- See more at: http://blogtimenow.com/blogging/automatically-redirect-blogger-blog-another-blog-website/#sthash.ZOSg03mN.dpuf Katie Nugent Photography: 2008



Our little cabin is under siege. The attacks generally worsen after dark when the bloodthirsty bastards come out of hiding and turn their focus to war.
I’m talking about the gigantic mosquitoes infesting our home.
Nightly Chad and I wake to the obnoxious buzzing of a fleet of mosquitoes desperate for sustenance. Even when we launch a pre-slumber, surprise assault on them, they return hours later. Dressed for combat they arrive, weapons drawn, prepared for mass destruction in true kamikaze form.
For the past three nights Chad and I have sat awake armed with a fly swatter, a headlamp and flashlight, positioned like snipers. Neither of us breathe a word, our one motive is to kill ever last bloodsucker. We have formulated the ultimate kill tactic. One of us sits with our back to the headboard while the other sits facing it. This gives us a full 360-degree swatting range, increasing our odds of fatally wounded enemies.
I am usually the bait, as it has been observed that the bugs favour me to Chad. (Proving I am far sweeter than he) Slowly they become comfortable and land to feast on my blood, but before they bite Chad slaps down the swatter squishing the bastard.
It is always a rush when we get one. But the excitement quickly dissipates when more mosquitoes come to avenge their brother’s death. That’s when the feud turns deadly. Chad and I are constantly slapping, swatting and squishing. I have to admit I find pleasure in slapping Chad. Depending on whether he has pissed me off in some way earlier in the day, the slap will be administered with only necessary pressure or with brute force.
Last night was one of the worst nights we’ve had. We couldn’t keep up with the enemy. So eventually we had to surrender. It was hardest on Chad. He eventually ran to the closet to retrieve a protective hoodie, which he tied so tightly around his face, only his nose was exposed. Of course he awoke to a giant bite on the tip of his shnoze, adding a delightful detail to his already crooked nose.
When he finally hopped out of bed something inside him snapped. Dressed only in his undies he paced around the cabin with his trustee blowtorch, lighting up any winged pest that crossed his path. With every scorched carcass I cheered and Kaz, in response, barked and jumped around frenzied with excitement. The trouble it all seemed very normal. Nothing strange about a underwear clad hubby torching mosquitoes and a wife and dog cheering him on.
I hope these mountains aren’t starting to go to our heads.

I can't get any photos to upload... strange.


attack of the wilderbeast

Carelessness is one of things that creeps into our lives slowly, like mildew manifesting. At first we aren’t aware of it, moving about our days as though nothing is wrong. But over time it can cause havoc, ripping to shreds the very things we need most. Our hearts, our health, our spirits, our relationships seem to be the main victims of our lack of care.
a couple weeks ago, I was rushing to catch the ferry in hopes of arriving in Kelowna by a certain time. Strange how we rush, even when there is no deadline, no one to meet, no reason to be hurried. Perhaps the hurry came from wanting a change of pace or a rediscovery of sanity out in the real world.
As usual Kaz – our dog—chased the car to the end of our long driveway. At that point I always send him back, but in my hurry I didn’t watch him go. I was careless and preoccupied.
At the same time the boys were busy working near the cabin. Kaz always hangs around the worksite when I’m gone, so Chad assumed the dog was playing in the bushes. His attention was focused on the job and he didn’t think twice about where Kaz was. He too was being careless.
Unfortunately, Kaz wasn’t hanging around the worksite. Instead he was off on his own adventure, one that quickly turned dismal.
A few hours later, while walking back to the cabin for their break, Ross and Chad realized the little bud wasn’t tagging along. After a few whistles and calls, he still hadn’t returned. Chad’s calls quickly turned urgent.
Finally, shaking and splattered in dirt and saliva, Kaz appeared. There are many theories about what attacked him, coyote and wolf being the favourites. Whatever it was everyone knows he’s lucky to be curled up on his mat, sleeping off his battle wounds.
At first glance his injuries didn’t appear too severe, even to the vet. But once they’d anesthetized him and shaved his neck, the intensity of the brawl became apparent. Too large surgical drains ran along both sides of his neck, allowing the puss and fluids to drain from the major gashes. The under sides of his front legs were torn up and slashed, evidence of head to head combat, rather than an attack from behind. All around his neck were smaller but deep wounds, showing his opponent wasn’t playing around. Thank god he's doing better these days. He slept for the first few days but slowly he's come around. Nw he's back to his normal self-- chasing after wilderbeasts in the wood, once again.
How he got away is unknown. What is known is that lack of attention and lack of care is an issue that can lead to suffering. So take care my friends—slow it down, take time out for you, your family and your friends.



Since I graduated from high school I have been in perpetual forward motion. Chasing, running, seeking something elusive that I could never put my finger on. In the seven years that have passed since I was a smart-ass kid desperate to escape the confines of the family nest, I have seen much, learned more and played many roles in hopes of finding the part of me that seemed to fit.
And now here I am, all the time in the world with little to do but exam the moments that have come and gone, been pushed or slipped away, or hled with adoration. In the dissection of all those moments passed I have learned in each of them there was a choice to slow down and take part in that moment or to allow external circumstnaces I couldn't control to confuse the moment. Unfortunately too many moments were spent obsessing over the external and the moment passed me by without my ever knowing it was doing so. So intent on controlling the situations had I been, that I wasn't allowing life to play out without my meddling. Of course whether I was forceful or not life always happens, no amount of manipulation can stop it.
But rather than cry over moments lost there is the opportunity to grow and reach deeper, to stop worrying about the things I cannot control. To find the dream job, to be a better person, to find meaning in life isn't going to bring peace/happiness/whatever is desired. It's all a puppet show since none of those things actually make up who I am.
So many times friends, family, strangers ask what I do out there in the woods with no electricity, no water no cable no internet and I didn't really know what to say. At first I felt like less of a person because I wasn't out there banging down doors going after the "big" dream, whatever that is. I felt like less of a person for not working, for not advancing forward. But what I've realized is that I've been given the opportunity to stop doing and start being. In that discovery I was finally able to drop into the moment and the experience and embrace it for the gift it is.
For the first time I'm not worried about the future but believing when the time comes for us to move forward I'll have the ability to do so while remaining aware of the moments taking place.

PS-- I hope y'all don't think I'm going crazy, maybe it's one too many self-help books:)


And so it is,

In all my travels the places that intrigued me the most were the tiny towns and villages tucked away from the beaten path. In these locales it seemed the eccentric, mysterious and down-trodden were spending their days tucked away from the prying eyes of society. In these little spots people can do as they please with only a few like-minded souls watching your every move. From the outside looking in it's a mysterious, eccentric bunch of people all with their own strange story on how they got there.
It's one of the intriguing things about being here. How did all the strange, free-spirited residents come to be in this tiny town? Some have escaped to the area, running from issues that plagued them in the "real" world. Some arrived here in hopes of finding adventure in the mountains and some like me, were brought here not knowing why.
So we all seem to fit together in some way or another. The strange and eccentric mixing with the adventurous and the lost. We all seem to get along, turning a blind eye to each others faults and embracing that which makes the other unique.


The snow has settled

It isn't too often one has the opportunity to make a drastic change in life. Perhaps because change is terrifying. At least it was for me. I tried to get out of this move numerous times, but in my heart I knew it was the right thing to do. After all Chad was given the opportunity to work out there, we were offered accommodation and all signs from the universe pointed to Beaton. No matter how hard I tried to stop the forward momentum, this was happening.
Still, no matter how afraid of change I might have been, I'm amazed to find myself lapping up the tiny moments of pleasure found everyday in this rabbit hole I've jumped into. Yes there are times when pleasure is hard to be found, like first thing in the morning when the fire's gone out and someone forgot to cut enough kindling the night before (I'm not pointing fingers but...) or the moment I realized it had been 4 days since I had showered, my hair was officially glued in a semi rocker/drug addict/hippy do' and I wasn't sure who smelled worse, Chad or I. But these were times I just had to get over and learn to appreciate.
Because if I had fought against the frustrating things, like the snowstorm which blew through town the very day we moved in, forcing us to build a sleigh out of plywood and 2x4s, which we loaded up with all our "stuff" and pulled behind our snowmobile down the 400-metre hill between our "parking area" and the cabin. If I'd thrown my hands up and cursed out the bastard snowgod I would have missed a pretty fun ride, clinging to our belongings, hoping nothing would fall off the "wagon" and praying nothing would break. (only one bowl!) If I had refused to live in a cabin with no running water, I would never have known the sheer joy of being able to pee in the middle of the night while sitting on a toilet, once we'd gotten the water running 6 days later. Even if the water only flows from a garden hose, is freezing cold and I have to fill up the tank to flush the toilet every single time.
It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're out here doing something we'd always dreamed about and we're both pretty happy to wake up to massive snowcapped peaks and soltitude all around, we're building character with every swing of the axe and every pot of snow melted for dishwater. The basic things are a bit more fulfilling and the hard stuff is tomorrow's giggle. At least that's what I tell myself when I can't start the fire and my feet are freezing!
So I'm the first to admit I was wrong in being worried about the move to the bush, I'm excited to be here, but still a bit nervous about all the unknowns. Still whatever unfolds will be an adventure worth taking.
I promise to have photos the next time around, the internet is fussy and I can't stand to wait any longer!!!




It's a funny thing packing your life in a box and moving out of a place you once called home. It can be down right disturbing once you move the furniture and clear out the cupboards. After all this is where all those nasty, grimmy, dust bunnies like to hide, away from the everyday vacuum, mop and feather duster-- not that I actually use a feather duster but anyway...
I have to say I was having some issues with the whole moving out situation. There, hidden in the darkest, dankest corners of our tiny condo, was a build up of filth which I feel could have been implanted by someone trying to screw with little ol' me. I'm a clean gal. I scrub. I vacuum. So where the hell did all this nastiness come from? Not to worry. I went to work on all those trouble spots, blasting those bastards into oblivion. And it wasn't easy. My arms yelled about the torture for days, but alas the condo was cleaned. I was sure that was why I had been feeling frustrated and annoyed. I thought once the condo was cleaned I would be feeling excited about this move to Beaton, BC. Don't know where that is? I'm not surprised. But amazingly it is on the BC map. Look for it.
However, once we'd vacated and our tenant had moved in, excitement was not mine to be had. I thought if I scrubbed hard enough, if I filled all the holes in the walls and cleaned out the fridge, i thought I might feel ready to take the plunge into a completely different lifestyle than the one we currently live in. But let me tell you, I was wrong. The bad feelings got worse as the moving date got closer.
Yep. I'm still terrifed with about moving. I mean really, it's not like I haven't spent the last 6 years of my life hopping from place to place, life to life. But this, this just seems so-- uncertain. This is totally out of my league.
Sure it all sounded fabulous when we were planning the great adventure of 2008. But planning and doing are two completely different things and I'm not sure I really thought this one through.
You can't blame me for being difficult, can you? There are a lot of unknowns out there-- like for instance where am I going to pee at four in the morning? Am I destined to have bad hair the entire time we live there, because we don't have the power to run a blowdryer? What is going to happen if we run out of food and our car won't start? I've got more, some many more worries like what will I do to stay lucid and how will I avoid murdering my husband? Will I become a crazed mountain woman who talks to the trees and gets skiddish around people?
So my dear friends, this is my way of keeping sane. This little blog will be my escape and I want you all to stay in touch with me.
I'll post pretty pictures and I might have the odd insightful thing to say about this experience. But what this is really about is for you all to keep tabs on my sanity and make sure I'm not starting to sound like I've crossed over to the looney bin side. I know normally I'm walking a pretty tight line, so you've got to keep up with me here.
Anyways-- enjoy my adventure-- I hope I will.
xxx kt
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...