the smiles amid the fails

It occurs to me (well, it's blatantly obvious really) that I haven't taken the opportunity to write about the positive.

Don't be surprised. There are - and have been - a few good things amongst the Cloud of Fail that has been my life over the last third of a year. Yes, it's been that long. No, I can't believe I'm still sticking it out. Yes, I have more determination than I thought possible, considering that I first wanted to fold my hand after week one.

I have to look back and consult some photos to properly remember the good. Bear with me and you may see some smiles.

Michael and I took a trip to London (but not the real one) a few months ago. I was introduced to the terror of batting cages:



At one stage on our journey I declared that I was craving an oatmeal and raisin cookie from Subway, and I demanded to know what he was going to do about it. Ten minutes later he took an exit off the highway. I looked at him, confused, until I saw a sign for Subway. I had long since forgotten my desperate need, but he hadn't. Sweet:



We stopped at an old fashioned diner in the middle of nowhere for milkshakes and hot dogs:



It had a second-hand-junk store attached:




Another weekend we got caught in a torrential downpour on our way back into Sarnia. The streets were flooded and groups of children leapt around on the sidewalks, dressed in their swimsuits and begging cars to speed through puddles to soak them. We did. Fun:




The summer storms were incredible; rolling in suddenly and drowning the landscape before quickly moving away again. That same weekend I accepted a dare to jump out of the car and run to a power pole a few metres away:




I saw the Counting Crows in concert (not that you can identify them), and there was a rib festival with messy results:





We had beer and important conversations at our favourite hotel:





We found a deserted spot of beach to call our own and visited it a few times near the end of summer:





We almost got struck by lightning in one particularly epic storm. We'd jumped out of the car in a parking lot to run around in the torrential rain and whipping wind, thinking the heart of the storm was still a safe distance away. Then a fork of lightning struck a lamp post in the corner of the parking lot where the car was. Sparks flew, the crack was deafening, and one or both of us swore as we ran for cover.



We celebrated our survival of the near death experience with pizza (some more than others):



I tried to befriend a toad that wanted nothing to do with me:



We raided a vending machine and started working our way through the first season of Veronica Mars:




There was a camping trip in a tiny tent:



Marshmallows and AMAZING pizza concotions over a bonfire:




More junk stores, a beach at sunset, and campground visitors:






Michael has given me an excuse to exercise my dormant culinary skills. And when I say 'excuse', it's actually just that he's demanding proof of my long-standing claims that I can cook:



These are just a few of the moments that have kept me sane throughout the months. Without them, I wouldn't have made it. I have been living for the weekends, and I'll continue to do so until something breaks, one way or the other.

The weekends are what I'm really here for. There are more to come, and more stories to be told. Fall is an exciting time of year over here, after all:




I'll get there.