Things one should never outgrow:

fishing, no matter when.

Things the deserve the stink-eye:

Thanks neighbours from Nova Scotia!
(And shout out to the Atlantic Ocean too.)

Sure. They're tasty. But ugly. Like nightmare inducing ugly. Ditto lobster. Ditto octopus. Ditto head cheese. Whoa. My brain just combined all these into crab-lobster-octopus head cheese. Sorry.

Things that deserve the stink-nose:

I know a guy who needs this so I bought it for him.

Don't ask. (But oh the stories I could tell.)

The answer?

Run Tortoise! Run!
source

What do all these things have in common?

1. The weather. As Mark Twain said, “Everyone complains about the weather but no one does anything about it.”
2. Drivers: some drive too slow, some too fast, some too recklessly, some too cautiously and that’s why they remind me of Goldilocks.
3. Parenting. As the saying goes, “one characteristic of the normal child is that s/he doesn't act that way very often.”
4. Waiting. Life can be like that spinning circle of dots on your computer screen: loading-loading-loading.
5. Goals. Some may say this is poor word choice, but even turtles run.    
6. Change. Turn the page or don’t: it’s your story. One thing though: who will want to read yours?
7. Relationships. Listen carefully or you will miss the best parts.
8. Peter Jackson movies. The longer the movie, the longer the movie.
9. Being an Oilers fan. That awkward moment when someone is crying and it’s you.
10. Fishing. As Steven Wright says, “there’s a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.”

The answer? They all require extreme patience. Sometimes is seems like learning patience is taking forever.

Things one should never outgrow:

expecting great things whether you catch them or not.

"I love fishing. You put that line in the water and you don't know what's on the other end. Your imagination is under there." ~Robert Altman

#happyCanadaday

?

What better thing to do with your suddenly discovered long, l-o-n-g dead missing frog than to mount his head like some sort of odd hunting trophy?

#youknowyoureredneckwhen
#sherri&teresa&mac
#myfamilyisweird
#dingdongs

It is.

One foot in the Mediterranean,
the other somewhere else. 

When I was little one of the first road-trips my parents took me on was to Flin Flon, Manitoba. If you’re not familiar, this town is located about six hours northeast of Saskatoon. And from my current location in Northern Alberta it’s about eighteen hours away.

If you love nature, you’d love this place. It’s classic Canadian Shield. And it’s not in the middle of nowhere, it’s in the middle of amazing nowhere. (I happen to love nowhere.) A mining town I guess, everything is built on rock. The way I remember it, the town weaves around rocks that look like they were kicked around by giants and abandoned. Rocks and precarious houses and deep lakes and sudden islands and spruce trees and more rocks. Before I was born, my Dad worked there. He seemed excited to share this place with me. And I totally got it.

Ever go someplace new and it doesn’t feel strange at all? That’s what it felt like for me. About a three hour trip from where I grew up in Saskatchewan, we arrived early enough to be seated in a restaurant around 9 a.m. Manitoba time. We had gained an hour. Despite the time, I ordered a cheeseburger. My nine-year-old self thought that was the best breakfast ever. 

Decades later, I was in a medical doctor’s office in Alberta talking about feeling tired and stressed and confused and the doctor looked at me and said, “Ever been to Flin Flon?” Surprised, I shared my Flin Flon story. Then he added, “You need to go back to Flin Flon. It’s the best fishing ever.” Basically, he prescribed a vacation. 

What are the chances I would meet up with another Flin Flon fan? Here’s my point: the world is a small town. It is.

Things one should never outgrow:

sunset pondering.

#messageinthesky?

20 things I want right now:

1. teleportation.

2. root beer.

3. a tape-worm (just temporarily).

4. Spring.

5. Nigella Lawson to cook for me.

6. one more conversation with my Dad.

7. my childhood cat.

8. time travel capabilities so I can check out the future for a just a few moments here and there every once in a while without any negative ripple-effect type repercussions. 

9. and/or a few do-overs too (without said consequences).

10. for wishful thinking to have power. 

11. a new roof.

12. the same lottery ticket everyone else wants.

13. another veggie burger at the chalet here.

14. all the stupid things I've ever said to disappear like the dark before the painted clouds at sunrise.

15. tickets to Coldplay and an invitation from them to collaborate on a song.

16. someone to wash and cut my hair.

17. no more aches and pains.

18. a whole bunch of snow for my son.

19. plus one more thing for you.

20. and for you too.

Wordfuse (Saskatchewan Edition)

Care to hug a barbed-wire buffalo?
Just Saskatchewander right over to North Battleford, Saskatchewan.

Road trip! Visiting family, we are about to become Saskatchewanderers again. I can't take credit for this wordfuse; there really is a Saskatchewanderer. Now that's a sweet summer job.

You'd like Saskatchewan. It's totally Canada's backyard. Think barbeques. Family picnics. It's homey. It's happy. It's also lakes. And fishing. And really big gophers. (Some are flat on the highway, but still.) It's wide, wide open sky and all the space one could ever dream of. It's a geo-cacher's dream. And it's mostly NOT flat, but I must admit, aesthetically, I love a strong horizon line. It's also a blend of cultures and history. Bannock S'mores anyone? Perogie Pizza? Did I mention lakes?

Anyway, I've traveled all over plenty of it and these are some of my favourite places about my long-ago but fondly remembered home province (in no particular order):  

1. Lloydminster's border. You can stand in two different provinces at the same time. Or even hop back and forth between the two. That's sort of the story of my life. Cool.

2. Batoche, especially the cemetery. A bit of time travel. Ever hear of Gabriel Dumont? Louis Riel?

3. Broadway Avenue in Saskatoon. Art. Food. Music. Improv. Awesome. No wonder Joni Mitchell grew up in this city.

4. Where modern mingles with dinosaurs: the University of Saskatchewan campus in Saskatoon. Inspiring.

5. I got engaged here: Mendel Art Gallery.

6. Tobin Lake has big fish. Seriously.

7. Have you ever seen the Canadian Shield? Think mountains after they've been stomped on. Or like Jenga right after the collapse. That's Creighton, Saskatchewan and nearby Flin Flon, Manitoba.

8. I was always jealous of my childhood friend Edwina because she got to go to Camp Easter Seal. One summer though, we went to visit her and swam in a nearby salt-water lake. Go bobbing, without the apples.
9. And here's one place I hope to see as we Saskatchewander this trip: The Crooked Bush.
10. And finally...

Grandma & Grandpa's backyard. Pure love.

Zoetic

Image from here.

Zoetic. I stumbled upon this word seeking the perfect adjective to describe that sensation when the sun feels like a blanket instead of a stare. Like it did today.

Zoetic. So poetic. The word apparently derives from science, from biology in particular: "pertaining to life."

It's a cell. The "smallest unit of life classified as a living thing" is zoetic. Any type of cell really. Any composition. Like bacteria. Or the soft hair of a newborn. Or the seed hidden, protected and waiting inside the pine tree's cone. It's potential. It's life.

Yet sometimes life, numbed by fatigue, can feel anything but alive.

But today made me pay attention to the zoetic.

Isn't it surprising what makes us feel most alive? It can be something as simple as the much-longed for life-sustaining sunlight on a belated spring day. Or even the opposite.

I think I was nine years old and my heart banged around in my chest like a rabbit trying to escape its cage. That day, along with my cousins and my friend Edwina (who really was my family too), we were fishing at Tobin Lake. Standing on a summer day in still water up to our waists, we weren't going to catch anything there. We were really only pretending. Our parents were on the beach, chatting, relaxing. I think Edwina let go of her fishing rod and started splashing us. We dodged her but remained where we were. Her splashing seemed half-hearted, silly but not really playful. Somehow strange. I remember thinking, she looks drunk like my Uncle Murray does when he wants to dance with my Mom. And then her head went under like being wiped off the counter top. I also remember thinking I should be doing something but what was I supposed to do with my fishing rod? My Dad told me never to let go of my fishing rod. Surfacing, Edwina coughed and laughed and spit and flapped and then I wondered if she had caught a fish. Or if she was becoming a fish? Some woozy mermaid. I turned to look at my parents. No one was coming. I felt blood rush to my head. I looked around. Stricken, my cousin Laurel stared back. Her eyes told me Edwina was drowning. Finally someone yelled and Edwina's father sauntered into the water. I still don't know what took him so long.

A juvenile diabetic, Edwina was having a seizure. The first of many which I would witness several times over the next decade.

And watching her struggle that day, I had never really felt more alive.

Zoetic. Paralyzed and watching near loss of life is oddly zoetic. I understand why now. I think I do. I think fear makes our cells rage. Adrenalin surges. Survival starts throwing punches. And the struggle, our own or others' reminds us to grasp the zoetic. And hold on. And live. Instead of just exist.

Favourite Places

This is my son's new favourite place, along the local River. Mine too.