Reykjavik on the horizon

Didn't I fly across the Atlantic just a few days ago?

Well, I'm at it again. I'm only going partway this time though.

This evening I'm leaving Heathrow, bound for Iceland. Cool pictures and stories to follow early next week.

"You do it to yourself...you do..."

Don't ask me why the guy in the picture was wearing a Rage shirt to a Radiohead concert, because I don't know.

Radiohead concert? Radiohead concert. In Victoria Park, a large green area in east London. It was a beautiful evening, though it was a little chilly when the sun went down.

I've been enjoying my first few days in London at a very relaxed pace. I sleep in every morning, get up, have my coffee, and plot out my day. Usually it involves wandering aimlessly about, trying to find a bank machine that accepts my bank cards (none of them do, though they are supposed to work.)

Yesterday Brian's flatmates were supposed to be going to this Radiohead concert. They've been planning it for months, as she's a huge fan. It was her birthday present in fact. Unfortunately, she ended up in the hospital with an abcessed wisdom tooth, and we ended up with the tickets.

So off we went to listen to Radiohead. If you aren't familiar with their music, join the club. After they put out OK Computer, I haven't really paid attention to their stuff. I don't mind them, though, and it's really easy to listen to. The concert itself was really great, and the lights were amazing. You can't see really in this photo, but they had a series of ropes hanging from the top of the stage. Throughout the show they shone lights on the ropes to produce different effects, such as rain falling, or flames, or waves. It was really cool. I enjoyed the lights almost as much as I enjoyed the music. Okay, more. But I like bright and shiny things.

The lyrics quoted in the title of this post are from the only song the band played that I actually knew the words to. :)

After the concert ended, we walked along the Regent Canal. It winds its way along through the most beautiful section of plants, warehouse conversions, and flats. Smelling honeysuckle in the dark, we wandered back to the flat. I love smelling flowers in the dark.

Today I'm off to find some camping equipment for this weekend's adventures in Iceland. Yep, Iceland! Brian has been planning a surprise trip for over a month now, so I'm quite excited. We're going to be camping in one of several national parks outside Reykjavik.

Tonight I imagine we'll end up in a pub somewhere watching the football (aka soccer) semi final match from the Euro Cup 2008. I'm cheering for Turkey, mainly because no one else seems to want them to win.

I love and miss you all. Send me a message to let me know how things are on your end.

Jolly old...thunderstorms

I've resigned myself to the fact that interesting things happen when I travel, no matter how well prepared I may be.  Some things are just beyond my control.  

Saturday morning I left Boiestown bright and early, bound for Halifax and points further east.  Mary Ellen and George were kind enough to give me a ride (and stop at various places looking for stickers and Triscuits) but we left much earlier than needed.  Consequently, I arrived at Halifax Stanfield International seven hours before my flight departed.  

Luckily, I'm easily entertained.  I had my laptop, iPod, book(s), paper, and my guitar. Or did I?  After Friday's champagne and cider celebrations, I hadn't managed much sleep before the trip began.  As I dozed off on a bench beside the door, it occured to me that sleep might be a good idea.

Because I had arrived so early, the airline desk wasn't even opened.  That meant I had to haul my baggage around with me until I could check in.  A guitar case, a suitcase on wheels, and a small backpack are easily managed, right?

Wrong, apparently.  One, my guitar case is a giant, bulletproof, custom made contraption that weighs about seventy pounds.  Two, I had consumed a beer in the airport pub, so my exhausted mind wasn't functioning properly.  Combined with boredom, I was bound to lose something somewhere.

You know that annoying message they play every five minutes in the airport that says, "Unattended baggage will be confiscated by security" (in England they add "and destroyed" to the mix)? Well, that was me.  I comandeered a cart for my guitar case, wandered off down the airport, and left my suitcase sitting by the bench.  

Twenty minutes later or so, I realized I didn't have my suitcase.  Crap.  Actually, that wasn't the word I said, but this is a PG post.  I hurried back down the hall as best I could with my giant guitar case, to find a security guard standing next to my bag, talking on the radio.

One bullet dodged for the day.  At that point, the desk opened and I was able to check my bags.  I cleared security and sat for the remaining three hour wait.  

We had driven through pockets of rain on the trip to Halifax, so I wasn't surprised when a shower blew in. The airport has lovely windows with a view of the tarmac.  I was suprised when a few rumbles of thunder came in.  Then big, jagged flashes of lightning.  A sudden cloudburst, a siren roars, and all the ground crew outside just abandon everything and run inside.  Literally. There were vehicles parked hapazardly everywhere.

A voice came on the intercom, explaining the airport had entered a "red alert" stage due to severe weather.  Everything was shut down. No flights in or out.  No problem, I think.  I wander to the deli, order a sandwich.  Still three hours to go before my flight, and severe weather usually blows itself out quite quickly.  

I had only taken a few bites of my sandwich when the power went out.  Yep, the whole airport.  It took several minutes to restore, as well.  Much grumbling going on.  By the time the storm passed and flights resumed, 
my flight was supposed to be boarding. 

We ended up being only an hour late out of Halifax, and I had the seat to myself.   
The original plan had been to sleep through the flight, but that wasn't an option, given my 
excitement and the turbulence. 

Instead, I watched two mediocre movies, listened to music, and wondered what the heck I was doing. The usual fare.

Touchdown, arrival, safe and sound.  I've managed to eat one meal (fairly good for over 24 hours in England) and sleep through most of today.  I'm off now to meet a friend somewhere downtown and enjoy the sunshine.

Guess where I'm going on Thursday? Stay tuned to find out...

Big steps, little steps

I'd have written earlier in the week, but this has been a rather exhausting whirlwind.

Friday evening I watched my niece (the eldest of the crew) glide around in her beautiful prom dress. She absolutely glowed with happiness, hope, and anticipation. Do you remember that feeling? Fresh out of high school, brimming with plans and potential?

I couldn't remember it. But I did find that lonely empty corner those thoughts vacated. I wish I had remembered to keep them.

Sunday was a whirl of Father's Day wishes, chaos and kids. I travelled into Fredericton to spend the evening with my brother and his family. Asa, my seven year old nephew (with a mohawk) kept me company on the drive. Rather, he attempted to keep me company, but after twenty minutes of various lizard attacks on the dashboard, he fell asleep.

Monday was a long but rewarding day. I worked in a recording studio for the first (and definitely not the last) time. If you aren't a musician, it's a difficult process to explain. Actually, I lie. It isn't difficult to explain, just time consuming. Basically, here's how it worked for me:
I walk in, record a "scratch track" of me playing and singing my songs. Fun. I then listen to it and realize how horrible it sounds. Not fun.
The sound engineer, producer and I break down the song into the separate parts (instruments, vocal, thunder, goats, etc.) Since it was only me and my guitar, that should be easy, right? Heh. This is the part where Joanne laughs.

I then recorded all the music tracks separately. That means playing the guitar for the whole song through, then maybe playing it again with the chords in a different location, or with picking, etc. to make it sound good. For the five songs I had selected, it took me almost five hours to do this. A little less counting coffee breaks.

Did I say coffee? I meant water. Black, steaming, coffee-flavoured water.

Anyway, after the guitar came the vocals, since I'm too broke to hire a bunch of musicians. I sang. And I sang. And I sang. Then, when the vocals sounded good, I sang harmonies. Again. And again. and again. I had told the producer I don't have much practice at harmony singing, and he asked me to try. I hit the first harmony bang on, first try, and he laughed.

An hour later, he wasn't laughing, but neither of us threw anything and all went well. By the eighth hour I was fading quickly, but managed to finish what I started.

So what does that mean? That means I get to listen to my songs all mixed on Friday, and pending final approval, my CD will go to replication. Booya! As soon as I get them, I'll let you know how you can buy them. I wish I could give them all away, but a girl's gotta make a living, you know.

I haven't been posting here as often as I'd like, and for that I apologize. I didn't think you'd want the blow by blow description of the rather mundane days I've had here at home. Saturday, however, I fly over the Atlantic for six weeks of European adventure. Fingers crossed that I'll be able to update this more frequently.

I miss and love you all.

River wide, river low

Those are my painted toenails, perched upon the bow of my father's canoe. I returned to the Miramichi in truth on the weekend, joining in the annual day long river float from Hayesville to Boiestown.

I can't remember the last time I sat in the bow of the boat and let someone else do all the work. It was somewhat nice, but I missed the power, control freak that I am.

My father and I had several other carpenters join the crew and take over the shingling of the house (thank goodness.) This week we're going to build the screens and finish up. When that's done, he's lined up a landscaping project that would take me most of the summer...except I'm not going to be here.

My sister had a little baby boy on June 3, which she named Aubrey Camden. He's a cute little thing, though he doesn't do much more than eat, sleep, and poop at this point.

Next week I am going to attempt to record several songs in the recording studio. It is a first for me, so there is lots to learn, but I'm really looking forward to it.

On June 21st, I depart for England via Halifax. I'll keep you posted on all my overseas shenanigans as they unfold.

To my friends far away, I miss you more than I can say. Man, could I use a bottle of wine and a girl's night!

Construction

This porch is under construction.

Dad and I have been working away at screening in the deck. The blackflies are horrible, so we can't finish soon enough. A small rain delay has allowed me computer time enough to post a little something.

I'm not the greatest carpenter in the world, but it's fun working away with Dad. We go at our own pace, enjoy the weather, and have no deadlines.

Other than building, life in NB is quite mundane. I spend a lot of time visiting with my family. Emily and Julie stop by often with their kids, and Aaron was over this weekend with his family to help with the construction efforts. It's nice to spend some time with everyone, get my Miramichi accent back.

The writer I sat with on the flight from Calgary wrote a feature on me in the Miramichi newspaper. You can read it online at http://miramichileader.canadaeast.com/article/306173 if you are interested. It's funny who you meet in the oddest of places.

If you are far away, I'd love to hear from you about what goings on are going on. I miss all of you dearly. My plans are still up in the air at the moment, though this much is certain: I am here until the 21st of June, in Europe for July, and back to NB the first of August. Rumor has it that I will be in Ontario in August for visits, weddings, and general Abby monkeyshines. Book your tickets now!

Mothers Day, the Miramichi, and Giant Sea Bugs

Mmm, so tasty. Sea bugs from the deep, boiled alive and fresh on my plate. Cracked open, plundered, and dipped in melted garlic butter.

That's how the Pond family feasted on Mother's Day in Boiestown. I've returned safely to my family on the Taxis River. Not to say that a few misadventures didn't occur on the trip east, but I managed to escape unscathed as usual.

I left Revelstoke by Greyhound bus on Sunday last. Roma, Jody, and Lindsay were there to send me off with hugs and tears. It's a good thing they were, because I couldn't handle my luggage all by myself. I could forsee this being a problem later, but at that time I was just so tired of sadness and goodbyes. I couldn't bear leaving, but I needed to get it over with before it broke my heart.

Clutching my scrapbook and avoiding the very grumpy bus driver, I climbed aboard and found a seat to myself. After running out for one last hug, we were off. I sat in the back to hide from the driver, who apparently didn't like people who hadn't purchased tickets (the office was closed) or had extra bags (oops) that were heavy (couldn't avoid it) and tried to make jokes about monkeys working in the Calgary baggage department (she thought I was degrading them, when I actually was making a joke for Lindsay because she was sad). Anyway, that was enough of that.

A red Mustang convertible escorted me to the second set of passing lanes, and then I was officially gone. I couldn't bring myself to look at the scrapbook the Girl Guides had made me until the bus was almost in Golden. That brought on a fresh flood of tears. I pulled myself together though, and enjoyed my last drive through the mountains for the next few months.

Everything was nifty until the power steering went on the bus outside of Canmore. That REALLY made the bus driver grumpy. When all was said and done, the bus arrived an hour late in Calgary. Chad was picking me up at the depot, but he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn't carry my two suitcases and the guitar case at once, so I had to move by increments through the gate and into the depot. I managed to move about 50ft in, and gave up. I sat on my guitar case and waited for Chad.

Stacey and Chad were gracious hosts, as always. I luxuriated in the big fluffy bed and tormented the cats, as always. I picked up a few things I needed in the land of no PST (camera and iPod are necessities, right?) before Chad dropped me off at the airport to fly to NB.

The flight was rather uneventful, which was nice after the bus ride. I sat with two ladies from Miramichi City, one of whom was a freelance writer. She often writes articles for the Leader, a local weekly paper. After talking with me for awhile, she asked if she could write a feature on me. Cool, huh? You never know who may be sitting beside you! I'll keep you posted on that.

Emily, Mom, and Melissa A. met me in Moncton, along with the sunshine and humidity. We piled into the car (well, Melissa went home, but we will visit again soon) and headed back to Boiestown.

Since then, I've been hanging out with Dad most days while Mom is at work. My nephew Aidan comes by to visit every day, and we often go for "bike rides" along the driveway and a short distance down the road. He's only three after all. He doesn't want to wear me out. Mom, on the other hand, takes me on hour long walking excursions every evening, which we usually immediately cancel out by eating ice cream before we go to bed. :)

The whole family gathered around this weekend for Mother's Day, lobster, and hugs. Aaron picked up my nieces and hung them upside down. Oh, and he did that to Mom too!! Only Tatum and Dawn were missing; they were visiting her family in Newfoundland.

I'm currently babysitting Asa, my seven year old nephew, while my brother is at work.

I do have a new cell phone number, so email me if you would like to have it.

To all of you elsewhere, I really miss you. Please keep in touch and let me know how you are doing.