One of the "perks" of my current job is that I get to travel, occasionally.  Nothing exotic, all provincial, but nevertheless, it's fun to interact with people in different contexts, and I also find that when spending time with my colleagues outside the office (e.g. at dinner near the hotel, etc.), I gain a better understanding of different pieces of the collective work we do. 

Plus, it's always great to be in the milieu of the various airports across the province, and see big planes up close!! 

That being said, there are times when the novelty wears off...

Work-Life Balance

A challenge when booking flights at the end of a day in the field is finding the balance of early enough to still get home to tuck the kids in (many of our locations are less than two hours away by plane) and late enough to allow for a sense of availability to the people we serve in the regions (i.e. not appearing to be desperately rushing to the airport to get out of there!)

On a recent trip to Sudbury, my colleagues and I took different approaches to this game:  Our "day" ended at 3:15, and the airport was a good half hour drive from the venue.  Nevertheless, some folks booked themselves onto the 4:05 p.m. Porter, thinking they would just compress lunch and leave the site early to get to the airport on time.

Others booked a 5:30 p.m. Air Canada, knowing that if they left the venue promptly at the end of our session, they would still make it to the airport in time to clear security before boarding started.  Still others booked the more conservative 6:40 p.m. Westjet, wanting to take into account possible driving delays due to the weather north of Toronto.

​What ensued felt a little like the amazing race, to see who could get home first... or at all, as it turned out!

Flexibility

As the day unfolded, we began to recognize the need to end a bit early, in order to accommodate participants who had driven in from North of Sudbury.  As flurries began falling outside, news of icy roads and accidents on the highways began to make people nervous.

In collaboration with our participants, we modified our lunch and break plans,  and ended the day in time to allow people who were driving to get a healthy head start.

Hitching a ride with some colleagues who were booked on the 4:05 p.m. Porter flight, I, too, fled to the airport. I was hoping to get into an earlier flight if possible, but failing that, I was prepared to do some work in the waiting area, as I had brought my laptop with me.

But as we stepped out of my colleague's rental car at the terminal, we suspected our journey home would not be as quick as we were hoping for: It was super icy and slippery, and also extremely windy!

Weather, Weather, Weather

As a private pilot, I know how significant a role weather can play on whether and when an aircraft can land or depart.

Sure enough, not long after checking in, the delays began to be announced.  First it was my Westjet, delayed from 6:40 to 7:20 p.m.  Frustrating, but understandable.  Next, the people I had been having an early supper with at the airport restaurant noted that their Air Canada flight, too, had been delayed, though not as much as the 4-o-clock Porter, which had not even landed yet (it was 4:45 at this point).

When we went downstairs so that my 5:30 friends could deal themselves into the security line game, we found out that both the Porter and the Air Canada had been circling overhead, waiting for the winds to calm down and for the runway to be cleared and sanded, so that they could land safely.

As my colleagues worked their way through security, I wandered over to the window to watch the proceedings.  The Air Canada landed, passengers disembarked, and the aircraft was fueled up and prepared for a quick turnaround.  A few grateful colleagues and other passengers scrambled aboard, and the plane soon departed. 

The 4-o-clock Porter, meanwhile, had turned back to Toronto! (We knew before the announcement was made, as another colleague was set to arrive on that flight, as she had some business in Sudbury the next day.) Apparently the winds had been too high to land safely, and the aircraft was returning to CYTZ for a crew change; they'd try Sudbury again later that night, around 9 p.m.  (It was now just after 6!)

Winning the Lottery

As my Porter colleagues came streaming out of the post-security waiting room to get dinner and settle in for a long evening, I reflected on how lucky I had been to be booked on the Westjet.  No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, however, when a  voice over the airport loudspeaker announced that the Westjet flight had been canceled.

Canceled!  Not further delayed, but completely C-A-N-C-E-L-E-D!!!

I wanted to cry!

Wandering over to the ticket counter, I ran into some other colleagues who had also been booked into that flight; they were just arriving at the airport, and thought I was joking when I greeted them with the news that their trip here had been in vain.

Another Night in Sudbury

The group of us got into the ticket counter line; a Westjet agent printed boarding passes for the 6 a.m. flight the next morning, and sent us on our way.

Back into a cab we climbed (this new group of colleagues were gracious enough to add me to their number), and back towards the hotel we had so recently left.

Happily, the hotel was able to accommodate us, and by a little after 8 p.m., we were tucked into our rooms for another night away from home.  I was pretty tired, so after logging into my work email to rearrange some morning meetings I'd no longer be able to attend in person, I crawled into bed, hoping for an early night (the alarm was set for 3:30 a.m., to make the 4 a.m. taxi back to the airport, and I wanted every second of sleep I could get!)

Alas, it seemed there was to be no rest for me: My room backed onto a church of some sort, and several large, deep bells rang loudly and distinctly every hour on the hour. 

When the church bells finally stopped at 10 p.m. (I guess the parish had determined that even the most devout ought to be granted a few hours of uninterrupted silence each night to sleep), I gratefully set out to get every minute of the approximately five hours that stood between me and the 3:30 a.m. wake-up call. 

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

As luck would have it, I appeared to be in a room next door to a particularly amorous couple, who were eagerly vocalizing their late night enjoyment of one another in the adjoining room.  Reticent to bang on the door and interrupt their Sudbury hotel tryst, I stuffed some earplugs into my ears, and attempted to block out the strange sounds next door.  They were VERY loud, though, even with earplugs in, and I was enormously grateful when the more noisy one of the two seemed to have been depleted somewhere around midnight, and I could finally sleep...

... for an hour and a half!!!

Shortly after 2 a.m., my insatiable roommates started up again!

This time I did bang on the door between the rooms, and they seemed to have gotten the hint, because after some giggling, things quieted down, and I was able to squeeze in another 45 minutes or so of sleep.

The Light in the Darkness

Too early the next morning, I joined my colleagues in the lobby -- it appeared they had all had far less eventful nights, having found their rooms to be in a quieter part of the hotel -- and we eagerly piled into yet another taxi for yet another drive to the airport!

It was pitch black out, even by the time we arrive at the terminal.  But out of the darkness there arose a bright light, and that light was our aircraft, prepared for departure.

Our fatigue not withstanding, we took comfort in the knowledge that we would soon be on our way home.

The Grass is Always Greener

After forcing myself to stay awake for a morning of meetings which I attended virtually when I arrived home, I cashed in some lieu time in the afternoon, and slept.  Without church bells or noisy "personal" sounds to interrupt me, I felt the luxury of a good chunk of sleep.

The following week, I shared my tale of woe with anyone who would listen and feel sorry for me; after all, even the delayed folks had gotten to go home the same night, albeit much later than anticipated.  And the others who had stayed had not been auditorily traumatized as had I!

But I soon met my match: A gal who had come off the twice delayed Porter aircraft that same night for an even the next day had ended up in the same hotel where I had stayed -- but she'd been assigned the wrong room by the not-so -helpful reception staff, and when she opened the door to her room upon arrival late that night, someone was already sleeping in the bed!!!

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In the not-so-amazing race, it's not only time that counts, but also quality of delay.  Many points can be awarded for a wide variety of unique and exiting circumstances, keeping the work-travel game interesting and full of adventure, no matter when you may land or how mundane your travel destination may originally appear.

Lucky me!

Not only did I get to learn how to fly airplanes, but I got to learn at one of the most amazing airports in the world, City Centre.

As its name suggests, City Centre or CYTZ, is pretty much in the centre of the city of Toronto. Actually, more accurately, it's right in the centre of the city's waterfront.

That means, whether landing or departing, you always have the CN Tower, SkyDome, and other well known bits of the Toronto skyline in sight.

It also means getting to fly circuits along the edges of the Toronto Islands, one of my favourite places to be on the ground in this lakefront city that I call home.

I've romped around the beaches and paths of these islands since I was a toddler. But flying overhead gives one a new perspective, and every time I'm on downwind looking out the window when I should be doing my downwind checks, I fall in love with this richly historied urban treasure all over again, and I'm never quite sure whether I love it more from the ground or from the sky above!

Soon enough, though, I'm turning on base, and depending on whether it's runway 08 or 26, I've got a new set of landmarks to focus on: Ontario Place and the new Trillium Park on the one hand, and the ferry docks and Toronto harbour on the other, take centre stage as I reduce power, put down my flaps, and get ready to turn final.

It's kind of amazing, actually, that these old tin cans from the 60s and 70s even fly at all (I remember early on in my flight training, noticing a piece of what looked to be duct tape holding a bit of the empennage together; I was assured by my flight instructor that this was completely safe) -- indeed, the inner panel of these old 150s and 172's look more like something from an antique roadshow than modern machinery that can effectively defy gravity!

But somehow they do fly (even when imperfectly piloted). And soon I'm on short final, fiddling with attitude and airspeed to get just the right profile for the round out, flare and touchdown.

I know there are many amazing places to fly in the world, and the life of a pilot is the life of someone who constantly sees new landscapes. Nevertheless, for flying circuits, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a cooler spot to fly than city centre airport in Toronto, Ontario!

Flying commercially has presented a special thrill for as long as I can remember.

Everything from the view while boarding the aircraft, to the take off roll, to the spectacular cloud porn out the window at altitude gives me a feeling of excitement.

We finally got around to visiting the newly developed Trillium park and William G Davis waterfront trail, just east of Ontario Place. Apart from being an awesome place to watch aircraft departing CYTZ runway 26, it's also a wonderful spot just to enjoy the great outdoors!

One of the most impressive structures to me is a large pavilion, constructed with soaring roof lines and lots of wood.

There is also a geocache, and a pretty nifty rock wall and climbing feature; when we returned the next weekend with the kids, they climbed forever. Even the dog liked it, getting right into the little "cave"!

The first Sunday afternoon we went there, the weather was quite stormy, creating a magnificent backdrop for the city skyline.

In between watching planes land and take off, we marvelled at the light, and were able to get some great shots of the late afternoon sky.

Another thing I noticed throughout the park, which I did not take photos of, was the incorporation of various indigenous features, such as a number of "marker trees" and plaques explaining their significance, and some moccasins carved into the stonework near the entrance of the park.

If you walk further west along the path, you come to the old Ontario Place grounds, which we walked into the second time we went to the park. There are remnants of the old park in its former glory; you can see the Cinesphere and leftovers from the old water park.

​You might think that in a lesbian family, Mothers' Day is kind of a big deal.  Two moms, right?! But having come out later in life, I never got to experience first-hand that lovely, two-mom relationship I often admire with some envy when I come across a young family lead by two women.

My co-parent didn't arrive on the scene until my kids -- who still have a regular relationship with their dad -- were 6 years old. (They're 13 now!)  

​And although they often joke that she is the best "Second Mother" (not "second best", they explain) around, and even tell her that she is the only step-mom they have ("no questions asked", as one kid affirmed in writing in his mothers' day card to her this morning), she is, still, after all, "just" a step-parent, with all the self-imposed guilt and other emotional drama that entails.

In terms of my relationship with my own mother, that also comprises its fair share of emotional drama: Orphaned at 21, I don't have any instagram-worthy photos to share of my beautiful adult relationship with my mother, because I don't have one. 

So I'll spend today's blog post instead sharing my reflections about some observations I had the unique opportunity to make this weekend, while attending a Girls CAN Fly event at a nearby airport.

Canadian Aviation Pride, an organization I volunteer with, had been asked to set up a booth in the hangar.

We did our usual assortment of pre-made rainbow airplane necklaces to sell, and also set out other beads so that kids and their families could make their own necklaces, rainbow or otherwise, before or after their flight. This afforded me the opportunity to observe how families would "help" especially their youngest children with a self-chosen task.

With so many colourful beads on display, most children wanted to string their own necklaces, and it was remarkable how many parents simply could not let their 3-, 4- and 5-year-olds do the fine motor practice until they worked it out.  Each necklace included a chain and 6 beads, and barely a child got to the third bead before a well-meaning parent took over the task and just did it for them.

The first steps to the learned helplessness I witnessed so very often in my middle school classrooms!

Watching a child struggle with a task is hard, no question, but with encouragement and time, most children can complete many "difficult" tasks on their own or with limited support, and the research shows that it is actually good for them to engage in this struggle.  

The other thing that amazed me was how many of the parents basically vetoed their kids' choices of bead colour, style and placement in order to make the necklace as they (the parent) thought it ought to be, rather than how the child herself envisioned it.  I kid you not, I witnessed one parent keep telling his kid to choose different beads than she was choosing, because that would "look better", and watched in amazement while another dad fully removed four of his daughter's six beads, and replace them with different ones, to make a pattern he thought looked better!

It's easy to watch and judge, of course, and so I spent the rest of the weekend pondering my own influences on my kids... of course I want to guide them and expose them to things I deem "valuable", but am I making sure to honour their individual choices as well, even if they differ from my own?

Working so much with the Kindergarten Program this year in my new job, I am well familiar with how important it is for teachers to support students' development of their own identities as learners.  I wonder how well I have done with this as a parent?  I am determined to renew my commitment to developing my own children's resilience, strength and confidence!

I haven't flown as much as I'd like to since earning my PPL a few years back, largely due to financial restrictions (it's not a cheap hobby, flying, especially in Toronto!), but recently an old friend was bringing his new beau into town, and wanted us to take them flying.

Someone else footing the bill is the kind of flight that works for me, so off we went for a local east and city tour.

The beau, it turned out, wanted a chance to try his hands at the controls, so he rode left seat while Tats played PIC, and I squished into the back seat of the old 172 we had rented, along with our friend.  

Although I enjoy flying, it is also nice to just sit back and enjoy the flight, especially when one hasn't flown in a while.  Flying hands off the controls also afforded me a rare opportunity to take some actual photos while flying, rather than having to focus on maneuvering the plane.

One of the many things I love about flying out of CYTZ is that the airport is shared with mid-size commercial operations.  Seeing Porter's Dash 8s up close is always exciting, and this time I got to photograph an aircraft taxiing pretty much right in beside us as it came of Taxiway Foxtrot after landing on Runway 26, the same runway we were preparing to take off from....

As we completed our pre take-off checks and approached the hold short line for 26, another Cessna was just coming in for a landing.  Again, having no flight responsibilities myself this flight allowed me to snag a rare close-up from my perch in the back seat of our own aircraft, of the company traffic on short, short final, just before that aircraft's flare!

Soon we ourselves were on the roll, and our new pilot-in-training (under the guidance and watchful eye of our PIC) did the take-off while that familiar feeling of "wow, I'm actually flying" hit me.

As we turned crosswind, I pointed out the naked beach (which -- with the sudden arrival of the crisp fall weather -- was itself now naked), and then we turned downwind to enjoy a breathtaking view of the fall foliage on the island, with the spectacular Toronto skyline as its backdrop.

As the boys wanted to fly out to the east end of the city a little and enjoy the areal view of the Bluffs and Frenchmens' Bay, we did that, and then returned for a touristy but-it-never-gets-tired city tour, circling the tower while the passengers snapped photo after photo from our vantage point in the sky.

An interesting thing that happened was when we opened the window so our friends' beau -- who had with him a very professional looking camera -- could take some photos without the glare... I stuck my iPhone out the window, too (holding on tight!!) and snapped a few shots.  The wind, however, distorted things a little, and all my "outside shots" ended up with the wonky-looking sort of effect below, on the right!

It had been several months since I had seen the city from on high, and I really enjoyed our flight, even from (or perhaps especially from) the back seat.

Despite a slightly heavy load (with the exception of Tats, we were all pretty "bulky" people, and Tats had insisted on a 1/2 tank fuel restriction!), we made it back onto the runway in one piece. Back on the apron, we took the obligatory "we did it" group snapshot in front of our plane, then headed out to Queen West for dinner at the Beaver.

P.S. About the election, I will say that I played Clinton's concession speech for my kids, because I want them to see what taking the high road looks like, even in the face of such a devastating loss.  We had an excellent, mostly child-driven conversation about inclusion vs. exclusion, misogyny, fear, love, Trudeau and the importance of being an ally, especially during challenging times like these, and I highly recommend facilitating a conversation like this -- if you haven't already -- with the children in your life!

If you are a pilot and southern Ontario, it is customary, when flying to the Lindsay airport, to eat some of their famous butter tarts, and to pick up a few for the folks back home.

Having never flown to Lindsay myself, I decided to finally make the pilgrimage this past weekend, with my partner and kids.

In order to give one of the boys a chance to set up front in the Captain seat, I elected to sit in the back of the Cessna172 we'd rented for a few hours, with the other boy. It was an interesting vantage point; typically when I am flying or co-piloting, time for photos and reflection is understandably limited. Sitting in the backseat, with no navigational or pilot obligations allowed me to contemplate the southern Ontario landscape as we exited the CYT Z control zone, and flew east along the shoreline and then north over Lake Scugog to Lindsay.

Once on the ground and Lindsey, we hurried to the restaurant to get our take-out butter tarts, so that we could hop back in the plane and get back to Toronto on time. We needn't have rushed; our flight plan was shot to hell by the fact that another pilot, one who had landed just after us, had a flat tire, and needed to be towed off the runway!

While waiting, we devoured a few of the butter tarts not ear-marked for others, and the boys took a washroom break and worked their sillies out before making the trek back to the city.

Alex also got into the spirit of things, and helped Tats check the fuel before take off…

And then it was time to head back to CYTZ.

It was a beautiful day for flying, and we encountered a number of other small aircraft on the radio. Happily, everyone made good position reports, and we avoided any collisions!

Before too long, the familiar Toronto skyline came into view...

we woke up the children, who had fallen asleep, and Tatsy made a smooth landing (as always!) on runway 26.

The butter tarts were great, and so was the flight!

Decided to kick off pride month by celebrating last weekend with Canadian Aviation Pride's "Northern Escape" in Toronto.

Friday's festivities included an aviation themed art show featuring the work of photographer Laird Kay, at Akasha Art Projects on Church St.

​This was followed on Saturday with an aviation job fair and a cocktail reception at the 519. While Tats chatted up the HR folks at various airlines, I loaded up on swag for my students!

We opted to skip the late night at Woody's, and made it home to bed before midnight.

​This meant we were awake and alert enough to enjoy the next morning's brunch at the Hothouse Grille, along with a little Sunday jazz.

Then it was off to the airport to admire the two planes that had arrived on the island, flown in by members in the US for the "Queen of the Fleet" Competition. (Actually, the were three entries, but the third was a Falcon jet, and since jets are not permitted to land at CYTZ, they had to park their plane at Pearson instead!)

Both planes on the apron were very nice, and one even had a custom made banner swinging from its propeller! In the end, it was decided that everyone was a winner.

While the first group of boys went up for a tower tour, Tats and I said or goodbyes to some new friends, promising to investigate the possibility of flying to their Province town event in Sept.

Then we forewent our own tower tour and the aviation themed drag show that was to follow, and headed to the city's northern region, to attend another performance instead; one of our sons was participating in a dance recital!

After grabbing a quick bite with a friend on Albert's Real Jamaican on St Clair after the show, it was time to head home, walk the dog and face the fact that this thrilling weekend was  finally drawing to a close.