day 4...the ignomity!
I am gratified beyond words that it wasn’t my bright idea to take a 4 1/2 year on a 2 day train ride. Views have been spectacular and Mom and Dad are both relaxed now that there’s nothing to navigate, but Blake is making me insane. Sometime between snack and lunch, I had to haul him to the bathroom to threaten a private spanking. (Note to spanking activists – I didn’t follow through.)
The passivity of this experience is appealing in the same way as I imagine a crossing on the QE must have been in the 20’s. The meals, when freed from the orgasmic prose of the guide book, shine. We’re just grateful for something edible, something we didn’t have to seek out. Each tray is like a Christmas stocking, with tiny sealed portions in abundance. The other thing that likens this to an old-timey cruise is that we’re expected to tip. At least rogue icebergs are relatively unlikely.
This morning the wakeup call came at 4:30. Brutal. Even Blake had a melt-down and had to be forcible parted from his pj’s. Today we will spend close to 12 hours on the train. I suppose I should be grateful that Blake is still willing to be coaxed into a Fisher Price activity book. I’ve tinked 1/3 of what I knit, so plenty remains for tomorrow. Considering that Blake and I are living out of my knitting bag and I could only bring one project, and eternal lace scarf seems more practical every hour.
(based on a letter to Mason, scrawled on a tiny mockery of a notepad)
Good Lord, what a drop in status! We spent our time in Calgary enwombed in a palatial suite: 2 bedrooms, a kitchenette, a dining room table for Christ’s sake! Our arrival in Kamloops has plunged us unceremoniously into the budget motels of my youth with their 2 queen bed frumpiness. Ah, the days when my parents could choose between splitting Nic and I up to avoid fights or risk the kicking so they could surreptitiously get it on. Still, I can’t imagine that I’ll ever do any better than this when it’s my turn to foot the bill.
Blake & I are skipping dinner to go to bed, as our train got in late. I’m so tired that my vision is pulsing in and out and I’ve packed my earplugs in the luggage that will meet us in Vancouver. Now that I need them most, I’ll have to stuff my ears with toilet paper to block out the three-part snoring symphony that awaits. I am so smart.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*