The ol’ Pudding is leaving me!

It is only for a few days as she and the book club go a’venturing up north to visit Echo Bay (Salmon Research Station) and the stomping grounds of Alex Morton the whale and salmon champion.  But heaven will become hell for me.  Three days without light.  Three days without warmth.  Three days with only myself for company.  Pure Hell.    

My biggest fear is starving to death, of course.  One can only go for so long on bananas and scotch, you know.  Especially if you only have a couple of bananas (I try to always have plenty of scotch). Mind you, I occasionally supplement that post-apocalyptic diet with toasted peanut-butter and jam sandwiches when I have to so I’ll be OK.  I guess.

I will probably have to make my own tea, tho. Unmitigated hell.  I would request care packages but mail is intermittent and so, don’t worry too much about me.  No, really!  Try not to worry.  I’ll just go to the garden and eat worms if I have to.  

Did I mention that we can’t seem to keep worms?  They just keep bugging out on us.

Did I mention the woe?  

Book club is a marvel.  It really is.  Fifteen or so women (some accompanied by men, presumably their spouses) will traipse up island and go by water taxi to some remote island (fanatics, eh?) and visit salmon and talk books. “Hey, Pudding!  We have salmon. We have books.  We are on a remote island.  Why not stay home and make tea?” 

“No research station.”

“What about Google?  Not research-y enough for ya?”

“I get to pound across Queen Charlotte Sound in a water taxi for a few hours.  Maybe get forced by weather to stay over.  Maybe have to fight through storms and stuff, eat hardscrabble and stay warm by dressing in all my clothes around a survival fire.  Wouldn’t wanna miss that.”

“With fourteen other women?”

“And a few cute guys.”

‘Hell!’, I am saying.  Absolute HELL.