Phew. You can relax now, I am back from the wilderness.

No bear sightings to report.

Although we did have a prolonged encounter with an equally terrifying critter of the woods.

Having seen very little native Canadian wildlife so far (a tame skunk at the Blue Jays game, a dead raccoon, black squirrels and Canada geese) I was extremely gratified to discover that we had a new lodger in the cottage woodpile...

(sadly this is not my picture. As soon as I get my pictures developed you shall see them, even though they may fall incongruously in the middle of a blog about Thanksgiving, hockey, or if I'm really lazy, Christmas)

We saw the chipmunk from a distance and decided to try and get it to come closer, using that old and most carefully constructed of stratagems... bait! (Not the live kind - peanuts). Placing small piles of peanuts at intervals ever closer to ourselves, we awaited the chipmunk, hoping it would become gradually accustomed to our presence.

An entire bag of peanuts later, we had to admit that the chipmunk seemed unusually confident around us, to the extent of actually getting inside the peanut bag when our uncontrollable joy at relating to one of God's creatures had dwindled. Apparently, this particular chipmunk is more than used to stupid humans feeding him peanuts for no reason, and gets really lairy when you stop. So much for our cleverness.

Oh well. Next week, bears!

Other highlights of the trip were the 'cookout', where we discovered just how flammable the humble marshmallow can be; our own dramatic recital of 'Oedipus Rex', complete with ever-more believable regional accents (notably "Messengers" #1 & 2) and my own special and unique brand of furniture destruction (nobody will ever know...)

Today I am preparing for that most singular of Canadian experiences: going toThe Cottage! This involves packing a whole load of stuff and going to sit in a house in the woods for a couple of days/couple of weeks/until you get eaten by a bear/until you get eaten by someone out of a Stephen King novel.

JUST KIDDING!

Or am I...?

Generally, when you arrive in Cottage Country, your first port of call will be the local supermarket, to stock up on food, drink etc. for your stay. On your way back to the car, you might want to pick up a couple of Cokes out of the vending machine outside. This is where you must be very, very careful.

DO NOT PICK A VENDING MACHINE THAT LOOKS LIKE THIS!

(And also, if I was a fish, I think I would be more than a little alarmed if the worm that I was about to eat had a top hat and a bow tie, and was grinning like that.)

I AM EMPLOYED!!!!

Well... Kind of. I have an internship at a magazine called Where Toronto, which is a magazine all about... Toronto! Unpaid, but we've all got to start somewhere when we move to Canada, right? The best thing is, I get to find out all about Toronto while I work. It's a plan of pure, non-evil, genius. And I get to work in Toronto amongst all the skyscrapers. They will be my friends.

The Canadian experiences continue.
GO BLUE JAYS!
Yes, this week I have been inaugurated into that most exclusive of clubs, People Who Have Been to a Baseball Game. And much fun it was too. At the vast Skydome (recently renamed the catchy 'Rogers Centre' to the chagrin of many a Torontonian) the mighty Toronto Blue Jays took on the sweet ol' Tampa Bay Devil Rays and won 6-1. Baseball = much like cricket, except the players run in circles, there is a breakdancing break in the middle, and it's exciting. Spare a thought for poor Rays pitcher Edwin Jackson who was hit on the head by a baseball travelling at about a million miles an hour:

But he's ok!

Question: How is a Blue Jay scarier than a Devil Ray?

Fig 1. Blue Jay

Fig 2: Devil Ray

The answer:

Creepy, eh?

I'm living in a Calvin and Hobbes book! Or Peanuts...or Garfield...
Oakville = a rich suburb (kind of) of Toronto, with wide, leafy streets, white picket fences, pioneer-style wooden houses, fire hydrants (a very important feature), kids that play hockey in the street, and I'll swear I saw two chipmunks today. It's all very quiet and well-behaved.
No job yet. I'll keep you posted.

FINE!!!! Here is the blog of the weirdo I am living with in Canada
http://insipid-realities.blogspot.com/
Are you happy now, Fortibular?

So..... Canada, eh?
Home of Moose, Bears, Maple Leafs (both the botanical and the ice-hockey-cal versions), Maple Syrup, Snow, Ice, Canadian dollar$, Tim Hortons, Second Cup, the CN Tower, many Canadians (and some others as well), and now me!

The question: Is it possible for a rookie British journalist with no connections to find a job in Canada?

The pros:
1) Canadians love British accents (apparently). At my orientation I was told to speak as much as possible to make up for any deficiencies in talent, skill, charm etc.
2) It will be harder for prospective employers to notice/check any lies I may tell (if I decide to)

The cons:
1) I know next to nothing about Canada.
2) I don't have a car! Almost every single Canadian reporting job requires a car because of the size of Canada. Darn. All I have are my own two feet (plus GO Transit)

Watch as I begin optimistically and discerningly, and then descend into the hell of applying for every single job on Workopolis.ca as the money runs out.