august 17, 2002.

I'm sitting by a rapids in Edmundston, chewing on a clove of raw garlic and marvelling at the waves of stink coming off my feet. It's been three hot days in sneakers w/o socks and my dogs - uncharacteristically - smell to high heaven. As for the garlic, it was Miri's suggestion. She claimed, and we have subsequently proven, that mosquitoes ignore the garlic-chewer in favour of less-redolent flesh. As our bug spray is lost in the U-Haul truck we have begun to call the Moveable Beast, this garlic wisdom comes as a welcome relief.

[Ed. note: later the next day I would discover and catalogue 33 different bug bites on my legs alone. These, added to the bites on my back, arms, fingers & face bring the total to well above 40. Forty bug bites, people. I'm not a girl; I'm a walking itch factory.]

It's been a long, strange day. We spent all of yesterday packing our junk into the Moveable Beast and scrubbing our apartment. Now I know why it was so clean when we moved in: the landlords deduct the maid fees from the damage deposit, so tenants clean like crazy. We were still vacuuming at 1 a.m. By 2 a.m. I was lying on my back, a victim of near-crippling back pain and nervous adrenaline. We woke up at 5:30, washed our faces and took the last few items to the Beast (vacuum cleaner, pail, bedding & Lilith. Last to go were the Pink Bag of Justice & my framed Acadia degree.) I kissed the walls when the Boy was outside, secretly wishing each room goodbye. And we walked out of that first Rockethome and into a threshold time, a time when the keys on my key-chain lost all relevance to my life. Scary, but fun too.

Sister Silver dropped out of the caravan at the last minute, pleading faint hope of a job in Nova Gothic. I am moderately upset by this - we've really been getting close this last week, and although I know she'd be happier in NS, I selfishly wish her in ON.

Today we made good time. The Moveable Beast gobbles fuel; we hadn't crossed the border of Nova Gothic and New Funswick when we realized that our food vs. fuel question would soon be decided for us as we would shortly lack the funds for either. I put in a panicked call to my parents, who were able to wire us enough money to afford tonight's campsite. Plus, I got to hear the story of The Time at the Fair When the Money Ran Out.

That story, plus the only Chinese restaurant in Edmundston, when we return.