In highschool, Becky was one of the "cool kids." Sometimes the "cool kids" are only that because they're better looking than the rest of us, are athletically gifted or they can pass for being 19 (I was the opposite and held steady at 14). Other times the cool kids are considered cool because they really are cool. Sometimes us high school kids get it right and we label someone as cool because they are the full package plus they're just really nice to everyone.
That describes Becky. I remember in grade 10, we had just taken one of those "which job is best suited to you?" questionnaires, and Becky already had it all figured out.
She wanted to be a librarian when she grew up.
Really? What high school kid says that?
You're one of the cool girls, aren't you supposed to say something like club-promoter? Bar-tender? Flight Attendant?
Nope. She didn't seem to worry about what was "cool"- and because she said it so matter-of-fact no one questioned it. I think it was then that it really nailed the "Becky is cool" down for me. She explained that she loved books, so she wanted to surround herself with them in her job.
Sounds good to me.
The day we crashed their camping holiday was a huge highlight for me. We had the most delicious sleep-in followed by a hot shower at their place in Coffs. Scotty took his bff Ruca out for a walk while I reorganized our bags- then we hit the road following the directions Becky had left us to Delicate Nobby Campground in Crescent Head.
We stopped off at Nambucca Heads to take a walk along the V-Wall- a breakwall left open to the public to graffiti the rocks. I'll admit that I was slightly heart-broken over not having anything to put our own mark on a rock. I totally would have painted my shark attack tank top on a rock. It would have gone over big, and then I would've come across random pics of it on Flickr and felt like such a boss (until I remembered that it wasn't my design and I'm just a copy).
It had been ten and a half years since I last saw her. Scotty and I came across this tent-castle (three tents joined together under this "big-top" tarp). Becky flew off her hammock to greet us. Theres this magic thing that sometimes happens with people you haven't seen in forever... it just feels like normal- it could be two months or two decades- and you may have lots to catch up on, but it feels like your talking to a friend and not somebody that you used to know (that song is big down here too).
After meeting her friends, we beelined to the bathroom- we were told there was a phython in the ladies room.
I gotta see that.
Becky said that it had been there for the past few days, and some young girls in the bathroom said that it had been spotted eating a possum the night before.
Welcome to the jungle.
I climbed up on the toilet seat to get some pics/video. Was it strange that I was a little sad when I went to use the facilities later that evening to find that he had left his "perch"?
Perhaps.
While out for a "bushwalk" later that afternoon- I felt an intense pain in my little toe and froze to get a look at what it was. It felt as if I had stepped on a bee. There on the outer bottom/side of my raised pinkie toe was a spider with a red coloured body and dark legs. I did my best to keep my cool and flicked it off as quickly and hard as I could. Becky's friend, Kellie, had turned to see why I had stopped talking mid-sentence. Maybe she could see the horror on my face, or maybe she wondered why I was stooped over my foot. When I told her what had happened, she asked "where is the spider?" As I began to tell her that I had flicked it away, I knew I had made an error: spiders can be venomous here- now we don't know what bit me. Brilliant. All I could tell her was size and colour... and that my toe was throbbing.
I'm not a total wuss. I've been stung a ton, and it's nothing to cry about, but that little spider bite hurt.
Having only met Kellie an hour ago, I tried to read her expression. I didn't want to tell her I had seen red on it. I'm not really sure why, but I was worried that red would mean it could be venomous, and I didn't want anyone getting in a flap about it. As far as I knew, only my toe hurt. Reflecting on it makes me realize that I would be the person who would quietly get up from dinner and move into the other room to choke to death, alone, because I wouldn't want to trouble anyone. I did my darndest to play it down. Kellie kept asking questions about the spider ("did it have a hard body?", "ummm...I dunno"). She was calm about it, but she kept a pretty close eye on me at first.
I figured that if I died, or lost my foot, at least my fear of spiders would be validated; thus, proving that I am, after all, a "glass is half-full" kinda gal.
To this day, there's still a bump on the bottom of my toe, and it only stopped itching last week (it would randomly itch after I climbed into bed at night).The creepiest thing is that after we got home, I looked online at photos of spiders that can be found in New South Wales. I found one that looked identical to what I remember, the male mouse spider... very venomous, but not agressive. A few other tidbits about it that only make me more convinced that I found my spider: 1. they have large hard fangs which causes a deep painful bite (check- very much a stabbing pain) 2. often wanders about on the ground during the day (check- it got caught on my flip flop) 3. especially after a rain (check- it had rained that morning) 4. while their venom is highly dangerous to humans, they are not aggressive- many of their bites do not require antivenom because they are dry bites (check- I didn't die, it just hurt like a mother bear).
It may have been a different story had I not froze with my toes up in the air when I felt the bite go in. Don't worry mom, I'm fine.
But the show must go on.
Becky said that they had found a young brown snake in their tent the first night they arrived (according to wikipedia, it's considered the second most venomous land snake).
Awesome. Three great stories to tell people back home. Increase my "lady danger" image.
With the sun hanging low in the sky, we took the boards down to the beach for an evening surf. Kellie and Keah disappeared past the break wicked fast, duck diving like a couple goddesses. Scotty and I were left knee deep in the water wondering how on earth they got out there so fast. Becky played down her skill, saying that she is awful and that she was just gonna play in the white wash with us (*pops up on every single wave*).
The water was warm and the current pulling us down the beach was strong, but we managed to have a great time in the white wash. Becky and her friends were super encouraging and would yell anytime we would get even close to standing. Steve (Becky's hubby) was standing on the beach with little Esme (Becky's little girl) dying to get back in the water (he's one of those 5am surfer types), and when he got the green light from Beck (who came in to hold Es), he shot over the surf so fast. He made it look way too easy. Luckily no one expects much from Canadians.
We weren't sure if we had time to spend the night, but the entire crew started working on us as soon as we arrived ("it's almost dark out there [nope, it's only 4pm], you might as well spend the night"). They force fed us vegetable couscous, and sausages (Scotty).
Sidenote: they don't call them "bangers" down here, I asked.
We sat and chatted while stink bugs and other insects dropped onto us from the trees (you never knew what it was that dropped into your hair or down the front of your shirt because it was too dark, but every once and a while, one of the girls would let out a shriek and madly flick at some body part). It felt a bit like home. A few of the guys reminded us of some of our friends back in Canada. We just sat there and laughed at ourselves- at the things that make us Canadian and the things that make them Australian, and before we dragged our tired bones to bed, they told us there would be coffee and pancakes in the morning with "real maple syrup" (a total specialty down here).
So we let them feed us breakfast the next morning and they tried to convince us to stay another night.
Oh how I wished we could have.
That describes Becky. I remember in grade 10, we had just taken one of those "which job is best suited to you?" questionnaires, and Becky already had it all figured out.
She wanted to be a librarian when she grew up.
Really? What high school kid says that?
You're one of the cool girls, aren't you supposed to say something like club-promoter? Bar-tender? Flight Attendant?
Nope. She didn't seem to worry about what was "cool"- and because she said it so matter-of-fact no one questioned it. I think it was then that it really nailed the "Becky is cool" down for me. She explained that she loved books, so she wanted to surround herself with them in her job.
Sounds good to me.
The day we crashed their camping holiday was a huge highlight for me. We had the most delicious sleep-in followed by a hot shower at their place in Coffs. Scotty took his bff Ruca out for a walk while I reorganized our bags- then we hit the road following the directions Becky had left us to Delicate Nobby Campground in Crescent Head.
 |
| THE NEWSPAPER ON THE LAWN THAT MORNING |
We stopped off at Nambucca Heads to take a walk along the V-Wall- a breakwall left open to the public to graffiti the rocks. I'll admit that I was slightly heart-broken over not having anything to put our own mark on a rock. I totally would have painted my shark attack tank top on a rock. It would have gone over big, and then I would've come across random pics of it on Flickr and felt like such a boss (until I remembered that it wasn't my design and I'm just a copy).
 |
| JUST IMAGINE IT ON A ROCK |
 |
| IT WOULD BE SUCH A HIT |
It had been ten and a half years since I last saw her. Scotty and I came across this tent-castle (three tents joined together under this "big-top" tarp). Becky flew off her hammock to greet us. Theres this magic thing that sometimes happens with people you haven't seen in forever... it just feels like normal- it could be two months or two decades- and you may have lots to catch up on, but it feels like your talking to a friend and not somebody that you used to know (that song is big down here too).
 |
After meeting her friends, we beelined to the bathroom- we were told there was a phython in the ladies room.
I gotta see that.
Becky said that it had been there for the past few days, and some young girls in the bathroom said that it had been spotted eating a possum the night before.
Welcome to the jungle.
I climbed up on the toilet seat to get some pics/video. Was it strange that I was a little sad when I went to use the facilities later that evening to find that he had left his "perch"?
Perhaps.
 |
| MOM AND DAUGHTER TAKING A BEACH WALK |
 |
| CAMPGROUND/SURFER X-MAS TREE |
 |
| THE KIDDIE POOL FOR SURF BABIES |
While out for a "bushwalk" later that afternoon- I felt an intense pain in my little toe and froze to get a look at what it was. It felt as if I had stepped on a bee. There on the outer bottom/side of my raised pinkie toe was a spider with a red coloured body and dark legs. I did my best to keep my cool and flicked it off as quickly and hard as I could. Becky's friend, Kellie, had turned to see why I had stopped talking mid-sentence. Maybe she could see the horror on my face, or maybe she wondered why I was stooped over my foot. When I told her what had happened, she asked "where is the spider?" As I began to tell her that I had flicked it away, I knew I had made an error: spiders can be venomous here- now we don't know what bit me. Brilliant. All I could tell her was size and colour... and that my toe was throbbing.
Having only met Kellie an hour ago, I tried to read her expression. I didn't want to tell her I had seen red on it. I'm not really sure why, but I was worried that red would mean it could be venomous, and I didn't want anyone getting in a flap about it. As far as I knew, only my toe hurt. Reflecting on it makes me realize that I would be the person who would quietly get up from dinner and move into the other room to choke to death, alone, because I wouldn't want to trouble anyone. I did my darndest to play it down. Kellie kept asking questions about the spider ("did it have a hard body?", "ummm...I dunno"). She was calm about it, but she kept a pretty close eye on me at first.
I figured that if I died, or lost my foot, at least my fear of spiders would be validated; thus, proving that I am, after all, a "glass is half-full" kinda gal.
To this day, there's still a bump on the bottom of my toe, and it only stopped itching last week (it would randomly itch after I climbed into bed at night).The creepiest thing is that after we got home, I looked online at photos of spiders that can be found in New South Wales. I found one that looked identical to what I remember, the male mouse spider... very venomous, but not agressive. A few other tidbits about it that only make me more convinced that I found my spider: 1. they have large hard fangs which causes a deep painful bite (check- very much a stabbing pain) 2. often wanders about on the ground during the day (check- it got caught on my flip flop) 3. especially after a rain (check- it had rained that morning) 4. while their venom is highly dangerous to humans, they are not aggressive- many of their bites do not require antivenom because they are dry bites (check- I didn't die, it just hurt like a mother bear).
It may have been a different story had I not froze with my toes up in the air when I felt the bite go in. Don't worry mom, I'm fine.
But the show must go on.
Becky said that they had found a young brown snake in their tent the first night they arrived (according to wikipedia, it's considered the second most venomous land snake).
Awesome. Three great stories to tell people back home. Increase my "lady danger" image.
With the sun hanging low in the sky, we took the boards down to the beach for an evening surf. Kellie and Keah disappeared past the break wicked fast, duck diving like a couple goddesses. Scotty and I were left knee deep in the water wondering how on earth they got out there so fast. Becky played down her skill, saying that she is awful and that she was just gonna play in the white wash with us (*pops up on every single wave*).
The water was warm and the current pulling us down the beach was strong, but we managed to have a great time in the white wash. Becky and her friends were super encouraging and would yell anytime we would get even close to standing. Steve (Becky's hubby) was standing on the beach with little Esme (Becky's little girl) dying to get back in the water (he's one of those 5am surfer types), and when he got the green light from Beck (who came in to hold Es), he shot over the surf so fast. He made it look way too easy. Luckily no one expects much from Canadians.
We weren't sure if we had time to spend the night, but the entire crew started working on us as soon as we arrived ("it's almost dark out there [nope, it's only 4pm], you might as well spend the night"). They force fed us vegetable couscous, and sausages (Scotty).
Sidenote: they don't call them "bangers" down here, I asked.
We sat and chatted while stink bugs and other insects dropped onto us from the trees (you never knew what it was that dropped into your hair or down the front of your shirt because it was too dark, but every once and a while, one of the girls would let out a shriek and madly flick at some body part). It felt a bit like home. A few of the guys reminded us of some of our friends back in Canada. We just sat there and laughed at ourselves- at the things that make us Canadian and the things that make them Australian, and before we dragged our tired bones to bed, they told us there would be coffee and pancakes in the morning with "real maple syrup" (a total specialty down here).
So we let them feed us breakfast the next morning and they tried to convince us to stay another night.
Oh how I wished we could have.
No comments:
Post a Comment