I stayed home from the festival events on Wednesday in favour of doing things around the house. Thursday night I was back at the main stage working the merchandise table, Friday I hung out with Lisa, and Saturday was my marathon day that began at 10am with a writer's workshop with Gilles Blunt.
The workshop was great. I've taken a few writing courses and listened to a number of authors speak about the writing process but each time I do manage to take away something new and helpful. Gilles spoke about the structure of a good plot. I love hearing about structure and method in writing. Even though writing is a creative art there are common elements and patterns to good stories. I think it's important to understand those basics and from there a writer can apply the creativity to create a new story.
Blunt also commented about how there's a lot of bad writing out there that some how makes it to the best sellers list anyway. This was refreshing to hear. I get frustrated when I pick up a book that has commendations from the New York Times and yet find myself not enjoying it at all. I wonder if he thinks the same sometimes applies to books that have won literary awards. One book he kept mentioning as an example of good story-telling and writing is No Country for Old Men. I'm going to read that one and maybe start working my way through the classics. I used to love reading when I was a kid, but it seemed like it was a lot easier to find quality stuff in the kids and young adult genre. Is it any wonder then that I like working in that genre myself?
I met a lot of people this week and usually after we traded names the next question was, "so, are you a writer?" I wish I could have said yeah, I'm working on something right now, or, I've had some stuff published. Instead I say that I blog, I work in corporate communications, and I'm trying to get back into writing more. I don't like that that is my response. I wish I was doing more. I don't want to be one of those people who never does anything with her talent. I was in a room with 50 other aspiring authors in that workshop. How many of us will actually publish a novel? How many of us already have? I don't want to be in the group who doesn't make it. I'm just going to have to find a way to do it.
No cute poets this year, no winning of door prizes, only one book purchase, but I did get a good nudge to get on with putting time back into writing.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
These shoes
"I'm having a shoe crisis," I announce, standing in K's office doorway.
"What are you talking about? You look great," he says.
"I can't decide if I should wear these ones or some plain black ones," I say. The shoes I am wearing are black with white top stitching and a buckle across the toe.
"Those are great shoes," K assures me.
"I used to have girls who I could go to in times like these," I say. "You're my girl now." K does not appreciate this role but he laughs.
"What's with the crisis? You got something you're trying to look good for?"
I just smile and reply, "Always."
What I didn't tell K was that these shoes were to take me to two important rendezvous. I'm not sure if they had the desired effect, but I can't imagine they hurt my cause. I wouldn't call these shoes one of my favourite pairs but they do seem to collect compliments easily. Walking into the venue for my volunteer shift at the Writers Festival tonight one of the festival staff, who I met last year, calls out to me, "I love your shoes". Earlier in the day when I was at the late afternoon book talk some random woman gave me the same compliment.
They're not even real leather or a name brand. I bought these shoes at Winners and there is a stamp inside that I love--it says "Vegetarian" and around that says "All Man Made Materials". Clever.
I'm falling asleep at the keyboard here. This story doesn't have a nice neat ending but I just wanted to document my day with These Shoes, in case today becomes a significant part of my bigger story.
"What are you talking about? You look great," he says.
"I can't decide if I should wear these ones or some plain black ones," I say. The shoes I am wearing are black with white top stitching and a buckle across the toe.
"Those are great shoes," K assures me.
"I used to have girls who I could go to in times like these," I say. "You're my girl now." K does not appreciate this role but he laughs.
"What's with the crisis? You got something you're trying to look good for?"
I just smile and reply, "Always."
What I didn't tell K was that these shoes were to take me to two important rendezvous. I'm not sure if they had the desired effect, but I can't imagine they hurt my cause. I wouldn't call these shoes one of my favourite pairs but they do seem to collect compliments easily. Walking into the venue for my volunteer shift at the Writers Festival tonight one of the festival staff, who I met last year, calls out to me, "I love your shoes". Earlier in the day when I was at the late afternoon book talk some random woman gave me the same compliment.
They're not even real leather or a name brand. I bought these shoes at Winners and there is a stamp inside that I love--it says "Vegetarian" and around that says "All Man Made Materials". Clever.
I'm falling asleep at the keyboard here. This story doesn't have a nice neat ending but I just wanted to document my day with These Shoes, in case today becomes a significant part of my bigger story.
Monday, September 20, 2010
eyes hood bee
Day one of the Writers Festival main stage events. I attended. I showed up an hour early because I thought the show started at 7:15 but actually it starts at eight. I killed time walking around The Forks and kicked myself for not being at the gym. I should be, I should be...
It was a drizzly, damp, foggy evening, which seemed like the perfect occasion for a latte, not to mention a good way to sip away some time. I talked myself out of it though, saving myself a good 200-300 calories and four dollars. At least I won that battle.
When it was closer to eight I went back to the venue and browsed the book table. I bumped into someone I used to work with at Good-Wooden Leg and got into a conversation with her about the writing thing. She's been doing some workshops. She asked me what I've been doing in pursuit of my calling. She was the second person to ask today.
I barely listened to the readings tonight. Mostly I was distracted by my guilt and inner nag. I should be, I should be, I should be.
I should be writing every day. I should be preparing pieces for submission. I should be editing my 50,000 word manuscript. I should be going to the gym five days a week, at least. I should be drinking more water. I should be eating less carbs. I should be dating. I should be doing laundry. I should be, I should be. Eyes hood be.
On the way home I heard a new song on the radio. These are the lyrics:
When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are
Just the Way You Are--Bruno Mars
Personally, I'm a much bigger fan of Billy Joel's take on the sentiment, however, the song was a good cure for the I Should Be ear worm in my head. I am who I am and that's good enough for me. I don't need to be anything else today. I am not wasting or losing time. I will get done all the things I want to do. I am focused right now on certain aspects of my life and when I have those things in order, I will move on to my next challenge. I don't need to change a thing or do more to be amazing. I am there already and that isn't a characteristic that is going away.
Dear Self, here is a song for you. Love always, Me.
Don't go changing, to try and please me
You never let me down before
Don't imagine you're too familiar
And I don't see you anymore
I wouldn't leave you in times of trouble
We never could have come this far
I took the good times, I'll take the bad times
I'll take you just the way you are
Don't go trying some new fashion
Don't change the color of your hair
You always have my unspoken passion
Although I might not seem to care
I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard
I just want someone that I can talk to
I want you just the way you are.
I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew
What will it take till you believe in me
The way that I believe in you.
I said I love you and that's forever
And this I promise from the heart
I could not love you any better
I love you just the way you are.
Just the Way You Are--Billy Joel
It was a drizzly, damp, foggy evening, which seemed like the perfect occasion for a latte, not to mention a good way to sip away some time. I talked myself out of it though, saving myself a good 200-300 calories and four dollars. At least I won that battle.
When it was closer to eight I went back to the venue and browsed the book table. I bumped into someone I used to work with at Good-Wooden Leg and got into a conversation with her about the writing thing. She's been doing some workshops. She asked me what I've been doing in pursuit of my calling. She was the second person to ask today.
I barely listened to the readings tonight. Mostly I was distracted by my guilt and inner nag. I should be, I should be, I should be.
I should be writing every day. I should be preparing pieces for submission. I should be editing my 50,000 word manuscript. I should be going to the gym five days a week, at least. I should be drinking more water. I should be eating less carbs. I should be dating. I should be doing laundry. I should be, I should be. Eyes hood be.
On the way home I heard a new song on the radio. These are the lyrics:
When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are
Just the Way You Are--Bruno Mars
Personally, I'm a much bigger fan of Billy Joel's take on the sentiment, however, the song was a good cure for the I Should Be ear worm in my head. I am who I am and that's good enough for me. I don't need to be anything else today. I am not wasting or losing time. I will get done all the things I want to do. I am focused right now on certain aspects of my life and when I have those things in order, I will move on to my next challenge. I don't need to change a thing or do more to be amazing. I am there already and that isn't a characteristic that is going away.
Dear Self, here is a song for you. Love always, Me.
Don't go changing, to try and please me
You never let me down before
Don't imagine you're too familiar
And I don't see you anymore
I wouldn't leave you in times of trouble
We never could have come this far
I took the good times, I'll take the bad times
I'll take you just the way you are
Don't go trying some new fashion
Don't change the color of your hair
You always have my unspoken passion
Although I might not seem to care
I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard
I just want someone that I can talk to
I want you just the way you are.
I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew
What will it take till you believe in me
The way that I believe in you.
I said I love you and that's forever
And this I promise from the heart
I could not love you any better
I love you just the way you are.
Just the Way You Are--Billy Joel
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Challenge: Squeeze more out of life
The title of this post is a reference to the heightened level of activity in my life for the next little while. It all kicked off this weekend with a corporate event on Saturday afternoon. I had to attend because the two athletes my employer sponsors were making appearances there and, as the golfing one has said, I am the official "handler". The golfer was the first one to show up. He greeted me with a warm hug. The last time I saw him we were sitting on a golf hole for five hours in damp, cold weather. Through some getting to know one another better questioning I discovered that I probably played hide and go seek with him and some other neighbourhood kids when I was 13. Winnipeg is just too freakin' small.
After the event I headed over to Nigel and Susan's house that they were moving into. I had wanted to come out in the morning to help them with the move but the plans got sidetracked by the corporate duties. I was too late to be useful although I did bring a package of hot dogs and buns that the crew ate with relish (well actually I didn't see anyone put relish on their buns but I heard that the food was very much appreciated). Once the crew of parents was gone I sat out on the front porch with Nigel and Susan and drank--get this--a beer. I didn't even hate it. Well, afterward my stomach protested the unusual presence of a carbonated liquid in there, but going down the beer was actually approximating tasty.
On the way home I stopped off at the grocery store and picked up a bag of cauliflower and some other things to make cauliflower soup. It turned out tasty and there is enough to sustain me for a few days.
I retired to bed early so that I could get up early on Sunday for my planned excursion to the country. Today was the first ever Open Farm Day in Manitoba. Organized by the provincial government, a number of farms across the province opened their doors and hearts to the general public. I saw this as a perfect opportunity for a Sunday adventure. I picked out three farms I wanted to visit, plugged the coordinates into my GPS and hit GO!
It was a beautiful drive out. I had the music on, the sun was shining and warm and the trees are all turning colours now. I had one dark thought as I approached my first destination--what a better way to lure an unsuspecting city girl to a remote location where no one will hear her scream. But those thoughts passed quickly as I got out and saw families playing with lambs and a group of ladies hand spinning wool.
The sheep farm I stopped at was fascinating. I got up and close with some merino sheep and couldn't get enough of hearing them bleating.
I watched the farmer shear one of the sheep who didn't seem to mind at all.
I listened to him talk about how he takes care of his animals. What a science. They eat mostly hay and grass, a seemingly simple diet, but if the hay isn't good that year it affects their coats which then affects the quality of the yarns. I could have stayed and listened to him talk for longer but I ducked out and headed for my second destination.
I should note that I had to do some work to plot my route into the GPS device. Farms of course don't have normal addresses, the once I visited were on rural roads that you can't really search for on the GPS so I consulted Google maps based on the directions given in the Open Farm Day booklet, and then found this java script for finding the coordinates of the location.
For the first farm the coordinates were almost right but some directional signage helped me get the right turn off. For the second farm I was way off. I turned where GPS lady told me and headed down a gravel road which eventually turned into a black dirt road. I turned off of that road onto another gravel road, but when GPS lady told me I was to turn right and arrive at my destination, there was no road to turn down, only ditch and fields.
So I retraced my path. As I was driving down the dirt road again I was smiling. I was a girl and her Chevy pick up, cruising through rural Manitoba singing along to Belinda Carlyle on the radio. Sometime's it's fun to be a cliche.
After some sign reading, some highway crossing, some map consulting and turning around, I got back on track. I figured it out myself! I soon arrived at my next stop--a pig farm specializing in natural and humane farming practices.
I toured the barns. Yeah, they didn't smell so sweet. There were pigs of all sizes, from some wee little piglets that had only been born around 10pm the night before, right up to the massive boar. Before I left I bought some pork chops because the farmer promised that his pork tastes nothing like the mass produced stuff you buy in the stores. My mom is always lamenting that her daughters have probably never tasted real pork since the stuff they sell now isn't like what pork was before people started going crazy for super lean meats.
On the way to the main highway from the pork farm I noticed some horses grazing in a pasture. I decided to pull over and go meet them. They were so beautiful. One of them I took a special liking to. She was blonde, like me, blonder even (if horses can be blonde, I don't know what the proper horse term is for a fair-coloured pony. I'm a city girl). She came right up to the fence and even nuzzled my ear. If I was a horse I'd want to be like her.
Driving home I thought about the career path I am on and how I got here. I realized that if I were the person I am now back in high school when I was choosing my path, I don't know that I would have known what I wanted to go into. Maybe I would have gone into something in the faculty of agriculture, or culinary arts, or something in the sciences. I might have even taken some poli-sci or history classes. I have no regrets, but I would love now to have a year that I could spend exploring all my different interests.
Tomorrow is the first day of the 2010 Writers Festival. Remember how much fun I had volunteering last year? I'm doing it again, which will make for a very busy week. Hopefully something blogworthy happens.
After the event I headed over to Nigel and Susan's house that they were moving into. I had wanted to come out in the morning to help them with the move but the plans got sidetracked by the corporate duties. I was too late to be useful although I did bring a package of hot dogs and buns that the crew ate with relish (well actually I didn't see anyone put relish on their buns but I heard that the food was very much appreciated). Once the crew of parents was gone I sat out on the front porch with Nigel and Susan and drank--get this--a beer. I didn't even hate it. Well, afterward my stomach protested the unusual presence of a carbonated liquid in there, but going down the beer was actually approximating tasty.
On the way home I stopped off at the grocery store and picked up a bag of cauliflower and some other things to make cauliflower soup. It turned out tasty and there is enough to sustain me for a few days.
I retired to bed early so that I could get up early on Sunday for my planned excursion to the country. Today was the first ever Open Farm Day in Manitoba. Organized by the provincial government, a number of farms across the province opened their doors and hearts to the general public. I saw this as a perfect opportunity for a Sunday adventure. I picked out three farms I wanted to visit, plugged the coordinates into my GPS and hit GO!
It was a beautiful drive out. I had the music on, the sun was shining and warm and the trees are all turning colours now. I had one dark thought as I approached my first destination--what a better way to lure an unsuspecting city girl to a remote location where no one will hear her scream. But those thoughts passed quickly as I got out and saw families playing with lambs and a group of ladies hand spinning wool.
The sheep farm I stopped at was fascinating. I got up and close with some merino sheep and couldn't get enough of hearing them bleating.
I watched the farmer shear one of the sheep who didn't seem to mind at all.
I listened to him talk about how he takes care of his animals. What a science. They eat mostly hay and grass, a seemingly simple diet, but if the hay isn't good that year it affects their coats which then affects the quality of the yarns. I could have stayed and listened to him talk for longer but I ducked out and headed for my second destination.
I should note that I had to do some work to plot my route into the GPS device. Farms of course don't have normal addresses, the once I visited were on rural roads that you can't really search for on the GPS so I consulted Google maps based on the directions given in the Open Farm Day booklet, and then found this java script for finding the coordinates of the location.
For the first farm the coordinates were almost right but some directional signage helped me get the right turn off. For the second farm I was way off. I turned where GPS lady told me and headed down a gravel road which eventually turned into a black dirt road. I turned off of that road onto another gravel road, but when GPS lady told me I was to turn right and arrive at my destination, there was no road to turn down, only ditch and fields.
So I retraced my path. As I was driving down the dirt road again I was smiling. I was a girl and her Chevy pick up, cruising through rural Manitoba singing along to Belinda Carlyle on the radio. Sometime's it's fun to be a cliche.
After some sign reading, some highway crossing, some map consulting and turning around, I got back on track. I figured it out myself! I soon arrived at my next stop--a pig farm specializing in natural and humane farming practices.
I toured the barns. Yeah, they didn't smell so sweet. There were pigs of all sizes, from some wee little piglets that had only been born around 10pm the night before, right up to the massive boar. Before I left I bought some pork chops because the farmer promised that his pork tastes nothing like the mass produced stuff you buy in the stores. My mom is always lamenting that her daughters have probably never tasted real pork since the stuff they sell now isn't like what pork was before people started going crazy for super lean meats.
On the way to the main highway from the pork farm I noticed some horses grazing in a pasture. I decided to pull over and go meet them. They were so beautiful. One of them I took a special liking to. She was blonde, like me, blonder even (if horses can be blonde, I don't know what the proper horse term is for a fair-coloured pony. I'm a city girl). She came right up to the fence and even nuzzled my ear. If I was a horse I'd want to be like her.
Driving home I thought about the career path I am on and how I got here. I realized that if I were the person I am now back in high school when I was choosing my path, I don't know that I would have known what I wanted to go into. Maybe I would have gone into something in the faculty of agriculture, or culinary arts, or something in the sciences. I might have even taken some poli-sci or history classes. I have no regrets, but I would love now to have a year that I could spend exploring all my different interests.
Tomorrow is the first day of the 2010 Writers Festival. Remember how much fun I had volunteering last year? I'm doing it again, which will make for a very busy week. Hopefully something blogworthy happens.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Hot Lunch
Well, today I wish I had my plug n' play fireplace. The house temp was normal at 19 but after coming inside from a cool and windy walk I sure could've used some warming up. I dragged myself to the gym though, another good way to shake a chill. I hope that the purchase of the fireplace doesn't make it hard to leave my cozy home for a date with Gym.
Today at work I made one of my favourite easy meals--herbed chick pea and tomato pizza. It's just mashed up and seasoned chickpeas on a pita, topped with tomato, ricotta and Parmesan cheese, baked until crisp. The mini pizza caught the eye of some others in the lunch room. One woman said, "Jill always brings the best lunches". Another one said, "I know, I've been noticing her lunches for the past week, I'm a lunch stalker!" A few others then commented that they would bring better lunches if it were not for the fact that they had children to make lunches for too.
That Jill is a real head turner, especially at lunch time. Well, if it meant I didn't have to eat solo as much I'd happily bring another bite to share. Every once in a while I think about making this offer.
Today at work I made one of my favourite easy meals--herbed chick pea and tomato pizza. It's just mashed up and seasoned chickpeas on a pita, topped with tomato, ricotta and Parmesan cheese, baked until crisp. The mini pizza caught the eye of some others in the lunch room. One woman said, "Jill always brings the best lunches". Another one said, "I know, I've been noticing her lunches for the past week, I'm a lunch stalker!" A few others then commented that they would bring better lunches if it were not for the fact that they had children to make lunches for too.
That Jill is a real head turner, especially at lunch time. Well, if it meant I didn't have to eat solo as much I'd happily bring another bite to share. Every once in a while I think about making this offer.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
aMMMbiance
Well I thought that today I would be blogging beside the fire today but no such luck. I've been dreaming of getting an electric fireplace, one that is designed to hold your flatscreen TV, cable box, DVD player, etc. Not only does it add a nice ambient touch to a room, but I'm hoping the space heater would also be an economical way to take the chill out of the room, especially in the fall and spring when running the furnace seems a bit much. I'm still dreaming of it though because I drove all the way across to the east end of town only to learn that Canadian Tire did not have the one I wanted left in stock. I got a rain check. It's supposed to be in on Thursday, which gives me some more time to talk myself out of it (Jillian, you do not have an extra $400 to spend on "ambiance" right now), find another one elsewhere, or completely convince myself that this is a good buy.
On Saturday I baked cookies while the nice MTS man installed my HDTV and PVR. I don't really care about HDTV, but I am super excited about the PVR. First thing I recorded? Vampire Diaries of course. They replayed the new episode on Saturday afternoon. I watched it live, paused it when Damon was looking particularly dreamy (mmm, ambiance), and then skipped through the commercials. Beautiful technology.
On Saturday I baked cookies while the nice MTS man installed my HDTV and PVR. I don't really care about HDTV, but I am super excited about the PVR. First thing I recorded? Vampire Diaries of course. They replayed the new episode on Saturday afternoon. I watched it live, paused it when Damon was looking particularly dreamy (mmm, ambiance), and then skipped through the commercials. Beautiful technology.
Monday, September 06, 2010
Life is a highway
Home. I pulled into my driveway at nine, as the GPS lady promised me I would. I unloaded my small haul from America, plugged in my dead cell phone and started reconnecting with the world I left behind on Friday evening.
Friday. It feels so long ago. I turned down after work drinks with K so I could go home and pack. I stopped at Starbucks on the way so I could get a smoothie for the road. It was sunny and warm and I had the whole long weekend ahead of me. I had a fun ride down.
Hot Border guard: Where you headed?
Me: Turtle River.
Hot Border guard: Whatchya doing down there?
Me: Camping.
Hot Border Guard: By yourself?
Me: Meeting my parents down there.
Hot Border Guard: So your parents forced you to go camping with them this weekend huh? Doing anything else down there?
Figuring it would have been inappropriate at this time to bat my eyelashes and ask in a Canadian maple syrup sweet voice, "what are you doing later?" I instead replied: Maybe some shopping.
Hot Boarder Guard with dimpled smile: Alright then, you try to have fun camping this weekend.
I continued my journey onward with my spirits and music high and pulled up to the motor home around 8:30 where I was greeted by my parents and Elmo. Home for the weekend. I've fallen in love with the drive to the border now, the way I know other Manitobans love the drive north to the beaches or east to the Lake of the Woods area. And the motor home, it's not a cabin on the lake and I don't even get my own bedroom, but the motor home has become a special home away from home for me. Wherever it is, there is a warm place for me.
This weekend I went shopping with my mom, rode bikes with my dad and scratched Elmo behind his ears whenever I could. I hung around a bit late today, not wanting to leave. While my journey was ending today, my mom's and dad's was just starting. Dad retired this week and now they are travelling for the month of September. No real destination, just wherever the wind blows (although I warned my mom to stay clear of hurricane territory). It felt weird this week. First my dad had this big accomplishment--he finished his 37-year career. For all my life it's been me or my sister accomplishing things, but this time it was my dad's turn to celebrate himself. And today, when I pulled away from the motor home and waved so long, I had an idea what it might feel like to be a parent sending her children off to summer camp or university for the first time. Where did the time go? Will they be okay? A month is so long, I'm going to miss them so!
The ride home was less enjoyable. The skies were grey and the wind was wicked. The line up at the border was long (2 miles or more, 100 minutes).
Back at home I plugged in my dead phone, retrieved the message from Lisa (she's home!!) and a text message from Judy (still stuck in the border line up). OAF IM'd me, requesting stories. I checked my fridge for something lunchable. I didn't buy anything I can wear to work tomorrow, well, maybe. OAF is going back to school tomorrow, like so many others. Lucky.
I was feeling pensive while I was bike riding this weekend. The park had a lot of hills. Sometimes I had to chug pretty hard to climb them, even in a low gear. The best feeling was when I was almost at the top and I knew that I was going to make it. At that moment I relished the challenge, way more than the easy sail down the other side. Coasting isn't really that much fun for more than a moment or so. (Although that moment is truly something--the hum of the tires, the wind in my face, the break from peddling.) The other thing that really isn't fun is peddling down a flat stretch in an easy gear. I need some resistance so I don't feel like I'm just spinning my wheels. It's good to know the kind of ride you like and the gear you operate best in. It's also pretty cool to look back at some of those hills you've climbed and be amazed at how far you've come.
I'd go on, but it's getting late. I'll try to post more regularly if only so that my mom and dad have something nice to read when they have Internet access on the road.
Friday. It feels so long ago. I turned down after work drinks with K so I could go home and pack. I stopped at Starbucks on the way so I could get a smoothie for the road. It was sunny and warm and I had the whole long weekend ahead of me. I had a fun ride down.
Hot Border guard: Where you headed?
Me: Turtle River.
Hot Border guard: Whatchya doing down there?
Me: Camping.
Hot Border Guard: By yourself?
Me: Meeting my parents down there.
Hot Border Guard: So your parents forced you to go camping with them this weekend huh? Doing anything else down there?
Figuring it would have been inappropriate at this time to bat my eyelashes and ask in a Canadian maple syrup sweet voice, "what are you doing later?" I instead replied: Maybe some shopping.
Hot Boarder Guard with dimpled smile: Alright then, you try to have fun camping this weekend.
I continued my journey onward with my spirits and music high and pulled up to the motor home around 8:30 where I was greeted by my parents and Elmo. Home for the weekend. I've fallen in love with the drive to the border now, the way I know other Manitobans love the drive north to the beaches or east to the Lake of the Woods area. And the motor home, it's not a cabin on the lake and I don't even get my own bedroom, but the motor home has become a special home away from home for me. Wherever it is, there is a warm place for me.
This weekend I went shopping with my mom, rode bikes with my dad and scratched Elmo behind his ears whenever I could. I hung around a bit late today, not wanting to leave. While my journey was ending today, my mom's and dad's was just starting. Dad retired this week and now they are travelling for the month of September. No real destination, just wherever the wind blows (although I warned my mom to stay clear of hurricane territory). It felt weird this week. First my dad had this big accomplishment--he finished his 37-year career. For all my life it's been me or my sister accomplishing things, but this time it was my dad's turn to celebrate himself. And today, when I pulled away from the motor home and waved so long, I had an idea what it might feel like to be a parent sending her children off to summer camp or university for the first time. Where did the time go? Will they be okay? A month is so long, I'm going to miss them so!
The ride home was less enjoyable. The skies were grey and the wind was wicked. The line up at the border was long (2 miles or more, 100 minutes).
Back at home I plugged in my dead phone, retrieved the message from Lisa (she's home!!) and a text message from Judy (still stuck in the border line up). OAF IM'd me, requesting stories. I checked my fridge for something lunchable. I didn't buy anything I can wear to work tomorrow, well, maybe. OAF is going back to school tomorrow, like so many others. Lucky.
I was feeling pensive while I was bike riding this weekend. The park had a lot of hills. Sometimes I had to chug pretty hard to climb them, even in a low gear. The best feeling was when I was almost at the top and I knew that I was going to make it. At that moment I relished the challenge, way more than the easy sail down the other side. Coasting isn't really that much fun for more than a moment or so. (Although that moment is truly something--the hum of the tires, the wind in my face, the break from peddling.) The other thing that really isn't fun is peddling down a flat stretch in an easy gear. I need some resistance so I don't feel like I'm just spinning my wheels. It's good to know the kind of ride you like and the gear you operate best in. It's also pretty cool to look back at some of those hills you've climbed and be amazed at how far you've come.
I'd go on, but it's getting late. I'll try to post more regularly if only so that my mom and dad have something nice to read when they have Internet access on the road.
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