Life on the edge

I am a water baby. Born under the sign of the crab on the west coast of Vancouver Island, salt water courses through my blood. Rain, salt air and fog are essential life forces. Isolation and standing on the edge of the known bring me comfort.

I am here, next human is here-ish. Perfect. I like my personal space.
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For university, I chose to bust out on my own by moving to Montreal. Rain became snow, salt air was only constructed through the over zealous snow removal and fog was either really steam or self induced through hangover. Isolation was cultural and anonymity, and the were no edges. Montreal is the middle. But I still found the sea. Most people studied at home or the library (or didn't study), but I found my haven at the Biodome. Sure, my intertidal zone was a little too sterile, but it was one of the few places I could ground myself.

During the summers I went back to Ucluelet, back to the edge, to stare off the side of the continent. The summers recharged me, and the lack of anonymity often left me eager to escape to my cultural isolation.

Halifax is a nice balance. There's enough of a population base that you can remain somewhat anonymous, but it is situated on the edge. This past weekend, I craved that edge. Jeff, Finnegan and I went for a walk to stare off the side of the continent. I feel recharged.

We are here, next human is here-ish.  Perfect. We need out personal space.
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And over there is Muxia.  It's a long swim.

The sea at our feet and the sun on our faces.  Batteries are recharging.

The Leather Anniversary (More mushy than S&M)

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever

-Tennyson

Three years ago today, Jeff and I had our last date before our wedding.  Our shared love of indie music was one of the things that drew us together (our first date was to see Olenka and the Autumn Lovers in a weird little venue that only had tea available to patrons).  This week in Halifax is the annual Pop Explosion Festival, and in 2011, we were happy to sneak out of the house for a couple of hours on our own to see Dan Mangan play.  Due to weather, he wasn't even sure if he and his band were going to make it from Newfoundland, where they had played the night before.  They rushed straight from the airport to the stage, and as such, didn't have the time to do a proper sound check.  The show was still very good, but near the end of the night, Dan finally unleashed his voice and used the venue to full effect. The rafters of St Matthew's Church grabbed his vocals and threw them heavenward.  The resonate sound was astonishing.  Afterwards, Jeff and I jumped in puddles and wandered by the waterfront, thick with fog and mist, and had a small reprieve from the stress of wedding planning.  No matter how small and casual your wedding, no matter how relaxed it all is - it is not, not one moment of it, relaxing.

On October 22, we stood in our very own backyard and stated in front of family and friends that the rest of our lives together didn't seem long enough for all the things we want to do.  As I was saying to my dear friend Elle last week, it's a pretty neat thing to have such an awesome memory embedded into your own backyard.  I stare at the spot under the apple tree daily.  And every few weeks we renew our commitment to each other, and all the things we want to do by reminding each other that we cannot wait to spend 60 more years together. 

Every time, 60.

Here's to 60 more years my love.

(I accept, and am grateful, that Jeff is more likely to quote Sir Lancelot the Brave than anything by Lord Tennyson.)

Nova Scotia Dreamin

All the leaves are gorgeous and the skies are blue.  We went for a walk on an October day.

It was 25C, and I though we saw a couple of big dogs, they were utter sweethearts.  So, warm and safe. 

And I believe that there is no better temple then the outdoors, when we see all the earth's systems working together to make this planet habitable. 

Thus ends my weird Mamas and Papas post. 

Nova Scotia in October - amazing.