Keep Calm and Carry On

6 years!  And, Saturday being our anniversary, we made certain to note it with an eventful day filled with wonders which included, but were not limited to:

• Early morning observations about sunrises and yogurt.
• Dog walks.
• Hollandaise and pineapple on the side.
• Farewells.
• Frantic phone calls filled with panicked, breathless terror.
• Ingenuity, cargo straps, coffee, luck, blood and a welcome socket set.
• The best family of friends we could ever ask for.
• Shishkas, vodka lemonade, Guitar Hero and BBQ'd fruit. 
• 3 AM wake up calls.
• Two ferries from which to choose and then race towards on a half tank of fuel in the wretched Volvo.
• The $178.00 "Island Escape Tax."
• Discussions on the pros and cons of throwing the iPhone in the Straight.
• The inevitable 'map fight', and
• Each other!

Thank you to all of our very wonderfully dedicated friends for laughs, food, emergency margaritas, mixed tapes, help when help was needed most, and especially for endless shenanigans to come. In Ecuador.

You Can't Always Be What You Want

Charlotte the elephant looked like every other elephant in her family. She had big grey ears and a looooong grey trunk like her aunts and uncles. She had four toes on her front feet and three on her back, just like her sister and cousins. She had tusks and thick, strong legs just like her parents and brother.

But Charlotte was different. Charlotte wanted to be ... a ninja. (illustration: Charlotte dressed in black, 'hiding' behind a tiny potted fern)

Her parents thought it was a phase. "She'll grow out of it eventually," they told their bewildered friends.

Her teachers thought it was imaginative. "She's so creative," they wrote on her report cards.

Her brother thought she was crazy.  "She hides in my closet and watches me sleep," he reported to the school social worker.

Charlotte didn't care.  She was busy practicing how to hold nun chucks and walk silently across rice paper. (illustration: thought bubble while in a straight jacket)

Her parents began to get a little concerned. "She's just a little withdrawn," they told their friends, who had stopped coming by for tea.

Her teachers worried about her future. "She refuses to participate in class," they wrote on detention slips.

Her sister started emotionally regressing. "She hit my dolly with a throwing star she made out of a pie plate," she told the judge.

Charlotte wasn't concerned. She was too busy running across rooftops in the moonlight and scaling city walls in one leap. (illustration: drug induced hallucination)

Her parents made arrangements to visit her on weekends. "We hope you'll get better soon sweetheart," they told her through the glass.

Her teachers were glad to have some modicum of normalcy returned to their day. "We'll send her a big card," they told her relieved classmates.

Her orderly was careful not to turn his back on her. "She seems resistant to the medication," he told the doctors.

Charlotte wasn't worried. Her training had prepared for this. (illustration: deranged imaginings during psychotic break)

MC and I plan on writing a series of wildly unpopular children's books about managing expectations and how reality is nothing like your dreams. Basically the opposite of Disney in every way.  I think we may be on to something here.

Try This

Stand outside a noisy, music filled wedding hall and look up at the roof. If you look carefully you can see Hope and Happiness pressing against the rafters, ready to burst the building apart.

For Adam and Tamara, two of the finest friends, who asked us to share their day. Thank you. Congratulations.

Suds, Scotch and Serenity

Good friends and I went to the "Scotch and Suds Fest" on Mount Washington last night. It was an excellent time.  For the price of our tickets we got 5 drink stubs and the opportunity to try some rather excellent micro-brews from around BC.  Top picks for me included the IPA from the Tofino Brewery ("... in Tofino on Industrial Way, open noon until 10 pm every day.") and every other beer I sampled.  


There is something to be said for sitting on a timber deck overlooking beautiful Strathocona Park, sipping icy beers, listening to some pretty decent punk-fiddle music and thinking about absolutely nothing except the next sip.  At moments like that it's possible to hear the Universe say "Yes" and feel it resonate right through to the center of your heart.

Mountain Therapy

Last weekend Husband helped me pick out hiking boots that cost more than my first car to ensure that I'd be ready for... stuff.  In Alberta.  Apparently stuff in Alberta is going to need it's ass kicked. These boots could knock a hole through a wall.  When questioned, Husband said that we would likely be doing some great hiking trails and wouldn't it be great if I had great gear to get started with?  He said the word great about four more times before the sales lady asked us to leave. 

This weekend 'we' decided to take a practice hike. You know, for Alberta. At 4560 ft, Mt Becher is not what I would consider a practice hike unless Alberta has Alps I don't know about. 

I'm going to interrupt myself here and just clarify that I hate climbing mountains.  It is enough for me to know that the mountains are there and look lovely topped with snow.   Most importantly, it is enough for them to be distant.  I don't need to stamp to the top in serious boots and declare them my bitch.  I can say this because I have climbed three mountains so far and each and every one has handed me my ego and sent me slouching to the bottom on shaky legs, dehydrated and vowing never to let Husband win the coin toss again.

Hiking up the approach to Mt Becher has effectively changed that opinion. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny, and we could see for miles around us. The view of the  Straights behind us and the peeks of peaks we could see ahead were all the motivation I needed to keep going. Slowly. Up and up and up. 

You can learn a lot about your partner when the trail is hot and steep and you are tired and sore and maybe just a little less inclined than usual to be jollied along by the mountain goat masquerading as your spouse. 

Seen here: Husband, telling me to quit stalling.

Husband learned that I have excellent hearing because I heard the bear in enough time to avoid meeting it altogether.  I learned that Husband can read maps like a champ.  We both learned that we have very different definitions for the word 'rest' and that Jesse thinks glaciers make a tasty treat. I learned that Husband is a far better hiker than I in that he has the physical stamina of a robot, the ability to conquer anything through sheer outraged will and is disinclined to notice pretty butterflies or interesting mosses.  I am not a good hiker but, while I don't read maps well, I can apparently navigate by interesting clumps off moss since otherwise we would have completely missed our fork on the way back. 

After three hours of climbing Husband gazed back to me with his beautiful smile and exclaimed, "Look!" while pointing to the crest ahead. Overjoyed to have reached the summit I gave it my all and struggled up the last few meters to stand beside him. Proudly, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we gazed at the beautiful view of the mountain range beyond. It was a perfect moment.

"Are you ready?" he asked, breaking the silence.  

After three hours of hiking straight up, through heat, snow, sun, mud and bears, we had reached the base of Mt Becher. And after three hours of hiking straight up, Husband learned that if you call it a summit, it's a summit.

No matter what the damn map says.

Stay Out of My Bubble

                                                         Hey there!
                        If I hold out my hand it's not always for you to take.
          I may just need you to stay                     out of my personal space.
                      And while we're on                         the subject of space,
                  it would be awesome                        if you didn't assume
                       that I want to share                     every detail of my
                             day with you, just because you share yours.
                                                      With everyone.