Do you want to go on an adventure?
Moments from my wild and injured life (April 5-11)
Hi friend! If you’re new here: most weeks, I send out a little dispatch from my daily life in the UK. It’s a collection of stories and things I’ve noticed—at home, in books, on my walks, in the world, and within myself. I send them all from The Lighthouse. My hope is they feel reflective and calming, and inspire you to notice more in your own life. Writing them certainly helps me notice more in mine… 🕯
April 5, 2025
It’s mid-afternoon and we’re halfway through a walk, finishing the ice cream bars we stopped to buy along the way. “Do you want to go this way?” I ask and motion right. “And stay in the sun a little longer?” This way takes us through one gate, across a bit of grass, then through a second gate. Before opening the second one, I see a sign attached to it: BIRD FLU DETECTED HERE.
I have never seen this sign before. Not here, not anywhere, especially in a public place. We are not walking through a farm (though sheepies are often in the next field over). We are walking by a small body of water occupied by birds: ducks, geese, swans, etc. The sign says to report any dead birds found, and not touch them or even their feathers. A minute later, we walk past a huge carcass… of maybe a goose!? Though the feet look more like an owl. It’s hard to see what it is/was. Looks like a fox dug into it. If it was infected, that could be bad news for the fox. It’s definitely bad news for the bird(s)…
April 6, 2025
“Do you want to go on an adventure today?” I ask the preteen in my life. You have a preteen in your life!? you might be wondering now, and the answer is yes. I have a preteen and a teenager in my life, and that’s probably all I will ever tell you about them, friend. Because they aren’t my kids to talk about. They are Tall Man’s. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about how kids are put on the internet more broadly, but trust we can only ever do what feels right for us. What feels right for me is to not talk about his kids, or these two autonomous humans. But I am interested in exploring what it means to be an adult in kids’ lives. And when I realized the preteen and I would have 6+ hours alone together with zero plans or time restraints, I asked the most Cait question I could think of:
Do you want to go on an adventure?
This was naturally met with some follow-up questions. I had no predetermined plans or ideas around this, friend. I was just making it up on the spot, the way all my friends who are parents admit they do every day! “Do you want to just get in the car, get some snacks, then you can tell me to go left or right, and we’ll see what happens?” That got a very big YES.
This is how we end up miles and miles away from TM’s house, geocaching in wild and unknown places. “Where are we!?” is a question we both keep asking, followed by “I’ve never been here before!” I knew we were somewhere in the North Pennines, but didn’t realize we had crossed over into Northumberland until we saw a sign on the way out.
One of the geocaching spots is on the side of the road—truly in the middle of nowhere. It takes a few minutes of searching for us to figure out the geocache is down a dark hole in the ground. To get it, one of us will have to stick an arm down the hole, pull out a big rock, then put our arm back in to find the little container. The preteen asks me to do it, but I am afraid! Afraid of big scary spiders and any other bugs that might be down the dark hole! But the preteen BEGS me to do it, and I can’t ignore that plea. I shove my arm in the hole, we both shriek, then cheer when I pull out the geocache—with no spiders or bugs in tow! We got it! Wahoooo!
On the drive home, I start thinking about how big of a day this was for us—and what lessons might be taken from it. I don’t think you can always teach so much as model ways to be/live in this world. Today, I modelled one type of adventure you can go on. I also showed I was afraid of something on that adventure. I was afraid, and I did it anyway. It’s the silliest example of this cliché message we pass around as adults, but sometimes the silly examples can teach us the most.
April 7, 2025
I’m sitting on the couch writing, when I hear someone start singing outside. It’s a little girl—one of the neighbours playing on the street. The doors and windows are all closed, but I can hear her loud and clear. She’s singing a song from Aladdin at the top of her lungs, like it’s bursting out of her!
“No one to tell us NO! Or where to GO! Or say we’re only dreaming…
A whole new WORRRLD! A dazzling place I never knew! But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear! That now I’m in a whole new world with you…”
I haven’t thought of this song since I was probably her age. For the next two days, every time I catch myself humming or singing, I realize it’s stuck in my head.
April 8, 2025
It’s 2pm and I’m in the Lake District, starting the descent of a hike. I’ve been out here for a few hours now, and my feet are sore (note to self: I definitely need new hiking boots/shoes) and ready to be done, but I’m so glad I did this. Took advantage of a beautiful day, and the freedom and flexibility of my schedule, and came here. It was a grind up (2,500 feet) and now looks like it will be a steep descent out, but the sun and the views have been worth it.
Halfway down, I catch up with a family that is somehow moving even slower than me. (Have I mentioned I’m a slow hiker? I’ve decided I’m finally ready to wear this badge proudly.) I start chatting with them about the hike, then my accent prompts the usual questions about where I’m from, where I live now, etc. I always start by saying I’m from the west coast of Canada. If people show more interest or understanding, I’ll say that I’m from Victoria. This family definitely understands. They tell me they once did a road trip from Calgary to Vancouver.
“Ahhh that’s amazing! I’ve lived in Greater Vancouver and up in Squamish, not far from Whistler. But I’m from Victoria.”
“WE TOOK THE FERRY TO VICTORIA!” they exclaim, and we are all excited by this new information. “Victoria is more British than some parts of England!” they add with a laugh, and I tell them they are right. We have red double-decker busses and tearooms/places to go for afternoon tea and there’s the guy who plays the bagpipes outside the Royal BC Museum…
“Well, it was colonized!” I add, knowing this truth can sometimes be a buzzkill but always feels worth saying. I find some Brits are ready and even want to have that conversation, and some are not. This time, I’m met with an awkward “oh yes…” and quickly realize we will not be going any further on this topic—or any other. They tell their kids to let me pass them, so I do, and finish my hike out the same way I started—alone.
April 9, 2025
I’ve just gotten home from having dinner at Tall Man’s house. It’s dark out, but not too dark—still light enough that I can see around to the back of The Lighthouse. (In writing this, I’m finally realizing the one place the house doesn’t have any form of light: outside! There are no external lights, front or back.) So I start my usual evening routine, which includes grabbing a scoop of hedgehog food, going around back, and dropping it in a couple places. I only make it around the first corner, when I can hear the old familiar shuffling and snorting noises…
THERE’S A HEDGIE!!!!! My first sighting of the year! 😍🦔
I don’t have my phone with me to take pictures, but it’s a little one! Maybe one of Mama Hedgie’s (RIP) babies from last year… I’m so excited, but it’s visibly startled/scared and shuffles away to half-hide under the creepy shed (I can still see it’s full back lol). I drop the food in two different spots, then walk past it and go back inside to watch it eat from the kitchen window. I’m so happy there’s a hedgie in my garden, friend. I hadn’t seen one in 6+ months. It feels like everything is right at The Lighthouse now…
April 10, 2025
I wake up and realize I’m having an acute flare up in my neck. It’s the bulging disc I’ve had ongoing issues with for over 12 months now. I thought it was getting better, and so did the specialist I saw last month, but HAHA the joke’s on us. Only it doesn’t feel funny. I am sad and frustrated and let myself cry it out. I’m tired of being in pain, tired of having to think about my neck, tired of having this impact what I can/cannot do, tired of doctors and practitioners not taking it more seriously and helping me. I cry and cry, then breathe and remind myself that the only thing I can do is focus on calming down the pain. Stop the bleeding, so to speak. My job is to now spend the day cycling between icing my neck, doing my PT exercises, and walking/doing small things around The Lighthouse to keep my blood flowing. I can’t fix my neck, but I can do this. (I’m also grateful I have a follow-up appointment in May, so I can tell the specialist about this setback—likely caused by my posture on part of my hike—and ask for a new plan.)
Acute pain is both clarifying (because it forces you to focus) and supremely boring (because you can’t focus on anything else). By 5pm, I am so bored of my pain. But it’s 17°C/63°F and the sun is shining, so I’m outside sitting on the patio. I’m in pain, but I can still enjoy feeling the warmth on my skin.
All the usual birds have been hopping around me today, but now I see someone new: Birdy’s baby! It has finally come down from the nest and is hanging out on the patio, calling out for food and learning how to find it. And Birdy stands by and watches her husband answer those calls and show it the ropes.
April 11, 2025
I wake up in basically the same amount of pain as yesterday, and realize I probably need to change some of my plans. For the weekend… but also for today. I am not going to write, friend. Not going to force myself to sit and constantly readjust my neck while I attempt to get any more words “on the page.” I need to keep icing and doing my PT and moving around. And honestly, I just don’t have much more to say other than: I’m in pain. And that’s boring.
I may be finishing the week on a bit of a low, but I can look back and see it was filled with beautiful moments and weather, and I feel grateful for all of it.
Now, if you can only forgive me for any spelling mistakes my pain-focused brain couldn’t find in this week’s dispatch (there were some big ones when I did a quick edit), I’d be grateful for that too lol.
What have you noticed in your part of the world this week, friend?
And where have your adventures taken you recently? ☺️
xx Cait
One of my friends I thought I had lost in January came up and talked to me in private on Monday to tell me they thought I needed space and to explain what happened that day another friend got involved in December or January. Then on Tuesday they walked out of work with me causing me to miss an appointment! Then on Wednesday I asked for their advice with another friend who we had discussed on Tuesday. That other friend tokd me they are so glad we are friends. I had debated texting them. It’s a long story but I’m so glad I did because we texted for a full hour. It has been a very good week relationally after feeling like I lost so much in this first part of the year. I hope your pain gets resolved soon!!!
Oh Cait I am so sorry you are in pain. I live with chronic pain and have not been able to find a new physiotherapist as my old one has been off for two years now. I have to do lots of stay in the moment meditations and my own physio to get to the next moment. I have also found alot of relief with Holy Grail essential oil mixed in with a carrier cream. So intriguing that the conversation stopped around colonization. Sigh. What a wonderful adventure you had! Memories to last forever for both of you! This week I noticed how alike my daughter and I...more than usual! We went to a fundraising event for animals and were overcharged $30 but decided not to speak up due to the fact it was a fundraiser! Can't wait to see the hedgies! You need a hat with a light for your adventures outside though!🚨🚨🚨🦔🦔🦔🦔🥰🥰🥰🌲🌲🌲💖💖💖