Home (born here, not from here)

DSCN5121I am a British Columbian at heart, a Vancouver Islander in my bones.

To be fair, my Ontario roots go just as deep – generations of my people on both sides of my family were born on this Great Canadian Shield scraped level by ancient glaciers, fertile with farms and highways and the dreams of new immigrants. I was born in Toronto, but I grew up in Victoria, and perhaps my return to this city should have felt more like a homecoming.DSCN4901

My Grandma drove me around her town the summer before I started university and told my stories from my Dad’s growing up years – the places they lived and the schools he attended, and I walked up a stranger’s side yard to see a black cross emblazoned in concrete that marked the death of a pet bird. The people who live there now don’t know what that cross means, but I do. And a few months later, my Great Uncle drove me around his hometown and showed me the river my Grandpa used to fish, and the old post office that was a corner store for a few years, and we bought cheese curds at Reid’s Dairy because Grandpa always missed squeaky cheese after he moved out West with my Prairie-born Grandma. I have a rich heritage with deep roots in the earth, but my heart is hungry for a changing tide, for the smell of salt and moss and cherry blossoms, and smoke on the shore rising up to bright stars.

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IMG_20150410_213159We had a white Easter this year, drove home through falling snow from our family dinner Saturday night. Sometimes seasons don’t come as you expect.

And the bus transfer I received this morning says it is the 100th day of the year, which got me thinking how many different ways we measure days and count seasons, 100 days into 2015, 10 days into April, 5 days into Easter, 20 days into Spring although like I said, Winter has been taunting us on its way out the door. Today I am 26 months into motherhood, which seems both completely normal and utterly impossible, and I am realizing more and more how motherhood is a whole genre of seasons unto itself.

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Nicaragua Day 11: San Juan Del Sur

Great news! My laptop (with our vacation pictures easily accessible on it) is back from a long trip to the computer doctor, and I am ready to get back on the vacation-blogging wagon. We left off way back in January with Day 10 or if you prefer to see all the posts from our trip laid out, you can see them here.

Our third morning at Hostel Esperanza we finally took advantage of the free breakfast. It was very nice to enjoy a typical Nicaraguan breakfast in the cafe and not have to hike hungry up to the market, and Torre even got his own little plate with fruit and an egg. Fueled for the day, we decided to try and hike up to the Christ statue we’d been looking up at for three days.

IMG_20141128_104306Easier said than done. We walked to the edge of town and crossed a suspension bridge over a muddy river draining into the ocean. We found ourselves hiking along an unpaved highway, then we came to a neighbourhood of big, beautiful homes and several mansions under construction. The steeper the road got, the more epic the houses became, and eventually we realized we must have missed a turn.

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