Apartment Living

So I've had more than a couple people ask about what it's like to live in an apartment after being in our house and for the most part it's really great.  But it got me to thinking, now that we're almost eight weeks into this new normal, about what is great and what I miss.  Naturally, I made a list...and it evolved into a synopsis of what I love about Vancouver and what I loved about Clemson.  And it also made me want to share our new home with folks back in SC so there are photos (even of the awfully ugly chandelier that used to hang above our dining table...it's since found the dumpster).

What I Miss:

-For starters, I miss my family - I realize I took for granted the frequency with which we visited and chatted and shared meals and I understand on a whole new level how true it was when people told us we were lucky to have us all living within 15 minutes of each other.  And I realize how lucky our children are to have had all their cousins and grandparents within an hour or so.  I hope to be close again one day...and even a 2 hour drive would seem like minutes comparatively. 

-Our backyard - there was something so lovely about saying to the kids, "Go play outside until I finish cooking dinner."  Now our only outside space during my cooking is our balcony which is just off the kitchen so it accomplishes little to send them there :)  And I can't send them to the pool downstairs alone, but we've managed a new routine that typically involves Lydia's American Girl doll and Henry's Legos.  Somehow, it's not the same but nonetheless it works.

-My garbage disposal!!!!  I miss this more than an ice maker and almost as much as our backyard.

-Longtime "soul" friends - don't get me wrong, I've got some great friends here that I am deeply grateful to have in my life.  There's just something that comes with familiarity - after you're friends for years you don't have that awkward "do-they-think-I'm-stalking-them-because-I've-invited-them-to-lunch-and-insert-myself-into-their-conversation" deal.  And familiarity lends an ease in even extending an invitation - maybe it's just me, but I feel like you often need to let your friendship marinate a little before delving into meal-sharing which I realize actually comes from me not wanting to make new friends uncomfortable either...  And then if you invite people over to your apartment and you don't have your backyard, where do the kids play?  In our kids' room that's barely big enough for the 2 of them?  WAAHHHH - what's a girl to do?  For starters - some of us are planning a Super Bowl Party, in theory - I'll have more wisdom on the subject after that soiree.

-Our church family - if you're reading this and you go to Fort Hill Presbyterian Church (thanks for reading, by the way), say an extra thank you prayer for the family that is Fort Hill.  You don't realize how special it is until it's not there (I suppose many would say that about their own church families), but I'm really grateful for the time we shared in that community of faith and for the relationships we built there that continue to sustain us even 3600+ miles away.

-Football Saturdays in Clemson - really, y'all, they're something special and I miss the energy that comes with 80,000 fans packed into our little town.  We still wear our orange and cheer on the Tigers on Saturday (and it's really nice that 8PM games start at 5PM Pacific Time, so we aren't up quite as late).  Funny enough - the local CFL team is the BC Lions and their colors are orange and blue and paw prints are their thing too - we fit right in :)

What I Love:

-Walking - we have to remind ourselves to drive the car once every week or two just to be sure the battery doesn't die.  This is REMARKABLE - and it's NORMAL!  Philip and I laughed because, in truth, the distance I walk to grocery shop is about the same as walking from our old house to the new Clemson Publix, but it never even entered my mind to walk there.  I think when we're back in the States the biggest adjustment will be 'learning' to drive again!

-Cultural Diversity - OK, get this.  Between Henry and Lydia's classes the following cultural backgrounds are represented (that I know of): Russian, Filipino, Ukrainian, Mexican, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Saudi Arabian, Indonesian and yes, a few native Canadians.  I LOVE THIS!  Basically it's really amazing to encounter all of these languages and traditions but the overarching miracle of it all is that our children are developing opinions of other traditions by the discovery of commonalities.  They will grow to characterize other places world-wide based on actual relationships - not some image painted in the media.  For this I'm deeply grateful and I'm deeply encouraged to see all of these diverse children and people living in community and laughing together, sharing together, living together.  It's beautiful.

-9AM school start time - it's fabulous.  Not a single rushed morning has been had in our house (except maybe one) and we eat breakfast together and walk together and talk together and sing together on the way to school.  I'm a fan.  I also really resonate with the school philosophy and teaching methods - the classes are outside a lot (Henry's taking a bike safety class tomorrow as part of his schooling and they're even bringing their bikes to practice!) and the whole atmosphere is nice.

-Nightly family dinners - we eat dinner together each night as a whole family of four and that's lovely (and a switch from last year when we were often only 3).  And I've been able to rediscover how much I enjoy cooking and we've had yummy meals and shared rich conversation.

-Downsizing - WHAT A GIFT!  I was intimidated at first by the thought of scrunching our life into a 1184 square foot apartment, but it's been almost holy.  And I realize how disconnected our family had become in our house - the kids would play outside or upstairs or watch a movie on their own while I was in the kitchen and Philip was downstairs and we'd come together for a 20 minute meal and retreat to our separate activities.  It worked, don't get me wrong.  But now - there's one TV and we try to keep it off because sometimes the negotiations just aren't worth it.  That means that after dinner we play Spoons or Go Fish or we go for a walk around our building - sometimes to get gelato [which - if you're wondering - is to ice cream what Tiffany is to Wal-Mart...delish!].  We are together just being a family and I'm energized by that. 

-Proximity to cool stuff - we're 20 minutes from a very cool fish hatchery (Capilano Fish Hatchery/Dam) where we watched salmon spawn last weekend; we're 30 minutes from skiing; we're a walk from the beach; and only 2 hours from Seattle.  It's pretty great.

So there you have it - the official compare/contrast of Clemson and Vancouver from this mama's perspective.  And now - without further adieu - pictures of our little home:
  Our kitchen and our balcony - we're fortunate to have full-size appliances.

  The living area

   The living area is open to the dining area (note chandelier)

  This lovely chandelier was loved by someone - however, the wonky light + the two-toned brass/chrome look + the faux tassels weren't our thing.  It's been replaced with a low profile ceiling fixture, but I had to share this as it is unlike anything I'd ever seen.

The Master Bedroom

 The kids' room - completely mismatched but just how they want it!  And there are two bathrooms, but I figure those didn't warrant a photo :)  We have lots of windows and I love that too - and great views of the city/water from them as well.

Giant Fir Hiking Trail - Capilano Hatchery/Dam

Capilano Dam viewpoint

Entrance to Hiking Trails @ Capilano

Capilano River

Coho Salmon - there were windows for you to watch the salmon jump uphill against the current - it was really fascinating to see!

How an Accidental 10-12K leads to the Olympic Village

It's been quite a week - ponderings on a garbage chute led to an accidental 10-12K (walking, not running and it wasn't a group initiative - just me...and it didn't involve my getting lost though I know that's hard to believe).  And we capped it off with a completely unplanned (and unpacked) trip to Whistler where we stayed in Olympic Village.  My life makes me laugh! 

I heard a young man on television this week talking about life and how it's really all about duality and I wish I remembered his name because I think he might be one of he smartest people I've ever heard.  It's true really - if we don't have some down times, some crappy times, some blue times (whatever you call them) how do we fully appreciated the good times?  So - two posts ago I was honest about the lonlies and how they find their way in and how I've adopted this plan to tell them "Welcome! But only for a little while" and here I am about to confess my life's absurdity and spontaneous explorations as an admitted highlight of this funny adventure of life my family and I are living.  In these last two weeks I've lived life's duality, as most of  us have, really.  And I'm grateful for its polar nature for without one it's hard to get through/fully enjoy the other. 

Accidental 10-12K - not your everyday activity, indeed.  Yet somehow the fact that I walked it seems to take away from its drama.  I respectfully disagree.  Here's how it went down.  Each morning I drop the kids off at school and then have my daily walk - I shoot for an hour each day and I try to take a different route each day as well.  This was Thursday - I've been battling this sinus/cold thing and found that I could breathe while walking/standing much better than while sitting.  I usually walk straight to the seawall to begin my walks because it's lovely to be on the water and see barges, folks practicing Tai Chi, seagulls, etc. and this morning was no different.  I headed down to the water and decided today was the day to turn right.  This may seem like no big deal, but Philip and I have a tendency to get into a rut in our walking patterns so we've become more intentional about turning the opposite of our norm having realized we've missed out on some pretty cool sights by always turning the same direction (that's a blog post of its own I'm certain).  Today was the day to defy the norm - it was a sunny, blue skied Thursday full of promise and a cool breeze and I couldn't resist.

I started at English Bay and headed toward Second Beach where there's a public, heated pool to be used during the summer months - that's as far as I've ever gotten before.  So I passed Second Beach with no idea what lay before me other than the remaining portion of the seawall.  Now - let me clarify - I knew I was walking toward Stanley Park - I knew the general direction I needed to go to get back home and I was NOT lost.  I was just turning right.  Beyond Second Beach there, naturally, was Third Beach and the Teahouse - which I'd passed on the epic adventure through Stanley Park with the kids that ended with our first family hitchhiking experience.  I kept going through the gates that can close when rock slides occur, despite the fact we'd spent some time that morning in the PAC meeting (Parents Advisory Council - think PTO) discussing the need for earthquake preparation and kits and redezvous points and such.  I even kept my personal paranoia about earthquakes at bay whilst walking so that I could see the sheer rock faces standing boldly above the water and notice the fact that there's nothing spray painted on them!  It's amazing really - nothing denoting which graduating class had gotten there last or anything - the little 6" X 6" signs asking folks to keep them natural actually seemed effective.  I kept walking and realized I'd been walking for some time but that at this point I was too far in to turn back.  I came upon Siwash Rock - a rock outcropping in the water with a plaque commemorating the life of someone who jumped from it to their death - unaware it was low tide.  I'd never seen a plaque quite like that.  Shortly after passing Siwash Rock I realized I had wandered much further than I ever thought turning right would take me.  I came face to face with the Lions Gate Bridge - a Vancouver landmark that lights at night and that carries folks out of Vancouver via the Sea to Sky Highway (more on that in a moment).  And then I walked UNDER it...and found myself in the exact spot where the kids and I walked the day we took our lives into our own hands and took a ride with strangers.  Now - it occurred to me at this point the irony in the situation but I plugged on.  That all too familiar feeling of panic began to rise as I realized I'd mentioned to Philip I'd be home by 11AM and that he might be coming home for lunch.  Oops.  It was 11:45 at this point.  I still don't have a cell phone and there really was no way for me to let him know that wasn't going to happen.  But, I again found an oasis in the desert - the Totems!  I walked over to the Stanley Park Totems and was grateful to find a gift shop for three reasons: 1 - they had public restrooms 2 - they sold water and I was thirsty and 3 - perhaps, just maybe there were public phones.  Reasons 1 & 2 turned out to be valid - and reason #3, well, payphones are apparently a thing of the past.  But Vancouver hospitality again reigned supreme and the kind woman at the gift shop offered to let me use the shop's phone.  I called Philip to let him know he'd be flying solo for lunch as I still had 45 minutes left to walk before I got home.  He laughed.  Finally - after about 2 hours I unlocked the door to our apartment and sat down most grateful for our couch.  I had walked the entire length of the seawall (9K) + the distance from school to the seawall and the distance from the seawall to our building - all in all somewhere between 10-12K.  Thus ended my first 10-12K experience and I never intend to do that with running feet.  Ever.

Saturday we drove over the Lions Gate Bridge on our way to the Brittania Mine Museum or so I thought.  We hopped onto the Sea to Sky Highway and I must say it's one of the most beautiful highways I've ever been on - comparable to the drive on I-5 along the Columbia River running along the border between Washington State and Canada.  I'd wanted to visit the Mine Museum when we were here last November and we just didn't have time or transportation.  So I was pumped.  Again - it was a gorgeous day - sunny, blue skies, just cool enough that you didn't get hot.  We knew the mine was between Vancouver and Whistler because we'd passed right by it almost a year ago.  We struck out around lunch time and by the time we neared the museum it was clear that we needed to get everyone fed for it to be a positive experience.  So - we drove past the mine into Squamish - and the kids didn't even notice.  Then, Philip and I started to get sneaky.  Lydia has said she wanted to go back to Whistler since the moment we left last November (at which time she cried about leaving), so while at McDonald's Philip booked a room at the hotel where we had stayed using points he had accumulated and off we went.  We asked the kids to help us look for the mine and acted like we must've messed up, but we promised we'd stop in the next town for directions.

Now - you must realize at this point we were totally unprepared for this.  Totally.  This was a spur of the moment, McDonald's parking lot decision - we had no toothbrush, no jammies, nothing.  We pulled into Whistler with the kids shouting recognition of sites previously seen and praised them for their idea to stop at the hotel where we stayed for directions to the illusive mine.  They dutifully followed Philip to the reception desk where he let the attendant know we were there to check in and slowly...very slowly...realization came.  Their smiles broadened, their own lust for adventure awakened and we went up to our room without a care for the lack of toothbrushes or makeup.  And we were off - off to Olympic Village for absolute necessities for our spur of the moment overnight trip - off to revisit places we thought we'd only see once in our lives when we were here a year ago - off to find that restaurant we were going to visit but were just too tired.  And it was fun.  The fall colors were perfect.  The ski runs were now overrun with folks on their bikes - the helmets were familiar tho.  And we explored.  The river that had been frozen the last time we saw it was now framed with colorful fall leaves.  The Olympic Rings that had snow on them last were now stately in their austerity.  The playground called and the kids ran forth.  The Thanksgiving sales spewed forth all we needed for our jaunt and then some.

We still haven't made it to the mine - but it'll be there the whole time we're here & we hope to go next week.  We're home now and the sun is setting on another gorgeous day with colors that even the camera can't capture to do them justice.  And I'm reminded that life, indeed, is about duality.  When the lonlies creep in again as I'm sure they will, I'll welcome them.  And then I'll regale them with tales about my absurdly long trek around the seawall and I'll invite them to laugh with me at myself.  To laugh at my propensity to dive right in for the sake of turning another direction without thought of its unforeseen outcome.  I'll tell them about the fast one we pulled on the kids as we wandered to the home of the last Winter Olympic Games and then I'll tell them about the colors that light the sky at night out of our window and then I'll send them on their way.  I'll send them on as I recall the reasons I'm grateful for this life I live and for the people who make it rich as we celebrate our first Canadian Thanksgiving.  And I'll find hope for the world through the renewal of wonder that only a new place can bring.

 

The Chute

 

This is a garbage chute.  Innocuous at first glance, but upon further consideration, a thing of sublime beauty.  Its 12" width and 18" height almost make up for the fact we don't have a garbage disposal.  The fact that our apartment is located within mere steps of this utilitarian marvel is an added bonus.  I learned this weekend that there's even garbage chute etiquette, which I suppose makes complete sense considering our building has 31 floors of people living in it and all of us have access to the chute.  As is the case whenever the building's council discusses/votes on matters affecting us tenants, a copy of the meeting minutes are posted on our door.  One arrived on Friday.  Being the nerd that I am, I read these minutes...you never know when there's something I need to internalize or act upon.  The first item under new business concerned garbage chute misuse and, frankly, I can't imagine who'd do such a thing when the sheer convenience of stuffing your garbage bag in this little hole in the wall precludes the need for hauling said trash to the lobby and through a circuitous maze of hallways to the outdoor garbage room.  Needless to say, I was plugged in completely to the minutes on this matter as they warned that a NEW case of paint cans being sent down the chute could force the council to shut it down permanently and reminded us that new buildings have no chutes at all.  Horrors.  The best part was that they attached to the back of the meeting minutes a full page referring to "Garbage Chute Etiquette" - and parts of this are too good not to share.  These are direct quotes:

- Garbage chute closed between 10PM and 8AM [good to know]
- Items strictly forbidden down the chute are:
     - Chemicals [understandable]
     - Paint Cans [tsk tsk to the offenders]
     - Styrofoam
     - Construction Material
     - Glass
     - Wood
     - Electronics: TV, stereos, speaker, telephones, computers [interesting]
     - Bedding, pillows, blankets, cardboard
     - Clothes
     - Furniture
     - Car Bumpers [really?!?!]

The policy goes on to explain the recycling options available in the building as well as external recycling centers we may use.  However, I got stuck on the whole car bumper thing.  Consider with me for a moment the sheer logistics of this endeavor.  First, I admit my assumption that since car bumpers are listed as forbidden garbage chute refuse, someone must have tried to dispose of one in this manner at some point.  This humors me. 

Our parking is below our building - we park 3 floors below ground next to a concrete pillar and a space-greedy Volvo.  To get into the building from the parking garage, you must go through 2 doors (one of which you must unlock with a key).  Given that car bumpers are 5+ feet in length and that you have to make a 90 degree turn into the 2nd door, this is a feat of contortionist proportions requiring almost as much skill as making the top bunk bed!  Then - you must use your key fob to access the elevator - all the while holding onto said bumper and making sure you don't mar the elevator.  We live on the 9th floor, but functionally it's the 12th floor as there are 3 floors with no level number assigned to them - one of which is the lobby...on the ground floor...that has access to several dumpsters.  Assuming you make it past the lobby with no one noticing you riding the elevator with a car bumper in hand, you get to your floor and shimmy it out of the elevator where you find 2 more doors with a 90 degree turn in between that you must clear before reaching the chute [I'm already tired at this point and would've given up on the bumper down the chute idea long before now].  The door to the little (and by little I mean 3' X 3' room - max) room that houses the garbage chute opens inward and you'd have to have the entire bumper in that little room to even consider getting it into the chute - so you squeeze past the door with the bumper and the door closes leaving you with a 5' bumper in a 3' X 3' room and a 12" X 18" hole to put it in.  *ASSUMING* you could open the chute with one hand and prop the bumper up with the other to hold the chute open, I think it a modern engineering feat that you could actually make the bumper fit in that little, angled, doorway to trash-dom! 

Alas - this is the picture that I drew in my head as I headed home this morning on my 6-7 block walk from grocery shopping with my snazzy new purple pull cart - and friends, it had to be shared.  What I know is that if anyone is ridiculous enough to ruin my access to the chute because they throw any of the forbidden items down it, I'll be really sad and I hope I don't ever know who the offender(s) happens to be for I would have a hard time being cordial.  That's all for now...enjoy your Monday.

Crisis of Belief

We will have been in Vancouver for exactly one month - hard to believe.  And, since we've only been here a month, we're still in the process of discovery.  I feel like a detective working for attorneys preparing for a high profile court case - trying to drink up every detail this city will share and integrate it into my reality.  We've been operating by an unofficial rule - no eating at the same restaurant twice, walk home a different way every chance you get, explore with reckless abandon.  It's addictive, really, especially since my quest for information has turned up little that doesn't resonate with me - at least on a philosophical level.  And that's unnerving because I can tell it's changing me.  Now - hear me clearly say that unnerving isn't a bad thing necessarily; it's just change can be daunting and tends to challenge the comfort level I had with my former reality.  I knew this would happen - and, frankly, was intrigued by it.  I'm one of those weirdos who kind of likes change - I get bored with status quo and same old/same old.  However, my past experiences have been reflective ones - the change happened within and I didn't see it until it was over and looked back.  This time, though, I'm feeling the metamorphosis...and that's the weird/exciting part.  I don't know if it has to do with my actually having time to reflect every day and live into the change or if it's me having given myself permission to tap into my true self.  Either way - it's happening.

What Resonates with Me:
Much of this shifting in thought processes revolves around our children because I see the positive benefits firsthand in them.  I arrived here *assuming* the schools are intense, academically advanced and focused on achievement.  At this point, I'd say I'm really wrong about that [and I've learned that I make a LOT of assumptions - without knowing it].  The school that we're part of feels really good - and while I'm not overly confident that we'll get back to the States as foregone valedictorians, I am very confident we'll come back with children who've been taught how to live as good people.  I kind of chewed my nails as I dialed back my 'hurry up and get to work' rhetoric and my 'what do you mean you're working on subtraction and not division?' yammering.  And my dialing it back was affirmed almost instantly when I saw grade 6 girls take my grade 1 girl under their wing and allow her to play with them kindly instead of shooing away the 'little girl' that was trying to get into their grown up world.  At that moment I realized that I'd wanted my children to return to the States having been trained in citizenship and mutual respect because, let's face it, that'll get them farther in life than diagramming sentences.  

We parents are a funny breed - we don't think about the world without considering its impact on our children.  The impact of this place and its thought processes has been intensely positive on our children and has forced me to shut my mouth and slow down.  They're being kids and are encouraged to embrace the fact that they're children and not rush to grow up or push harder or achieve more.  The first week or so of school I was worried that we weren't doing homework every night or rushing off to various extracurricular activities - but no one was doing that - not that I noticed anyway.  It's completely normal to hang out at school after the final bell rings and eat the rest of your lunch as your snack and play.  It's not organized; there are no teams; it's just play.  Amazing!  The kids smile, laugh and play with different people each afternoon and parents talk and visit - it's like a giant playgroup every day.  Before the opening bell each morning, we play - on the playground with all sorts of people.  After lunch every day, the children play.  The principal, who is a former professional musician and really cool, addressed the importance of play in his opening remarks at our back to school BBQ (note: BBQ here is a verb, not a noun) and said bluntly that play is a priority and, weather permitting, kids will be outside playing every. single. day.  There are pick up soccer games, elaborate fantasy games that involve invisible ships and space cruisers, monkey bars, basketball, balance beams, etc.  And I think kids here are happier.  I've realized it's not enrolling my children in activities that they want to be in as much as allowing them space to create activities they enjoy.  It's a total paradigm shift.

What I really don't get is that we're living in a city and the pace is slower!?!?  I don't know if this is a west coast phenomenon or a Canadian phenomenon and I may never know that answer, but I like this gentle vibe.  The folks here put an emphasis on children (at least in the West End where we are).  The approach, as I best understand it right now, is that if we honor childhood as a part of life and allow it to be lived at an age-appropriate time/pace, when it's time to move into adulthood this part of our selves will be able to move on.  They practice being family focused.  I've met a mom who works part time as does her husband so they can be with their children more.  They share a one bedroom apartment (all four of them) very intentionally so their focus is being a family and raising their children into sensitive, responsible adults.  This kind of rocked me to the core!  I have to ask myself if I'd make that choice.  I still have to wrestle with that one.

What Challenges Me:
There are unexpected moments of grace.  I was walking down Denman Street a little over a week ago and saw a woman, who I assume was either the owner of the store at this corner or a resident of the building above it, and she stepped up to a homeless man sleeping on the street and handed him a big bag from Burger King - obviously filled with food.  It's been very new for me to be face to face on a daily basis with homelessness and poverty.  I'm trying to learn how to live with it - it's hard for me to reconcile my sense of parental responsibility/protecting my children and my responsibility to love all of God's people.  It's hard to teach my children how to do that with grace too - one of our kids is completely freaked out every time we pass a homeless person and the other greets with enthusiasm every person we meet - homeless or not.  They kind of personify the inner tension I feel trying to figure out how to respond myself!  We look out of our bedroom window at night and see folks climbing into dumpsters searching for food or a place to get away from the rain.  We hear folks pushing grocery buggies obviously full of glassware they can turn in for the recycling deposit.  And we're here in warmth with good food and clean water and clothes.  It's a stark contrast and I'm figuring out how to walk through it - I'm starting by teaching my children that a smile is a kind gift to anyone we meet and that all people are children of God.

The whole faith thing challenges me here.  Our family's lens is permanently filtered through our faith - it's who we are.  But here, we're in a huge minority and I know there will come a time relatively soon when one or both of our kids as me WHY we believe in God.  And I've started pondering that very question because I know it's deeper than 'we always have' but putting words to it is tricky...especially when I have to frame it so our 6 and 8 year olds can understand.  And what I've come to is this:

We believe in God because we need God.  We need hope.  We need grace.  And God gives us hope and grace and community.  God gives us strength when we experience hard times.  Our faith helps us know we belong to something larger than our individual selves; our faith makes us who we are. 

It's not fancy or theologically eloquent but I hope it helps me define and explain our identity in a new way.  And I *hope* it informs how they interact with other people and gives them enough security to engage people who believe differently with respect and dignity, without apologizing for our own beliefs. 

Weather and lonely moments are challenging too - the rains have come and somehow the clouds bring a solitary feeling with them.  I sure miss my family and wish I had called my parents for lunch dates more regularly when we lived closer to one another.  I miss being able to hug a friend when they're in a hard place and I miss receiving those knowing glances from friends who know me well.  But I've learned that lonely times come and my new approach is to let them in, but only for a visit.  The quicker they come in, the quicker they're felt and ushered out.  And they're ushered out by focusing on gratitude - for land lines that let me call family and friends, for walking in the rain, for the opportunity to live in a beautiful part of the world and for people who are becoming friends and confidants, and yes, even gratitude for facebook.
 
All in all...
We're in a great place - our reality has changed and my experience of parenthood has changed.  And I'm learning again that there's always another approach, another perspective and that this 'other' might even be better than what we've known.  There are hard images to digest, there are lonely times to overcome BUT our faith continues to bring us comfort, challenge and peace.    I'm grateful to and for you who hold us in prayer and thought and all who we claim as friends.

Connecting the dots & Juxtapositions

This weekend, we hopped on a ferry (with our car, which was pretty neat) and headed for Vancouver Island.  We didn't go to Victoria which was surprising to many folks we talked with here in town , however.  Instead we went to the Nanaimo terminal and hopped in the car for the four hour drive to Port Hardy.  For those who don't know, we spent 8 months last year as a divided family - Philip in Port Hardy (very northern tip of the island) and the kids and I in Clemson.  This was a tricky dance, but one, dare I say it, we ended up doing with some grace.  It was ugly and we stubbed our toes along the way, but we came out the other side unscathed and that's one of our family's greatest accomplishments to date.  When Philip came home in late February, we thought Port Hardy was part of our family's past and the kids and I related to that place through pictures and stories Philip shared.  It had become part of his life and our living had remained in SC; when someone you love has shared part of themselves with people in a place you've never been and may never go it's tricky.  I assume it was hard for Philip that we couldn't relate fully to this place that had become part of him and it was strange for us to understand descriptions we hadn't experienced.  So this weekend we remedied that situation - and it was unbelievable to connect the dots of his life in Port Hardy with our dots in Clemson and the new dots in Vancouver.

To really get the gist of Port Hardy, I first have to mention that Vancouver is a city - it's urban - high rise apartment buildings, lots of traffic, all sorts of restaurants representing all the cultures who call this place home.  It is, however, surprisingly green - tree lined streets, quiet bays, and lots of parks.  There's wildlife - squirrels (which, incidentally are black and not grey), lots of pet dogs, tons of Canadian geese and countless seagulls.  But those animals have figured out how to function among the throngs of people who walk all over and live within their habitat.  This is mainland British Columbia and this stands in contrast to Vancouver Island.  We visited some stores in the island town of Courtney and as we rushed through one store, the employee there said, "I can tell you're in a rush.  Slow down.  You're on island time now."  And the funny part is that Vancouver lifestyle feels distinctly slower than Clemson - more on that another time.  Courtney is still 3 hours southeast of Port Hardy (the island sits more on the horizontal than vertical plane and is about the size of Florida), so we had an early dinner and hit the road.  And the rains came - and it got dark - and it rained some more.  Reflectors aren't part of the pavement in that part of the world because snow plows would just pluck them up when they scraped the roads and there certainly are no road lights - we were in the wild.  We pulled into the Glen Lyon Motel around 930 - where Philip had spent many a week last year - and even in the dark the view out of our room was spectacular.  We were right on the water next to fishing boats and a seaplane and the sound of the water was intoxicating.  We slept wonderfully.

Saturday morning we went to Philip's office - it was in an abandoned strip mall and they had plenty of space to spread out.  We finally got to meet Bryan and Mike - two of Philip's coworkers we'd heard so very much about (not the infamous roommate if you are wondering) and it was delightful to see how those relationships were still so strong.  I suppose working 60-80 hours a week with folks solidifies friendships in a unique way - especially when you're in such an isolated part of the world.  We climbed into a HUGE Ford Super Duty F350 [this was new for me] and dropped Mike at the airport before heading toward the wind farm Philip had been there to design and build on the mountain top at Cape Scott.  Part of why we went this weekend to Port Hardy is that the project is winding down and we'd not have had access to this ginormous truck had we waited any longer - I didn't understand why that was an issue until we started driving.

The term 'road', you see, is a loose one here.  By law, logging companies must build 'roads' wherever they do business and while I assumed this meant roads I was used to, I could not have been more mistaken.  We learned, firsthand, what popcorn feels like in the microwave as we bounced our way up the Holberg Road - that was 'built' by exploding rock and then compacting it.  According to Philip, the roads were in great condition - thank heavens - if they'd been in bad condition I don't know if we'd survived!  There were some potholes you could literally bathe an infant in and they function primarily as one way roads.  If you see oncoming traffic, you get out of the way.  And logging trucks have the right of way so there are lots of little pull off areas called 'lay bys' and we put them the good use.  Contrast that to Vancouver where I've seen more cars that are more costly than our houses - Lotus, Porsches, Asten Martens, Bentleys, Vipers, Ferraris, etc.  In Vancouver, the BMW and Mercedes are equivalent to the Toyota Camry - it's shocking really.  Needless to say, no logging trucks or unpaved roads find their way into Vancouver either.

We reached the wind farm and the four of us saw the 55 wind turbines standing in their stately way for the first time together.  Philip had come home the week before the first was built and it was pretty special to be with him when he saw the culmination of his work for the first time.  They're huge - I mean HUGE - but they're incredibly graceful.  And it's a sight to behold.  And in this lush wilderness where wild animals roam it's funny to see them dot the top of the landscape but they fit in better than the mangled mess of roots and stumps left behind by loggers.  It's really a place of contrasting images when you see signs touting 'forests forever' and see logging trucks haul out trees that have been cut down.  It took awhile for me to think of this as a harvest and not an assault on the land.  They're very intentional to replant and you can look across the mountains and see areas of new growth amidst areas of old growth and it's lovely.  After spending time among the energy field, we bounced our way toward Cape Scott for a family hike.  The road got narrower (as in one lane bridges, narrow) and bumpier as we got closer.  It's about an hour's drive from the wind farm site to the trailhead and Lydia and I both were praying for a bathroom by the time we got there - much like our state parks, we pulled in and found bathrooms - thank heavens - or so I thought.

Admittedly, I'm not a veteran outdoorswoman - remember, I'm coming from a city at this point, and I don't come from camping stock.  But I thought the little huts with lockable doors were perfectly fine.  I went in, and was assaulted by an army of flies, mosquitos and God only know what other kinds of flying insects but I was grateful as my bladder was near exploding.  Lydia, however, had a hard time finding grateful.  She wrapped her hands around my neck and I held her up so she wouldn't touch the toilet seat and she immediately began screaming - I'm talking horror movie screaming - and then bursts out with "There are flies on my toosh-eee.  THERE. ARE. FLIES. ON. MY. TOOOOSSSSHHHH-EEEEEE!"  Every ounce of my composure left and I died laughing all the while trying to maintain enough strength to hold my child up and not drop her onto the seat and send her straight to therapy.  I realized after we survived this new level of wilderness that the openings at the top of this outhouse weren't windows - merely holes in the CMU block building for her screams to travel through; I was glad we were in the middle of nowhere so that cops couldn't arrive before we got deep into the woods since I'm sure Lydia sounded like she was being beaten to death.

Then we hiked - it was glorious - think the Ewok scene in Star Wars - this looked just like where they live.  We hiked among trees so big we needed 5-8 folks to circle them, we saw frogs and mushrooms and slugs like we'd never seen before.  We crossed bridges and hiked our way in about 2.5km before opening on to the most pristine beach I've ever seen.  We had made it to San Joseph's Bay and it was beautiful - waves lapping the shore, mountains surrounding us and Philip shared another special place with us.  As we hiked back the kids grew tired - especially Henry who was battling a cold.  But he learned this weekend that he's tougher than he realized and he pushed through and even said he was glad he did.  Then - the crème de la crème - we saw TWO bears - something Philip had never seen in his time in Port Hardy - two black bears in separate places.  It was the perfect end to a great day.  Somehow Lydia slept as we bounced back down to Port Hardy - testament to how tired she was - and we had a lovely sushi dinner with Bryan and his wife.

We woke on Sunday to the sight of a bald eagle fishing right outside our motel room - the first time the kids and I had ever seen the stately bird outside of a zoo...and we saw two more eagles on our way back to Nanaimo.  We meandered through mountains and didn't encounter more than 25 cars for the first 3 hours of our trip - this is a place that feeds your soul - it is clear.  We stopped about 45 minutes outside Port Hardy at a village called Telegraph Cove - it was a main telegraph station many moons ago and was one of the secure telegraph lines during WWII.  Here we saw the BRIGHTEST most vivid rainbow I've ever seen in my life - the pictures almost look fake...but they aren't.  Here you can stand at the end of the dock and see whales (orcas and humpbacks primarily) swim by - sadly, we missed the peak of whale season and were there too early in the day to see them - next time, though!  We wandered through the whale interpretative center and back to the car as the rain came.  It was serendipitous little side trip that was quite fun.

Once back to Nanaimo we played in their historical district, "The Old Quarter" as it's known, before heading back to the ferry terminal.  As we laughed during a rousing game of "Go Fish" on the boat you could feel the transition back to city life.  Lydia said she was sad to leave, but I'm oh-so-glad we got to go.  Being in Port Hardy felt like we had all found a missing puzzle piece that more completely connected us as a family and it was nice. 

Bear #1

View from a one lane bridge

 Bear #2

Hiking to San Joseph's Bay

Mushroom - isn't it pretty??? Even Philip thought so...

This is ONE tree - only one.

This tree root supported 4 trees growing above it - muscle man Henry took it on!

The brightest rainbow ever - and you can see the double rainbow too - these were 2 of the 5 rainbows we saw on our weekend jaunt!

Cape Scott Wind Farm

I told you they were huge.

HUGE!

San Joseph Bay Beach

San Joseph Bay

Bald Eagle #1 - sadly, no photos of #2 & #3 - we were driving.

Looks fake, doesn't it?  I can't make this stuff up, people.

Whale interpretive center at Telegraph Cove

TUUUUWWWAAANNNNNDDDDAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

I did it.  Alone.  Completely.  Despite being led astray by my assumingly trusty GPS, I made it to the car dealership for an oil change.  And I'm victorious.  There was a brief moment when I felt that panicky piece of me creeping in as I realized the GPS was about 2 steps behind each turn I needed to make.  However, I kept it in check, took a deep breath and sure enough ended up on SW Marine Drive.

More importantly - I made it back and I PARKED!  Yep - first time, pulling in backwards next to the Volvo with personal space issues.  And as I pulled into our parking garage the song "Brave" was playing on the radio.  I took that as a Providential fist bump and told myself, "Girl - you got this".  And I did.

So there.  The update I'm sure everyone who's ever read this blog has been repeatedly hitting 'refresh' to read.  Anxiety conquered and a whole new world reopened.  Plus - the car's ready for her first ferry trip on Friday to Vancouver Island. 

Progress, Growing Edges and Epic Parental Fail #1

It's funny to sit down and think about a week and realize how much living actually happens in seven days.  When I was working, weeks flew by - routines ruled the roost and if we deviated it felt weird.  Now, we're trying to define routine because there's so much that's new to incorporate into our day to day living. 

Thursday was the first day of school - my anxiety was higher than the kids, I think.  It was great, though (despite both kids having substitute teachers for their first day).  I picked them up all smiles and, as promised, we walked to the cupcake shop and headed straight for the beach on English Bay.  We played and laughed and the kids could barely carry themselves back to the apartment after playing in the water that made my toes curl it was so cold.  I felt triumphant on Friday as I confidently left the apartment with NO MAP to walk the kids to school.  This seems small but really, given my history for needing maps, this was a milestone indeed.  I dropped Henry at his school (The Annex) and Lydia at hers (Lord Roberts - the main school), and learned that each morning parents are invited and encouraged to stay in Lydia's class for the first 10 minutes and read with our kids.  What fun!  Then, I had to head back to the apartment to pick up Lydia's forgotten lunch box...and headed back to Lydia's school.  While this isn't anything extraordinary - it is a lot of steps, and it's 930 in the morning by now.  Then, I plugged in my ear buds and headed for the beach.  My intention is to do this daily - exercise right after dropping them off - but here's the kicker - it doesn't feel like exercise.  I figure at some point it will, but walking along the seawall with mountains in view and salt water in the air is pretty amazing.  Then I found it - the elusive heated, salt water pool and playground at second beach - SCORE!  I got so distracted watching the world around me that I forgot to watch the exercise clock and didn't arrive back at home until 11AM.  AND - I didn't make a wrong turn even once!  At this point, I'm tired and I've not even considered the pickup walk that looms at 230ish.  Nonetheless, had some good leftovers for lunch and cleaned the whole apartment in less than an hour - downsizing has a lot of benefits.  Then we got the call - there's a spot for Henry at the main school - Lord Roberts.  I was thrilled and decided to pick him up a tad early to bid farewell to friends he'd begun to make and take him to the new school to meet his new teacher...

So begins Epic Parental Fail #1 - Henry LOVED his teacher, well sub.  I did too - he's uber cool - curly ponytail, fun sense of humor, artistic and just someone you want to be around.  Henry had also begun to make some friends in his class at The Annex and really liked it there.  And I got to knock on the door of his class to tell him that he's got to have ANOTHER adjustment (as if he's not had aplenty so far).  It went about as I expected - he kinda took it on the chin on the surface but when it was just him and me it was ugly.  He was mad, sad, a little anxious and embarrassed all rolled into one.  In truth I kind of was too - it's weird to take your kid to their first day of school on Thursday only to show up early on Friday to pick them up never to return - we had no idea, NONE, that this transfer would happen so quickly.  Hindsight is 20/20 as they say.  It's about a 10-15 minute walk between The Annex and the main school - part of why we wanted the kids at the same school.  That was the longest short walk I'd ever taken and it was SILENT.  And it was hard for me to let that be.  But I knew that Henry needed that silence to process and yell at me in his head and wrap his head around a change we'd been warning him would come, but one that none of us expected so quickly.  Thankfully, his new teacher is also uber cool.  He's intriguing too - from South Africa, has lived in the States, all over Canada and has training in all sorts of areas - early childhood, storytelling, counseling, French and education.  They have a yearlong class 'mystery' that the kids work together to solve and his philosophy is that he has to make it fun because if kids don't want to come to school there's no way he can possibly help educate them.  And the crowning jewel is that we were invited to dinner at a family's house on Sunday night before we knew that Henry was transferring and their son is in Henry's class.  Thank heavens!  Redemption.  Henry and Ty hit it off as we did with Ty's parents...and so begins life anew, again.  Today's is Henry's second first day in 5 days and I know he'll be fine.  Today is Lydia's 3rd day in school and she's had 3 teachers so far - two subs and one day with her actual teacher.  We're figuring it out...little by little, but we're also solidifying our family along the way. 

Now - we prepare for 'the STRIKE' - yep...we're getting into a groove and by the end of this week all schools may be closed in British Columbia because of a Settlement Workers strike.  This is new.  I hope, at the very least, that Henry & Lydia get a full week in school before it shuts down and I'm really glad I went to the Russian settlement worker's coffee hour this morning to even know a strike was on the table.  I had no idea.  I had no idea because I don't watch the news [which may not be bad according to the Russian astrologer in our coffee hour this morning who told us the news was too much and clouded her sight so she couldn't predict how the whole Syria situation would play out].  I had no idea because I assumed, again, that education here operates like education in Clemson.  Wrong.  What I learned from Svetlana, the Settlement Worker at Lord Roberts, is that her salary/benefits haven't increased since 2001.  2001, people - that's crazy!  I don't know what her salary is but what I do know is that it was Svetlana who offered to give me a tour of the school.  It was Svetlana who gave me information about where to get sports information for Henry.  It was Svetlana who first invited me to the SWIS coffee hour on Mondays and didn't make me feel weird as the only American attendant who already speaks English.  It was Svetlana who asked folks to speak in English so I could understand.   And I want Svetlana treated justly. 

I have no idea what this means for our family - apparently one strike in the past lasted for a month - YIKES!  I'll be investigating home school curricula if that happens.  And you know I'm not a home school mama - it'll be a stretch.  We've got some learning to do - all four of us.

So we push ahead.  We plow through.  We give each other grace.  And we laugh.  A lot.