Category Archives: Canada

Old furniture, new nest

Posted in Canada, Finding Home, Fun, Life by

Welcome to Kanata – here is a land full of suburban streets and sprawling yards. Living in the heart of this green, golf, and park filled paradise are me and the Zsoltster. We’re tucked away in my parents basement slowly plotting our transfer to a dreamed of apartment with a buzz in the streets. It will happen, we haven’t given up hope.

And in the meanwhile, we keep an eye on the streets. You know what people do here on a weekly basis? They discard furniture. Every week there’s a new (well, ancient but new on the road) drawer, table, chair, or stool on the edge of someone’s driveway. Zsolt and I keep an eye out.

To date we have accumulated the following items from people’s driveways:

Dining Table

Drawers

Toaster

End tables

Coffee table

All somewhat ugly, all incredibly old, all unwanted.

But we want them. We love them. With each bit of furniture, I feel like we’re piecing together a puzzle that was taken apart in England. All that’s left now is to find a sofa, and I think we’re set. (Though we’ll likely buy the sofa, new or used, because I don’t want to gamble with any bed bug infestation possibilities.)

Anyhow, I love this recycling idea. And I love all our free new/old furniture. Each time we find another piece, it sparks a bit of excitement – gives a little reminder that we’re making a new nest here in Canada. And things are coming along.

Enjoying the view of home

Posted in Canada, Finding Home, Life, Love, Travel by

This week I receive two emails of Canadiana (sp?) from some lovely ladies who read this blog – seems that the “Canadian Living” post inspired a little bit of Canada reminiscing. From ‘land of the silver birch, home of the beaver’ to reddening maples, sugar shacks, beavertails, loons across the water, cottage days, and even to the sharp dip in September weather; it was pleasing to see that our stories (Zsolt and I combined) touched a chord.  

On my desk in my new office is a painting by a fantastic local artist (who also happens to be the mother of a very good friend). I love her work – her paintings can bring me the chill of a winter morning, the damp of a rocky shore, the electric humidity before a storm, or the ripples of water as you dip your paddle for another push . . . talk about your touch of Canada, if I can write it – she can paint it.

And even better (if you want to get away from the arts) have been the walks. Everyday Zsolt and I go for a walk. He’s trying to learn Kanata so that he doesn’t repeat his ‘one hour walk’ that occurred the year we were married. Zsolt, Anna and Laszlo (his folks) set out for a walk on lovely May morning and didn’t come home for ages. Why? Because they were lost in Kanata. . .wandering street to street, trying to decipher one bungalow from another.

So he’s learning. And I’m enjoying all the green. For all the cookie cutter formulas and expectation in terms of lifestyle – the suburbs most certainly have greenery covered. From the gardens, the trees, the sports fields, and the micro forests . . . I love green.

The painting on my desk depicts an autumn day. It reminds me of walking through Gatineau park – you know the walk circling that deep, narrow lake? (If you even live in Ottawa or Canada, that is . . . and if you don’t, you are probably gagging right now on all this talk of Canada this and Canada that. My apologies.) It reminds me that soon the leaves will turn and another season will arrive. Already the temperature is dropping, and already I’ve stepped on a few crunchy leaves.

All this to say, I love our Canadian landscape. Europe’s got class. The world is an oyster. But oh, Canada, you are beautiful.

(Just don’t ask me to exude so much love come next January – cause by then I think I’ll have had enough of the darkness and ice . . . but for the moment, we’re in a very good place.)

🙂

Quick aside: My energy has been rather low lately; even these leisurely walks are tiring. Maybe it’s the settling in, the jetlag, or my little ‘vacation’ from taking vitamins . . . whatever it is, I’m knackered – and that isn’t cool. This is a problem to be solved asap. Though it could just be the travelling . . .it always gets me.

Another quick aside: Today I was stung by a wasp. What the frack! There I was, hanging out by Young’s Pond – and BAM – pain! Thankfully I’m not allergic, only offended. Stupid wasp.

Bittersweet realities

Posted in Canada, Finding Home, Life, Writing by

I’m sitting at my desk in the basement of my parents house. Around me are piles of boxes, and piles of  . . . of, well let’s call it stuff. Some of it looks useful, other bits feel random. Why did I ship the thermal socks with holes in the toes? Can’t really say why, except that it felt right at the time.

Happy labour day weekend to you. The leaves are starting to crunch and children are about to shuffle off to school. Tomorrow I have an appointment with my long-time GP to renew the Tamoxifen subscription. It kinda gives me butterflies.

You see, coming home I had – in a sense – wanted to forget all about the cancer. But tomorrow I have an appointment with my GP, and at the end of this month I meet with my oncologist for a little catch up and review. It seems no matter how far I travel the presence of this situation refuses to fade away. However, the tree outside our house is reassuring with it’s whishy, windy leaf-blown sounds . . . my family is near-by (though Dan’s about to take off to BC for three weeks – wish him luck as he treks through the mountains) and it’s nice to see them, Zsolt is cuddly as always . . . and I think, I think in a matter of days (like later in the week, maybe Friday)  . . . the unpacking and the arranging will all settle down and I’ll be able to just write.

Write and work on Narrative Nipple. And meet with friends? That’d be lovely too.

So my point? My point is that despite the never-ending reality of ‘checking up on the fucking cancer to make sure it’s gone, dead, and over’  . . . it’s good to be home.

Very good to be home.