Sorry! Just got a little distracted. Gimli was barking at Ferg. A high pitch bark every two seconds is his distress call and usually means Ferg is being annoying. I went to investigate, only to find that Ferg had Gimli trapped on the stairs. It didn't make sense to me as to why Ferg thought Gimli needed to stay standing on the stairs, but apparently it made perfect sense to Ferg. A look of chagrin and a finger point made Ferg back off and Gimli was then free to use the stairs at his leisure.
Walking back to the computer I noticed how slippery my new "too cool for school" socks are. Well it didn't take long for me to start experimenting with trying to further the distance I could slide down the hall. The dogs, worried for my safety, tried to block my run/slide path, but I got around them. My absolute glee at sliding started freaking Ferg out. He was running behind me panting up a storm. What I was doing didn't make any sense to Ferg, but it did to me!!!!
I finally put a halt to the sliding fun, for fear Ferg was going to take me out. I could vividly picture the awkward conversation I would have to have with emergency personnel. "What exactly where you doing when you dislocated your arm???? Sliding down the hall in your socks????? How old are you again??????"
Now I am back at the computer and am still stumped what to write about. If you were here in the room you would be treated to some delightful humming, as I have an irritating habit of making up tunes while I think. I even made some tea, hoping a hot beverage would stimulate my brain, but nope... nothing... butkiss.
Hmmmm......
Hmmmmmm...........
Oh! Hot off the presses. Did you know that "True Dat!" and "Good times.... good times!" is cool again!!!!
I know....... RIGHT!
I am just waiting for "like" to come back in style. Like, it was totally awesome when, like, that was all the craze.
A friends' teenage daughter was catching us "old foggies" up on what is hip and coolio at the Christmas dinner table. As soon as the words true dat were out of her mouth I had an instant flashback to a trip I took to New Zealand with a high-school friend in the early 2000's. She went to present at a conference on her PhD research, I tagged along for the fun. There were many good times on the trip and the phrases "True Dat" and "Good Times, Good Times" were used a plenty! The good times started as soon as we got into the airport. I was a little disorientated, what with the limited sleep and time zone change.
When discombobulated I do very weird and random things. All I remember is walking past a phone and receiver flying out of the cradle to land harshly on the ground. Looking sheepish I picked up the receiver from the floor and looked to the left then the right before placing it inconspicuously back in the cradle. Unfortunately "the exploding phone" incident did not go unnoticed. It caught the attention of a fellow traveller and he felt compelled to come over and start talking to me. He then offered to split the cost of cab with us.
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| Me- Vanna Whiting the phone number. It doesn't happen often, therefore had to be recorded for prosperities sake. |
I remember him asking us if we were on a holiday break from school.... it made me laugh as I was quickly approaching 30 at the time. He must have enjoyed our conversation and my ability to make phones explode as give me his number..... you know.... in case we wanted to tour a sheep farm during our stay.
I wonder what I did with that number??????
The next day had us hightailing it to the rendezvous spot. See Moojio and I had signed up to do an overnight back-packing trip in the mountains. This adventure started out rocky. None of the participants had any gear (we thought it would be supplied). The side door of the van that was transporting us kept randomly popping open while we were travelling at highway speeds and doing hairpin curves. Just a smidge nerve racking when you are sitting adjacent to the offending door.
We finally arrived at the trial head and the first .2 km were fantastic then it went to shit pretty fast. See no one had told us about the river crossings. There were no bridges. Nope in New Zealand to walk through the rivers that are raging with spring run off from the mountains in the middle of a downpour is I guess an everyday thing.
You are probably thinking.... "You had to cross a river.... big deal. That was exactly what I thought at first. "It's an adventure." "You got this!"
The group took off our shoes and socks on the edge of the river and took the plunge. Sure we couldn't feel our feet after the first three steps, the rocks under our feet were slippery and the water was up over our knees and there was a very fast current.
No biggie! We made it across! We were victorious!!!!!!!
Conquering the river made me feel ready for more adventure. What else could this mountain trail throw at us?
Well we found out after six more steps... ahhhh another river to cross.... and another one... and another one... and another one. If I remember correctly- 27 crossing in total. The water level rose with each crossing and constant rain did not help lessen the force of the river. At one point our guide.... who was fresh off the plane from England!!!!!... told us that we should undo our hip straps at the particular crossing as the water was up over some peoples waists and there was a risk we could be sucked into the current. He told us to stay together as a group and if someone fell in they were slip their arms out of the pack straps and the next person in line was to grab them. The group was working our way around the face of a cliff clinging to rocks and hoping for a positive outcome. I was concentrating on staying with the person in front of me and not falling in the frigid water when I glanced over my shoulder and realized that there was a very large gap between myself and the next person in line.
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| Some of the river crossings to give you an idea |
I was doubly nervous now that my safety net was gone. I am happy to report that we all made it. One of the members came very close to falling over the edge of the waterfall that we had to traverse, but thankfully one of the people close to him was quick and pulled him to safety.
There was joy and jubilation when we reach "the Hut" which would be our home for the night. This should be the the spot in the story where I am reminiscing about finally feeling safe and warm.... but no! I had a new fear.
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Fuckin' possums.
New Zealand is great! There are no poisonous snakes. No predatory animals that might eat you or eviscerate you and leave you for the dead. But they do have possums. Possums freak me out. Really anything that hangs upside down and above my head freaks me out..... bats, sloths... I have the hee bee gee bee's just thinking about it.
Anyhoo, I am unpacking my bag and getting out my sleeping bag when one of our group comments- "Ohhhhh cute.... look it a possum! Look it wants to come in."
There was a myriad of thoughts that flashed through my brain as I stood frozen to in place. There was only one door in and out and the possum was in my way. I frantically start looking for another exit. I was dancing around and my panic was starting to overwhelm me. What if it gets in..... what if it touches my head..... fuck..... Fuck.... FUCK!!!!.
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| The views totally made it worth it... even with the possums |
They did! Crisis averted....... until I had to pee!
The hut did not have a washroom. You had to walk about 300 yards back down the trail to the outhouse to relieve yourself. I tried to hold it, but by bed time my bladder was about to burst. I donned a headlamp and headed out into the night. I would much rather have faced a bear or a cougar as my foe. Why did it have to be a possum. I scanned from left to right before it sunk in the possums would be in the trees and if I caught the glint of the eyes hanging above me, there would be no hope. I would pee my pants where I stood.
I did what any self preserving person would do. I pointed the beam of the headlamp straight at the ground and started talking "No possum... no possum... no possum... no possum". I kept this mantra going through the long walk to the outhouse.... the whole time in the outhouse.... through the minute and a half that I needed to brave opening the outhouse door (fear that there would be a herd of possums waiting for me on the other side had me momentarily paralyzed) and during the long walk back to the safety of the hut. I escaped unscathed.
The next day the Guide would point out possums in the distance. I looked him in eye and said "That is a feral cat (another thing New Zealand has)!" He started to reply- "No" when I cut him off. "We will just say anything that comes out of the bush that is not a bird is a feral cat. That is the only why I am keeping my sanity." There was no further mention of possums.
Good times.... good times!
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| Just think there could be possums lurking anywhere out there! |
Epilogue-
Last night I started watching a movie that was recommended to me "Hunt for the Wilderpeople". It was filmed in New Zealand so the recommender thought I might enjoy it. There I am sitting there la de da de dah watching when all of a sudden there is a dead possum. Ahhhhh! The flashbacks started. In total there were three possum carcasses in the movie and too numerous to count possum pelts. By the end of the movie I was a little on edge- what with all the surprise possum sightings.
I turn out the lights and lay there trying to put the possums out of my mind. They kept prying their way in. I kept trying to replace "the image" with something else. I lay there drifting and dozing trying to expel possum thoughts when all of a sudden there is something warm, soft and furry grazing my leg and foot. I scream and kick- thinking it was a possum (New Zealand possums are very soft... a story for another day). As it turns out it was the poor cat. The one time he does not announce himself when jumping onto the bed and he gets nailed. The poor dude!
If you need me I will be at my possum survivor support group!
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