A council estate raised British city girl trying to make it in rural Canada


11:54, Saturday 2 February 2013 .. 0 comments .. Link

It's been a quiet couple of weeks really. Went for my medicals for immigration, didn't get lost in Red Deer for once which always maks me feel good.

Hell I even played a game with the GPS, it tlls me to go one way and I decide to go another which I know is quicker. It works and I felt clever.

Went through another hissy fit stage of hating everything about here, maybe its the weather - cabin fever - seeing pics on Facebook of my old city cums wearing spangly new threads then looking down at my coveralls and shit covered wellies and bursting into tears, though that soon passed.

Darcy once again, though totally not very good at being all emotional, has been solid as a rock through all of this and keeps me soewhat sane.

OK so you don't know this but between that last paragraph and this one was the space of an hour. We were selling some old closet doors etc from the renos and the people just came to pick them up. Which was nice. Until the fucking dog (Rumble) decided he wanted to jump into their car and not get out.

For the love of god.

Here's me trying to smile politely and explain "he's NEVER done this before" they're all smiling back politey thinking "get your hairy dog the hell out of my minivan"

But he wouldn't come, I had to coax him out with treats and biscuits all while trying to look authorititive, when your insides are screaming "Oh my effing god, what the buggery am I going to do if this doesn't work"

Luckily it did, and oh how we all laughed about it.

They'll probably send me a valeting bill for the hair removal. I should have just given them the doors for free. :(



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