It's still spring break up on the forest roads, so road bans mean that work hasn't ramped up yet. I'm putting in a few hours here and there, but in general I'm home by 6pm.

My weekday routine is to keep busy. Make a quick dinner and sit properly at the table to eat. Tidy the kitchen. Vacuum the house. Mow the lawn. Weed the path. Read a book. Make some soap. Do some laundry. The list goes on like this until D calls at 10pm.

It's working out OK, him being out of town. It makes us appreciate the weekends and each other. I miss him, I miss the company, and I have to keep busy for fear of crumpling up into a ball and doing nothing.

All in all, though, I feel like we're making progress. House projects are being completed at a good pace. We are eating well. Daniel is putting in time that will buy us a future.

I went to visit him on the long weekend to give him a break from the 6 hour round trip. We ventured out for a night in Sm1thers, staying at a cozy bed and breakfast and meeting up in town for drinks with a friend who is working at a fisheries camp an hour and a half north of town.

We also spent some time exploring around Burns L@ke. His boss invited us over for dinner and to watch the hockey game. I'm sitting there in backyard of a house in this tiny town that most Vancouverites could not point out on a map, and I'm patting the broad heads of his dogs, and we're drinking beer, and the hockey game is on inside the house, and everytime we score we hear hoots and hollers echoing off the lake, and I'm kind of thinking Hrmph, so this is what it means to be a Canadian.