter of business would be: I miss you so much I’m certain you can’t even fathom it! I watched Master and Commander Sunday night (my only time spent alone, thus far), and Edmonton is currently devoid of people who can appreciate my distaste for Russel Crowe and machismo, so no one was able to accompany me in my bellyaching about the film. It’s pretty excellent that we didn’t rent it that one time it wasn’t in at Rogers! Never fear though; I’ve been having loads of fun exercising my independence and convincing myself that there are no serial killers holed up in the oven. Sunday night was my first night sleeping alone ever in my entire life, as Crystal slept over on Saturday after we took in the Disney-licious Beauty and the Beast (I totally fell asleep before the log scene that I’m sure only Jess will remember). We purchased a delightfully yellow fruit called a casaba, and nearly had smoked oysters and chicken on our pizza, but quite frankly, Crystal chickened out (now you have your weekly dose of Grandpa-puns). Despite falling asleep far before a time befitting a Saturday night, we slept in past 10:50, and you’ll be pleased to hear that I showered and was only a couple of minutes late for the service; Crystal should stay over more often. I hope you guys were able to take in the World Cup through the wonders of radio or some such technology; it was a pretty enjoyable game, although France lost partially due to an unfortunate head-butting incident. The French coach looked intensely dismayed, and all of the beautiful black players (who bear a close resemblance to Paris-Ché, by the way) teared up. My wearing of a fuzzy beret seemingly brought Les Bleus no luck at all.















Grandma has officially called four times so far to ensure that I haven’t set the house ablaze or gotten lost wandering the streets of McKernan. Her and Grandpa even brought Sunday dinner on, you guessed it, Sunday, and visited for a while after a birthday bash for Ruth. There are far more opportunities to read now that you’ve evacuated the house; I shall be very literate and well read by the time you return next month. I may be quoting War and Peace and speaking in a British accent. Evergreen is ridiculously spotless at the present moment! On Sunday, I took the windows out of their frames and washed them with vinegar-water, and vacuumed everything twice after having a panic attack that ants might invade the house as they did in the summer of Europe trip 2003. I sanitized everything that might ever need sanitizing with boiling water and various cleaning products, and used the remainder of the contents of the Windex bottle. The exterior of the house is exceedingly clean as well since we’ve had epic Great Flood-style rain yesterday, and lightning nearly struck our house in a truly thrilling fashion; the light bulbs even lit up in a truly absurd manner. When I went out for a rain dance and to rescue Mom’s plants from the menacing downpour yesterday, I wore her red honeymoon rain jacket and it really did melt (I realize the correct term would be bleed, but this would make the red liquid I encountered even creepier than it was) colour. I thought there was blood on the floor for a second, but soon recognized the culprit. It’s drying on the porch as a sort of time out right now, and is looking quite forsaken. When Crystal and I went rolling down hills yesterday after the downpour, we realized that my arms were entirely red, especially my elbows which resembled beets of some sort. Even my underwear somehow was dyed. I forced Crystal Whistle to watch Garden State last night, and we even cooked a dinner of mouth-watering description, to be followed this morning by waffles and milk (note my semi-healthy eating habits; I even ate two apples today for a snack).















I’m slowly making plans to fill up this month somehow without you three here to watch weird movies, discuss Dutch domestic policy, nag me to sleep, play tennis, go for walks at absurd speeds, ride on the swings, etcetera. It’s obviously not the same without you, but I’m making due with those of us Edmontonians who believe that Edmonton is far superior to San Francisco, or perhaps don’t have the cash to visit that fairest of Californian cities. I hope you’ve had a chance to meet Donald Miller, and will in the future meet the governor of Caleeforneeya, since it’s not as impossible as it would seem: Caitlin showed me a picture last week of her left-leaning dad standing next to the Terminator (apparently her uncle is a Republican advisor; I’m not sure why I have remained friends with Caitlin). When you return from adventures afar, I’ll likely have purchased my Dynasty-style wedding dress, undertaken the ginormous task of cleaning Jess’ room, baked lots of cookies mainly for my own devouring pleasure, taken lots of pictures of random things, gone to a bunch of thrilling (hopefully) concerts, sustained the plants’ lives and named them appropriately, received a re-vamped Gazelda, and done lots of strange things without you guys to temper my oddity. I really had wanted to attach an audio clip of me saying “I lurve you,” as I found this highly entertaining last night and recorded it much to Crystal’s chagrin, but I suspect that this would take a bit too much research, and you can just imagine that it parallels the excellence of Friday night’s post-Upper Crust “You ah craaazy!” I’ve yet to lie down in an alley while laughing about the new saying, but I’m close to that point, and Jess won’t be there to kick/ridicule me. Thanks so much for all the love notes! They were very happifying when I got home from work on Saturday, and they’re stationed on the kitchen bulletin board for moments when I wish you were here to say such adorable and hilarious things. I’ll have to make a video soon and post it on YouTube so I can make equally charming statements; there are a few new songs I’ve discovered since your departure that I could set such a mini-film to.















I know that you guys are having the time of your lives in the lair of George Bush right now, but I’ll wish you continued über-fun nonetheless. I really do expect to see zillions of pictures when you’ve returned safely, and hope to hear many California-tales about how you learned to surf, acted like Summer and Marissa (except for the dying part), wore shark tooth necklaces everywhere, used the term “dude” excessively, were crestfallen that you missed the Gay Pride festivities by two weeks, ate tons of sushi, and have developed a strong desire to see an American actor similar to Arnie and Ronnie replace Ralph Klein as leader of our province. As a complete aside, Donald Miller enjoys Ronald Reagan slightly! This was more than a bit appalling, so if you have gotten his contact information since becoming BFFs with him in Portland, you really should tell him that you’re off to investigate the harm that he did to the great state of California in his term as governor. I hope driving is still lots of fun, and not at all exhausting or sickening; I’ve heard some stories from friends about the roads along the coast, but you all have stomachs of steel, so I’m certain there’s nothing to worry about. I would suggest honouring my seat in the Fergus the CRV by placing a cardboard cut-out of my head on it, or storing all of the food there. Jess could use it as a footrest too, I suppose, though I might find foot-grime on my spot, so I hope she’s keeping her shoes relatively clean. I do believe that I should cease this listing off of recommendations and let you all get back to what you’re oh-so skilled at: relaxing, making memories, and enjoying God’s creation and people! I’m praying for you on your journeys, and miss you bunches and bunches! In case you need a reminder: I love you!

Lurve,
Cait

P.S. I love you!

P.P.S. I should be home for some of the next few nights, so a phone call could be attempted perhaps. We should really have an answering machine though; calling would be much simpler, and I wouldn’t have to answer the phone when it was work on the other end!

P.P.P.S. For Jay Jay: ooga chakka, hooga hooga ooga chakka, hooga hooga ooga chaka! Imagine Inuit snowboarders catching fish in their mouths, and dearest David catching TV-cubes while balancing on a train. And David wearing a black trench whilst flying past the silhouette of some larg-ish city's downtown. I know you miss it.















Questions You Could Answer

• Should I go to the Flenders shindig on Thursday next week or go to football? I might see them next Sunday, but perhaps I should see all the Zionites on Thursday at the BBQ as well and meet the talking German wonder. Grandma subtly suggested that I attend.
• Why on earth don’t water-meter-readers read the water meters themselves? The plants were obstructing the door this morning, and one of these fine uniformed fellows went through the chaos that sat on the porch so he could ring our doorbell, and ask if I could do the reading myself. He expected me to know where in the utility room the water meter was! Ha! Crystal and I struggled mightily, and he had to come inside eventually to do the reading himself.
• Are we still A-OK for a family dinner the night Bri gets back before Anne and Tim head off for fun in the sun? Grandma said Irma had agreed it’d be great to get together, although Bri will be totally wiped, and Grandma will likely have it at their place. I’ve marked on the calendar, but perhaps some confirmation would be good.
• How heavy rain can the plants take? I shelter them whenever the rain gets bad, but maybe they’re more resilient than I imagine. So far the Lobelia is looking quite lovely (I pay extra special attention to it because its name resembles ours) and none of the flowers have gone to pot yet (it could be a pun if I mentioned the pots that the plants are housed in).
• Where’s my cord to connect Darwin the Camera to Gandalf the iMac? I suspect that you may have taken it in the SLR case by accident, which is fine, but I just need to know if I should search a bit more or perhaps pick one up so I can have photo-fun. The screen on Darwin isn’t quite large enough to stare at minute details for long periods of time, and my Darwin Jane is full of old photos that I scanned in your absence. (You should look at them in a moment of boredom, if there are any; I found uploading them quite enjoyable.)
• Why are buttermilk Eggos so much more expensive than the other Eggos? I had to purchase original flavoured waffles this morning because the buttermilk ones are far more pricey. I’ll have you know, however, that my shopping fun went quite well, an my total came to an even-steven $9.99. I should act as a financial advisor to lonely family-less students everywhere.
• How was Washington state? As fantabulous as the first time? Have you been mistaken for terrorists? Is Dad growing a beard? Have you been sunburned? Has Jess worn that green skirt every day? How is Fergus the CRV faring? Has Mom fallen in love with various coloured and eccentric objects? Have you seen much art? Is the water swim-able? Are Oregonians as amazing and clean as they sound? How has dining out West Coast-style been? What books on CD have you listened to thus far? Are you almost home yet?

Note: If you’re not Jess, Dad, or Mom, and are quite confused, my family’s on a trip to San Francisco and various other spots on the West Coast of America for a month. I’ve never been apart from my family for more than a grand total of six days, and am currently guarding our house Evergreen by staving off robbers and house-eggers. I’m not really used to being apart from them!