Finishing up in boatland

Hey, humans!

I’ve been quite busy. Turns out when global pandemics destroy your minor plans, there’s not much else to do but quietly despair for a moment

or five

and then! FOR PLOTTING!

All the plots. All of them.

Some intrepid characters have been inquiring about the new adventures I’m embarking on. New adventures? NEW adventures?

photo credit: @qdonleavy, on the Agnes and Dell

First of all, best beloveds, lettuce be clear that adventures are stupid.

Adventures are when your plans have failed, or come to naught, and all of a sudden THIS HORRIBLE UNEXPECTED THING is happening, it’s so uncomfortable and makes a good story but where we’d rather all be, best beloved, is in a cozy bed drinking tea. Warm, dry. Good books.

No stories for us, oh no.

From the deck of the Angelique

Secondly, my dear typically hypothetical but occasionally distressingly actual conversationalist… You really, really don’t understand the depths of my obsession with this trek. Deep. Dark. Horrifying depths. Really it’s better that I walk in the woods so you don’t have to see it.

Someone tell me if these mushrooms are edible. Don’t worry; I won’t eat them. My mushroom book is just buried somewhere in the car and is hard to find. Pls halp.

What I mean, small greenpeace, is that everything I do pushes me a little farther towards insanity my end goal. Which is pooping at twenty-mile intervals around the entire North Atlantic Ocean.

Every time I think of this, it gives me satisfaction. I’m, like, a quarter of the way there. I’ve got this. BUT IN CASE YOU DIDN’T NOTICE

THERE ARE OCEANS IN THE MIDDLE

Oceans

and oceans are super expensive to cross

EXPENSIVE

and I quit my job four years ago to be a homeless vagrant with made- up jobs. Which is working. I think.

yehhhsss working

So, like, maybe you’re all special with your special magical life savings and well-paying jobs or secret Aladdin caves of sparkly treasures, all up in your deserts. Whatever. Yours truly over here has to figure out how to make this sustainable when I can’t afford things like basic healthcare, etc, etc, ‘Murrica because due to my lifestyle choices I mainly exist in the woods, unless a global pandemic is happening.

Then, I get to develop useful skills that will help my communities, and also get me across the Atlantic. It’s a party. You’re doing great.

OH. GREENLAND has been postponed till next year. 1. No smallest plane flight, 2. Helicopter service cancelled, and 3. Greenland gov’t unresponsive to all contact. COVID, y’all. It’s a thing.

It isn’t what we planned, but it may fit in better. This gives me more time to write grants, theoretically. You know. Good stuff, including:

Create less cost for generous donors who are covering what I can’t raise on my own. Get more science. Indoctrinate young and malleable minds, etc, etc. Wholesome things, all. It also means I might get across Newfoundland beforehand, which would definitely make my travelling progress the pretty line I wish it to be.

yehs.

tl;dr: Boats. Science. Pandemic. Hiking?!? ANY BRILLIANT OR DISCERNING INDIVIDUAL SHOULD DISLIKE ADVENTURES.

Finally: music.

The person I’m playing with is Fern, a wonderful human being. We worked on this piano-accoutred boat for a while, and got to jam together twice! Thanks to Helen Edgar in New Brunswick for brilliant lessons in how to do random piano- fiddle accompaniment. I’ve got a long ways to go, but she definitely threw in some kind of madcap foundation.