This is an entry I’d partially completed before losing internet access during the move. So let’s travel back in time a bit…
Long, long ago, before there was a road to Tofino, the main town centre in the Pacific Rim was on an island called “Stubbs”.
The road changed a lot. With the road came more industry: logging, mining. The population of the workers gradually shifted over to Tofino, and Stubbs Island, like an unwanted orphan, changed hands many times.
In 1940, the Island was sold to a pair of sisters who ran a hotel and pub, and established the Island’s extensive gardens, including the rhododendrons, started from seed, now towering trees in full bloom.
In 1989, Stubbs Island became “Clayoquot Island Preserve”. The private island is closed to the public except for the May long weekend, when the owners provide for free transportation to anyone who wants to visit the Island.
I should tell you, there are other things we could have been doing. Other things we probably should have been doing… but since we were looking for a reason to procrastinate, we took our friend Sue up on her invite to accompany her to Stubbs Island.
First though, we had to jump-start Sue’s truck. This is the first official cristening of our jumper cables, and the first time I’ve ever jumped a car. It’s a good thing to know how to do.
A short drive later and a quick boat ride later, we were walking down the long government dock to the gardens and silty-sandy beaches of Stubbs Island.
The garden was bursting with rhododendron trees. Not bushes, towering, 100 year old rhodo trees. A carved mossy wood sign declared “Welcome to Rhodo Land”.
These cute little hobbit houses were scattered over the garden space. You could imagine taking shelter in the rain and still enjoying the ocean view and fresh air.
It was great to go with Sue. She’d camped on the Island back when it was open to the public, and she knew where the most interesting places were. We ended up spending a lot of time on the sheltered mud flats, walking barefoot in the unbelievably soft sand.
The problem with procrastination is the job is always waiting to be done when you’re finished with your distraction. There’s no getting away from this one: Kat & I are moving.
After our harrowing, 4 day move across country, this move should barely be a blip on the radar. We are moving next door. We won’t even need a truck because we have no furniture. We’re just packing up the bins we arrived with and walking them about 50 feet away to our new home.
But damn, every cell in my body screams in protest as I force myself through the moving preparation rituals yet again.
Nooo! I don’t WANT to move! I don’t WANT to wrap mugs in paper! Damn you – don’t pack the coffee maker! Leave that cookware out – cast iron pots make this place home!
As tiny as our one room cabin has become, as much as we would adore a couple of rooms with doors we can close, as great a relief it will be to establish ourselves in a place we can call home, we just don’t. want. to. move.
Thank heavens we don’t have to move again in the fall. This was the plan as of last week: move into the teeny one bedroom for the summer while the two bedroom is rented out as a B & B suite, then move permanently into the two bedroom after the tourist season. We were committed to moving YET AGAIN. There would’ve been tears that time, I’m sure.
Very fortunately, the landlord was contacted by a woman so hard-up for housing that she had been living in the campground with her dog and her son. So he agreed to dump the B & B reservations, allowed Kat & I to take the two bedroom immediately and our new neighbour to move in to the one bedroom. Good things all ‘round.
Even better, we’re allowed to gradually migrate our bins over to the new place this week, so we won’t even have an official “moving day”. I already have the key. This will be the easiest move in the history of moves… It’s just hard for other reasons.
We desperately want to feel settled.
And that was our state of mind last weekend. It’s nice to know the worst is behind us. Now we just have a few weeks of unpacking, organizing, getting used paying our own hydro.