Book Launch for Kiss Me in the Rain!

Pre-orders on sale now, Releases August 2, Book Launch August 15

...Happy Summer Everyone!

And so it starts...Summer, Calgary Stampede and Book Release count-down

Summer is fun. I tend to go mach ten to soak up every drop of summer fun that I possibly can. Still, I try to be organized, plan ahead, you know, facilitate the order so as to not get pulled under by the happy chaos. I'll let you know if that works out one of these days. :) I'm in the thick of pre-book launch madness (and it is glorious madness!!), but we took a pause break this morning to go to the Calgary Stampede Parade. Here is a wee pause break for you to check out some of the pics!

Couldn't help but feel those same emotions of gratitude and awe when this group walked past...the compassion and support and community strength during the Fort McMurray wildfires of 2016 will stay with us all a very long time.

Seriously, this dude is riding a bull. Full disclosure, I didn't check if it was a bull or steer.

The Calgary Stampede Show Riders = more horses for me to gawk at!

I took the pic of the banner as these kids were from a high school in Wisconsin, but man, they rocked it!
Sorry I didn't snap a mid-action pic!

HAPPY CALGARY STAMPEDE!

Happy Canada Day: Border Crossings, the first one

Happy Canada Day! This particular time, as in today through the Fourth is always a reflective time for me. I immigrated up seventeen years ago. Man, where did the time go? I love it up here, but also love where I came from. But instead of getting all mushy about the awesomeness of people and countries and landscapes, this will be the first of a handful of stories sharing my escapades crossing our beautiful shared border. Some are funny, some more serious, but all pay homage to the border guards keeping us all safe. Thank you for your service!

My first time crossing the border was eighteen years ago. I was coming up for an archaeology field school in Manitoba. One of my geography profs at the University of Wisconsin - Eau Claire asked what I was doing for the summer. Actually, I had been eying up a geology field school in Colorado but he vigorously shook his head. “No, no, no. You want to go to Canada.”
“I do?”
“Yes, for an archaeology field school. Six weeks living in a tent, digging and drinking beer with Canadians.”
That sounds about right for a twenty year old who likes travel, the outdoors, history and apparently beer, and looking for something cool to do that summer.

A couple weeks before I was scheduled to leave my prof asked if I minded if another of his students caught a ride with me. Sounded like splitting gas money. Back then I am sheepish to admit the shared expense was a bigger plus than the obvious environmental considerations of carpooling across several states and up into another country. I pay more attention to that sort of thing now. But I digress.

The other student was a forty-five year old ex-biker with long straggly hair and tattoos. I didn’t think much of the what or why of his appearance, but I’ll admit I took inventory of the situation. My spidy sense wasn’t freaking out and my prof obviously gave him the thumbs up as a safe traveling companion. Canadian Border Security did not.

Neither one of us had traveled to Manitoba before and we didn’t have the handy maps apps of today, let alone smart phones, that conveniently provide ETAs. We rolled into a 24-hour border crossing around 11pm and that’s when we were taken to separate rooms. I don’t know what his room looked like, mine just looked like a typical office with a big ‘ol desk and a nice border guard asking me repeatedly if I was there on my own accord, that I hadn’t been coerced, that I was okay. Safe. I showed him my paperwork from Brandon University, beaming at the upcoming adventure of learning how to do field archaeology. I didn’t clue in right away to what he was afraid was happening.

Maybe now’s a good time to mention that when I was twenty years old I looked twelve and probably looked just as naive. It was late at night, I was crossing the border, and with a man that looked significantly older than me and like he had lived at least part of his life on a rather rough side.

We were there for a few hours and kept apart. That was fine, I hadn’t ever crossed the Canadian border, for all I knew this was standard procedure. When we were allowed in and driving away my fellow student asked with snap, “Why didn’t they check you through interpol, too?”
“Because I look twelve and he thought you kidnapped me or worse.”
“Oh. Still isn’t fair.”
“No. He was trying to keep me safe.”
My travel companion was irate at being assumed super naughty, but seemed somewhat  mollified when I explained the questions they had asked me.

I don’t know what it is like to be routinely grilled by those in law enforcement positions, but I also am grateful for those border guards. They were just trying to keep a young woman safe. And the experience gave my fellow “mature student” plenty to laugh about later as he shared it around the campfire during that field school.

This summer, may your border crossings be safe, prompt and lead to incredible adventures. Happy traveling!

Spring Equinox 2016: Balance...and maybe that tipping point

Happy Spring Equinox. This is the day of balance, equal day, equal night, but also that pause before the tipping point into the growth and bloom of full-on spring. So to celebrate this celestial sweetness, I want to honour balance, but also how that prepares us for growth.

Great, what does that look like? What is balance? Well if you’re like me, there will be some things you just naturally know how to ride the wave and keep your balance, and others you get tossed around trying to stay up and it’s exhausting, not fluid or particularly graceful, and sometimes involves abysmal failure. Ug.

Loaded Potential

As I write this I wonder if we can look at where we do rock the balance and see if we can give ourselves pointers for the other stuff. For instance, physically, I have pretty good balance. My body pays attention to itself and can stay in a place of equilibrium . . . Damn, I never stopped to actually think about that before. Equilibrium. How do I achieve equilibrium in the areas of my life that are not in balance? Work/Life balance, my crazy long to-do list, how do I take a play out of my body balance book?

Small tweaks. Exaggerated movements just won’t work, at least for me they don’t. Apply enough pressure to create that positive, desired change, but not so much as to keep me still off balance just simply in the other direction.

What else . . . oh yeah, just decide to. If I channeled all the energy I spend ignoring or worrying about my to-do list and just hammered it out instead, that thing wouldn’t get out of control in the first place. I know, easier said then done, but this is a day of celestial balance, then tipping into growth. Let’s rock the balance and set up for beautiful growth.

Happy Spring.

Yellowknife Made Me a Gardener

I didn’t expect Yellowknife to have gigantic tomatoes. The Canadian Territories are leashed agriculturally by northern latitudes and brief windows to grow anything that’s not a native species. Or so I thought. One random August day I found myself in Yellowknife, NWT. I wasn’t looking for gardening bliss, but rather searching for the fabled Ragged Ass Road. Wanderers have a sense of humor and Yellowknife’s historical street-namers were no different. I wanted to see for myself the street that held bragging rights to such a conspicuous name. Besides, I have a souvenir code and if I wanted one of those green and white pseudo street signs boldly declaring Ragged Ass, I needed to actually see it.

With plenty of daylight left and being pointed in the general direction, I went exploring. Besides, I wanted to walk off lunch. It turns out that culinary prowess is also a trait of Yellowknife. The salmon and whitefish made perfect, spicy bedfellows in my rosé seafood chowder. I’m still dreaming of a second bowl.

I was caught off guard by the bright blue, yellow and red houses dotted around Great Slave Lake. It was as unexpected as finding the tundra rivalled New England in autumn glory. Yellowknife and her northern sisters were drawing me in, wrapping me around their Northwest Territory fingers and I wanted to see more.

Then I looked up the road and stopped short. It wasn’t Ragged Ass, but glass! A red deck had been transformed to a greenhouse and huge tomato plants boldly filled the large space. Vibrant and lush, the plants shimmered with vitality, and daring. I had always heard the north spoken of as an unforgiving climate, but I saw the plump fruits of ingenuity, determination and adaptation correcting my misconception.

I had found a Garden of Eden north of the 60th parallel. I wanted a tomato sandwich. I wanted to hold the slick smoothness of those plucky fruits in my hands. I wanted to shove my nose deep into the leaves, inhaling the punchy fragrance tomatoes alone have.

But that was private property and I was leaving in the morning. Gawking, but aware of the setting sun, I remembered my mission to Ragged Ass Road. It was a short, partial dirt road lined with a few houses and would have been mundane except for it’s name. But I knew its secret. The unassuming road had led me to magic that day. I was not a gardener when I went to Yellowknife, but I came back one.

*I first shared this story with World Nomads. Cool site and community for those into traveling. I'm pretty sure I'm older than their typical blogger. My footloose and fancy free days of traveling, backpacking and studying in different countries is a bit tempered by a mortgage (I LOVE my house), 2-legged and 4-legged kids (whew - they are total adventurers, too!), and a heady hankering to explore backcountry backpacking and road trips with the family.

Sometimes our itineraries change focus and we find whole new adventures to play in . . .  Never stop exploring!

Seed Catalogues and Marshalltown Trowels

Look what just came in the mail this week! 

I did it, I just did a happy dance. 

Each winter around this time the West Coast seed catalogue comes in the mail and I start dreaming of new garden beds, different heirloom varieties to try, and what I can tweak what I’m doing so the plants have a stronger chance. There is something exquisitely satisfying about growing your own vegetables, fruits and kitchen herbs. 

For anyone who is reading this and feeling the least bit intimidating, don’t!! My idea of a trowel still is my archaeology Marshalltown. Even now, I still use that one instead of a proper gardening one . . . except when I borrow my daughter’s “play” garden set. My mother-in-law got them for her and those things are metal, sturdy, and perfect for a bunch of the container gardening I do. She only sometimes rolls her eyes when I ask to borrow them. “Mom, you know those are toys, right?” Not if they do the job, then they’re implements.

Can you tell I did not grow up gardening. I figured when I grew up, you know, stopped living in a tent for archaeology field seasons and stop moving every fall/winter to a new city or town for school or work, I would eventually settle in one place long enough to be able to entertain the idea of gardening. Turns out Calgary was where we did that. For the gardeners out there, Calgary is Zone 3, with some pockets of Zone 2. I didn’t know what this meant, and I’m still learning how to play with how Mother Nature in my neck of the woods, ‘er . . . prairie. But what’s a perennial elsewhere works as an annual here. Our growing season is short, but the sun is hot and plants will all of a sudden take off across your yard (true story) when they get those long hot days of 30+ (90+ fahrenheit). 

This year a raspberry patch is so on the list! And more native species, too. No need to grumble about zone 3 when there really is a plethora of plants that have always thrived quite nicely here. As far as the rest...I’ll have a flip through the catalogue, research online and scour more books to see what to add to the usual seed and plant suspects.

Speaking of zones, I have a happy little gardening story that I will share Monday about my life-changing trip up to Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories. The Territories are many beautiful, wondrous things, but I never expected my trip up there for work to turn me into a gardner . . . stay tuned!

Happy Yule, Happy Winter Solstice!

Mountains make pretty magical snowflakes.

Today is the Winter Solstice. It’s the longest night of the year, the shortest day, and I looove it. Last night we picked Grandma up from the airport and were treated to the soft shimmering of green Aurora Borealis. They really do dance across the sky. Gosh, it's such a treat to see them! The pretty display didn’t last long, but it brought such a sense of magic and wonder to this already wonderful time of year. It was quite a stellar welcome for both grandma and the Solstice.

Some holidays are boisterous, full of revelry and merry-making. For me that will start in a few days when we celebrate Christmas. Yay! Spending holidays with family and friends totally fills my bucket. I’ll be honest, the Holidays used to bring me so much stress and unresolved emotions, but now I allow myself to soak up all the joy and happiness of the season and just have fun. Stress and baggage can wait for another day, because now is the time to be merry. 

And for me, today is the quiet reflection of Yule before the upcoming boisterous, happy storm. When I celebrate the birth of the sun, the wheel turning again, the tipping point where the days start to get longer again, I like to keep it soft and quiet and just silently beam all day. It is a very good day.

It really is a wonderful time of the year. However you celebrate, have a wonderful Holiday Season full of Peace, Joy, Love and Fun! Happy Holidays!