Flying high

My dad is the coolest ever. I mean, come on. What other dad owns over a hundred harmonicas, pays to download music, and brings up the evils of the liberal party at every turkey dinner? What other dad makes turkey dinner? What other dad can put you in hysterics while explaining a complex scientific theory? What other dad speaks British english with a Canadian accent and keeps spiders in the basement so they won't die in the winter?

Seriously.

I bring this up because I just walked home in the pouring rain, and that made me think of playing soccer at Hodgson Field in the pouring rain, years ago. And that made me think of this story, as related to Kelsey in an e-mail last September. I don't think she ever got the e-mail. Please excuse the reprise of the Lancaster story.

My father owns a place in Ontario, a something of acres. There's an oak tree there, and one day the baby oaks that surround it will form an orchard. There's also a pond, frogs and bullrushes but especially little hills with tall grass all around. I used to climb up the hills and roll down. When you stood on top of one of those hills, you felt on top of the whole world.
Sometimes now we bring the baby trees I rescue from plant pots and cracks in the road. We plant them all around.
Last time I went, I think, was actually a year ago. I took a few pictures there that I thought were kind of cool. That was when I really began taking pictures of everything.
My father and my mother both have red windbreakers. I borrowed one once for a soccer game in the rain, but it soaked up the water and weighed me down. So I took it off and played in the pouring rain. My team won, and by the time the game was over my hands were so cold and frozen I couldn't manage my bicycle helmet. My dad came that day, though, and he stayed the whole time, holding on to the red windbreaker.

I was flying so high today. I couldn't even figure out why. I mean, I had a math test, half of an english test I'm not going to finish on time, a band rehearsal at lunch, French, Science, another math test and I'm not even going to go into MRE. (Thanks to Kaj for coming and sitting next to me in Kim's absence and then making me laugh the entire time, by the way.) Oh, and the habs are playing and it's a very stressful time for hockey fans. I don't have a clue why I was so happy, but I was.

Photography didn't exactly ruin my mood. I love photography. I just always feel torn, like my neutrality is being threatened. There's no safe place in between Alex and the Dark Side. I was also worried that I wasn't wanted and I was getting in people's way, but Chloe said something about how the other two don't get along well. Well, too bad and great, ya know? At least I wasn't the problem.

Well, enough quasi-cryptic inexplanations. I'll end this mediocre post before it slides down any further. (Too late.) Is anything happening this weekend?

Eilinn MacCallum, signing off.

High hopes for the future.