" SpiritofSaltSpring:BC:Canada:GulfIslands:SaltSpring:Salt Spring:

December 28, 2008

Dangerous Cookies

Momma Pauline's Christmas Eve Journey as told to Gayle.

You were smart to leave on the 23rd, she says to me. I got stuck. I had to leave the car. I couldn't drive. I couldn't get out of the driveway.

But, I thought, that's okay, I can just stand outside and wave down the bus. So, I loaded up my baking and everything. I had so much stuff I had to get the neighbours to help me just to get to the corner.

When I got on the bus, I couldn't fit through the door the normal way. I had to throw the bag on, hold the bag full of baking and squeeze on sideways. I had to leave the baking at the front, couldn't take it all with me, and it was being passed to me bag by bag down to the back of the bus she says.

So, we get to Ganges and the bus just sits there. Why aren't we going, I ask the bus driver. This bus doesn't go to Fulford he says. What? I almost screamed she says. Not every busy meets the ferry he says.

I couldn't believe it. There were no schedules. I had to get it all off the bus. One bag is slung over my shoulder one way, the other the other way. I have bags in each hand. And, I had to go have four coffees with all those bags just to pass the time for the next bus - two hours later. Can you believe it?

Finally when it's time, I go back to the stop and there must have been 75 people lined up. The bus only seats 20! It's snowing like crazy.
They split people up and somehow because of where they were split, I got to the front of the line she says laughing.

I'm on the bus and when we get to the Fulford Ferry, I ask this man who had no bags if he could carry some of my baking. He agrees. He tells me he'll leave it in the forward lounge Number 1. He works on the ferry. I tell him if he just leaves it I'll pick it up.

He goes down the ramp. For some reason we're all just standing at the gate waiting to be let on. Time seems to be passing and nothing's happening. Then, I hear the muffled sounds of an annoucement. I can't hear a thing, don't have a clue what they're saying but then I see all these people, ferry personnel, running to the forward lounge.

What's going on, I ask? Nobody knows what's going on. There seems to be a lot of commotion.

Finally, I see this guy, ferry personnel coming back up the ramp. He's carrying my bag, the bag I gave to the other guy. I'm screaming at him. Hey! Hey! What are you doing? Where you going? That's my Christmas baking. What are you doing with my Christmas baking?

Turns out, they were all running there because they thought the bag was suspicious. As if someone had left a bomb she says and she can't stop laughing. "At Fulford?" I ask, incredulous at the stupidity.

Yessssssss! she says in that long exxagerrated and loud way she has of saying yes where the "s" lasts forever.

I got it back from him and of course they were all joking about how the least I could do was give them some cookies after I'd scared them all like that with my unidentified bags of baking.

I was just glad they didn't pick it up and hurl it overboard as far from the boat as possible, expecting an explosion as it hit the water, she said.

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