Hello folks!
Time goes by so fast here! Maybe because we experience so much every day in all comfort. But maybe also because we have so much fun.
Hilde and me.
Hilde is now officially a member of the gang. I passed that, unanimously. And I am, after all, the boss here.
Last week, Ursula frowned again when she saw Leopold hanging in his seatbelt after a long drive and said, “Leopold, you can’t do it like that. You’re too big and too heavy.” Then she released him from his many purple ribbons with which she had fastened him.
And then suddenly he was sitting in the front passenger seat! I mean, are you crazy! Typical! The man may sit in front!
But it wasn’t long before Ursula said to Leona Löwenfeld, “If Leopold sits in front, then you can sit in front, too.”
Well, after all. But the sloth is of course forgotten.
Not at all, as it turned out immediately afterwards. Because I was also transferred from the console for the TV, which we do not have, to the front seat.
There I was sitting during the day next to Leona Löwenfeld and Leopold, who … how shall I say, they somehow can’t keep their paws off each other. It’s nice anyway, but as a sloth you feel a bit like a fifth wheel.
When Ursula found out about this, she had a serious word with both of them. The dark top cabinet is not a place for a pregnant lioness. In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
Leopold and Leona Loewenfeld promised not to get pregnant. And I was finally allowed to return to my usual place. Where I belong. In fact, I do not slide off the buckle of the seat belt next to the headrest, because I am neither too heavy nor too big, but perfect. For this place. Also, I don’t need a seat belt because my paws are magnetic. I hang out there all by myself.
Why Ursula placed Hilde next to me, I don’t know. Maybe for us to be able to talk. And folks, Hilde is really nice, we get along well and fool around all the time.
The only thing that’s a little off is that the gang is often split up now. The predators in the front, the sloth and the pixie in the back. But we have everything in view, while Leona and Leopold down on the seat don’t even see where we’re going. But when we’re not on the road, they sit on the bench or on the table, close to me.
What else has happened in the last two weeks …
The first month is over, there are only five left …
The thing with socks. When in Riviere-du-Loupe (note that I know how to really spell that!) suddenly three single socks came out of the dryer.
In the meantime, Ursula is a dryer professional. She has no other choice, even though she has a clothesline and a clothes bag with her. But most campgrounds don’t allow clotheslines to be attached to the trees, if they have them. So dryer.
In Kapuskasing everything worked perfectly, the dryer delivered a wonderfully smelling and non-static laundry after forty minutes, because Ursula had bought those thinds to avoid the crackling and the sparks. She didn’t want anything with fragrance, but the neutral ones were only available in bulk.
As I said, it worked perfectly until Ursula wanted to pair the socks. That left four singles.
A still wet sock was found in the washing machine and belonged to a dry one. One of the four singles matched one of the three singles from Riviere-du-Loupe. This leaves a total of four singles. I swear I watched everything closely. Ursula wears her socks in pairs. However, she has an incredible amount of socks with her, they almost don’t have room in the sock bag. She must have panicked again before the trip. After all, there could be campsites without washing machines! And since it’s over 30°C during the day and over 20°C at night, she doesn’t wear socks at all. Not even for hiking. For that she puts on her trekking sandals.
Yesterday she did the laundry again. Winnipeg was a good place for that. Four single socks came out of the dryer, and they matched the orphaned ones in the sock bag exactly. Can someone please explain this to me?
By the way, the stove works perfectly. Except for the fact that Ursula does not cook. What I don’t understand is that in Scandinavia last year she was cooking. But not this time. But I heard her say to a friend on the phone, “So far, I haven’t felt like cooking. Maybe I will.” She feeds mainly on salad of all varieties, fruit, Cinnemon Rolls, brownies, muffins, cheese, and pasta stuff. And for breakfast she makes coffee. It seems to taste really good to her. On driving days, which is two to four times a week, we may also take a break somewhere and she goes out to eat. Or we see a beautiful lake, stop, and she eats salad with all kinds of contents for a change – whatever is in the fridge. Occasionally, even a banana or an apple ends up in it. And nuts. And cranberries. And cheese.
I was an eye witness of the encounter with the bear. That was quite exciting! It seems to me that when we drive longer distances, Ursula always dozes off a bit. Annie Way does everything anyway, so that’s not a problem. So we’re going along the Transcanada Highway at a leisurely pace, and all of a sudden Ursula straightens up in her seat, hops on the brakes, and shouts, “Sally, there’s something in the road!”
A moose?
“Sally, it’s a black bear!”
Annie Way was approaching slowly, towards the bear. The bear looks at Annie Way, Annie Way looks at the bear, and the bear turns around and goes back in the direction from which he has come. At the side of the road he stops and looks at us again. At that very moment, Ursula already has the camera in her hand and makes a photo. Then the bear runs off and disappears between the trees. There’s a video of that. A black bear running away from us.
That doesn’t sound so dramatic now, because after all, we’ve all been sitting safely in Annie Way. But still. It took Hilde and me a while to calm down. And Leona and Leopold were angry because they couldn’t see anything from the passenger seat. That’s what happens when you absolutely have to sit in front!
And then: “Damn!”, said Ursula. “So there are bears in Canada after all.”
There’s one that won’t be walking in such a relaxed way through the woods anytime soon, I guess.
But now we are in the prairie. It starts right in the middle of Canada near Winnipeg. We are equidistant from the Atlantic and the Pacific. And that’s after a month in which we didn’t feel like we’d been hustling driving-wise – on the contrary.
The bear did not eat us. Instead, we now have to deal with mosquitos. Ursula made mosquito curtains for her bed. She had bought net curtains at a certain Swedish furniture store and had now cut them down to the right size for Annie Way. Then, once again, one of her two rolls of tucker tape came in, this time the white one. And it worked.
Annie Way is equipped not only with blackout blinds, but also with mosquito nets at the sliding door and all windows. But the beasts still get in, of course, and so now there’s an extra barrier for the bed.
But when Ursula sits outside in the evening, she may get stung. Unfortunately, she does not notice this. And she does not feel anything afterwards. But you can see it. I counted. On her left leg she had 23 bites this morning. On the right only 18. Looks pretty awful.
Annie Way is often photographed, even when Ursula is not there. And when she’s there and notices it she always asks if something is wrong. People then tell her they are thrilled with the Annie Way. Today, she even let a young couple in so they could get a good look at the insides. They’re converting a van into a camper themselves. “You are living my dream!” the man said.
We are not only living his dream, we are especially living Ursula’s. And she often just stands there and says things like, “Sally, this is all so much better than I had hoped for.” Or, “There’s no way a single person can be doing so well!”
I don’t know how it is with a single person, but I know how it is with a single sloth and its gang: we’re doing good. So really damn good!
So, folks, that was the result after one month in Canada. Not bad at all, right? And you, enjoy yourselves as much as we do! So really damn good!
Yours, Sally