Category: - Vera Teschow.ca

PractiCe Makes Perfect

8/4/2019

I’ve been lucky enough over the past several weeks to find myself with enough time to devote daily sessions to practising not only my drums, but also rediscovering the xylophone (which I hauled with me to PEI, finally, and set up in my new music cabin here), and attending to the trombone, which I started playing last year, in order to be able to complement Alex (French Horn) and Simon (Trumpet).

As my practising has become more consistent, I have noticed a distinct pattern: Spending sufficient time on warm up exercises each and every time I practise, and playing for at least 20 minutes total, have both led to a noticeable improvement in my playing. I know I’m improving with the trombone, because I am now able to hit notes I could not reach a few weeks ago (this afternoon I finally played high F for the first time!!), and also because my teacher recently told me that my tone was “really coming along”. :-)

When working through Stick Control exercises at the kit, my double sticking feels much smoother than it did a month ago. A benefit derived from drumming regularly (at least three times a week now) and for a minimum duration of 20 minutes each time.

My xylophone skills are slowly but surely returning to the levels I was attaining in Grade 13 (yes I am that old!!) when I played Flight of the Bumble Bee for an exam. I know this because I have been working on Bach’s Violin Concerto in A Minor (First Movement), and am inching my way closer to my desired speed on the metronome, with considerable accuracy. Both my speed and accuracy are also improving with the Gallop Solo, which I still have memorized from some 30 years ago, and which I have also been practising, for fun!

Working in a focused fashion on “boring” warm up exercises for all three of my instruments, and repeating sections to perfect accuracy, speed or tone, is (re)teaching me valuable skills which I hope to transfer to my professional life once I return to work later this month and leave my music cabin behind for another year.

For more discussion on the benefits of different approaches to practising, check out this article (with link to other articles) I found online.

Engineering Opportunities for Girls in Aviation

7/22/2019

It was a grey, overcast morning. But COPA Flight 57 in Charlottetown, PEI was determined to host a successful COPA for Kids event, and so off to the airport I went, just as determined to make Canadian Aviation Pride’s maritime event debut a success as well!

Canadian Aviation Pride, or CAP for short, is a national organization of LGBTQ+ aviators engaged in not-for-profit work to unite, celebrate and promote diversity in the industry. We count flight attendants, air traffic controllers, aviation engineers and other aviators amongst our ranks, though the vast majority of our members are pilots. Most of our Board members are located in Vancouver or Toronto, and as a result, most of our events happen in these two cities, with more recent branching out to Montreal and a few western cities.

Being able to participate in an event in Eastern Canada was a really exciting opportunity for us, and I was pleased to represent CAP as the board donated 100 of our signature rainbow airplane necklaces and a bunch of other swag to hand out to the kids.

People sometimes ask why we volunteer at events like this, setting up a booth or table, and spending the day chatting with folks, some of whom can become mildly unpleasant or downright hostile when they discover we are a “gay” organization. The main reasons include promoting aviation as a fun and inclusive industry, so that young people, many of whom tend to be more open-minded than their elders, can see opportunities in an industry that sometimes has a reputation for homophobia, sexism and/or racism.

A big factor for us is to be models of what well-adjusted, “successful” professionals who happen to be queer might look like. This helps both LGBTQ+ youth to see themselves reflected in an exciting industry that we want them to consider, and their families, who may not yet know or may still be adjusting to the fact their their child is queer. It provides a standard for straight families to see what a gay person in aviation might look and sound like beyond a flamboyant pride parade. It also helps to normalize an often still stigmatized identity for queer families, those with two moms or two dads, etc. Lastly, it allows us to be open and visible for aviators who identify internally as LGBTQ+ but are not (yet) out themselves. We can be brave for others who are still gathering the courage to bring their whole selves to their work or hobbies.

As a queer woman, I have additional motives as well.

In Canada (and indeed throughout most of the world), flight decks comprise only about 6% women. While there are some exceptions (most notably, Porter Airlines in Toronto), most airlines are still holding steady at 6%, and this figure has been extremely slow to reach. So, I want to promote not only LGBTQ+ inclusion in aviation, but more specifically, WOMEN in aviation, queer or otherwise!

PEI is a particularly challenging environment for this work. The local flight club is made up almost exclusively of men, with wives and girlfriends being included only for things like administrative and other “helper” tasks. (The registration desk at this event was staffed entirely by women!)

And, critical as their organizational help was, I can’t help but struggle with the image this projects to the girls in attendance at such an event: All the pilots are men, and the women stay indoors and work at the desk.

The boys and their families also subconsciously adopt this image. Aviation is for boys and men.

So, as I chatted with the kids and their parents who visited our colourful booth, I made sure to talk about the fact that I, too, am a licensed pilot, and that my partner, a woman, works as a pilot for a commercial airline. This was an important message for the girls to hear, as well as their brothers, and their parents!

I was pleased to see that COPA had adopted a woman-aware approach as well, including a female aviator at the top of their banner. But I was shocked at how few girls were signed up to fly. The overwhelming majority of kids registered for a free flight were boys, and ALL the volunteer pilots were men.

Happily, as the grey skies cleared up, I got to help on the ramp, directing groups of kids to the planes for their free fam flight. This meant that I had a direct hand in working with each pilot to arrange who sat where.

You can be sure that I made certain that for every group I had with a girl in it, the girl got the right seat, up front, at the controls!!!

With 50 percent of the population still being grossly underrepresented in the cockpit and elsewhere in aviation, I feel like it’s my personal duty as a person of some periphery influence in the industry to not only expose girls to aviation, but to also engineer opportunities to make that exposure as meaningful as possible!

I’m happy to have had the opportunity to represent CAP in Prince Edward Island this summer. And while I am grateful to Flight 57 for including us, and for all the volunteer pilots who came out to ignite a passion for flying in the kids whose parents registered, I am also hopeful that as a result of meeting an actual email pilot and being able to spend 20 minutes at the controls of an airplane in flight, future years will include some female volunteer pilots on this still very traditional little island.

The Grumpy Professor’s Artist and Mathematician Nature Retreat

7/20/2019

My neighbour’s property is a little piece of heaven. His nearly 3-acre field bordered by forest/tree line on two sides lies across the road from my 1.74 acres on PEI’s north shore, a short walk from the harbour that is home to shallow waters and a gorgeous view towards the massive, parabolic dune of Greenwhich National Park.

A big big role for me this summer, apart from directly taking care of meal prep and tidying for said neighbour, has been to develop and manage his property.

The Grumpy Professor, as he’s referred to around these parts, is fairly open to ideas, mainly because he doesn’t really care all that much about the property, and is primarily interested in allowing the dog space to romp!

This has allowed me some freedom in my aforementioned development and management.

As I’ve been learning more about historical and current differences in how Indigenous Canadians and Canadians of Settler/Colonial descent view the concept of land “ownership”/use, I’ve been thinking a lot about whose land it all is, really, anyway. As a result, I have been finding opportunities to share “my” property and the one “owned” by our neighbour with others in ways that blends business and philosophy.

We have opened up both our properties to folks who want to camp here, either in their vehicles, their own tent, or one or more tents or small, rustic cabins we have set up on site.

This influx of guests has also allowed my neighbour to get out of his shell a little, and meet some interesting people of varying ages, from a wide range of backgrounds.

As the GP is a huge introvert, and really can live up to his nickname of “Grumpy Professor”, I worded any ads quite carefully to disseminate both the rustic, simple nature of the lodgings (priced accordingly) and the sometimes problematic nature of one of the hosts.

Such calls bring to bear either fellow introverts or mathematicians (the GP is a retired math professor), or folks intrigued by and interested in what we have to offer. Consequently, over the past 6 weeks, we have enjoyed learning about civil war re-enactments from a lone traveler who stayed — bundled in multiple sleeping bags — in Rick’s stargazing cabin in early May, we have delighted in reading the poems on the road of two gals traveling across Canada in their camper van, we have learned to play poker with two young American campers who also hauled wood for us and watered some trees in exchange for the use of our parks pass and wood of their own campfire, and we have enjoyed several communal meals with one or several groups of visitors.

We’ve also had a number of visitors who have just kept to themselves, parked on “our” land for the night on their way to Souris or some other place.

Observing a red fox meander across the front yard in the morning, or watching a great blue heron fly overhead to the nearby marsh in the afternoon serve as reminders that we share this land with a host of wildlife (beyond the horrid mosquitos... and even the dragonflies — who will eat their share of these small beasts — are starting to appear amidst the wildflowers).

Neither the rabbits in the back forest nor the robin whose nest (complete with three eggs!) is tucked in under the roof of the solar shelter near the front of Rick’s property pay any rent.

The struggle to reconcile what it means to “own” land vs to share it continues inside of me. On the one hand, who am I (or who is Rick) to decide who gets to use the property and when, and how much they should pay us for this privilege? On the other hand, having a well and outdoor shower installed costs money, as does the electricity to pay for the hot water bill. The composting toilet was not free to build and deliver to the back of the property, nor was the fire pit we had built, over which many of the people who stay cook some of their meals.

And so we ask for a nominal fee from those who stay, and invite cash tips or work exchange from those who feel compelled or are able to contribute more.

A lot of the proceeds (and then some!) are used to pay for the many trees Rick has been planting on his property. He is determined to contribute what he can to the betterment of the environment.

The two groups currently staying on Rick’s property have really jelled, and we are enjoying the opportunity to break bread together as we hear about their day’s adventures on this island that we call home for the summer. As an added bonus, my mother’s friend is here for a visit, and one of my boys has finally arrived!

It’s so lovely to have everyone together.

I relish my privacy and am very grateful for the privilege of home and land ownership. But I believe that the concept of “ownership” is problematic from an ethical perspective, and there are elements of this summer’s communal living experience that I wish I could enjoy year-round.

Spring on PEI

7/17/2019

A cold, wet July evening compels me to recall the not-so-distant spring here on PEI, one that I had the great privilege this year of watching unfold.

While I’ve visited the island in May before, it’s typically been only for a few days until my weeks-long return in the middle of summer, and so in the past, I’ve played more the tourist than an islander, with the opportunity of more leisurely watching the season unfold.

This year, however, that was different, and I got to witness the slow, steady evolution of cold, grey skies and red, freshly ploughed fields to blue, sunny (mostly) days and lush green potato (or wheat, or other crops) fields. I got to see hues of purple and shades of green I’d not seen before, as the lupin and other early summer flora slowly blossomed, reigned for a few weeks, and then began to fade and make space for other island wildflowers.

The colour transformation has been magical. A few photos follow, in no particular order.

Playing with Time

7/10/2019

You might wonder what Vera’s been up to this summer...

When my three months of working remotely while helping our neighbour set up his property on PEI turned into three months of unpaid leave while helping my neighbour, blah, blah, blah, I thought, “This is great; I’m going to have so much TIME!!!”

All too aware of how easily time can slip away, I set about making myself a strict schedule that would include a healthy balance of writing/blogging, studying (aviation, French and other reading), music practice and yoga, along with my agreed-to responsibilities of cooking and generally looking after my elderly neighbour, and taking care of his AirBnB guests. I had also built in some time to connect regularly with my kids, who were not coming out to PEI until later in the summer, and with whom I planned to read the Count of Monte Cristo via video conference twice a week. My colour-coded schedule was looking pretty balanced; I was impressed!

Within a month of my arrival, however, I became acutely aware that I may have failed to consider some of the challenges of country living and setting up a new build.

My twice-a-week writing time had failed to materialize, and even six weeks after driving across the bridge, I had done yoga a grand total of once!!

My daily to-do list looked more like this:

Chase contractors
Water trees
Water grass seed
Stress about why grass seed isn’t growing
Chase contractors some more
Drive to Canadian Tire, buy up some home shit
Give up on grass seed and call seven places looking for sod
Gasp at outrageous sod prices; drive to nursery and buy more grass seed (the fast growing blend)
Buy sod after all
Call grass cutters for help laying sod (it’s HEAVY!!!)
Realize I don’t have enough sod, and fill in the gaps with newly purchased, fast-growing (haha) grass seed
Water sod and seed
Water trees some more
Chase contractors again
Download full season of Switched at Birth
Drive to Canadian Tire, buy up some more household crap
Cook supper
Update AirBnB listings and respond to potential guests who have clearly not read through the entire listing
Binge watch five episodes of Switched at Birth until 2 am while shivering under four blankets with warm dog body in tent
Get up with the sunrise, marvel at sunrise, make breakfast for old man and Airbnb guests
Deal with plumber after Airbnb guests’ kids shove 3/4 roll of toilet paper down the crapper

And that doesn’t include all the bickering with the elderly neighbour I’m supposed to be helping (turns out he’s not only old and cranky, but also super slow and indecisive, so that minor things I had not even built into the schedule, like “would you like soup, or pasta, for lunch?” turn into 20 minute debates requiring examination from all sides). Choosing meals, restaurants, where and how to walk, and what goes into which recycling bin all takes a lot longer and has to be done more frequently than I expected.

Also, we ended up buying a manual push mower, so I added about 4-5 hours a week of manual grass cutting I had not planned for, as I am now cutting the back 1/4 acre of my neighbour’s property, which is good exercise but takes a lot longer and has to be done more frequently than I expected.

And then there is the dog... one of the main goals while out here has been to train our dog-aggressive rescue mutt. We are working with a highly regarded trainer, and it’s going well, but all the exercises and homework take a lot longer and have to be done more frequently than I expected.

You get the idea.

So needless to say, my brilliant schedule has not come to fruition. Instead, I’ve been blessed with an opportunity to learn about flexibility and boundaries.

A few of the unforeseen opportunities that have arisen: A week in, I got my criminal record check (in 24 hours; unheard of in the GTA!!) and was able to volunteer in a local school for a week. It was the first time I’d been in a classroom in two years.... AND the first time I’d been in a classroom where I was not in the cultural minority. It felt very strange to be surrounded by children who looked and sounded like me. But it was fun, and I appreciated learning what a classroom experience can be like in a rural school, since the vast majority of my own teaching career was fostered in urban and suburban settings.

I also got to participate in the inaugural lighthouse beach bonfire, to celebrate the lighting of the recently restored local lighthouse lamp!

And I have been volunteering at the local library (developing and facilitating a course on how to use instagram to connect with friends and family and promote your small business).

Finally, I have availed myself of the opportunity to take a few Argentinian tango lessons in town. Milonga!

Now that the dust has settled a bit, I’m learning to set boundaries by saying no to a few things in order to make space for the things I had hoped to achieve. As a result, my musical pursuits are going better: I’ve been playing my drums 3-5 times a week, I’ve had a few lessons with a trombonist in town and am actually practising more than five minutes a day, and recently, I began working on reclaiming and further developing my xylophone skills. (The xylophone was one of the larger items we stuffed into the van when we drove out here, and it’s now living in my music cabin along with my drums and an old trombone at the back of my neighbour’s property.)

The yoga plan has NOT yet come to fruition. But, I plan to attend a weekly beach yoga class at the lighthouse starting Tuesday night.

Reading the 1944 version of Stick and Rudder is helping me refamiliarize myself with flight theory and remember, too, how angry I get every time I read an aviation text; regardless of when it was written, it seems that the 21st Century has not yet hit the aviation publishing world, as everything is still about “he” when referring to pilots.

Very annoying and distracting. But at least I’m finally reading.

Duolingo tells me that I am on a three-day streak with French... and I plan to up my 5 minutes a day to 15. Soon. :)

Sitting out front of the music cabin, writing this blog post, I finally have time to consciously enjoy the beauty around me. I’ve been doing a bit of that mornings in the tent, when the bird and the sunshine wake me up around 5 a.m. and I lie around dozing for another few hours listening to the sounds of the breeze in the leaves, the twittering of the birds, the roll of the waves in the distance... but gazing out at the fields of lupin is a little more of what I had been hoping to do, and it’s nice to finally do so!

Soon my kids and partner are coming. I hope to have enough systems and routines in place by then and I can take some actual “time off“, and really just enjoy the island for a few weeks!!!

I’m amazed... shocked, really, by how quickly a gift of three months can evaporate.

PEI in Fall is Just as Nice... Maybe Better!

10/10/2018

So I finally experienced my first fall on PEI. A neighbour recently bought property across the road from us and has begun developing it, so we decided to go out for Thanksgiving weekend and tack on an extra few days, in part to check in on how the main building was progressing.

Most of the time I‘ve spent on my beloved isle has been in summer (though I have braved a few winter excursions as well), and I must say, it was caught off guard by how lovely this place is in autumn!

I‘ve read the Tourism PEI enticements to visit the island in the fall, but I‘d always sort of assumed that was mostly just a sale pitch. I was prepared to enjoy a nice thanksgiving meal and just play my drums and catch up on sleep for a few days close to home.

But it turns out the hype is legit: The island is largely rural, and as such, has lots of foliage to show off in fall. The caucophony of colours was spectacular wherever we went!

Although we did visit a new-to-us beach while there (Thunder Cove, to see the „teapot“), we actually spent less time by the ocean than on any other visit I have made to the island. Instead, we explored a few of the island‘s many trails.

Upon seeing several enticing forest paths on various PEI instagram accts I follow, I inquired where one goes for a walk in the forest; a friend and neighbour recommended Forest Hill Trail, south of St Peters, near Strathcona. So, off we went, dog in tow.

It had been rather a damp few weeks, and so mushrooms of all manner were blossoming majestically along the leafy forest path. We took several photos of the remarkably diverse species of fungi while the dog romped around the soggy leaves and went tearing happily back and forth along the trails.

Nearby we found another trail that lead to Whitlock’s Pond. Up we climbed into the blind (tower) at the end of the trail for a lovely fall vista.

PEI being the small island it is, water is never far away. The symphony of colour wherever we adventured was always accompanied by a marsh, pond or river. On our final day, before heading off to the airport for the sad resignation that always signals my departure from the island back to Toronto, we spent some time at Bonshaw Provincial Park, closer to the south shore, near a river.

Rick, Sneakers and I had discovered the forest trails there in May, and Sneakers quite enjoyed it then and when we took her back to show the boys the trail in Summer. It‘s the perfect little “tire the dog out before stuffing her in the crate for the flight home“ walk, and so we stopped there again this day.

The ecosystem had shifted its focus for autumn, and I was fascinated by the different mosses and tiny blossoms covering both the forest floor and various stumps along the way.

We did some off-trail geocaching, and also lost (and thankfully found!) my phone before heading back to the car with soggy-pawed dog for the half hour drive to the Charlottetown airport.

If you‘ve never been to the island in fall, I highly recommend it. Especially if you are a lover of nature, it‘s a beautiful time to visit, and as an added bonus, the place is not overrun by tourists and mosquitoes, as is frequently the case during the summer months.

October PEI, I‘ll be back!

My One True Love

8/25/2018

Before we embarked on our recent road trip to Newfoundland, I had heard many wondrous things about the beauty of this land. I wondered, before we left, if I would fall in love with it the way I had with PEI years earlier.

As we disembarked from the ferry in Port-aux-Basques and made our way carefully through the early morning fog that rolled across the landscape (a remnant of an overnight thunderstorm), we caught periodic glimpses of the majestic hills that define this part of the island. The view was so visually overwhelming that I wept. And for once, my kids -- also in awe of the magnificent beauty surrounding us -- didn't ask me why I was crying!

As we continued to work our way north along the Viking Trail (the highway that traces the island's west coast), through Gros Morne National Park, past many brooks and streams, towards St Anthony, we enjoyed a visual feast each day. There were few appetizers and little dessert. The landscape offered up mostly main courses: One strong and powerful rock formation gave way to another, always another. Water gushed and trickled and danced its way down the mountains, across the rugged landscape and out to the sea. And the sea was big and omnipresent, always to one side of us, creeping in and out to form little inlets for fishing villages, but always eventually stretching out, out, out towards eternity.

A soundtrack of Stan Rogers and other Canadian east coast artists served as an auditory complement for many hours of most days, as we took in without boredom the feast laid out before us.

In the people we met along the way -- whether through a local theatre performance, a band accompanying our supper one night, or the tour guides on the whale boat and at L'Anse aux Meadows -- we sensed a deep appreciation for, and love of, this landscape. They were connected with the water in ways that I would say most other Canadians, even those from other east coast provinces, aren't. Every brook is marked (and many accompanied by hiking trails), and the ocean plays a key role in the history of almost every family on the island for generations back. Their pride in this land is evident in the way they speak, the way they carry themselves.

The Newfies we met were confident and funny, without being arrogant; they were just very sure of who they were, geographically and culturally speaking. Where many Canadians waver in terms of what one might call a national identity, Newfoundlanders stand tall and certain. It was clear: We were in Newfoundland, but Newfoundland was not in us the way it was in them!

I enjoyed our time on the road tremendously. As a Canadian, getting to know this part of my country a little felt like an important pilgrimage. And I was very impressed with the landscape.
But I did not fall in love.

As we wound our way back to the Confederation Bridge, and Nova Scotia gave way to New Brunswick, and we eventually were able to glimpse the red soil on the other side of the strait, my breath caught a little. This beautiful place I get to call home sometimes is not nearly as impressive in its majesty as its larger sibling to the east, but it is a pretty little island, and strong in its own right.

Abegweit, the cradle in the waves, with its red soil, blue skies, endless potato farms and arguably the best beaches in Canada, is my one true love, and -- much as I was pleased with our time in Newfoundland -- when we finally crossed the bridge and found ourselves on familiar ground, I was happy to be home. And, when I flew back to Toronto about a week and a half later, I was still hungry for a few final glimpses of the red isle... as we took off into the sunset, I couldn't stop snapping picture after picture of my one true love!

The Property Across the Road

8/4/2018

So, I’ve been spending a lot of time across the road, so to speak.

Our friend and neighbour in Toronto bought the most incredible property very close to ours on PEI. It’s nearly three acres, and this summer, I helped him plant over forty trees on it, including several emerald cedars, a few little fruit trees, some lilac bushes, a magnificent, tall willow, some blue spruces, and several other soft and hardwood trees.

He’s been Airbnb-ing it out to campers (as well as letting people stay in the small, rustic star gazing cabin) at a very low cost to cyclists and other shoestring travelers, and more recently, he also hosted a little couch surfing.

When I’m not in Ch’town or at our place across the road, I’ve been sleeping in a little tent behind the larger of his two cabins.

It’s such a delight to wake up to birds chirping in the small forest just outside my “door”, and to watch our dog romping through his fields...

In consultation with him, our friend has allowed me to develop a pastoral wonderland near the ocean.

Although his main building with a proper kitchen, bathroom and second floor deck overlooking the dunes won’t be ready until sometime this fall or early next spring, there are already a few very cool things happening here: In addition to the cabin where he is currently sleeping and which will eventually become my music cabin (further away from my original cabin across the road, so I don’t won’t bother the neighbours when I’m drumming, LOL!), our friend has also got a little 8 x 8 bunkie with a skylight built in, for stargazing.

And, because his main building wasn’t ready this summer, I arranged for the erection of a small shed and a large mosquito tent for him on the front of the property, so that he could sit out at night or in the early morning without being eaten alive by the mosquitoes which are unfortunately ubiquitous in this neck of the woods.

One of my favourite parts of the property is the solar shelter. It’s a small structure with a counter which serves as an outdoor kitchen of sorts. A camping shower hangs from a hook, and an old oil barrel turned upside down serves as stand up table. A solar panel on the roof allows one to charge one’s phone and/or (sometimes “or”, if it’s been an overcast day!) boil a kettle of water for tea.

We’ve met such interesting people on this journey, from the Kijiji guy who built the fire pit (and did about a million other odd jobs over the course of two days before our friend arrived this summer), to the polite and oh-so-accommodating father and his sons who cut the grass, to the fellow who built a creative cooler bench to keep milk, water and beer cold in the temporary absence of a proper fridge, to the environmentalist who enlisted his friend to help him build the aforementioned solar shelter.... islanders and CFAs alike, who have made PEI their home.

And then, there are the guests. Tonight, we have three groups of campers who have found their way to this little heaven on earth: Two French girls (both of them teachers, and one of whom immediately set up her mosquito-net-enclosed hammock and decided to sleep there for the night), an adventurous family from New Brunswick with a very cute four-year-old and a baby, and a couple from Halifax who, shortly after setting up their tent, took off to enjoy the sunset up a nearby at lighthouse Beach!)

After two weeks almost non-stop running around helping to get things set up, I find myself on the property with a few hours of downtime before bed, gazing into the embers of a fire on which I cooked dinner earlier, on a beautiful PEI evening.

While one couple was out enjoying the sunset and the others were off buying ice, I delivered goodie baskets to their tents (granola bars, fruit and tea), and put some solar light stakes near the entrance of their tent to provide a pleasant (and hopefully useful) surprise when they returned home in the dark.

Earlier, I had welcomed them with fresh strawberries and a giant mason jar of ice cold lemon water.

I tremendously enjoy engaging in this sort of hospitality, especially for people who are not paying much (or, in the case of couch surfing, anything at all), and I wish I had the means to be able to do this sort of thing full-time. It reminds me of the summer before my mother died, after I came back from working at a hotel in southern Bavaria — I had learned the art of hospitality, which I applied, as a 20-year-old, to my mother’s many visitors in the garden behind our house where she lay on a lawn chair that August, discovering new parts of her soul while waiting for the inevitable autumn and winter of her now cancer-sentenced life.

Perhaps at the time just a tactic to distract myself and keep busy, I look back on those acts of service now with a new appreciation. The ice coffees I whipped up and served for my mother and her sick-guests while wearing the traditional dirndl I had bought while in Bavaria brought a little sunshine and pride into our somewhat “heavy” garden that summer, and that light and sense of competence spilled over into my soul. Similarly, the flitting around this summer looking after details that delight and surprise those who visit this place fills my heart with joy.

I feel very lucky that I get to participate in these acts of service this summer, at least, in this tremendously tranquil space.

Earlier this evening, I spied a little frog by the woodpile. And just now as I sat by the fire, a big fat owl flew overhead and perched in a tree at the edge of the property.

These magical sightings only add to the wonder of this special place.

I wish I could stay here forever!

intersections

7/2/2017

As my school-board colleagues were sending me "happy summer" texts this past week, I got thinking back to my first few years of teaching, and the sincere but often misguided efforts I made to promote equity in my classroom...

Colours and Textures Along PEI's North Shore

8/30/2016

There are many reasons I love PEI, two of which are the night sky (sorry, no photos), and the tremendous canvas of colours and textures along the North Shore of the Island.

Like many people my age, I can't help by marvel when I consider the vastness of the universe. And, like many people younger than I am who share my mainly urban lifestyle, I rarely get to see first hand fodder to inspire this consideration. Light pollution, and lots of it, often rule out even the most amateur stargazing adventures in and around the city.

But on the Island, on any quasi-clear night, thousands of stars are easily admired with the naked eye.
Many times have I put off taking out the recycling or compost bin until after dark, and been richly rewarded with an astronomy display seldom emulated in a planetarium!

During the daytime, it's the palette of the most distinguished artist I admire as I roam the beaches of St Peters Harbour and the surrounding area...

We're lucky enough to have found a spot on PEI's north shore, a walk to the ocean, and in a harbour that looks across to the incredible and ever-changing dunes of Greenwich National Park. There is also an old, land-locked lighthouse within walking distance.

My ideal day on the Island includes at least one walk to the ocean, and so I am often by the water, admiring and sometimes snapping photos of the russets, greens and golds that dance with the clear waters and blue skies to form my most favourite piece of art!

The vastness of the landscape is what impresses me most, I think. Everything is just so huge, without ever appearing pretentious.

Sneakers the Wonderdog, who seems to love the ocean as much as I do, often accompanies me on these meanderings when she is here, and frequently swims with me in these waters, touted online as the "warmest north of the Carolinas".

Yesterday, we walked towards the lighthouse in old St Peters Harbour, and stopped along the way to admire (chase) some large herons who were doing a little evening fishing in the estuary near the lighthouse "pond". (Whereas I am impressed with big skies, she is impressed with big birds!)

The water was delightfully warm and peaceful, and the view of the old lighthouse from there was astounding. As I did not have my camera with me, I wanted to come back the next day to take some photos.

Of course, an iPhone doesn't really do it justice, and I am never able to capture the wildlife, though I did manage to take a few pics tonight of two herons who -- rather than flying off when Sneakers and I approached -- made like sticks and sat very still at the top of some old, dead trees.

My doggie didn't spot them, but I did! :-)

It's my seventh summer on the Island now, and my sixth here in our house on the north shore... I'm frequently amazed at the ever-changing tapestry of the coastline. It's as if the artist is mulling over the finished product, and keeps adding new bits, or removing what she's changed her mind about: A little less gold here, a little more rust there, some taller grass here to add texture and depth, and some shading there to enhance the appearance of light.....

The result of all this wind- and water-induced shifting about is an endless delight to the eyes as the outdoor gallery constantly features new works by the same artist on a favourite theme!