test blog 5

"I find it really difficult to ask for help." I've heard many people say this. I don't know if I ever said this myself, but as a teen and then young adult, I definitely tried never to ask for help, and seldom would allow myself to accept any. When I needed help of any kind -- physical, financial, emotional -- I would feel uncomfortable and deeply indebted, for relatively small actions. In New York City, where, like millions of New Yorkers, I didn't own a car, if someone gave me a ride home, I would thank them profusely. Years later, living in Mississauga, I offered people rides home all the time, and realized it was not that big a deal. The same goes for being asked to stay for dinner, or being offered a cup of tea or a glass of wine in someone's home. A simple act of friendship or kindness, especially from someone I didn't know very well, seemed like Such A Big Deal. This is certainly one area where our world makes it more difficult for men. Asking for he...

Cookie does not, will not, come when called. She is just not interested. At mealtimes, "wanna eat?" will bring her running. And if she's in the backyard or on the deck, the sound of the clicker and the treat jar will usually work. But at the beach, she has no intention of coming back to us. We've done the high-value treats, we've done... everything. The beach is simply too wonderful to leave. I am Cookie, and I answer to no one. Last year, on a wet, cold day, I was waiting outside the library for Allan to pick me up. He was late. I knew he had taken the dogs to the beach in the morning, and knowing he soon had to clock in to his own work, I thought he forgot about me. When Allan showed up, I learned that Cookie was still at the beach! It was getting late, he knew I was waiting, didn't have his phone with him -- so he left (with Kai)! Now he was going to head back to the beach to get Cookie. I was worried and scared! But a few minutes later, Allan and Cookie ca...

It's been a while since I updated wmtc readers on the continuing adventures of Cookie and Kai. Short version: they are doing great. They are healthy, happy, and a constant source of entertainment, not to mention love and affection. But when it comes to dogs, who wants a short version? The great escape. Cookie has matured and settled in -- but she is still a wild child, and very independent. I have to lock my closet door, and if I forget she will find a shoe to use as a chew toy. Now that she knows she'll earn a treat for coming inside, she stands on the deck and waits for me to put my hand on the treat jar before trotting in. She's that kind of girl. You may recall that shortly after we moved in, we discovered that (a) the backyard fence wasn't very good  and (b) Cookie was an escape artist. When she first let herself in , we thought it was so cute and funny. But when we forgot to lock the front door and she let herself out , not so much. So we have a beautiful new fe...

For the second year in a row, I didn't even bother with the wmtc i hate christmas tradition. I didn't see any shopping fervor, didn't hear or see an onslaught of ads. (Hooray for streaming!) We put up holiday lights, enjoyed two days off (hooray for vestiges of colonialism!), and "the season" passed quietly. I can't bring myself to say Merry Christmas,  but if anybody minds my "happy holidays," they don't show it. New Year's Eve was even quieter. I did the whole look-back thing in late November and early December, as we passed all the one-year marks of our move west and huge lifestyle change.  One bit of small-town and remote North Island life did bother me during the holiday season: all the restaurants are closed, and there's no prepared food to buy. If you want to spend a few days holed up at home, you have to plan ahead and cook. I did... but I would have liked a break. This is the price we pay for living in Port Hardy. It's a gr...

It's November. Here at the northern tip of Vancouver Island, the days are getting mighty short. It's not cold -- most days still reach 9 or 10 C -- but the gray sky and low sun feel like winter. This time last year, everything was happening. I was buzzing with nervous energy -- making lists, organizing the cross-country move, preparing to leave my job, preparing to leave my life and start anew. Now, I feel a tremendous sense of calm and contentment. Next week begins all the "one year since". One year since we left our jobs, began driving from Ontario to BC, one year since moved into the rental house, began our new jobs and our new lives. One year since we stepped off a cliff into the unknown. Nothing is ever 100%. There's no such thing in life. I accept that and like to acknowledge it without regret. I miss people. I miss the unique joy and energy I found working with an incredible union team and what we accomplished together. We lost Diego, and -- since we adopte...

It's been a while. 1. Mom went home. My mom went home two weeks ago, after spending seven weeks here. I was sad to see her go! We had a great time, and it got better as we went along and settled into a routine. The dogs must especially miss her. They loved to hang out in her room, and she adored them. 2. I took union training. I was in Nanaimo this week, participating in some training with my union, the BCGEU. I had three days of courses, plus a full day of travel each way, so I was gone for the whole work week. My workplace has an interesting union model. All the frontline staff are members of CUPE, and the professional staff -- librarians, senior librarians, and library managers -- belong to the BCGEU. This means I'm the only BCGEU member in all five of my libraries. However, there are BCGEU members in many other workplaces in my area. It's a very diverse union that represents social workers, administrative staff, BC Liquor and BC Cannabis workers, correctional officers, ...

As we enter the last week of my mother's extended visit, we took one last day trip, out to Grant Bay, on the west coast. As I've mentioned, there are no paved roads to the Pacific coast in the North Island. In fact, only two roads on the whole island go to the Pacific coast. In the North, the west coast is only accessible either by backcountry hiking or on logging roads to a few isolated beaches. We've been to San Josef Bay (Sanjo) several times, and I'm sure we'll go again, but we were very curious about Grant Bay. We heard it was a smaller version of Sanjo. This turned out to be true. We also heard that the beach was a five-minute walk from where you park. This turned out to be false. It's quite a bit longer, but not so long as to be prohibitive. So first there's the long, slow, bumpy drive on the logging roads -- about 2.5 hours, a bit closer than Sanjo. Then there's a short hike through a lovely bit of rainforest. Not knowing what we'd find, we ...