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11:38 a.m. - 2005-08-11

Honey Buckets of a different kind

For those just joining me, make sure to go back one entry to the beginning. Otherwise you’ll be very confused, and as that is my natural state – and you’ll get easily frustrated. Return to previous entry, now . . . Or continue . . .

In case you didn’t pick up on my fine non-verbal subtleties – Creation Fest was HOT HOT HOT! Very thankfully though, some of the friends we were with had left a tent at the previously mentioned “free” campground on the banks of the Columbia River about 12 miles from the event. This allowed us a sweet haven of cooling down comfort, and quiet(er) in the midst of it all. As much as it goes against my better judgement, the need to “chill out” was greater, and I bared my larger than life bathing suit clad body to the world – and I didn’t care!!! You didn’t like what you saw, or were afraid of being blinded by what the truth would bare – avert your eyes out of danger. Because I didn’t care anymore!! My soul purpose for living at that point was to cool my body temperature to a level of acceptability and less grumpiness.

I digress . . .

On one of these extra excursions I did something I never thought I would ever do. (beyond the obvious of being seen in a public place in my bathing suit) I learned to use a ‘Jet-Ski’. After falling off a couple of times, I began to get the hang of it. This was fun, and I never wanted to leave the water again! Alas, dinnertime came, and the owner of the watercraft took away my new toy. Thankfully – there are no pictures.

On the other day that we went to the river my sandals gave up the ghost. It’s soul departed from its frame, a dire situation to be sure. I needed my sandals as the only other footwear I had were my boots for travelling on the motorcycle. Again – not an appropriate site connected with the wearing of any bathing gear. So T and I travelled to one of the near town that had anything closely resembling stores. There are many small (under 500 persons) towns in the immediate vicinity. In Quincy I found Wohrton’s Department Store. A veritable plenteous supply of sundry items, but other than one store clerk – the place was a veritable ghost town - possibly due to the heat - possibly due to the size of the town. None-the-less we succeeded in securing a new pair of comfortable, cool, footwear and were in the process of paying when one other lone customer approached the till. I look up, and low-and-behold it’s a friend of mine that I haven’t seen in a couple of years who had since moved to Calgary. K was also at Creation Fest with a youth group from her church.

Who’d a thunk it! That in the small city that had been erected almost overnight, and would be disassembled within three days, that you would run into a long lost pal. We had a brief chat, many hugs and well wishing. Finalizing our purchases and our conversation with a promise to locate the others camp back at the event.

Unfortunately we never did connect up again. But it was wonderful to see her.

When visiting the states I am often reminded of our differences and alikeness. With this in mind – I would like to know who decided to call portable outhouses – “Honey Buckets”. I laugh here because its supposed to be Canadian’s who are the non-confrontation country. We call things names other than the obvious. We call portable outhouses – ‘Port-O-Potties’, because I assure you – there is nothing sweet about these ‘Honey Buckets’, particularly after two to three days in the scorching sun. If I do the math, for approximately 25,000 peoples there were 100 ‘Honey Buckets’ (give or take a few). Which broken down means 250 people used ‘A’ Honey Bucket a day, but you must times that by …. what … the average amount of times a person uses the bathroom is …. Say … 3 or 4?!? Don’t forget - there is no flushing!

Can you see just how much honey was piling up?

I’m beginning to see a pattern here … my last adventure had bathroom or toilet portions, now here . . . . ummmmm …..

I’ll leave that there. Safely tucked away in the back of your minds.

For those of you who enjoy a good shower – don’t think you’ll find one here. Did you know that some brilliant person has developed portable showers? Four Semi-trailers parked in a group of two and two (one hot, one cold – for men. One hot, one cold for women). The hot showers came at a price, but the cold showers were free, besides for the heat of the day – who wanted a hot shower. Not to mention, the average line up hot or cold (for the women) was 2 hours. TWO freakin’ hours waiting for a public – everyone could see you in your birthday suit – cold shower. I don’t think so! Again, this is where we took solace in our home away from home away from home down at the river. Wash our hairs, rinse out clothes, and general other toiletries.

This is where I think I’ll leave it for today. I will move on to the other sites and sounds of our holidays in the coming days. Much to tell, much to see, dieing to share!

Blessings - LJ

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