Showing posts with label British Columbia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label British Columbia. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
I Wear Flip Flops* OR 346/365
I never wore flip flops growing up. I remember owning
Jelly Shoes for a summer or two, but on the whole, I
was much more of a sneakers person. I have clear memories of a purple pair of
Velcro shoes circa first grade, canvas high tops circa third grade, and
imitation Keds in the fifth and sixth grades (which got puff-painted to snazz
them up when they started to look worn—c’mon, you know you did it, too!).
The pair I am donning in today’s photo are my third pair
of Old Navy flip flops. This will be their last summer, as the foam is
getting thin.
This pair of flip flips has crossed through the likes of garden dirt, playground turf, grassy field, puddle, and sand. They have been to the Rocky Mountains, Haiti, Nova Scotia, Florida, and the Caribbean. Most recently, they stood at the Western edge of Vancouver Island, where the only thing separating them from Japan was the Pacific Ocean.
Flip-flops, you rock my summers.
Enter junior high and the era of Doc Martens. No, I never
had actual Doc Martens (though I DID have an actual Club Monaco sweatshirt, but let’s
save that for another post, shall we?). But I had the look-alikes. Ooh, and
faux-suede shoes. Man, those were comfy. And more imitation Keds.
But no flip flops.
No sandals, even.
Yep, I was the kid with the sock tan every summer.
Around the eleventh grade (late, I know), I finally got the memo that
sock tans look stupid, and decided that I needed to branch out into some sort
of sandal wear. Thing is, I’m very particular about my footwear. I want my
shoes to look good, feel comfortable, and match with more than one outfit. But
I was not convinced that I wanted flip flops. I find it hard to walk around in
shoes without a support around the back of the heel, and I was also convinced
that I would have nothing but blisters between my toes. That being said, Velcro
strap sandals were trendy at the time, and looked like a viable option. So in
the summer after Grade 11, in a tiny little hamlet in BC, I bought my first
pair of sandals.
And I loved them.
So for the next seven years, I wore this style of sandal
in the summer. I think I went through 2-3 pairs; not entirely sure. Oh,
wait—there were a few summers in university where I also wore Birkenstock-esque sandals for when I needed “fancy” summer footwear. Those
rocked, too.
Then, in 2004, in a mud-fight with the Grade 5-6 class at
the out-of-school care I was working at, a kid stepped on my sandal as I was
running, and the strap popped irreparably apart from the sole. Time for new
sandals.
As I was still in the process of looking for the perfect pair of new sandals,
my friend SK was visiting from Arizona—a blessed state where people can wear
sockless footwear some 300 days a year. Somewhere along the way, the topic of
flip flops came up, and she encouraged me to try them. She reassured me that I
may get blisters on the first day, but nothing more
than that. She also reassured me that—even though she wasn’t entirely sure
how—flip flops don’t fall off. So, with all this in mind, and with a
tourist-necessitated trip to West Edmonton Mall, I entered Old Navy and bought
my first pair of flip flops. They were only $5, so I figured if I ended up not
liking them, I was really only losing $5.
In the end, it was more like, “best $5 spent ever!”
I did get a couple blisters the first few days.
But no, they didn’t fall off.
And they were so comfortable.
And pretty much matched with everything I wore.
AND I could wear them through water.
These things were great!
The pair I am donning in today’s photo are my third pair
of Old Navy flip flops. This will be their last summer, as the foam is
getting thin.This pair of flip flips has crossed through the likes of garden dirt, playground turf, grassy field, puddle, and sand. They have been to the Rocky Mountains, Haiti, Nova Scotia, Florida, and the Caribbean. Most recently, they stood at the Western edge of Vancouver Island, where the only thing separating them from Japan was the Pacific Ocean.
Flip-flops, you rock my summers.
* It's a bit like deja-vu, isn't it?
344/365
Monday, July 23, 2012
Irresistible OR 343/365
On a hot, sunny day at the beach with a camera, it is hard not to take a million pictures. I had taken pictures of the crabs, the horizon, the niece building in the sand, the nephew flying his kite, the friends walking out to sea.
In a moment when everyone was occupied in their own activities, I snuck away to focus on some other photos. A large (LARGE) piece of driftwood lay just down the beach a bit, and I had ideas.
Along with photos of the bleached, textured, driftwood, I was feeling particularly lovely in the summer dress I was wearing, and I thought the breeze might do nice things to it and my hair photographically as I stood on the log, looking out to sea.
After setting up about five or six shots, I heard a soft pitter-patter, pitter-patter in the sand. The sound of a child moving near by. I ignored it at first. I was in a photographer's zone. I did not want to risk making eye contact with some small person who wanted to explore the log. If I made eye contact, then I would see them waiting. And they would see that I could see them waiting. And then they would ask for a turn; if not verbally, then with their eyes. I've worked with children a long time; I know how this works. Selfishly, I set up for another shot, my back to the sound. I figured whoever else was interested in this log could wait just a few more minutes. But as the pitter-patter got closer, I eventually turned to the source of the sound. Fear that they would knock the camera off the log overtook worrying about having to give it up.
It was not just any small person.
"What are you doing, Aunty Gina?"
My heart melts and the selfishness dissolves. "I'm trying to take a picture of myself on this big piece of driftwood." He was intrigued by the fact that I was using a remote to take the picture without having to be behind the camera. "Want to try it?"
He nods.
Well, come on, then. Get up here with me.
"Do this, Aunty Gina," he says, arms out wide to catch the breeze.
How can I say no?
In a moment when everyone was occupied in their own activities, I snuck away to focus on some other photos. A large (LARGE) piece of driftwood lay just down the beach a bit, and I had ideas.
Along with photos of the bleached, textured, driftwood, I was feeling particularly lovely in the summer dress I was wearing, and I thought the breeze might do nice things to it and my hair photographically as I stood on the log, looking out to sea.
After setting up about five or six shots, I heard a soft pitter-patter, pitter-patter in the sand. The sound of a child moving near by. I ignored it at first. I was in a photographer's zone. I did not want to risk making eye contact with some small person who wanted to explore the log. If I made eye contact, then I would see them waiting. And they would see that I could see them waiting. And then they would ask for a turn; if not verbally, then with their eyes. I've worked with children a long time; I know how this works. Selfishly, I set up for another shot, my back to the sound. I figured whoever else was interested in this log could wait just a few more minutes. But as the pitter-patter got closer, I eventually turned to the source of the sound. Fear that they would knock the camera off the log overtook worrying about having to give it up.
It was not just any small person."What are you doing, Aunty Gina?"
My heart melts and the selfishness dissolves. "I'm trying to take a picture of myself on this big piece of driftwood." He was intrigued by the fact that I was using a remote to take the picture without having to be behind the camera. "Want to try it?"
He nods.
Well, come on, then. Get up here with me.
"Do this, Aunty Gina," he says, arms out wide to catch the breeze.
How can I say no?
341/365
The gardens were a-MAZ-ing! Freshness and vibrant colours everywhere. I can't even imagine the meticulous planning that went into the creation of the grounds, nor the level of maintenance required to keep it manicured and gorgeous. Still, every flower and green shrubbery looks like it just bloomed naturally where it was. The transition from one garden to another was virtually seamless.
I especially enjoyed the columns of sweet peas. Their fragrance was noticeable before you even approached them. It was all I could do not to climb in and permanently wrap myself in their scent!
Each flower was so unique! There were many I was familiar with, on some level, and others I had never seen the likes of before. Even the greenery was amazing. Leaves in a variety of sizes, shapes, and textures. Everything surrounding you was just so fresh and alive!
I think one could take an entire day to marvel at these more delicate of God's creations. Still, the afternoon we spent there was thoroughly satisfying to the senses!
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Fairness and Sameness
Traveling with a family with a child with special needs is a unique experience. My friends are veterans at modifying activities and schedules to accommodate each of their three children, including the eldest, eleven, who has a complex disability.
The language of special needs and inclusion is everyday in their household. The other two little ones (currently seven and four) have been able to pronounce their sister's five-syllable diagnosis since they were two.
Earlier this week, we visited Qualicum Falls as part of the day's activities. We discussed which adults would go with which children, because wheelchair accessibility only went so far down the trail.
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I was one of the adults that went with my younger niece and nephew down the winding, stairs-and-hills trail to the falls. At one point, my nephew stated, "dis is not really uh-sess-ible* for P." We had a brief discussion about how it's really hard to make nature fully accessible because in nature, things just grow where they grow, and rocks and things just are where they are. At this point, the conversation ended for the 4-yr-old, but it still had me thinking a bit.
We try very hard where I work to encourage and implement universal design, so that communities, schools, playgrounds, and education are accessible for all individuals. Every stair case has a ramp or elevator near by; every book has a Braille or audio version available in the same library; every classroom is laid out and supplied to meet the unique learning styles of all its students.
Obviously, this is easier said than done sometimes. But on the whole, I generally think we're getting better.
And then there's nature.
The conversation with my nephew made me consider the idea that universal design and Universal Design might not necessarily be the same thing. The magnificent Creator--the Universal Designer--has blessed us with mountains, valleys, white sands, rocky beaches, a myriad of life on land and in the waters. Tall trees and low-lying shrubs. Calm winding creeks and rushing waterfalls. He has created it all for His glory. And yet, clearly, not everyone can access even such simple things as waterfalls and hiking trails
Would He really create a world that was not accessible to everyone who passed by?!
I stand at the edge of the trail, atop the gorge where, at the opposite end, a waterfall crashes. It's not a very big waterfall, but it is still mesmerizing to watch and oddly soothing to listen to. My niece in her wheelchair is maybe 500m away, down a 'lesser' trail, unable to take in any of it. And she's not the only one, I'm sure.
How is that fair?!
And then something my mother used to say to my brother and I echoed in my head:
"'Fair' does not always mean 'the same.'"
Sorry?
"'Fair' does not always mean 'the same.'"
My mother used to remind us of this when one of us would exhibit envy over the other's invitation to a birthday party, or one-on-one time with a parent, or something like that. We were two very different people, and so we engaged in different activities and were shown love and care in different ways sometimes.
And in effect, universal design operates similarly. It's fair, but not necessarily the same. A child with a visual impairment may need to listen to a book on CD, while the other has a hard copy with pictures. And yet, I would never say that the audio version is the 'lesser' book (in fact, if it is well narrated, it may have an advantage over a book that a child reads inside his/her head). Fair does not always mean the same.
So why did it bug me in regards to the waterfalls?
Because I don't see the same outcome.
The child who listens to an audio book and the child who reads her own copy both still end up experiencing the same story. By the end, they both know that the Hungry Caterpillar ate a lot of food one week and turned into a butterfly. They both know that Harry gets the Philosopher's Stone before Voldemort does. They both know that Romeo and Juliet kill themselves to be together.
But P doesn't know the waterfall that I know. So she didn't see the falls--OK. But she couldn't even really hear them from where she was. Totally not the same outcome.
But fair does not always mean the same.
Not the same means, but certainly it should mean the same end?
Fair does not always mean the same.
I don't understand.
She should be able to see the falls. She should be able to hold the starfish at the beach. These are relatively simple, yet meaningful, things.
Meaningful to her or to you?
Well, there's that. But certainly there is someone, somewhere, in a wheelchair, who can't see the falls and wanted to.
...Fair does not always mean the same.
I still don't understand. I don't understand why You would paint a glorious sunset that not everyone passing by the beach that evening would be able to see. I don't understand why you would reveal the knotted roots of a massive fallen tree that not everyone walking by could leave the trail to touch.
But I do have peace knowing that, while experiences of God's creation may not be the same, they are fair.
That is good enough for now.
The language of special needs and inclusion is everyday in their household. The other two little ones (currently seven and four) have been able to pronounce their sister's five-syllable diagnosis since they were two.
Earlier this week, we visited Qualicum Falls as part of the day's activities. We discussed which adults would go with which children, because wheelchair accessibility only went so far down the trail.
.jpg)
We try very hard where I work to encourage and implement universal design, so that communities, schools, playgrounds, and education are accessible for all individuals. Every stair case has a ramp or elevator near by; every book has a Braille or audio version available in the same library; every classroom is laid out and supplied to meet the unique learning styles of all its students.
Obviously, this is easier said than done sometimes. But on the whole, I generally think we're getting better.
And then there's nature.
The conversation with my nephew made me consider the idea that universal design and Universal Design might not necessarily be the same thing. The magnificent Creator--the Universal Designer--has blessed us with mountains, valleys, white sands, rocky beaches, a myriad of life on land and in the waters. Tall trees and low-lying shrubs. Calm winding creeks and rushing waterfalls. He has created it all for His glory. And yet, clearly, not everyone can access even such simple things as waterfalls and hiking trails
Would He really create a world that was not accessible to everyone who passed by?!
I stand at the edge of the trail, atop the gorge where, at the opposite end, a waterfall crashes. It's not a very big waterfall, but it is still mesmerizing to watch and oddly soothing to listen to. My niece in her wheelchair is maybe 500m away, down a 'lesser' trail, unable to take in any of it. And she's not the only one, I'm sure.
How is that fair?!
And then something my mother used to say to my brother and I echoed in my head:
"'Fair' does not always mean 'the same.'"
Sorry?
"'Fair' does not always mean 'the same.'"
My mother used to remind us of this when one of us would exhibit envy over the other's invitation to a birthday party, or one-on-one time with a parent, or something like that. We were two very different people, and so we engaged in different activities and were shown love and care in different ways sometimes.
And in effect, universal design operates similarly. It's fair, but not necessarily the same. A child with a visual impairment may need to listen to a book on CD, while the other has a hard copy with pictures. And yet, I would never say that the audio version is the 'lesser' book (in fact, if it is well narrated, it may have an advantage over a book that a child reads inside his/her head). Fair does not always mean the same.
So why did it bug me in regards to the waterfalls?
Because I don't see the same outcome.
The child who listens to an audio book and the child who reads her own copy both still end up experiencing the same story. By the end, they both know that the Hungry Caterpillar ate a lot of food one week and turned into a butterfly. They both know that Harry gets the Philosopher's Stone before Voldemort does. They both know that Romeo and Juliet kill themselves to be together.
But P doesn't know the waterfall that I know. So she didn't see the falls--OK. But she couldn't even really hear them from where she was. Totally not the same outcome.
But fair does not always mean the same.
Not the same means, but certainly it should mean the same end?
Fair does not always mean the same.
I don't understand.
She should be able to see the falls. She should be able to hold the starfish at the beach. These are relatively simple, yet meaningful, things.Meaningful to her or to you?
Well, there's that. But certainly there is someone, somewhere, in a wheelchair, who can't see the falls and wanted to.
...Fair does not always mean the same.
I still don't understand. I don't understand why You would paint a glorious sunset that not everyone passing by the beach that evening would be able to see. I don't understand why you would reveal the knotted roots of a massive fallen tree that not everyone walking by could leave the trail to touch.
But I do have peace knowing that, while experiences of God's creation may not be the same, they are fair.
That is good enough for now.
*accessible
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Fourteen Hours
That's how long it takes to drive from Edmonton, AB, to Seattle, WA. It includes 4-5 brief stops along the way for gas, food, and pee breaks. It assumes the roads are in good condition (which they were), and it assumes no major traffic issues (of which there were none). It does not (and cannot), however, presume anything on a qualitative level.
The sun was on the rise as JM and I took to the highway. While I could probably be swayed to do a through-the-night road trip again if the circumstances necessitated it, it felt almost like a treat to be able to do most of the drive during daylight. We watched the vast white Alberta farm fields and snow-capped Rockies disappear into interior British Columbia desert. And then we watched that disappear into the lush, green coastal state of Washington. We stepped out of winter and into a reprieve of spring.
Fourteen hours allows for a lot. First there was the Creepy Green Jetta. We passed him between Edmonton and Jasper. He was elderly, with a flamingo pink shirt hanging in the back window. And when we passed, he gave us a slow, creepy, wiggly-fingers wave. We shuddered a quick "ew" and continued on. We topped up in Jasper, grabbed lunch, and got back on the road. Within an hour we were on the BC stretch of the trip. Early in, mind you, I noticed an oddly familiar-looking car. "Is that that green Jetta?" I asked. Sure enough, as we passed, we were given another slow, creepy, wiggly-fingers wave by the elderly man we had seen before. Did he wave to everyone who passed him like that? Or were we 'special'? Fortunately, we kept ahead of him after that.
Then there was the devil himself. AKA U-Haul. There was a curiously high ratio of U-Haul trucks and trailers on the highways between Edmonton and Seattle, I thought. Every time we passed one, I was forced to mutter "spawn of Satan" under my breath, but was simultaneously impressed that they were actually moving, and not broken down at the side of the road. I'm not bitter, by the way. At one point... we had made a pit stop in Hope, and while you can get back on the Northbound highway from the exit we took, you can apparently NOT get back on the Southbound highway, which is what we wanted. So we backtracked a bit, until I could exit off on a secondary highway. From there I noticed a small roadside turnout. JM alluded to just pulling a full U-turn from the road and not bothering with the turnout, but I was bent on getting my car back in the right direction as conservatively as possible, apparently. All around the roadside turnout were trees, so it was not until I was actually in the turnout that I noticed the abandoned U-Haul trailer sitting there. I gasped. From beside me in the dark, I heard, "I told you not to turn here."
...You can explore a lot conversationally in fourteen hours. The lyrics in music; the plot lines of favoured TV shows; the circumstances of life, friends, and work; the character of God. Customs officers, apparently, don't realize this. We pulled through the border at Sumas (always cross at Sumas--skip the Peace Arch), and were asked the standard questions. Then she got into the seemingly random and unusual questions. Which we were fine providing answers for. But near the end of her inquisition, she asked--with a slightly incredulous tone--"you drove twelve hours just for the weekend?" Um, yes, actually. And we still have two to go. And not only that, we've done it before. AND, I know of others who have driven longer for the same amount of vacation time. How rare did she think this kind of thing was? Seriously.
We arrived at the hotel in Bellevue NOT exhausted, and with time enough to spare before bed to check out the hot tub. I could have spent 14 hours there, too. But alas, Bellevue and Seattle were waiting.
The sun was on the rise as JM and I took to the highway. While I could probably be swayed to do a through-the-night road trip again if the circumstances necessitated it, it felt almost like a treat to be able to do most of the drive during daylight. We watched the vast white Alberta farm fields and snow-capped Rockies disappear into interior British Columbia desert. And then we watched that disappear into the lush, green coastal state of Washington. We stepped out of winter and into a reprieve of spring.
Fourteen hours allows for a lot. First there was the Creepy Green Jetta. We passed him between Edmonton and Jasper. He was elderly, with a flamingo pink shirt hanging in the back window. And when we passed, he gave us a slow, creepy, wiggly-fingers wave. We shuddered a quick "ew" and continued on. We topped up in Jasper, grabbed lunch, and got back on the road. Within an hour we were on the BC stretch of the trip. Early in, mind you, I noticed an oddly familiar-looking car. "Is that that green Jetta?" I asked. Sure enough, as we passed, we were given another slow, creepy, wiggly-fingers wave by the elderly man we had seen before. Did he wave to everyone who passed him like that? Or were we 'special'? Fortunately, we kept ahead of him after that.
Then there was the devil himself. AKA U-Haul. There was a curiously high ratio of U-Haul trucks and trailers on the highways between Edmonton and Seattle, I thought. Every time we passed one, I was forced to mutter "spawn of Satan" under my breath, but was simultaneously impressed that they were actually moving, and not broken down at the side of the road. I'm not bitter, by the way. At one point... we had made a pit stop in Hope, and while you can get back on the Northbound highway from the exit we took, you can apparently NOT get back on the Southbound highway, which is what we wanted. So we backtracked a bit, until I could exit off on a secondary highway. From there I noticed a small roadside turnout. JM alluded to just pulling a full U-turn from the road and not bothering with the turnout, but I was bent on getting my car back in the right direction as conservatively as possible, apparently. All around the roadside turnout were trees, so it was not until I was actually in the turnout that I noticed the abandoned U-Haul trailer sitting there. I gasped. From beside me in the dark, I heard, "I told you not to turn here."
...You can explore a lot conversationally in fourteen hours. The lyrics in music; the plot lines of favoured TV shows; the circumstances of life, friends, and work; the character of God. Customs officers, apparently, don't realize this. We pulled through the border at Sumas (always cross at Sumas--skip the Peace Arch), and were asked the standard questions. Then she got into the seemingly random and unusual questions. Which we were fine providing answers for. But near the end of her inquisition, she asked--with a slightly incredulous tone--"you drove twelve hours just for the weekend?" Um, yes, actually. And we still have two to go. And not only that, we've done it before. AND, I know of others who have driven longer for the same amount of vacation time. How rare did she think this kind of thing was? Seriously.
We arrived at the hotel in Bellevue NOT exhausted, and with time enough to spare before bed to check out the hot tub. I could have spent 14 hours there, too. But alas, Bellevue and Seattle were waiting.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tom and Aubergine Take Us to Seattle
There are not a lot of people in my world who don't know that I embarked on my first ever road trip over the Labour Day long weekend. JM, SC and I adventured down to Seattle, Washington for some shopping and some sight-seeing. We had a blast; the whole experience was just absolutely wonderful. I would even endure the stressful parts (that go along with any road trip) if it meant experiencing the same wonderfulness all over again.
The Drive Down (aka Sleepless To Seattle)
Work committments (mine) meant that we left late Friday afternoon. It took us 45 minutes to get out of Edmonton from Downtown, which we'd prepared for, it being a long weekend and all. Still, I felt it was once we were outside the city limits that we really started to get 'into' the drive down. Once the sun had set after we passed through Hinton, we traveled by the light of a glorious full moon, which cast black silhouetted mountains all night long. It was such a serene drive. ...For the most part...
We filled up Kamloops, which was the most complicated gas fill-up I've ever experienced. First off, it was around 2am, which meant I had to pre-pay with the dude in the store. Except you aren't let into the store. You pass your credit card through a box and tell him how much you want to pre-pay for. But in my case, my Visa suddenly had a fraud altert notice on it, and I couldn't use it. SIGH. Will have to call Visa in the morning. Okay, so debit card. Here comes the pin pad through the fancy box. But of course, if you don't fill up to what you authorized for, THEN you have to go back to the man on the other side of the box and get a refund for the difference. And then... can I get the washroom key? ...Again, all through the box.
Finally, we're on our way again. The car-top carrier vibrated a constant hum, despite attempts to silence it with additional bungee cords. Sometimes we managed to tune it out, other times, not so much. We gave up just outside Kamloops. Which was where I discovered the joys of the Coquihala. With the car-top carrier (not full, but still present) and the three of us, my car was not accelerating up hills at its normal capacity. And really, it's a 4-cylinder Civic. How much torque does she really have at the best of times? Well, the Coquihala is the most up and down highway system I've ever been on. On the inclines, it was all I could do to keep my car above 90km/h. I dropped down into fourth gear almost every time. But on the down grades, it was all I could do NOT to go faster than 120! There was one point where I took my foot off the gas because I was near 130km/h, and the car did not slow down on its own! Ain't no one sleeping at the wheel on that highway, I tell ya.
Finally, we reached the border. And that was easy-peasy. So, okay, Tom (the GPS system), where to now? Oh, you want me to go on that road that doesn't exist. Hmm... I'm not cool with that, Tom. We meander through the comunity of Nooksack for what seems like forEVer, and eventually hit the I-5. Hallelujah. Next challenge: getting to the hotel in Bellevue. We need to get from the I-5 to the 405, and I don't know why it was so challenging, because we did it with great ease several times over the next three days, but we missed it, had to turn around and try again. And it felt very confusing. And we were right exhausted by this point.
So we get to the hotel, ready to just crash on the beds in our hotel room, when we are informed that there is only one bed in our hotel room. Seriously?! Mix up in the reservation. Sigh. If a cancellation happens later, we can be upgraded, we are told. But right now, the hotel is full. Fine. Grumpily and wearily, we climb into bed (thankfully a king-size). ...Joy comes in the morning?
Joy and Peace Restored! (aka Saturday)
Although I only slept for two hours (solidly, at least), I was already feeling better on Saturday. While JM and SC slept a little bit longer, I went to the lobby, printed a couple maps for the day, and dealt with the Visa people. We had a lot of shopping coming up, and I needed a working credit card!
Our first fun activity of the day was The Container Store, which is like the home organization section of Ikea on steroids. They have a sign above much of their merchandise that states, "Organized. Happy." That pretty much sums it up. :) All three of us came out with perfect purchases. And as I vacuum-packed my linens this evening, I did yet another happy dance!
After The Container Store, we headed into Seattle for the first time. Ladies and gentlemen, Seattle is beautiful. If it weren't for the overall lack of sunshine (and the fact that it's not Canada), I think I could totally live there. It's hilly, but without it feeling like the sky is closing in on you. The pace of the city is very laid-back. And everyone is so nice! We headed down to Pike's Market and checked things out there. I will need to come back to Seattle sometime when I can take a day by myself and take advantage of the photo ops down there. There was so much culture and dynamic! I enjoyed taking in the sights of the market, even if it did get overwhelming very quickly.
We ate dinner at a fun place called the Steelhead Diner, and then spontaneously decided to head to the Space Needle afterwards and check out the view. It was a good half hour walk to digest dinner and visually take in the downtown core. The Space Needle was great! I had been told it wasn't all that spectacular, but for a shutterbug at sunset, it was so nice!
By the time we came down from the Needle, it was pretty much dark, and we felt ready for a couple drinks before heading back to the hotel. We found this little place a couple blocks from the Needle called the Tilikum Place Cafe, and I cannot accurately or justifiably describe how wonderful this little place was. As we chatted about trip highlights on Monday's drive home, this little cafe came out as one of the top activities. Perhaps it was cuz we first went into this lounge that was a complete dive, I dunno. But we walked into this quiet and classy cafe, and were greeted by the nicest, most friendly staff I've ever run into. It was a family-run cafe, and you could tell that they loved what they did. The gentlemen who served us happily obliged to 'create' drinks that weren't directly off the menu, including the most accurate re-creation of my favourite drink. We chatted and sipped quite leisurely, sleep coming on, but none of us quite wanting to leave right away. Eventually we did depart. We had another exciting day ahead of us.
Shop Till You Drop (aka Sunday)
We had set aside Sunday to attack Seattle Premium Outlets, home of 110 different outlet stores, many of which don't yet exist in Canada. And even if they do, everything in them was relatively less expensive then purchasing them up here. PLUS, Alberta and Washington (and a couple other states) have an agreement that when visiting Washington, Albertans don't have to pay sales tax. It's a pretty sweet deal. We all did our own little happy dances and happy giggles in various stores. JM could have brought all of Le Creuset's kitchenwares home with her; SC found little plastic muffin holders for the muffins she takes to work (that may not sound overly exciting, but you didn't see the look of excitement on her face!); and I finally got a new windbreaker to replace my old, dying MEC one. It's from Columbia, it's brown and pink, and I love it. It also has a fleecy insert, so I can wear it into the early winter, as well (my big MEC winter jacket is not exactly trendy anymore, but it's in too good condition to justify a new one, so I would like to save it for just the -40 days). ...I also managed to grab a few stocking stuffers and such, and felt the trip was thoroughly successful. ...I have no justifications for spending any money on myself from now till the New Year, mind you!
After the outlets, we went back into Seattle for dinner, drinks, and dessert. JM and SC went for one last market jaunt, and dropped me off a few blocks before that to check out a store I'd been interested in on Saturday. Alas, it was closed, so I took advantage of the hour I had to myself and checked out a couple stores on the way to the market area, and tried to get at least a few pictures before meeting up with the girls again for supper.
They had found a little restaurant above the market area (Lowell's Restaurant), in which we sat at a window looking west across the Seattle port. And of course, the sun was in its early stages of setting, so the view was just so great. I also had the most amazing grilled cheese sandwich in the world (three cheeses, tomato, and bacon). ...After supper, we headed out for drinks and dessert. The wind had picked up, and it was relatively cold. The first three places we tried had 45-75min waits (apparently Sunday at 7pm on a long weekend is a peak time for restaurants in Seattle), but finally managed to find a place a little off the beaten track that seated us immediately. I tried creme brulee for the first time, and loved it. I also had Bailey's and coffee for the first time, and loved that, too. It was an excellent way to wind down the evening.
Upon returning to the hotel, we were finally able to upgrade our room to one with two beds (hooray, hooray!). I got a bed to myself that night; I felt very spoiled!
The Road Home (aka Smoothest Trip Ever)
We were up and at 'em quite early Monday morning to get a head start back to Canada. We had no idea what the border crossing would be like, and we knew we'd be dealing with duty and such once we got there. Plus we all had to work the next day. We went back the way we had come--through Nooksack and all that--and it was surprising how much more enjoyable it was to travel through during the day time. What a scenic little place, Northern Washington! It was also quite out of the way of traffic, and so when we arrived at the border, it was much like it had been when we'd come down: we were the only car. We pulled up to the stop, and answered the standard questions. Then we had to tell the customs lady how much money we'd spent. Julia and I were both over the 48-hour limit somewhat. "Were you guys aware of your exemption limits" "No, not really." (yeah, we kinda were, actually). The customs lady explained our limits, and how normally we'd have to go inside and fill out the forms for tax, duty and all that fun stuff. "But because you weren't aware of your exemption, I'm going to let you guys go through. But just so you're aware for next time..." and goes on to politely ask us to make sure we do our research before we next cross the border.
Once we are in the clear, all I hear is giggling from JM in the driver's seat before she exclaims, "ohmygod, I LOVE Canada!" ...Not that you reading this should take this as an example of how your own border crossing may or may not pan out on your own road trip, but we weren't really going to complain about ours.
Happily (in daylight, with a silent car-top carrier [we fixed it], and having slept the night before), we drove back through the glorious BC terrain and into our home province. Much conversation, and much music later, we drove the last stretch from Hinton home, again closing the day with a beautiful sunset behind us, and a large, rich harvest moon rising ahead of us. When I got home, I was just as exhausted as when I'd arrived in Seattle, but this time, it was the good kind of exhausted.
My summer has officially come to an end. What a wonderful finale.
The Drive Down (aka Sleepless To Seattle)
Work committments (mine) meant that we left late Friday afternoon. It took us 45 minutes to get out of Edmonton from Downtown, which we'd prepared for, it being a long weekend and all. Still, I felt it was once we were outside the city limits that we really started to get 'into' the drive down. Once the sun had set after we passed through Hinton, we traveled by the light of a glorious full moon, which cast black silhouetted mountains all night long. It was such a serene drive. ...For the most part...
We filled up Kamloops, which was the most complicated gas fill-up I've ever experienced. First off, it was around 2am, which meant I had to pre-pay with the dude in the store. Except you aren't let into the store. You pass your credit card through a box and tell him how much you want to pre-pay for. But in my case, my Visa suddenly had a fraud altert notice on it, and I couldn't use it. SIGH. Will have to call Visa in the morning. Okay, so debit card. Here comes the pin pad through the fancy box. But of course, if you don't fill up to what you authorized for, THEN you have to go back to the man on the other side of the box and get a refund for the difference. And then... can I get the washroom key? ...Again, all through the box.
Finally, we're on our way again. The car-top carrier vibrated a constant hum, despite attempts to silence it with additional bungee cords. Sometimes we managed to tune it out, other times, not so much. We gave up just outside Kamloops. Which was where I discovered the joys of the Coquihala. With the car-top carrier (not full, but still present) and the three of us, my car was not accelerating up hills at its normal capacity. And really, it's a 4-cylinder Civic. How much torque does she really have at the best of times? Well, the Coquihala is the most up and down highway system I've ever been on. On the inclines, it was all I could do to keep my car above 90km/h. I dropped down into fourth gear almost every time. But on the down grades, it was all I could do NOT to go faster than 120! There was one point where I took my foot off the gas because I was near 130km/h, and the car did not slow down on its own! Ain't no one sleeping at the wheel on that highway, I tell ya.
Finally, we reached the border. And that was easy-peasy. So, okay, Tom (the GPS system), where to now? Oh, you want me to go on that road that doesn't exist. Hmm... I'm not cool with that, Tom. We meander through the comunity of Nooksack for what seems like forEVer, and eventually hit the I-5. Hallelujah. Next challenge: getting to the hotel in Bellevue. We need to get from the I-5 to the 405, and I don't know why it was so challenging, because we did it with great ease several times over the next three days, but we missed it, had to turn around and try again. And it felt very confusing. And we were right exhausted by this point.
So we get to the hotel, ready to just crash on the beds in our hotel room, when we are informed that there is only one bed in our hotel room. Seriously?! Mix up in the reservation. Sigh. If a cancellation happens later, we can be upgraded, we are told. But right now, the hotel is full. Fine. Grumpily and wearily, we climb into bed (thankfully a king-size). ...Joy comes in the morning?
Joy and Peace Restored! (aka Saturday)
Although I only slept for two hours (solidly, at least), I was already feeling better on Saturday. While JM and SC slept a little bit longer, I went to the lobby, printed a couple maps for the day, and dealt with the Visa people. We had a lot of shopping coming up, and I needed a working credit card!
Our first fun activity of the day was The Container Store, which is like the home organization section of Ikea on steroids. They have a sign above much of their merchandise that states, "Organized. Happy." That pretty much sums it up. :) All three of us came out with perfect purchases. And as I vacuum-packed my linens this evening, I did yet another happy dance!
After The Container Store, we headed into Seattle for the first time. Ladies and gentlemen, Seattle is beautiful. If it weren't for the overall lack of sunshine (and the fact that it's not Canada), I think I could totally live there. It's hilly, but without it feeling like the sky is closing in on you. The pace of the city is very laid-back. And everyone is so nice! We headed down to Pike's Market and checked things out there. I will need to come back to Seattle sometime when I can take a day by myself and take advantage of the photo ops down there. There was so much culture and dynamic! I enjoyed taking in the sights of the market, even if it did get overwhelming very quickly.We ate dinner at a fun place called the Steelhead Diner, and then spontaneously decided to head to the Space Needle afterwards and check out the view. It was a good half hour walk to digest dinner and visually take in the downtown core. The Space Needle was great! I had been told it wasn't all that spectacular, but for a shutterbug at sunset, it was so nice!
By the time we came down from the Needle, it was pretty much dark, and we felt ready for a couple drinks before heading back to the hotel. We found this little place a couple blocks from the Needle called the Tilikum Place Cafe, and I cannot accurately or justifiably describe how wonderful this little place was. As we chatted about trip highlights on Monday's drive home, this little cafe came out as one of the top activities. Perhaps it was cuz we first went into this lounge that was a complete dive, I dunno. But we walked into this quiet and classy cafe, and were greeted by the nicest, most friendly staff I've ever run into. It was a family-run cafe, and you could tell that they loved what they did. The gentlemen who served us happily obliged to 'create' drinks that weren't directly off the menu, including the most accurate re-creation of my favourite drink. We chatted and sipped quite leisurely, sleep coming on, but none of us quite wanting to leave right away. Eventually we did depart. We had another exciting day ahead of us.
Shop Till You Drop (aka Sunday)
We had set aside Sunday to attack Seattle Premium Outlets, home of 110 different outlet stores, many of which don't yet exist in Canada. And even if they do, everything in them was relatively less expensive then purchasing them up here. PLUS, Alberta and Washington (and a couple other states) have an agreement that when visiting Washington, Albertans don't have to pay sales tax. It's a pretty sweet deal. We all did our own little happy dances and happy giggles in various stores. JM could have brought all of Le Creuset's kitchenwares home with her; SC found little plastic muffin holders for the muffins she takes to work (that may not sound overly exciting, but you didn't see the look of excitement on her face!); and I finally got a new windbreaker to replace my old, dying MEC one. It's from Columbia, it's brown and pink, and I love it. It also has a fleecy insert, so I can wear it into the early winter, as well (my big MEC winter jacket is not exactly trendy anymore, but it's in too good condition to justify a new one, so I would like to save it for just the -40 days). ...I also managed to grab a few stocking stuffers and such, and felt the trip was thoroughly successful. ...I have no justifications for spending any money on myself from now till the New Year, mind you!
After the outlets, we went back into Seattle for dinner, drinks, and dessert. JM and SC went for one last market jaunt, and dropped me off a few blocks before that to check out a store I'd been interested in on Saturday. Alas, it was closed, so I took advantage of the hour I had to myself and checked out a couple stores on the way to the market area, and tried to get at least a few pictures before meeting up with the girls again for supper.They had found a little restaurant above the market area (Lowell's Restaurant), in which we sat at a window looking west across the Seattle port. And of course, the sun was in its early stages of setting, so the view was just so great. I also had the most amazing grilled cheese sandwich in the world (three cheeses, tomato, and bacon). ...After supper, we headed out for drinks and dessert. The wind had picked up, and it was relatively cold. The first three places we tried had 45-75min waits (apparently Sunday at 7pm on a long weekend is a peak time for restaurants in Seattle), but finally managed to find a place a little off the beaten track that seated us immediately. I tried creme brulee for the first time, and loved it. I also had Bailey's and coffee for the first time, and loved that, too. It was an excellent way to wind down the evening.
Upon returning to the hotel, we were finally able to upgrade our room to one with two beds (hooray, hooray!). I got a bed to myself that night; I felt very spoiled!
The Road Home (aka Smoothest Trip Ever)
We were up and at 'em quite early Monday morning to get a head start back to Canada. We had no idea what the border crossing would be like, and we knew we'd be dealing with duty and such once we got there. Plus we all had to work the next day. We went back the way we had come--through Nooksack and all that--and it was surprising how much more enjoyable it was to travel through during the day time. What a scenic little place, Northern Washington! It was also quite out of the way of traffic, and so when we arrived at the border, it was much like it had been when we'd come down: we were the only car. We pulled up to the stop, and answered the standard questions. Then we had to tell the customs lady how much money we'd spent. Julia and I were both over the 48-hour limit somewhat. "Were you guys aware of your exemption limits" "No, not really." (yeah, we kinda were, actually). The customs lady explained our limits, and how normally we'd have to go inside and fill out the forms for tax, duty and all that fun stuff. "But because you weren't aware of your exemption, I'm going to let you guys go through. But just so you're aware for next time..." and goes on to politely ask us to make sure we do our research before we next cross the border.
Once we are in the clear, all I hear is giggling from JM in the driver's seat before she exclaims, "ohmygod, I LOVE Canada!" ...Not that you reading this should take this as an example of how your own border crossing may or may not pan out on your own road trip, but we weren't really going to complain about ours.
Happily (in daylight, with a silent car-top carrier [we fixed it], and having slept the night before), we drove back through the glorious BC terrain and into our home province. Much conversation, and much music later, we drove the last stretch from Hinton home, again closing the day with a beautiful sunset behind us, and a large, rich harvest moon rising ahead of us. When I got home, I was just as exhausted as when I'd arrived in Seattle, but this time, it was the good kind of exhausted.
My summer has officially come to an end. What a wonderful finale.
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