Category — Writing
Vancouver, you’re making me miss you
When I step out the morning has barely risen. And I inhale the untethered walks, brisk, down Fraser Street, a likely hour to start my morning shift, and remember smiling at men with carts already begun their day’s collecting. Like him.
And I enter a coffee shop where we used to sit in the dark hours before children found us, talking with out cause to cease. Rest an unthought.
Oh, how times have changed.
Leaving English Bay, my mouth hangs open, open for wanting to plunge my run-out eight-and-a-halves clear around Lord Stanley’s treasured gift. It, a tarmac. I, taking flight.
And I grin as I pass Delaney’s where you and I sat for our last cup of coffee. Me, now mother. You, intrepid reporter. And Tompopo where she and I sipped miso, after I’d lent her my Jeep — my sweet, charcoal convertible — before we’d even met.
I was like that then, where did that go?
And as my feet pad pavement damp, oh I will miss this sweet lick of cement, I spot Joe Fortes Library — the site of my first CBC remote broadcast, that time with Early Edition, a provincial election spot.
They announced the election yesterday, a government in contempt. At least we’ll have that in Toronto.
And it’s here on this 6 a.m. peel of Denman that I remember myself.
March 26, 2011 No Comments
in the throes of
for those who are wondering, we are in the throes of packing up our things on Bowen Island. Michael’s parents are here for the week helping us sort, pack, purge, and care for a flu-ridden baby. it has been an emotional week with a great deal of lead up and while i’m sorting boxes i am very much trying to sort out my feelings. there is so very much in store for us in our new home. i am trying to keep the faith. trying to believe that we can build the kind of life we’ve begun in vancouver. i’m trying to keep my head up, for our sake, for madeleine’s sake. i’m falling down a lot, a mess of tears, but at every turn arms are catching me. visits with friends and family are treasured right now so that’s why i am silent in this space. we move across the country the first week of april.
March 23, 2011 2 Comments
as simple and impossible as
madeleine and her adorable cousin sloane
sometimes.
the enormity of my mama-role swallows my pea-mind whole and falls me to tears and I think of all the babies in the world who have never known their womb mothers, never seen their seed fathers, seen their faces a thousand times and never swam in the tsunami of their love. and I find myself ebbing salt streams, biting lower lip, peering at my daughter, whispering a gratitude so deep it’s like a chisel having its way with my ribcage. and i think of the other, the 19-week son/daughter swimming through his/her childhood and beg Heaven to show me how to bathe them in the world’s good Truth.
and today Nicole showed me that…
“since i’m here, committed to the death, it’s best if i distill the job down to essentials: my main goal as a parent is to help my kids make much of God. it’s as simple and impossible as that. college scholarships and trombone lessons and starting midfield are all icing on the cake, buttery but optional. if i can knead their hearts soft toward Him, i will have mothered well.”
March 14, 2011 2 Comments
The Beauty of Boutique
I am working on a series of vignettes for Art-BC.com at the moment and, as I am swallowed whole by work, I thought I’d come up for air and share one with you:
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I climb into the shell, white. Grab my lifejacket, my paddle. Dip the spade in water cold and take my first thrusts out into the lodge-side waters. My destination: the waterfall across the slow ten-minute glide. I pass a yurt, deer, moss, rock. Back in the lodge breakfast is readying. A smorgasbord of balkan yogurt, homemade granola, egg bake, french toast, and bacon by the pound. And I push harder from the nestle of shore to the heart of this mountain cup, and feel the centre of its mouth. After breakfast I will climb these mountains.
Experience it for yourself…
Cathedral Lakes Lodge | Keremeos, BC | www.cathedrallakes.ca
March 13, 2011 No Comments
The (mixed) blessing of a large family
I am one of seven children.
There are numerous blessings being part of such an enormous clan. Like never being bored. Always having a playmate. Epic Christmases. Camping under the stars lined in sleeping bags like sardines. Unforgettable van rides with resident seat buddies. Always having someone to call (the phone list never runs out.) Learning stuff from big brothers. Teaching stuff to little sisters. Performing full-blown musicals with dancers, singers, choreographer and back-up. Being portioned toast and jello squares by toss from the head of the table. Filling an entire pew at church (for some reason this gave me an enormous sense of pride as a kid, like this is our row.)
In the last week and a half I have had the opportunity to twice visit with five of my six siblings (save for my sister in Australia, we miss you Lynn!), plus parents, spouses, nephews and nieces. It is a rare occurrence these days (which I am still coming to terms with) and times together are filled with good conversation, much affection and heaps of hilarity.
Like when my sister Kristen, up visiting from Las Vegas with her husband PJ and their adorable little boy Ben, says: “This might not be a real memory, this might be one of my made-up memories, but let’s just check…” before beginning a story. We all burst into side-splitting laughter. This is coming from the sister who created imaginary holidays to foreign lands and told them to her teachers while her own mother was, helpfully, one of the teachers on staff. Things usually got sorted out pretty quick. It’s moments like these that make me ache to spend time as a whole family as often as possible.
My whole life I have been focused on the good of having 6 siblings and 4 parents. And there is SO MUCH GOOD. But there are also down sides. And they seem to be growing with time.
There are more regrets. More missed moments. More misunderstanding. And more people to keep up-to-date than seems humanly possible.
I am trying to make concerted efforts to share more with my family. To call them just because. To send out emails with exciting/important news. Share more pictures. Share more of myself. But it’s hard. Even though it’s my immediate family, with so many I can feel like I am spreading myself thin. My husband has one sister and two parents, his circle is small and I am sometimes jealous of the simplicity of his arrangement. But I would never change things in my family. Never in a million years. Because we love so much. Because we Groot clan are a beautiful mess. Because we go on trying to care for each other as best as we can. And in the end that is all that matters.
Dad, Grace, Mom, Chester, Mike, Heidi, Rueben, Jesse Fin, Sloane, David, James, Jocelyn, Judah, Kristen, PJ, Ben, Michael, Madeleine, Matthew, Lynn, Barney — I love you.
February 18, 2011 7 Comments
THE ROOF, THE ROOF, THE (CORPORATE) ROOF IS ON FIRE.
I began reading through my old (xanga) blog archives today. Here’s a gooder:
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THE ROOF, THE ROOF, THE (CORPORATE) ROOF IS ON FIRE.
THE QUESTION: Are corporations out of control? Does their pursuit of profit and power hurt society? Do people not know how to EVACUATE a building anymore??!!?
THE EVENT: Joel Baken’s book and documentary “The Corporation” was the topic of debate this afternoon. BC Almanac’s Mark Forsythe hosted the forum at the Vancouver Public Library and I was the smiling PR face. It was quite a gas. Drama. Drama. Drama.
THE USUAL: The usual anti-establishment boos and hisses echoed out in response to the Fraser Institute and Business Admin schoolrepresentatives’ conservative banter.
THE DRAMA: It all began with a little smoke on the third floor. Being in the bowels of the immense downtown library, we were unaware of the excitement unfolding overhead. We were suddenly barraged by the bellow of alarm. Mark, the host, coolly continued the debate even through calls to EVACUATE the upper floors. Every two minutes the sirens broke for another announcement that yet another floor must EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. It wasn’t until 8 minutes later that they finally cut to tape and we called it a day. At Mark’s command the 200+ in attendance rushed the door but not before asking me if they had won a copy of the book. Ack! NO!!! We were being EVACUATED. (I’m drawing for them tomorrow.) Do people not understand the meaning of the word - E-VAC-U-ATE??? One older man strolled into the evacuated building after hearing the chaos on-air. He walked up to me and calmly asked for a copy of the show - he commented that it sounded so ”Monty-Python-esque” AND HE JUST HAD TO HAVE IT. Classic. I referred him to the producer who promised we’d post it on-line for his listening pleasure, we then reminded him that he should probably EXIT the building.
THE COMEDY: The best part of this whole ordeal was the fact that thousands of people were evacuated because someone just couldn’t wait to light up - they took a few drags in the third floor bathroom and the rest, shall we say, is history. Oh the comedy.
Just another day in the life of a part-time CBCer.
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You can find the original post here.
February 10, 2011 No Comments
the kind i am. the writer i’m not.
i am not the mother writer who pours out lines like quarts of milk. i loathe her, the everyday blogger/writer/mother/poet, though i know i shouldn’t.
my lines rarely come in a flourish. i am a one line wonder. sometimes, slowly these words make their way into form. often they remain alone on the pages of journals, on scraps of magazines/napkins/bulletins i place in piles with care.
i often wonder about poets’ process. i thought it might be nice to show you how a poem might begin.
like this:
a line that came to me while looking through the bedroom window lying in bed one morning.
February 8, 2011 No Comments
Bowen Island Day Trip on Sweetmama.ca
My most recent contribution to Sweetmama.ca:
Bowen Island Day Trip
A short ferry ride from Horseshoe Bay, or a water taxi from Granville Island, will land you and your little ones at the mouth of Snug Cove — the start of your day’s exploration of quaint, artsy Bowen Island.
Best Lunch Spot: Artisan Eats Café & Fine Foods
For a nutritious and reasonably-priced kids’ menu that includes a free range mini-burger, cheesy noodles and yam fries ($5-7), head to this European-inspired market.
39 Artisan Ln.; 604-947-0190; www.artisaneats.ca
Best Shopping for All: Phoenix
Browse through books, toys and crafts at Phoenix, while tables of Playmobil entertain your children.
209 Village Sq.; 604-947-2793; www.phoenixonbowen.com
Best Splurges: Wren Boutique
From Dagg & Stacey and Granted knits, to select children’s pieces from Cielo and Hunter boots, owner Erin Norgan’s handpicked eco-offerings surpass the mainland’s best.
569 Artisan Ln.; 604-947-0050; www.wrenboutique.com
Best Treats: Cocoa West
Indulge in a luxurious hot chocolate, an “Unbelievably Good Egg” or a scoop of Mario’s Gelato at this Bowen institution.
581 Artisan Ln.; 604-947-2996; www.cocoawest.com
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Boy do they ever keep these pieces snappy. I think they cut over 50 words from my already ultra-tight submission. Either way, I’m happy to have profiled my favourite island!
February 6, 2011 No Comments
Storytelling Clothes, in Comment magazine
While this blog has been silent for some time my writing has continued to appear in some wonderful publications. My most recent article for Comment titled “Storytelling Clothes” appeared in December.
Click here to read the article in full. Here is a short excerpt:
Clothing is a topic to which we pay little mind except, perhaps, when the conditions in poorly ventilated sweat shops make the front page news. Like us, God cares about the woman behind the serger; but He also cares what we put on our backs. We seldom remember that the first garments were made by God for Adam and Eve in the Garden.
Teresa Smed, a Vancouver-based jewelry designer shared her thoughts on God’s concern with clothing. “I definitely think what we wear matters to God. I like to think about where everything comes from. Everything has a price. If your shoes are made by a child in a sweatshop in China — that has a cost. If I can clothe me and my kids with recycled clothing — it matters. I love fashion. I love accessories. People would call me ‘fashion forward.’ It’s about self-expression, and that’s okay. But where your treasure is your heart will be also.”
The story we’ve been telling
God never commanded us to get dressed. When he came looking for us we were crouched in Eden’s thicket hiding. We chose to cover parts of ourselves up, sin revealing impropriety.
“That’s how clothes can be,” comments designer Paul Hardy, a Christian anomaly in the world of high fashion. “It can go either way. In fashion, as in any other creative field, imagination can be used as an expression of edification or can prey on the insecurities of others.”
February 4, 2011 1 Comment
flat gingerale
photo above by crumpets and cakes
the blog goes silent. for months. and you wonder where your friend is. you wonder why your favourite blog has fallen quiet. i can tell you. she’s pregnant. unwillingly camped in a dry, barren desert we veterans call the creative badlands.
it happened at lovelydesign and at champagnewednesdays in their first few months. and it’s happened here. first with madeleine and now, again.
yes, i am expecting.
so here i sit at the kitchen table sipping a tumbler of flat gingerale while my one-year-old fills tupperware with oats by the handful.
(baby number two is due at the beginning of august.) :)
February 2, 2011 4 Comments















