An intimate look at the life of...

I still can't answer that question, because on the adventure I am about to regale you with, I actually witnessed zero human activity.
Let me introduce you to the life of a woman who has nothing to do with her days except wait for a bone to heal. It's exciting stuff. Not really. Yesterday was a mild exception to the rule of day-time TV watching and listless crunches in lieu of actual cardiovascular exercise.
I'm going to assume no one has ever heard of a hamlet called Madden. No? Alright, solid. I doubt there's internet access out there anyways. It's not on any maps, either, so don't go looking for it.
Madden is located somewhere North of Calgary, though my friends and I took so many wrong turns and back roads to reach it that I can't even begin to give directions. When I first pictured this place I saw maybe four buildings on the main street, a couple of houses, and shiny farmland. Very Little House. What does Madden actually consist of? A sign boasting "You are now entering the hamlet of Madden; Speed Limit 40", not one, but two, closed down General Stores, a town hall/community center shanty that looks as though it's been built from tin foil, and a couple of houses. That is actually it. Oh, and what can only be a distantly related bus shelter made of plywood bearing the very hilarious, spray painted, slogan "Slow Kids + Bus". Considering this place begs for jokes about good old fashioned inbreeding, I find that very fitting.
Our adventure to reach Madden, explore it (3 seconds flat in the brand new Honda), and ridicule it (we're still working on the jokes), does not end there. On top of Madden itself we witnessed a real-live crazy cat lady shelter - eight cats wandering the front yard and counting - and probably trespassed on a dairy farm. On this farm we also managed to lure every single cow to the fence by simply calling them. Like dogs. Very fun. On top of that we found the very beautiful Madden Golf Course, a random ice-rink exclusively for curling, someone possessing their own giant pond/paddle boat combination, and a flat horse that I later discovered was made from metal.
Our exploring spirit was slightly crushed/bruised by the fact that the signs boasting 'Dog Pound' were not in fact for a dog pound in which we could play with the puppies, but for a county. Named 'Dog Pound'. We also discovered there is a county named 'Moose Factory' somewhere in Ontario. I always wondered how moose were created. On our way home, however, we did manage to find a kinda creepy B&B in the absolute middle of nowhere.
What really got to me is who chooses to live that far away from any type of civilization whatsoever. Who is not a farmer. I mean, really, what pull does that life have? It's so isolated. I actually feel a kindred spirit with that level of isolation. I am a cripple, and the people (who may or may not exist) live in the hamlet of Madden or county of Dog Pound.
But then, I suppose there is something to be said about living self-sufficiently, without the implements of society. These people do kind of embody the point at which human civilization was doing pretty well, before the Industrial Revolution which has inadvertently led to a globe condemned to death at every turn, rumors of Global Warming, weapons of mass destruction, multiple genocides, and our current economic stalwart.

I'm moving to Madden.