Bear Trail Blahs

Not much has been going on around Whitney and the Couples Resort. True to our work contracts, the young staff here have been getting all the hours we can handle -- and then some. Last week Allie worked 65, then 63, then she got a cold and there was nobody available to take shifts. Hrm... cough all over peoples' food? Ok.

Tomorrow she's triple-booked for the day: Office 8:30-1, cleaning 12-4:30, then dinner after that... notice an overlap in there? Someone's going to miss her for an hour.

So as much as the money influx has been great, there is a down side to this. Not only is everyone tired, cranky, and too crabby to care about doing anything social because we all have to get up in the morning and do it all over again with no day off in sight, but I think we're all starting to feel a little bit like drones, here. There's just no "me time" here. No time to sit by the fire with a book like the guests do, or catch up on every episode of M*A*S*H like it's going out of style.

There's also the looming threat of winter that has everyone on edge. It's coming. Soon. And everyone keeps predicting a rough one.  This happened last week:

Can we say YUCK!

Allie rushed out and ordered winter boots. Brent refuses to order a coat. Silly Brent. He'll regret that in January. 

Speaking of Brent, he went to Toronto last night with a few staff who somehow got time off (who gets TWO days off in a row??? I'd like someone to explain this concept to me...) He gave Derek a ring and they were going to hang out: Brent probably to drink some beers and listen to bar music, and Derek's probably got other ideas about picking up chicks or something.  Allie tried to remind Brent not to take drinks from strangers, and to bring cash for a taxi if he needs it, but there's no doubt that he didn't absorb any of her worldly advice HAH

Well, off for another shift. That's all for now!

The Resort and Whitney

our closet full of uniforms

the fireplace. Brent and Mike only love this as an excuse to take the golf cart to get wood every night

the eeny weeny tiny bathroom

our cabin

Allie's office friends

fresh snacks from the garden

the kitchen

the dish washer

Briana and Allie's kayaking adventure

and she fell out!!

hanging out

brent being goofy

our new laptop

the greenhouse. Everything in the gardens here is edible

our favourite picnic spot by the dam

and that's all that's in town LOLS

Not Much Going On

There's not a whole lot we can say lately...

Since the car accident, Allie's mom has been freaking out and demanding slave labour in the form of house chores as repayment for the tediousness of searching for a new great deal. (Mike! Your Magnum isn't out of the running yet, she's just a picky buyer!) Now that all the closets, storage areas, and pantries have been fully reorganized and refreshed, Allie's starting to get a little impatient.

Brent is also impatient, but with boredom. Guitars and xboxes complete and (for the most part) sold, he has nothing to do these days but go hang out with the mechanic who is looking after Tuckkie. Brent is experiencing a bout of everything BREAKING:

First he broke the truck door handle.

Then he fixed it. 

Then it somehow broke again. 

Then he took it apart to fix it and it wouldn't go back together. 

Let the mechanic handle that one. 

The mechanic discovered that the clip on the rear brake pad is somehow broken, too, and there's a leak in the transmission hose. 

Damn observant but awesome mechanic. 

Then Brent breaks the mirror off Allie's dad's bike. 

Oops. 

Allie's bike breaks.... at least breaks more than it was broken before. 

The sole falls off Brent's right shoe.

The computer blue-screens. 

The back-up drive for the computer is a lemon and some guy ran off with the wireless receiver.

The iphone screen Brent is replacing for some kid doesn't work.

The tool he's using snaps. 

The suction cup he's using won't suck. That sucks. Or does it?

Then the LCD of the iphone breaks as he's putting it back together. 

So he takes the one from Allie's iphone so that the kid can go home happily thinking he has a new screen. 

Now Allie's iphone screen is broken. 

The water-heater in the house we're house-sitting springs a leak. Daddy to the rescue.

Luke's bike tire deflates as Brent is riding it. 

The steering knuckle in the truck is seized. 

They don't make them anymore. 

The steering rack in the truck is seized. 

That's $250 + 10 hours labour. 

Allie's running shoes bite the dust.

Her repair job is temporary, only to add lumps in the soles.

Allie's new $400 orthopedic shoes suck ass and hurt.

Brent's jeans pocket breaks and his lighters all fall out.

The second half of the movie we downloaded won't play.

It seems that since the car got smushed, karma is repaying us with a series of BAD LUCK.
Is anything going right at this moment? Not really...

On the up-side we're trying to change our luck with a new job at a resort. But where will we be? Fairmont Whistler, operating ski lifts and hot cocoa machines? The Couples' Resort in Algonquin Park cleaning heart-shaped hot tubs and serving romantic fondue for two? Or a hunting cabin in the middle of the tundra boonies slaving over peameal bacon and hashbrowns for our ravenous bush-men tennants?

Actually, there may be a great job for us at the Couples'  Resort without hot-tub cleaning involved.  He wants us there in two weeks, which leaves such few days to get the truck FINALLLLLLYYY done and go see poor papa Akins who has been waiting so patiently for Brent to get his butt in gear.

Could this be our new home for a while?

We Hit a Squirrel...?

The very last day Allie's parents were out of town, we were driving to get a price quote from Ford on a part and Allie accidentally passed the exit. Turning around and coming back seems now like the worst choice possible!

We stopped behind some cars that were waiting to turn left, and the guy behind us didn't apparently notice the delay and rammed into the column of cars at a whopping 60+ km/hour. The damage to his car? minimal. Damage to the guy in front of us and the guy in front of him? Negligible.

Our car?

Cool, eh?

Aside from some whiplash we're OK. But the car?  Write-off?