“unless they are sent by intervention from the Most High, pay no attention to them.” - sirach 34:6

Photo by lovely design

It has hurt my heart just a little bit more each month how much I wish Madeleine could have her very own room. A bright, lovely space with all of the little things little girls love. Shelves brimming with books. Felt flowers dangling from the windowsill. A handmade banner stringing the letters of her name. Baskets chalk full of trinkets and toys.

Right now, in our two bedroom place, she has to share with our desk, printer and clunky filing cabinets. But not for long… Soon she will have her own room on Bowen Island and then in Toronto, where a three bedroom home is planned. 

Sharilyn, of lovely design, continuously inspires me with the delightful space she’s created for her little Adelaide. Soon my sweet girl will have the same. And I am so grateful.

My most recent article appeared in the New York-based Curator last Friday. You can give it a read here.

An excerpt:

“There’s no question that technology has overrun our lives. Over the past century, the world has welcomed technological ‘progress’ with arms wide open and we’re living with the clicking, dinging, anxiety-inducing deluge of it.

But a creative backlash is underway, helping human beings cope with the avalanche of data that passes in front of most of us every day through the use of computers and cell phones.

Slow food, the back-to-the-land movement, and groups like letter writing clubs are being formed by a new subculture: the 21st century luddite, wielding fountain pen and notebook, and some checking e-mail from the public library a mere hour per week. Dolen and Fedoruk think this movement is more than a blip on the technological continuum…”

This may be my favourite article to date. I hope you enjoy it!

God’s not dead
because I thought him/her so
like the holocaust nay-sayers
the animated moon walkers stabbing two inch toothpicks into three mile styrofoam craters unlikely green

God’s not dead
because we’ve lost some children
now witness to blinking nail bed growing in woman womb
delivering half-way placentas nine pound eleven ounce spirits through openings that for thirty years were smaller than bar soap bent to its circumference
making all labia-living believers

God’s not dead
because city does not become her/him
forgetting book promises cambodian valleys cave to hazel life
seven year pupils erasing invisibility lip-spoken not theirs
up climbing through arm of unlikely stranger
otherworldly kindness our universal language

:::

Part of Imperfect Prose Thursdays

Photo by me

We’ve been here ten days. Seen a dozen neighbourhoods. Walked a hundred brick streets. Sipped a dozen morning Second Cups. Ate some of the best this city has to offer. Bought street neighbours morning meals. Swung our daughter on seven different swing sets. Picnicked in Christie Park. Ambled along the lake. Rode the ferry to Toronto Island. Caught up with old friends. Befriended a mother and daughter in Union Station. Caught a show at Free Times Cafe. Enjoyed the honest help of many a transit employee. Carried strollers up and down too many flights of stairs. Lazed over morning meal at Cora’s. Endured record humidity and torrential downpours and survived (mostly) with humourous disposition. Fell in love with South Annex, Roncesvalles Village, and Trinity-Bellwoods. Indulged in the lovely weekend bustle of our ‘old’ neighbourhood - St. Lawrence Market.

Toronto, I see you could become home.

We stand at intersection. Black suit universal pause, here at Bay and King. She’s staring up at you. Boulder eyes, size of the moon. Seeking face. Your upwards morning mouth, silent words: ‘Yes child, I see you. The world is good.’

Ignore me, I don’t care, but turn your gaze on these innocent eyes because they won’t remain forever so.

Image by Totomel

I have fallen in love with books. (A strange confession for a woman of words, I know. I’m a late bloomer.) Non-fiction. Memoir. Discovering I am not crazy (Sylvia Plath was crazier.) I’m not alone (Mary Karr keeps me company.) I’m not the only one secretly hoping for a threatening disease to excuse her from really living (Carlene Bauer confesses our shame.) I will myself into Sabrina Ward Harrison’s able hands, Annie Dillard’s pleasant vulgarity, Luci Shaw’s verse, and Kathleen Norris’ lovely sheets. Unfolding my knownness, giving colour of eye, shape of mouth, to the God I confess.

:::

Part of Imperfect Prose Thursdays

I’ve been a bit silent about our planned moves on this space, mostly because I’ve been in the midst of wrapping my own head around it. It feels like the ground beneath our feet is shifting but, surprisingly, I feel unafraid.

I am typing this post from Toronto. We arrived on Friday after a perfect travel day with Madeleine. I was even able to watch an entire movie (Date Night — awesome) while she slept in my arms on the plane. We’re here for ten days for Michael’s work and to explore neighbourhoods. It’s become increasingly clear that Michael needs to be here for work as he is the sole member of his work team in Vancouver. His role has given him a lot of flexibility, even allowing him to work from home the majority of the time and this has been a huge blessing, but the time has come to make the shift east as things transition within his company.

I have lived in Vancouver all my life, save for three months in Queenstown, New Zealand in 1998 and in Toronto three months last year. The West Coast is my home. It pains me to leave. The ocean is my lifeblood. I adore the green, the mountains, rainforest, the islands. I relish being close to my parents, most of my siblings and my grandparents. I love Main Street, Gastown, Granville Island and Commercial. I adore the girls at our neighbourhood coffee shop who greet Madeleine and I with shrieks and giggles and discounted coffee every morning. I love play dates with my mom friends: Wendy and Claire, my Mother’s Unfolding gals. I love Jenn, Megan, Marisa, Avital, Steph, Hoda, Mathew… and all of my dear friends in my beautiful hometown. Yet change calls and I know in my heart it’s the right thing. 

Being here has given me even more hope. We explored Queen West, hippy-dippy Harbord and the Ossington neighbourhoods yesterday. We enjoyed brunch with Amanda and Dean at a lovely french bistro near St. Lawrence Market this afternoon. Afterwards Madeleine and I rummaged through the outdoor market befriending sunny Toronto smiles. It’s a lovely city. There’s much in store for us here.

Linux Caffe, Harbord Street, Toronto

But I know moving downtown will be a huge transition, not as difficult as leaving our family and friends, but nearly. So, though our condo went on the market over a week ago, we’re not moving to Toronto until next spring. After spending three months here last year, I refuse to make the move at the peak of ice-winter. I want to move to the city when the buds are brimming. So to pass the time we’re going to live on Bowen Island from October to March, after our house sells.   

It’s Michael’s gift to me. Before moving our family to the downtown bustle of Canada’s largest city I am desperate for a quiet retreat — a small season for us to nest as a family in a remote, wooded retreat.

Bowen Island

The house we’ll be renting on Bowen is more than I could have hoped for. It has four bedrooms plus den, a huge open concept main floor, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, an upstairs bathroom complete with a jacuzzi and skylight, and an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean. Good friends of ours live just down the drive and kayaks beckon for a morning turn on the shore below. 

I can hardly wait to begin the next leg of our adventure…

Welcome, Baby Sloane! (my first niece)

Congrats Michael and Heidi, and big brothers Reuben and Jesse Fin. Sending love in these lovely, early days…

Here are a smattering of our summer so far. 

Playing with neighbour Mia at our favourite park.

Helping daddy barbecue on the patio. Sort of. 

Vegas Trip… the three sisters unite!

Me with my lovely 20-week pregnant sister Kristen (who lives there) and my inspiring, world-traveling sister Lynn (who moves to Australia this week and is marrying her Aussie sweetheart next spring)

I gambled a whopping $1 while waiting for our show (Cirque du Soliel’s Ka) to start

Fourth of July party in a gated community with these cute kiddies. Madeleine has little boy crushes. She just loved this guy, and the puppy.

Miss Madeleine discovered Nickelodeon TV. 

Hanging with uncle PJ - the soon-to-be-papa. 

Madeleine and her dolla-dolla bill.

The Bellagio lobby. Everything you see is made of individual flower blossoms.

Auntie Lynnie and Madeleine.

Bellagio lobby. All individual stained glass bowls on the ceiling. 

Paris Hotel and Casino.

Patiently waiting, way past her bedtime, to watch the Bellagio fountain show. 

Baby got free reign on the toilet paper in our hotel room. Toddler heaven.

Ready for the pool.

Green Valley Resort.

View on Vanier Beach this week — en route to the Bard on the Beach tents for a sweet date night. Much Ado About Nothing is brilliantly cast this year!

Playing on Grandma and Grandpa’s lawn at the goodbye dinner for my brother Matt (moving to Calgary) and sister Lynn. We dined on the spectacular 62-pound halibut my dad caught in the Queen Charlotte’s last week. 

Playing with cousin Reuben. Lady loves lego.

Ambling with Uncle James and Aunt Jocelyn - who are expecting a baby next month. Groot baby city. 

Relaxing on Bowen Island with daddy. I think we found our dream house for this winter.

Godfather Matthew catching a snooze on the patio. This’ll be our view soon. 

Family day in Horseshoe Bay. That rhymed. Trolls for dinner. Mmmm…

Meeting my niece two days ago. Her name is forthcoming… Congratulations Michael and Heidi!!

Gorgeous mama and baby.

Proud papa Mike (holding his one-day-old,) watching the Holland v Spain final. 

Madeleine lamenting Holland’s loss. 

Happy Summer one and all!

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.”

- Helen Keller