Aware of the Invisible

I recently learned that this week is Invisible Disability Awareness Week.

I have mixed feelings about awareness weeks. Awareness is great, but sometimes I feel like it doesn't move the needle just by being aware that certain disabilities, illnesses, or stigmas exist in the world. And yet, as was stated more than once in a course I took on implicit bias: "aware is halfway there." So maybe there's something to it.

(c) Photos by Gina

Coincidentally, this awareness week is the same week I am taking a photography course in Oregon. Last year, I took the instructor's course in Nevada. It was great! And, I was exhausted most of the time. In hindsight, I can see that I was crashing. Too much stimulation, too much exertion, too much excitement (and too much jumping).

I had confirmed my trip for this year shortly before I was diagnosed. Once I started to understand how my body was using energy, I searched the internet for travel tips. It was interesting to see some of the things I'd already started doing in recent weekend trips to support my own well-being. Clearly, I listen to my body more than I give myself credit for.

I've put some additional strategies in place for this trip--gleaned from others who've gone before me--in the hopes of mitigating the post-exertional malaise. Some of these strategies are as invisible as the disability itself; others will make it more obvious that I don't go about some tasks like others do.

I'm not so sure it's awareness I'll need as much as empathy.

One cool thing I discovered in an ME/CFS support group is the Hidden Disability Sunflower Program. Increasingly, businesses around the world--and airports in particular--are recognizing the sunflower as the symbol of invisible disability or illness. A visual prompt for awareness and empathy, as it were.

All four airports I will be travelling through are part of this program.

[Insert sigh of relief here.]

I have a lanyard that I'll be wearing, as well as sunflower stickers on some of my belongings, that I'm hoping will--as their website says--"make the invisible visible."

We'll see how it goes. 🌻

Plan, Prep, Pace

I hiked among the larch trees last fall. According to the reviews on AllTrails.com, it was considered moderate, yet kid-friendly. "If a six-year-old can do it, surely I can do it," I thought.

At that point in my health journey, I knew that physical activity exhausted me, though I didn't know why. It was a hike that I tried to take slowly and gently; yet, it still left me exhausted for a full week afterwards.

One year later, with a diagnosis in hand, I hold the gift of hindsight.

For those with ME/CFS, it's not only physical exertion that sucks mitochondria dry and frazzles the nervous system. Turns out that cognitive, social, and emotional exertion add to the load as well. When I thought of all the activities surrounding the actual hike, it's no wonder I crashed.*

With a strong disposition of persistence, I considered what would need to happen for a successful hike this year. Peyto Lake was a spot I had yet to see with my own three eyes (the two on my face, and the one on my camera), and I wanted the autumn colours against the aquamarine water.

And I did not want to crash.**

(c) Photos by Gina

• So, instead of a day-trip, it became an overnight trip.

• I worked from home the day before.

• I did not take any Airbnb bookings upstairs in the days leading up to my trip, so that I could be more blasé about cleaning and tidying.

• I did only necessary chores.

• My friend and I agreed I would not do any of the driving.

• And, though I didn't ask, she carried my backpack of snacks, water, and camera gear the whole way.

• We took a slow pace with lots of breaks.

• I monitored my heart rate the whole way; I kept my breathing measured and steady.

• And upon returning home, I didn't rush to put everything away. (My car is still half full of gear.)

All this, on top of the regular, daily things I do to keep my system stable.

...Now, the deceptive part about crashes is that they can be delayed by 12-72 hours after the activity or event. I had 3 crashes during the summer, and two of them I wasn't expecting. It's delightful. (#sarcasm). And so, as I went to bed on Sunday night, I wondered, "did it work?" 

...It worked.

As I type this at the 72-hour mark, a smile creeps up my face. My first pacing success.

Next to actually getting my diagnosis earlier this spring, this feels like the biggest of wins. 

* A "crash" is the term in the ME/CFS community to describe overdoing it. The clinical term is post-exertional-malaise (PEM), which means a worsening of ME/CFS symptoms after any sort of exertion. For me, a crash looks like a dysfunctional 24-48 hours on the couch, with brain fog that would make London jealous.

** Not just because a crash feels extra awful, but also because crashes can contribute to overall decline in the long run. 

A Beautiful Hassle

Air travel is a hassle. Playing Tetris with everything you want to put in your suitcase. Getting up at ridiculous a.m. hours to get to the airport in the required time frame. Winding your way through security. Laptop out. Boarding pass out. Shoes off. Pat down.

You sit on a modestly comfortable lounge chair with your coffee. You are attached to your carry-on bags, which means sliding them into tiny washroom stalls, hoping all zips are closed and no straps are dangling.

You haul your belongings onto the plane, crawling over other passengers so you can squish yourself into your seat.

The flight is delayed, they need to de-ice the plane.

The smell of airplane, the nauseated feeling when the plane tips and your inner ear does not. Wet wipes for table trays, and trying to drink water without turbulence sloshing it all over you. Your ears pop.

The passenger in front of you has gas, the one beside you has mild BO. The person directly behind you just sneezed.

You land and wait to deplane--"we're just waiting on the ground crew"--and you notice that your connecting flight starts boarding in ten minutes. You race between terminals with your belongings, vaguely aware of the sweat forming under your clothing. Do I still have time to grab a Timmy's?

Yup, air travel is a hassle.

And air travel is beautiful.

Upon take off, this giant metal tube with hundreds of people inside defies gravity as cars, trees, and buildings get smaller. Despite all we have created and discovered--smart phones, space stations, cures for disease--there is something about good ol' fashioned air travel that reminds me of the power of human innovation. I am in awe.

Simultaneously, I am humbled. In my day-to-day activities, I am aware that I take up physical space. I am a driver on the road, a voice at team meetings, a being with agency and influence. In the air, I am a speck. We are all specks. This world was here before us and it will be here after we are buried beneath it or scattered across it. The world keeps moving along, whether I am down in the thick of it or flying above it.

I always try to get a window seat.* This is partially to reduce the potential for motion sickness, but mostly for the view. Because, the view. It is gorgeous and breathtaking and life-giving all at once.

As we move over the land, a sense of wonder takes over. Patchwork quilts of prairie fields go on forever; trees and rivers ribbon together; small flecks of white are sprinkled across the deepest blue ocean. We float above clouds that I swear I could hold in my hands.

Eventually we begin the descent. We glide parallel to mountain peaks in the distance. We drop through the clouds and circle around to orient the plane towards the runway. A calm lake below reflects the light so perfectly that I am seeing the sky with its cotton-ball clouds on the ground. The evening sun glints off vehicles below, and the city ripples with a glittery sparkle.

I take in a new landscape. That is quite the freeway interchange; wow, the water really is that blue. I am reconnected to the places I know. I'm pretty sure that's that street; oh yes, because over there is that building.

The harvest moon comes up as the wheels touch down, and a symphony of seat belts un-click. I'm about to start a new adventure, or throw myself into my favourite people, or collapse into that familiar bed.

It is all a hassle.
And it is all beautiful.
And I will take it every time.






* Current success rate: about 90%.

Where 100,000 Will Take You

I enjoy driving. I am my father's daughter in this regard, traversing whatever kilometres I must to get where I want to go. When I'm not commuting to and from work, I'd say the majority of my driving is to either visit the people I care most about, or to explore somewhere with my camera.

So is it any wonder that after four years of moving to and from these places with my current car (a Dodge Dart named Tom), he would hit his 100,000km mark on a road in rural Saskatchewan... a trip he has made many times to keep me connected to some of my favourite people.

Within Edmonton, I must admit that Tom and I have... struggled... to get along with the city streets.* But--we have always enjoyed the open road together. It is interesting where different seasons of our lives take us. My Honda went everywhere. Mountains, ocean, foothills, prairie--she even crossed into the United States more than once. To be fair, I owned Aubergine twice as long as I've currently owned Tom. That being said, thus far, Tom has only had a taste of the mountains and foothills, he's never been to the ocean, nor has he crossed any international borders.

But the prairie.

Well.

Tom is a prairie expert.

The view at 100,000km.

Under the ever-wide sky, we have explored the green and yellow patchwork of summer fields, as well as the white blankets of winter. We have stopped to take in unexpected delights, and we never hesitate to pull over for a good sunset. In the dark of winter, thousands of songs, a hundred podcasts, and several audio books have helped to pass the time.

All so that I can access the pieces of my heart that I have scattered abroad.

Tom's knees are starting to creak, his face is pock-marked by gravel and dust, and his interior is in desperate need of a bath. ...I've put him through a lot in four years.

At 25,000km per year, I am hoping he and I can enjoy at least another four together, and I am curious to see which directions our ambitions take us.

There is so much yet to explore.


* But if you need to find a pothole, a nail, or a piece of wayward rebar, I'm your gal.

That Person in My House

At the time of this writing, I have been a host through AirBnb* for about a year and a half. For those unfamiliar with the concept, AirBnB serves to connect travellers to local accommodation experiences. Hosts list their available space on the AirBnB website, and guests book online.

Several circumstances aligned in the summer of 2014 that motivated me to try it out. My brother, who had lived with me for two years while going to school, had just moved out. Not only did having him around provide a nice chunk of change, but I realized that--despite my fierce independence and introversion--I didn't actually mind having another person in the house on a regular basis. That being said, I wasn't sure how comfortable I was with the idea of being a landlord to a long-term tenant I didn't know.

Around the same time, a friend of mine told me about this experience she'd had with AirBnb while travelling in the States. She'd absolutely loved it, and I was intrigued about the flexibility of the service in terms of the type of space one could offer, and how guests can go about booking.

Combine this with a strong value in living local, and suddenly I found myself deep-cleaning my house and prepping the main floor guest room for its very first guest in September of 2014.

Eighteen months later, I have not looked back.** Being an AirBnb host is a unique privilege. Sure, I've had a few strange personalities meander through; but in roughly 70 bookings, I've never had a negative experience.

One of the first questions people ask me when the topic comes up in conversation is, "so, how is that, having complete strangers in your home?" To which I generally shrug my shoulders a bit and reply, "it's totally fine!" Which it truly is! And yet I've never really been able to elaborate on why that is--which surprises me, considering how much I generally reflect upon and analyze my own experiences.

This recent TED talk, however, helped me start to understand why the whole AirBnb experience has likely been so positive: it was designed that way.***



It's quite obvious on their website and blog that AirBnb is about fostering community. One of their hashtags is (or at least, was) #OneLessStranger. But to say you foster community, and to design your whole system in a way that invites community are two different things.

In the video, Joe Gebbia talks about designing for trust. I think it can be easy for the skeptical person to look at that negatively, as in, he's designing AirBnb to manipulate us into trust, the same way commercials make their products look more appealing than they likely are. But I don't think that's what he's meaning at all. I hear him saying that he believes in the inherent good of people--something I believe in as well--and the desire to connect. But he recognizes that societally, we are taught not to trust--stranger danger and all that. And so he's designed AirBnb to overcome how we've been 'programmed' for mistrust; he's designed the system to invite trust, the way our basic human instinct does when someone smiles at us.

I feel like AirBnb invites trust while at the same time maintaining healthy boundaries. There are checks and balances in place to ensure that guests and hosts are safe, identities are authentic, payments don't get awkward, reviews are honest, and both guests and hosts are supported as needed. I've also traveled almost exclusively using AirBnb for my own accommodations, and I feel like the system is seamless both ways.

I have had so many interactions that never would have happened were it not for being a host. I have met people from all over the world. With some guests I've stood in a River Valley clearing to take in the skyline; with others I've stood in a wheat field. I've tasted Austrian candy. I am proof that a Muslim and a Christian can live together and enjoy each other's company. I have fostered friendship. And through all this--I hope--I have played a role in enhancing trust between people--not just because AirBnb has designed for trust, but because we are designed for that too.






* Disclaimer: This blog post was created entirely on my own initiative--I have not been requested or required in any way by AirBnB to promote their business; I guess it's just a happy perk for them!

** I am actually excited to find myself prepping my downstairs guest room to open to guests in a few weeks!

*** If you're the kind of geek that wants to look more closely at the research behind the design not mentioned in the video, check out this link.

A Year With Tom

Dear Tom,

It's been an interesting year, hasn't it? We didn't exactly choose each other, did we. We were matched a bit more through necessity than choice, and it's been an interesting year getting to know you.

When you arrived, I was still grieving a vehicle who had given me so many good years and memories. I had been treated poorly by the ones who made you, the ones who released you to me, and other vehicles similar to yourself. So by the time we met, I was both relieved to finally have you and yet wary of you at the same time. For a long time, all I could think was,

You are not Aubergine.

You are noisier than she was.

You are just a bit slower to get everything going in the morning.

Sometimes you're glitchy, and it's annoying.

Your oil changes are more expensive.

And your mileage isn't all that much better.

So I made you prove yourself to me. Over the course of the year, I've put you through the paces a bit to show you how we do things around here, and to see if you could keep up. I've filled your trunk with all manner of things needing to go all manner of places. I've plunked a variety of small, unpredictable people into your back seat. I left you at the airport for five days. I've dragged you all over the city at all times of day. Together, you and I have traipsed through prairies, foothills, mountains. Sunshine, rain, and snow. Keep up; and, you did.

I still find myself thinking,

You are not Aubergine.

Because I can finally listen to my iPod and iPhone through your speakers.

And all your speakers work.

And because your wheels may have had a hard time this winter, but you certainly did not.

You still have a bit of that new car smell.

You have six gears--totally fun.

You have cruise control!

...You're actually a pretty decent little car.

There are still parts of you that are unpredictable. And noisy. But we are starting to create some memories, you and I. And I think I find myself enjoying you.

341/365

We have landed in Victoria! After getting the rental vehicles sorted and organized, we thought it would be nice to stop for a late lunch and tour of The Butchart Gardens before embarking on the two-hour drive to our condo in Qualicum.

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!

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.

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.

*accessible

161/365

The long journey home...

123/365

Long overdue for some Saskatchewan love. T-minus 24 hours.

Sunny Summer Weekend AND 20/365

It has been a strange summer, weather-wise, in Alberta. Really, it's been a strange year, weather-wise. A lot more 'wet' than we are used to, primarily. As well, we have not had a good, solid stretch of heat this summer at all. While we normally get a straight week or two at 30-35C (85-95F), we seem to have topped out at around 25C (75F), and generally never longer than a three-day stint of such before it cools off again (often with rain involved).

I'm not complaining. 25C and sunny is great! Plus, the amount of rain has meant that I haven't had to water my lawn, and I haven't run out of water in the rain barrel for my garden. And the fluctuation between warmer and cooler days has kept my house comfortable, too. Still, it's unusual. Us Albertans know what to expect out of summer, and we've been thrown some curve balls the last few years. This year was the wet curve ball, apparently.

After cooler weather this past week, the forecast for the weekend was gorgeous. Sunny skies all around! Those kinds of weekends send all manner of Albertans outdoors at the best of times; even more so this summer, it seems, as we try to take advantage of every warm ray, every minute of clear blue daylight, every remotely warm body of water, every summer-only activity. For myself, it was a girl's weekend at a friend's cottage. I don't think we could have chosen a better weekend!

Saturday started with breakfast outside, followed by a trip into town to check out the local farmer's market. I supported the Alberta economy with the purchase of a bottle of honey mead. Then, because it was hot and sunny, and because we were in a small town, a trip to the local ice cream shop was in order ("this is lunch"). Delish. With ice cream in hand, we meandered to the edge of town, enjoying the prairie along the edge of the highway.

As we returned to the cottage in the late afternoon, we started unfolding plans for the rest of the evening: a card game, a camp fire, marshmallows, chocolate, and tasty drinks. Does it get any better than that!? ...Yes, yes it does.

 

I popped away from the camp fire briefly to capture the golden prairie sunset--whenever possible, I always try to capture at least one sunset when I am camping, traveling, or am otherwise vay-cay-ing away from home. The draw of the red-orange light is hard to resist.

Later that evening, after the sun was long gone--and I don't know what prompted it--we found ourselves laying in the lane in front of the cottage property, gazing up at the stars. We don't see much more than the Big Dipper in the city, and we found ourselves a bit awash in awe: "...so expansive..." "Some of these stars don't even exist by the time we see them." "...Hands which flung stars into space...." "I feel small. ...In a good way."

A warm sunny day and a cozy summer evening. We all slept well that night.

Home Again, Home Again OR 7/365

Cellular Journey

So I just recently came back from a two week, well-deserved holiday in Florida and the Caribbean. Not only did I take a vacation physically, I think my brain took a vacation, too, because in the space of two weeks, I misplaced my purse, lost my cell phone, and missed my connecting flight home.

But it's the cell phone I want to reflect upon. I had an overnight layover during my trip, and used my cell phone as an alarm to wake me up for the early flight. No problem. When I got on the airplane, I thought, "I should turn my cell phone off." I reached into my purse to grab it, and... nothing there. I emptied the entire contents of my purse on the seat beside me and emptied individual pockets of my backpack. The phone was gone. Somewhere between waking up and boarding the airplane, I either set it down and didn't pick it up again, or it fell out of a pocket onto the streets of Toronto.

The lost phone was not really a big deal while I was on vacation. I had already spent a week in Florida without using it, and I knew I wouldn't have service in Turks and Caicos. I suspended the account online when I arrived in T&C, and didn't think twice about it for the rest of the week.

...I use multiple methods of communication, but it's really struck me this week where I specifically prefer to have my cell phone. As I mentioned, I missed my connecting flight home. My cell phone is my most reliable alarm when traveling. If I'd had it, I may not have slept in and missed the flight. And because I missed my flight, I needed to contact the friends picking me up, as well as my mom, whose house I was headed to once I'd landed. Texting would have been free. And while I'm not sure long distance on my cell would have cost any less than the payphone I ended up using, it just... would have been nicer to use my own phone. I could have sat down, for instance.

And not to mention the regular texts I was no longer able to send to friends. It surprised me on how many occasions I found myself saying, “guess I will have to tell them about that later” because I couldn’t just text in-the-moment about the cool song I found myself listening to, or the random thought I had, or that thing I just saw that reminded me of a particular person.

I arrived home Easter Sunday, and thankfully had the Monday off to sleep in and gather myself before heading back to my normal routine. Early in the evening I decided I should do groceries so I wouldn't be trying to rush around to do them later. It was a nice sunny day, so I grabbed my shoes, grabbed my purse, and was out the door. As soon as I'd pulled it shut, my brain (which was apparently still on vacation) realized that the keys to both my car and my house were still in the house. I had just locked myself out of my house. And because I'd been on vacation, I had removed the hide-a-key from its spot outside. So it was in the house, too. Neither neighbour had a spare key from the previous owner.

Then I remembered that the guy who’s keeping his car in my garage has a key—yes! I’ll just call him; but… shoot, I don’t know his phone number. His number’s in my cell phone... which I don’t have anyway. Fortunately, I remembered his wife’s cell number and called her from the neighbour’s phone. It was yet another reminder of how much I take access to my cell phone for granted.

Not wanting to shell out for a new phone, I opted to see if anyone had an old one kicking around that I could take off their hands. One of my friends let me know right away that she had a spare, and I picked it up from her right away. I started deleting her old contact list, and personalized the screen display and ring tones. I lifted the suspension of my phone service so that I could swap the number to her phone. In the end, though, I couldn’t transfer the number (note to self: Bell phones cannot become Telus phones).

I went to suspend the account again until I could get another phone. But apparently you can’t suspend your number more than once in 30 days. Great. Now my phone was active and could be utilized if anyone had found it. I decided to call my number. If it went straight to voice mail, I’d know the battery was dead and that phone was not in use. Sure enough, the phone went to voice mail, but in conjunction with relief, as I heard myself say, “Hi, you’ve reached Gina…” I suddenly missed my phone. I got an image of it in my head lying at a curb somewhere, unnoticed as it vibrated, as if to say, “find me! Find me!” I suddenly just wanted my phone, with my contact list, and my pictures, and my ring tones. The phone I could already navigate through. The phone I knew.

The next morning, I remembered that my respite family had gotten an iPhone before we all went to Disney, which meant—in theory—that they had a spare phone. And previously we had had the same cell phones. Sure enough, they had an extra. The back cover that holds the battery in didn’t stay very well, but I could have it if I wanted. I picked it up as soon as I could.

Today at lunch I successfully swapped the number over to my ‘new’ phone. I taped the back cover on. I re-created my contact list. And I texted my friends. ...Could I survive without a cell phone? Certainly. ...Do I want to? No, thanks. :)

Sunny San Francisco!

Last weekend, I was able to take a couple days off work and spend some time with a friend for an extra long weekend in San Francisco and the surrounding area. I cannot even describe how wonderful this little getaway was!

CR and I arrived on Thursday around lunch time. We had a permanent grin on our faces from the time the plane touched down, I think! Thursday was quite windy--gusts of over 50mph (80km/h); coming off the ocean, that breeze was quite crisp! Nevertheless, we traipsed through a bit of downtown SF that afternoon and evening. After an 80-minute bus ride, and going up and down hills through a sketchier part of SF, we were rewarded with delicious burgers at Sliders. Here you could build your own burgers. We started with the Avocado Cheeseburger and went from there. And we had strawberry milkshakes.

After satisfying our stomachs, we satisfied our eyes by arriving at Alamo Square--home to 360 degrees of horizon city-scape bliss! Part of this city-scape included the Painted Ladies row of houses, which, after seeing on TV all the time growing up (Full House), was such a delight to see! We took in the sunset at this sweet little green space before heading back to the hotel for deep sleep.

Friday was a full day. We took the rapid transit into SF, and started by checking out the piers. We ensured a visit to Pier 39, and took in all the shops and sights. Alcatraz, the sea lions, and lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe were probably the highlights!

After lunch, we made our way over to Lombard Street; renowned for it's zig-zag road through part of it. Lombard Street was something else! These were the steep hills we thought we had mentally prepared for. We definitely stopped to rest more frequently than initially anticipated, I think. On the plus side, this afforded many great picture opportunities along the way, including wild parrots!

We continued down Lombard Street a ways and then caught the bus to the Golden Gate Bridge. You can't visit San Francisco and not see the Golden Gate Bridge! We also decided that visiting a beach near the bridge sounded good. 2km from the bridge, along a meadow-like path (with a constant view of the water), we arrived at Baker Beach. Oh, how wonderful the hot sand felt on tired, achy feet! ...We did make a point of stepping into the ocean (cold!), and taking more pictures. We also learned the hard way that the northern part of the beach is clothing-optional. This made for a brief awkward period as we deliberated as to if and how we wanted to keep going. We decided to head down to the more all-ages end of the beach instead.

After sitting on the shore for a bit and just taking in the sun and the warmth, it was time to head back onto a bus and visit a friend I hadn't seen in years. My friend BV just completed her Masters of Illustration at the Academy of Art, and took us to the California Pizza Kitchen for supper. Afterwards, we meandered through Chinatown back to her apartment, where we just chilled and chatted for a couple hours. It was so good to catch up with her!

There was not a dull moment as we traipsed through San Francisco. The city is geographically engaging, demographically dynamic, and aesthetically gorgeous. ...Throw in the sunshine and palm trees; how can you go wrong?

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.

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.

Realizing Home

Hard to believe, but I am about half way through my summer vacation time already. Already! It has been a blast so far, and I don't doubt that the rest of the summer will be just as wonderful.

Most recently, I just returned from a week-long trip to Nova Scotia to see C&Lorie (and K!). I hadn't seen them in about a year, and was way excited to go back to the East coast, which I hadn't visited since 2005 when they got married.

The trip was wonderful. Nova Scotia is a beautiful province. A completely different beautiful than Alberta. NS isn't even remotely like Alberta, except that both provinces are in Canada. NS is almost entirely trees. Lush green rolling hills wherever you look (and because of the humidity, it all smells so good!). All the trees, and the small size of the province in general, allow for a really 'cozy' feeling. There are no long streets or avenues of cookie-cutter houses and neighbourhoods. Heck, there are no long streets or avenues, period. All the roads wind and curve in all directions. Houses sit nestled into the sides of hills, as well as along shorelines. Small towns are all the rage. Very picturesque. Cozy.

I enjoyed all of it so much that I was surprised to find that, nearing the end of the week, I was craving a little more openness. I wasn't feeling claustrophobic, per se, but I was realizing how Albertan I was. Having lived in Alberta my entire life, this makes sense, but I was nevertheless taken a bit by surprise to realize that by about Thursday, I was starting to crave 'the familiar' in a manner akin to that of when I was in Haiti.

I found it frustrating to not know whether the clouds were coming or going. In Edmonton, the weather travels consistently west to east (actually, slightly diagonally across the city--more like NW to SE). I can look west and see what's coming. In NS, everything moves around in circles up and down the coast line. I couldn't figure it out. Add to that the fact that I couldn't tell if I was facing north or south half the time, unless it was evening and the sun was setting. And despite the beauty of all the surrounding trees, the sky just felt a bit smaller. Horizon? What horizon? I just wanted to stand up on a roof somewhere and be able to look out over things. Cozy was getting too cozy.

THEN we went to the beach. L took me to her grandparents' cottage at Heather's Beach, up on the north shore of NS near Pugwash. On a clear day, you can look out across the water and see PEI. This was by far the best part of my trip.

First of all, I knew where I was. The cottage was atop a cliff that looked out over the water--north, east, south, west were all very easy to find. How reassuring just to be able to place myself! The sky immediately opened up on the higher ground, and it just felt so much better!

Still, had the cottage been nestled in the trees somewhere, away from any sort of directional indicators, this still would have been the best part of the trip. As I mentioned, it was SO good to be able to see C&L again. The whole week had reminded me of this. Lorie and I spent a lot of time driving, which allowed for the ability to catch up through conversation on the last year. On the Wednesday, I participated in C&L's kung fu lesson--as I had done some of these lessons a few years ago when they led them at their house in Edmonton, it brought back some fond memories. On Thursday, we went to the new Harry Potter movie.

When we were at the cottage, the cards were brought out in the evenings, and everyone grabbed their drink of choice, and we played. And I realized how much I had missed that aspect of my social life. For five years I had known that it was pretty much a guarantee that C&L would be up for hanging out on Saturday nights, and this almost always involved card games. For the last year, that social option hasn't been there.

While there are many things that I can do with all my friends, I have found that there are always a few select activities that are more or less specific to certain friendships. For example, Grey's nights. Those are with JM and/or JP and/or SC. I can totally watch Grey's with other friends, but it just wouldn't be the same.

So it was the cards on the Friday and Saturday night... along with the back-and-forth banter... and the laughter... and the one crazy story we hadn't heard yet (plus the stories we'd heard and laughed about 100 times)... and that Nova Scotian atmosphere... that reminded me of the unique aspects of this friendship that I had missed. I had traveled clear across the country, and it was still like being home.

And.... cue summer!

Today was the last day of work for the summer. Well, last day of 'real' work. Similar to last year, I will be doing respite care throughout July and part of August, which is technically work cuz I'm getting paid. But it's much more laid back, and much more flexible hours. It's the perfect way to still have some income during the summer and be able to maximize the fun!

I have a packed summer ahead of me! When I tell people what I'm going to be up to, their brows furrow and they generally comment, "ooh--that sounds busy." But I don't see it that way. I think of each adventure I'm going to be engaging in, and I just see relaxation and fun; a change of pace! In the next eight weeks, I will be:

1. Backpacking up Mt. Robson, BC
2. Hanging out with C&Lorie in Nova Scotia
3. Cushy-camping in Kananaskis with part of my respite family.
4. Camping in Cadomin (near Jasper), which has turned into a stomping ground of sorts, as it will be the third year in a row at this wonderfully peaceful area.
5. Still pending--road tripping to Seattle.

And during the week, most of my afternoons will be open for lazy River Valley bike rides, naps in the sun, and other such peaceful activities. Ready or not, summer, here I come!

Resurfacing

Wow, I just realized that I haven't made a post in for-EV-er! ...Kinda went to Haiti. I then came back and pretty much hit the ground running, while still digesting the Haiti trip on the side.

Haiti was good. Really good. There were children, it was warm, I slept well, I ate well. Since I've been back, well, there are still children, but it's been cold, my sleep is off, and I have to cook for myself. Still, it has been really good to be home. It is interesting how we create new and different experiences for ourselves, only to crave what is familiar; what is 'home', in all senses of the word. Boy does a trip to a foreign country (that's not a resort) remind you of the things and people you appreciate most at home! And every little thing, too! I mean, there's the obvious stuff I missed, like having consistent and reliable internet access. But then there were things I didn't realize where such a salient part of my life. Like eating yogurt. At home I have yogurt almost daily, and halfway through my trip, we were taken to the grocery store, and there it was, and I was like, "yogurt!" because I realized I hadn't eaten it in a week!

I also realized how much I take my freedom for granted. If I am in the mood for a walk or bike ride, I just get my shoes on and go. Unless it's after dark, I don't generally think twice about it (I also don't purposefully walk or bike in sketchy areas of Edmonton). In Haiti, it's all sketchy. Especially because I was the minority. Therefore, we were not allowed to walk anywhere by ourselves, even if it was daylight. Understandable. But quite frustrating at times to not be able to just 'get away' from everything. The first Saturday I was home was actually really warm and sunny, so I got on my bike and meandered through the River Valley. It was SO nice.

My sleep patterns are definitely something I appreciated more in Haiti than here. The sun sets at around 6:15pm in Haiti. By 7pm it is completely dark. And DARK cuz there were no streetlights where we were. Our whole team was typically in bed between 8 and 8:30, and asleep by 9pm. I was no exception. And we were all up by 5:30, give or take. It was never a problem for me to rise at that hour (the sun was well up by then). I was never exhausted. Occasionally I would get up in the night to use the bathroom and it would take a little while for me to fall back asleep, and closer to the end of our trip, I noticed my body shifting to a slightly later and later sleep time, but overall, I slept excellently. Eight to nine hours every night. Several factors MAY have helped this. 1. It's dark and there's nothing else to do; might as well read a little and then go to sleep. 2. I wore ear plugs (which didn't eliminate the rooster and dog and gecko noises, but helped). 3. I took a melatonin before bed most nights to maintain the new rhythm. Still, it just seemed really easy to go to bed and to get up.

Here, it's all I can do to drag myself out of bed at 7am, and I'm not even in bed until 11pm. Generally not asleep till closer to midnight. Which isn't really all that different from before I went to Haiti, but now I don't like it so much. Yet, I don't exactly want to be in bed at 8:30 here, either. Life is still happening at 8:30, and not just because it's summer and therefore light out until 11pm now. I dunno. The expectations of my evening routine in a society that doesn't start to quiet down 'till at least 9pm, and the extended daylight (which I love) has been the only cultural readjustment I've had to deal with it, so I guess it could be worse. Mind you, it has been something I've pondered over off and on since my return. Do I like the way I prioritize my evenings? What do I want more of for myself with my free time and my sleep time? Can I balance my desire to slow down a bit earlier with the desire to be social and continue my extracurricular activities, which I love just as much? ...I'll let you know what I find out.

In the meantime, I should go take a melatonin.

T Minus 6 Days!

Exactly one week from now, I will be in Haiti, getting ready to play with and care for a lot of little children! I have spent much of the last several days packing, organizing, and trying to figure out what needs doing before I leave and what can wait 'till I get back!

I took my malaria pills this morning. The list of side effects was unreal. There was your standard nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, cramps, etc., and then the "rare but serious" side effects that warrant immediate medical attention, like seizures, mood disturbances, reduced red blood cells, fainting... so far, I am purple and have three heads, what does that mean? ;)