Yearly Archives: 2005

Bancroft '05, Part 3/6

Adam already has the best sto­ry of the year. I hap­pened to be car­ry­ing when we were stopped for a traf­fic check on the way up (which made me ner­vous enough), but it was­n’t any­where close to what Adam had on him. I did­n’t need a flam­ing shot to calm myself though.

Thumbnail: Adam's burned eyelashes

Isn’t it fun­ny that Matt talks about burn­ing his lash­es min­utes before Adam singes his own.

Bancroft '05, Part 2/6

There were three main crews vaca­tion­ing at the farm that week­end. The Ottawa crew con­sist­ed of Trolley, Aaron, and I. In the Toronto crew was Adam, Efrem, Lyda, and Jim. The main group, the ones orig­i­nal­ly from Bancroft, were Tyler with Meryl, Eric, Sarah, Matt, and Kate, although Trolley and Adam would also be con­sid­ered mem­bers, and brought their respec­tive crews. Of course, even Trolley’s cousins showed up, as they always do, since they’re only a short snow­mo­bile ride away.

It took a few hours for every­one to arrive, since peo­ple were up to five hours away, so time was spent The Streets lis­ten­ing, card play­ing, and alco­hol induc­ing while wait­ing. When Eric walked in and said, “WOAH”, Aaron and I com­plete­ly stopped what we were doing and looked at each oth­er. It was obvi­ous that Eric was loaded already, because he’s rarely so bois­ter­ous.

Thumbnail: Snifter of Baileys

And Sarah’s brown cow filled the snifter when she start­ed.

Bancroft '05, Part 1/6

A few months ago, Trolley, Aaron, and I head­ed over to the farm for some par­ty­ing, snow­board­ing, and gen­er­al relax­ation. It was only a week­end, but it was one of the best week­ends in years.

During the ride over, we stopped off at a gro­cery store to load up on munch­ables. Every time I see the video, I remem­ber how excit­ed I was, just from hear­ing my voice. A week­end away with two friends and no wor­ries. Of course, I’m so excit­ed that my voice cracks, and it sounds like I’m going through puber­ty again.

Thumbnail: Open farm 
Thumbnail: Starry sky 

Being on the farm is like being in a world of its own. 350 acres of land, includ­ing lit­tle forests, a hunt­ing shed, snow­mo­bile paths, cows, and lim­it­ed light pol­lu­tion. Just imag­ine the pri­va­cy, with the near­est neigh­bour not even at earshot. At night it’s a debil­i­tat­ing dark­ness, and the milky way comes out enough for one to make out the dis­tance of spe­cif­ic stars.

Poignant

Promised myself I’d be in bed by nine, but my ner­vous­ness has made me too jit­tery to sleep.

“Poignant”, he said, just as I was think­ing the word, and it made me real­ize that if there’s one thing I do try to be, it’s poignant. I don’t know why. Perhaps it shows good com­mu­ni­ca­tion. Perhaps there’s men­tal relief in know­ing that one is not alone, that oth­ers can under­stand and may feel the same way.