A FIELD OF BACHELOR BUTTONS in the morning sunlight

A FIELD OF BACHELOR BUTTONS in the morning sunlight

Chillin’ with the black flies and skeeters

Bloodsuckers are everywhere, but being on holidays makes them slightly less annoying.

It’s not a mutual love affair: the mosquitoes and black flies love me, but I can’t return the sentiment.

Last year was characterized by the ever present yellow jacket hornets. This year the skeeters and black flies are making outdoor life unbearable. Which means… it must be vacation time.

Lucky for me, that holiday feeling of euphoria will trump the bites and stings of any insects – for a few days at least.

I’m not immune to taking all the internet surveys that catch my eye: What’s your Flower? What Country are you? etc. Some are truly mindless, others are thought-provoking.

I’m told that my type of tourism is the stay at home type, which is more or less true. I did all of my travelling when I was young and didn’t have all of the attachments that come with …. er, maturity. I love nothing better than to putter around in the yard, tend the garden, pull the weeds, relax on the deck. After last year’s renovations, I’d better enjoy it!

Another survey tells me that I’m driven by curiosity. Yep. Show me a hill and I have to see what’s on the other side of it. Side roads drive me nuts because I want to travel down each and every one to see what’s there.

Every year we take trips to see family and friends, since we’re a widespread bunch. It’s not the same as taking a trip purely for sightseeing, although I manage to get a bit of that in as well, since everywhere you go, there’s another hill and more unexplored side roads.

Not to mention, new quilt shops to see.

But I have to say, the best part of these trips is coming home, wherever home is. My own kitties. My own bed. My own refrigerator.

So, this is my last issue and my last editorial for a few weeks. Barbara Roden will take over from me from now until July 23.

From now until then, I will be catching up on my sleep, visiting family, enjoying my backyard, cursing those little biting insects, and sitting on my deck with a happy, vacant expression on my face.

See you when I get back!

Wendy Coomber is editor of the Ashcroft-Cache Creek Journal