Happy Anniversary, Canada!

Our, mine and Canada's anniversary, that is.  I emigrated to Canada 3 years ago today.  Wow, just like that, and 3 years are gone.

I'm not sure G realises the significance of the day, he hasn't been well much of the past week, so for today we have mainly addressed immediate needs: we went to the store to pick up dog food, the deli to buy meat (we like to frequent the local butcher as much as possible to get good, fresh cuts), and the gas station to top up the gas can and the truck (gas prices here astonish me, considering Canada produces its own).

I could have bought the dog food on my own, but I insisted on his company for the meat shopping and the gas pumping, chiefly because I don't know one cut of meat from another and would simply accept whatever is offered so long as it is reasonably priced, whereas he is quite particular about his protein, and I have never pumped gas into a receptacle before, and pumping gas is quite the ordeal for me due to the gas cap on the truck having its own key and requiring opening and closing in a particular way.  I absolutely hate struggling with opening and closing anything, it is one thing that will easily send me flying into a rage.  I am not sure why this is so, I have never tried to examine the roots of that particular issue.

Looking at myself today, and at the self that arrived in Canada, it would be easy to think they are quite different.  I have grown and changed quite a bit in the last 3 years, and though I am certain there is much more growing and changing ahead of me still, I am not unduly disappointed with myself.

If you'd asked me 3 years ago if I would expect to be working now, I would have said, "Of course!".  I could have had no inkling, though, that working would mean two part-time jobs, and one of them in a field I swore I would not go back to but find myself enjoying nonetheless.

If you'd asked me 3 years ago if I would count meditating and working out among my essential daily activities, I would have said, "No."  Now, I start my day with a yoga sequence and meditation, and am committed to at least 3 resistance workouts each week.  My body and mind now both reflect these interests, I am more "toned" (as in, there's less fat on me so my muscles show up more) and even developed in some areas I never gave any thought to (hooray for defined traps and delts), and I am calmer and less prone to hyper-anxious episodes.

Living in Canada has changed me, yet many things about me remain the same.  Many of my fundamental definitions of myself and the world are still firmly in place.  Of course, 3 years here compared to 36 years in Jamaica (minus about 18 months spent living in New York) isn't enough time to overturn these definitions, but some have been altered, perhaps even radically.

What about May's Goals and Notes,though, you ask.  Yes, enough of all this retrospection and introspection, what did I do with the month gone by?

I continue to save in the 52 Week Money Challenge.  As the weeks mount up, it is going to become even more challenging to set aside the funds.  May weeks were 19, 20, 21, and 22, for a total of $82.  I managed to squeeze $41 out of two pays for the month, reduced as my income was.  I keep reminding myself that with only one job last year (and the same amount of bills!) I was able to save all the weeks up to 26, so I should be able to manage it now with two jobs making up the same number of hours as the one job last year.

I could not do as much paying down as I wanted to of the next credit card on my hit list.  I had to make adjustments based on the reduction in hours/income, and that was one of the things I had to reduce.  I am keeping an "every mikkle mek a muckle" attitude towards this credit card, knowing that every little bit will add up to the balance as long as I keep plugging away at it.

Last month I read "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People", read more from The Simple Living Guide, and completed the final two Headspace Packs in the Performance series, Creativity and Happiness, as well as the first pack in Headspace Pro.  In the Pro series, there is much more silence and less guidance than in any of the other series.  As you can imagine, keeping my mind on track is challenging, but I am enjoying this series.  As much as I never minded Andy's gentle tones, I find I quite like sitting in silence to start the day.

I see by the clock that it is time to wrap up this month's entry, I am on duty as the sous chef and bottle washer.  The dishes are done, but I am responsible for preparing the asparagus and broccoli that will be served with the prime rib tonight.  I like easy recipes, and preparing the asparagus is a matter of tossing with olive oil, salt and pepper, and broiling for about 8-10 minutes.  The broccoli I plan to stir fry in butter, as steaming it is not my favourite method of preparation.

This month's glimpse into my life:

The family tree, planted for my arrival in Canada.

 

150 straight days of meditation

Farewell, Summer, I hardly knew ye

It's Labour Day today in Canada, same in the United States.  As surely as May 24 Weekend/Victoria Day (Canada) and Memorial Day (US) mark the "beginning" of summer, so does this day mark its "end" in both countries.  Mind you, there's another three or so weeks left in the actual season as it relates to the Earth's settings, the autumnal equinox falls on September 23rd this year.

Children are either heading back to school this week, or are already there in some cases.  Back-to-school shopping is the major expense for parents around this time, and children contemplate whether they are happy or sad that their holidays are over.  In Jamaica, it is time for adults to throw around the particularly odious phrase (or, at least, it was to me when I was a student), "Free paypa bun!" (Your free papers are burnt).  It used to imply to me that school was some sort of prison your parents sent you to, one of which you were particularly deserving, if for no other reason than you were under-aged and someone else was in charge of your life.  Well, joke was on them.  I loved school, and looked forward to returning.

This particular summer was less than halcyon, though.  Aside from the two weeks we spent in Jamaica, the temperature never rose above 30 *C on consecutive days.  I found it particularly offensive this year to hear people complain about how "hot" it was.  I might have thought that two years into living in northern ON I would be immune to such statements by now, but indeed my resentment was much worse this year.  "Honestly, we have seven months of winter/cold weather, is that not enough for you?", I wonder.  I guess some people would complain no matter what kind of weather we have.  I find it alarming to realise that several days found me wearing layers, long sleeves, and even sweaters, with temperatures averaging around 10 *C below seasonal averages.

The last three days have been rainy, and grey.  I was unable to take Nipper for a long walk yesterday, as much of the day it poured with heavy rains.  Towards late afternoon the rain and clouds did clear and let in some sunshine, but this morning was heavily overcast, and the rain started again this afternoon.  We managed to get in our weekday half-hour walk this morning, but I spent a lot of it looking at the skies and hoping they wouldn't open up on us while we were still some way from home.

I am hoping that we get a late summer heatwave, the mythical "Indian summer", but I am not holding my breath.  All the signs are pointing to a swiftly-coming, long, cold winter.  Indeed, there were trees sporting fall colours by the end of July!

Fall is bringing with it new challenges for me, and I am very hopeful that meeting these challenges will take me in new directions.  I have been working on getting back into waking early, and will need this "ability" even more as the month of September progresses.  The daylight periods will continue shortening, but my "days" will be even longer, and I will need full energy and enthusiasm to take them on.

If summer was only about hot weather and wearing less clothing, I would say I didn't have much of one.  As it is also about a break from routine and getting ready for new things, then I will say I had quite the summer, short though it was.

Vacation and Anniversary 2014

For our anniversary this year, G surprised me with tickets to Jamaica...in February.  A little far ahead, but still, it was exciting to think of going home after two years, and celebrating our anniversary on the beach!

Well, it was exciting once we were finally on our way, but leading up to it, I was trying very hard not to be overwhelmed with planning and executing so we would have a smooth trip.  I like traveling by air, enjoy the experience for itself and not just that I get to a specific destination.  G is, of course, entirely about "Why aren't we there already?".

In the week leading up to leaving, I organized ruthlessly, planning and revising as I went along, to ensure that we left on time for the drive to Toronto (requesting a morning shift where I usually work afternoons), that I only had the necessities in my bags to avoid charges for extra luggage (extensive lists of what I needed, revised often), purchasing currency to ensure we had Jamaican funds on hand rather than relying on credit cards, and on, and on.

Underlying all this planning, though, was an anxiety that ratcheted higher and higher the closer we got to leaving.  I was trying to control it, by doing what I always do, trying to pin every detail down.  My fears came to nought, and our trip went as well as can be expected.

I was so happy to see my brothers again.  My younger brother collected us at the airport, and immediately drove us to Burger King on Gloucester Avenue, exactly where I wanted to go for lunch.  I have had a burger from BK exactly once in the last two years.  This one was everything I needed it to be.  I was home.

We spent the two weeks at my Mom's house in Sheffield.  This started off somewhat inauspiciously, as my Mom was in Florida visiting my older brother, and basically left her house looking as though she had left with no notice at all, and did not intend to return.  I spent 3 days cleaning and organizing her house to suit myself, and thought long and hard about whether the woman who raised me to believe that "Cleanliness is next to godliness" taught me that because she believed it or because she felt it was something she had to teach me as a good parent (something she became before she was probably ready for it) and had simply dropped the philosophy now that she had no-one living at home with her.

The rest of the time we spent on the beach at Alfred's.  Being known there means being able to get what you like to drink without needing to ask for it, and having some of the most incredible views up and down the beach a few steps away from the bar.

For our anniversary, we stayed overnight at Alfred's, and went to a restaurant a little further along the beach.  The meal did not live up to expectations, but we made the best of it.  I also got my hair cut short for our anniversary.  Finally, after 5 long years, G and I compromised and I was able to go short.  Not as short as I wanted, but at least I could get it cut, not just trimmed.  I had grown weary of long hair, and frustrated with how much time and attention it required to care for it, as I usually do after a few years of keeping it long.  Once again, I have hair I can wash without worrying about how long it takes to dry, and that needs no styling to get into bed so that I do not wake with a crick in my neck.

If the first week went by slowly in a daze of heat and sun and sand, the second week sped up and went by like any normal week.  Before I was quite ready for it, we were organizing and packing our things to return to Canada.  By focusing yet again on the small details involved (did I want to bring this large Jane Austen compendium back with me, what would it do to the weight of my suitcase, what about my other book collections, like my Tolkien paperbacks?), I was able to ignore the thoughts about homesickness and how I would feel once I was back on the plane and headed for Canada.

Honestly?  It felt like coming home to be back.  Even Toronto and southern Ontario, which I see so seldom, felt familiar and welcoming.  Jamaica had been the same as I left it (roads slightly worse than ever, prices higher than ever), and Canada had become familiar enough in two years to feel as though I was also coming home.  Last January, returning from my uncle's funeral in New York, I had simply been coming back to G, this was where I lived now, and that was that.  This July, I was coming home, from being home.  It's an awesome and profound feeling, I imagine, to realise that you are at home in more than just the country you were born in.

In the week since we've been back, I have been focusing on my priorities for the rest of the year.  I need to schedule some time to look at what has been accomplished in the first 6 months of the year, and where I want to be at the end of the next 6 months, the first half of my 39th year of life.  I'll probably get that done on my birthday, a few days from now.  I usually like to reflect as I mark each year, and aim to make time for that once again.

Marking Year 2

As of yesterday, I've been in Canada for two years.  I want to wonder at how quickly the time went, but that would be almost too cliche at this stage, right?  I mean, it's only been two years.  Of the sum total of my life, that's 1/19th of the whole.  I suppose it is how much has been packed into the last two years that makes it seem like such a long time that has somehow gone by really quickly.

It was a very normal day, my two-year anniversary.  Normal in the sense that mundane events of my life were represented: I got up, showered, ate breakfast, went to work, took a break for lunch, completed my shift, came home, made dinner, ate it, went to bed.

A few things here and there were out of the "normal": I had to be at work a few minutes earlier to participate in a 2 hour training session meant to prepare us for upcoming changes to operations in the fall.  Interesting stuff, I am looking forward to engaging fully with those changes.  More and more, I am coming to see this job as part and parcel of my life here, not just something to make money at until I find a job similar to what I used to do in Jamaica, because that is highly unlikely.  I do enjoy my work environment, the work I do is repetitive but the human element guarantees that it is never boring, and though chances for advancement are small to non-existent at this time, I think in the long-term there are possibilities.

Another not-so-normal occurrence is the inescapable conclusion that I have developed carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS).  I was familiar with this condition only in the vaguest possible way, a former manager was afflicted with it but I never cared enough to ask what the symptoms or treatments were.  Around two weeks ago, though, I began to be plagued by an annoying tingling pain sensation in my right thumb, fore and middle fingers.  At first I dismissed the sensation as possibly resulting from a minor infection of a puncture wound to my thumb caused by a sharp surface at work.  When it spread to my fingers, and remained concentrated in the tips of all three, I thought perhaps I had scalded them one evening while doing the dishes by running the water too hot.  When I noticed the sensation was actually especially bad in the wee hours when I would get up with Nipper to let him outside to toilet, I was baffled.  The last straw was going to a workout with my personal trainer and finding that my usually stronger right hand had a painfully weaker grip somehow.

I conferred with a friend who is a certified radiologist, asked Google what were possible causes, and they both agreed on CTS.  The more I read the symptoms described on WebMD, and the more my friend talked about the anatomy of the hand and why my wrist and fingers would feel as they did, the more convinced I was that they were perfectly correct.  As of yesterday, I am wearing a wrist brace, especially while sleeping or using the computer, to relieve the pressure on the median nerve and hopefully return my hand to unencumbered working order.

It's beautiful outside most days these days.  If you discount the blackflies and mosquitoes.  Last Saturday, G decided it was safe to refresh the garden for this year, so we drove out to the garden centre to get some new plants.  I chose to get a variety of herbs, as I have always wanted to have fresh herbs available.  I picked out the plants according to the refrain of a song, for some reason I can't remember the movie I heard it in, but I cannot forget the line, "Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme".  We could not get thyme as another customer bought all they had left at the time, but got the other three.  In addition, we bought lemongrass (which we call fever grass in Jamaica) and basil.  I barely managed to avoid being eaten alive by the mosquitoes, and complained to G the entire way home that mosquitoes in Jamaica did not attack during the daytime!  Over the course of last weekend, he weeded the garden, planted my herbs and his shrubs and flowers, and I zapped the dandelions and crab grass with Weed-B-Gon.  Between us we have dozens of insect bites, but we're quite happy with the garden and lawn.

In two weeks' time, it will officially be summer.  I suppose eventually I will get used to the abbreviated spring here, and hope that summer is not often abbreviated like it was last year when the leaves were turning to fall colours as early as the first week in August!  I suppose that should have been a warning about just how bad this past winter was going to be, but having not seen a winter that brutal in as much as a decade, even people like G who have lived in E.L. for longer than that were taken by surprise.  As much as I like the changing of the seasons and consider it one of the best features of living in Canada, last winter was just brutally cold for days on end, to the point where I teetered on the edge of losing my joy in the season.  As a consequence, I am consciously trying to revel in the spring (such as it is), summer and fall this year.

In leaving, I close with some of the beauties that sprung up in the garden this year:

"Spring Ahead"

Had anyone told me, as I contemplated all the changes and adjustments that would be necessary to settle into life in Canada, that one of the hardest adjustments I would face would be Daylight Saving Time, I would have disbelieved them.

While I was in Jamaica, I would tease G about his "fake hour" and complain about the fact that him being an hour ahead meant that he was ready for bed when I was still wanting to be up and talking.  I enjoyed watching our favourite series (Showtime's Dexter) an hour before he did, but then had to wait for him to watch the episode so we could discuss it, and bite my tongue to not spoil it for him.

When I first landed in Canada, it was June, so Spring Ahead (the changing of the clocks forward) had already taken place.  I essentially "lost" that hour of time sitting in the airplane on the tarmac at Lester B Pearson International, waiting to de-plane and "land" as a permanent resident.  The pilot announced the local time, I changed my watch forward by an hour, and it was over.  I had so many things to deal with that day, that the loss of an hour in this arbitrary fashion was the least of my concerns.  Once fall rolled around and the time came to "Fall back", I was conscious only that we were on the same time as Jamaica once more.

2013 was a different story, however.  I was present for the change (back) to Daylight Saving Time, and it was traumatic, to say the least.  I got up at the usual time that Sunday to do my regular list of housework.  However, my usual time was no longer "9:00 a.m." or so, it was "10:00 a.m."  I was an hour late getting started.  It seemed to only snowball from there, as I fell further and further behind the usual times I would be through with certain tasks.  It was very nearly 9:00 p.m. that night before I was through, an unheard of time for me to complete the cleaning and laundry.  Until fall 2013, I felt the loss of that hour keenly, and suffered from a constant, creeping sensation that I was always late.  Anal as I am about time, this sensation unnerved me.

2014 spring ahead this year on March 9th was not much better.  I actually set an alarm to wake me on a Sunday morning, something I have not done in years.  I got up, set all the manual clocks forward, and started my housework at what was now 9:00 a.m.  Time seemed to RACE away from me.  Each time I looked at a clock, another hour had gone by, and I wasn't done with whatever I had started the hour before.  It was past 6:00 p.m. when I finished the housework and went for a run, it was nearly 9:00 p.m. when I was out of the shower and ready to collapse into bed.

Things did not improve during the first week.  My colleagues kept commiserating with me, saying it would be a week or so before I adjusted, that was how long it took them.  I pointed out that this is my second YEAR dealing with this phenomenon in twenty years, I saw no improvement.  When I forgot basic things like turning off a burner on the stove and what pieces of paper to give a customer, I realised I was seriously short on sleep and close to burning out.  All for the loss of one hour.

I finally decided that my workouts would no longer be scheduled for the morning unless I was working an afternoon shift, and therefore had plenty of time to wake up and sort myself out, taking my time to make my brunch and get myself ready for work.  I also set my alarm a half an hour later, for 7:00 a.m., as the darkness that persisted at what was now 6:30 a.m. simply added to my misery.

Speaking of it being dark at 6:30 a.m. following spring ahead: spring is ahead.  Tomorrow is the Vernal Equinox, the official start of spring in the northern hemisphere.  The earth's tilt towards the sun begins tomorrow, and a few more precious minutes of daylight will be added to each day.  I am still tired, still feel that DST is a rip-off, am still convinced Jamaica's politicians made quite possibly one of their best decisions ever when they ceased to inflict it on the population.  If only I could convince Canadians it is unnecessary!

Snow, and more snow, and New Year's Resolutions

Happy New Year, to everyone that reads this (assuming anyone else does).  Wow, it's already half-way through January 2014!  How has it treated you so far?  Wait, you say, what about Christmas 2013?  Christmas 2013 was very quiet, we went out of our way not to celebrate.  We didn't put up the tree, we made no formal exchange of gifts (although we did buy things for each other).  While not exactly totally into the "Bah, humbug!" camp, we may have set up tent on the outskirts.

The last half of December passed in a blur of work, extreme cold, early darkness and deepening depression.  It's the worst attack of seasonal affective disorder I have dealt with since being in Canada.  I could not seem to shake a sense of dread as Christmas and the New Year approached, seeing the way 2013 had begun.  On days when there was sunshine, I began sitting at the picture window in the living room, eager for light and warmth.

We had a quiet Christmas, entertained by friends of G at their house.  We were well-fed, and, being people who enjoy reading, they did not mind one bit when I curled into a corner of their couch and read on my e-reader.  I enjoyed not having the stress of preparing the usual elaborate meal that comes with the holiday expectations.  On New Year's Eve, I prepared stew peas and dumplings, a very Jamaican dinner which required a bit of time and effort, but turned out as one of my better efforts at that particular dish.  We watched a movie together, fell asleep, woke close to the close of the year to kiss the new one into being, then went back to sleep.

2014 started quietly enough, for which I was profoundly glad.  I did a workout as scheduled, as I want to maintain the consistency of my efforts at building my best body, regardless of time or space.  I then sat down to what used to be an annual task but had fallen by the wayside in 2013: New Year's Resolutions.

Yes, I know that this process has come to be seen as something of a joke, given that all too many people who make resolutions fail at sticking to them.  However, I have never been one of those people, I usually make a plan for my year under some broad headings, and  use this plan as a framework for carrying on through the year.  I am a goal-setter, I like having goals and targets and things to work towards, it gives me purpose and self-direction and a sense of being in control of how my life progresses, rather than being carried will-ye-nil-ye (willy nilly, as we say it now) by whatever happens in life.  I enjoy looking back at progress achieved thus far, and plotting a course towards the eventual achievement by making any corrective or evasive maneuvers necessary.

I won't go into detail on what my actual goals are, suffice it to say they cover most of the major areas of life, and this year are written down into what was supposed to be my Game of Thrones book journal but was not necessary for that purpose.  It sits on my desk, beside my laptop, ready at hand for consultation, random brain-storming, doodling, updating, and revising.  Yes, updates and revisions will be necessary, life has a way of throwing curveballs at you, but one must be prepared to either duck out of the way or swing a bat at it and knock it out of the park.  The operative word there is "prepared".  If you don't have a plan, you're not very prepared, that's how I roll.

Just over two weeks into 2014 and already we have had more snow, and it is snowing lightly today, with more expected for tomorrow.  On the whole, following the "polar vortex" experience of the last half of December, I find myself not minding the snowfall.  At least the temperature sits in a tolerable +5 to -10 *C range.  Yes, I just wrote that I find up to -10 *C "tolerable".  Coming from someone who has spent most of her life in an annual average of about 35 *C, this is quite the tolerance, if you ask me.  Once the temperatures descend into the teens below zero, I find it too cold.  I cannot seem to get warm inside, no matter how many layers I put on, and I hike the furnace up to 23 *C or ask G to turn on the baseboard heaters.  At that point, I am past caring about the gas or hydro bills.  I just want to feel warm again.

G is doing all the driving right now.  The extremes of cold followed by snow or icy rain have turned the roads into things of dread for me.  The roads are either bumpy with new-fallen snow sprinkled with rock salt, or slushy or icy.  No, thank you, I will be a passenger again.  I realise that I can only become better at handling these conditions by actually attempting to drive in them, but my terror of causing or getting into an accident and the attendant financial nightmare of such a scenario overrides my desire for independence.  My risk-aversion is in high gear in winter, and will likely always be that way until I am more accustomed to life in northern Ontario.

In just under an hour, it will be time to head to work.  It is Friday, which always makes us happy at work.  I am looking forward to unwinding from the week with G, and spending a quiet weekend catching up on the house work.

"Winter is coming"

I am fairly sure than when he conceived the Starks of Winterfell, George R. R. Martin was thinking of Canadians.  Possibly, those dwelling in the Northern Ontario reaches where I find myself making my home.  That "Winter is coming" is very much part of the psyche here is unquestionable, this I judge from the year and a half I have been here.

As soon as August this year when the trees began turning, I sensed a change in the mood prevailing, even my own.  It was a queer mixture of anticipation and resignation, flavoured with glee in some cases, stark unhappiness in others.

September drifted by, with the leaves in full bloom of colour, but by October they were already on their way to falling off the trees.  Still, there were some truly fine days in both months, real autumn days in terms of colour but blessed with temperatures in the low 20s (degrees Celsius).  Altogether tolerable, those days that held a lingering whiff of the summer than never quite was.

With the coming of November, the warmth began to recede and the cold stole the march.  The daily high temperatures slipped further and further down the scale, even though no snow came.  Oh, there were one or two sallies, apologetic snowfalls I called them, because the flakes had hardly hit the ground before they disappeared.  There was no accumulation even up to the middle of the month.  Not until the final ten days of the month, when talk of American Thanksgiving and Black Friday were everywhere, and Christmas decorations and music were already making their appearance, did the snow finally come.

The first accumulated snow was brought on heavy winds over the course of last weekend.  What did follow were almost Arctic temperatures that meant outer layers for me went from tights and sweaters to ski jackets and down coats.  The first winter storm showed up today, and shed an even greater accumulation on top of that which had largely been ignored as of little consequence.  Not today though, snow plows came out, people are shoveling driveways, and I canceled a possible trip to another library sale.  Days like these give me zero incentive to stir beyond the precincts of our house.

Here are some photos I took for both weekends, past and current:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yes, those last photos were taken out of doors, after dark.  I felt somewhat restless, in spite of thoroughly enjoying my day off following a harrowing end to the week at work.  So, I bundled up in my snow suit, put on my Caterpillar snow boots with their surefooted tread, and put the little Nipper in his harness and clipped the leash on him, and away we went around the block.  I found it rather soothing to be out there in the light snow, thoroughly cocooned from the snow except for my face, but enjoying the gentle bite of the cold against my cheeks and eyelids.

Officially, winter is not for another three weeks, the solstice this year falls on December 21.  Clearly, though, winter is coming, and Old Man Winter has stolen the last few weeks of fall for himself.

Reading projects, and more changes

Yes, I have an agenda now, to schedule things in and remind myself to get things done.  It doesn't help if I don't write everything I need to do in there.  Like keep up with this blog.  I am making a note of my next scheduled post date right now.  Honestly!

Two months ago, I was starting out my grandly-titled (in my mind, anyway) "Year End Reading Project".  A Song of Ice and Fire (Books 1-4) had been languishing on my TBR (to-be-read) shelf for more than a year since my birthday of 2012, and I decided it was time to give them a go.  Or, I should say, another go.  I started reading A Game of Thrones in October 2012, but quit within the first hundred pages.  I simply couldn't get into the book, and the author's use of character names instead of chapter numbers almost guaranteed I would end up confused and lost about who was whom, much as I was the first time I read The Lord of the Rings.

However, I decided that four months left in the year and four books in my boxed set was serendipitous, so I embarked (again) on the journey into the fantasy of George R. R. Martin.  I resolved to read the books on my lunch break at work, and read something else on the weekends.  I bought myself a book to use as a book journal, so that I could keep people straight, then discovered that the books had appendices naming the major, and not a few of the minor,  characters.

Fast forward two months, and instead of being halfway through, I am very nearly done with all four books.  I have been sucked into the Westerosi universe, and leave only reluctantly.  As a consequence, I read the second book over the space of 4 days, and the third and fourth in about two weeks each.  I only managed to stay true to my original calendar with the first book.  The fifth is now on its way, ordered via Amazon.ca, thank goodness.

Since I took over the organization of our home finances, things have been somewhat more orderly.  After a mis-communication that saw us over-paying the hydro and under-paying the gas bills, G and I have worked out a system whereby he opens and sorts the mail, hands off all the bills to me, I input them into the spreadsheet I use for tracking, and all bills are sorted into 3 neatly labeled caddies (one for unpaid, two for paid).  At any point in time, I can hand him all outstanding bills if needed, or confirm all paid bills.  Although I pay everything online, I print the payment confirmations.  Computer systems do fail, occasionally.

Another recent contribution of mine to our "home economics", is the use of a menu plan for weeknight meals and grocery shopping.  For some many months, one of my main bones of contention with G has been how late we eat on weeknights.  Often it is not until he collects me after work that he turns his mind to what we will eat for dinner, and that usually means some amount of waiting for food to be prepared.  Jamaicans do not eat dinner at 9:30 p.m. very often, at least not the ones I know.  However, that was becoming a normal practice for us, and it began to annoy me to no end.  Two weeks ago, I decided to end this practice by using one of the dozen or more cookbooks we have as a basis for menu-planning.  Specifically, Betty Crocker's Big Book of Weeknight Dinners.

The results have been encouraging so far.  Rather than going to the supermarket every couple weeks and spending $300-400 to buy random items we might like to eat, and still complaining that there's nothing available to make dinner (or lunch for work), we select recipes for each night, plan our shopping list accordingly, and I make weeknight dinners now, with help from G where needed.  Leftovers become lunch the following day, and usually there are leftovers.  So far we have not spent more than $140 on each week, and it has not been necessary for me to purchase lunch (usually between $5 and $10 per day), or any items specifically for lunch (such as prepared salads).  Saturdays and Sundays, meals remain G's sole responsibility.

As of this week, and for the foreseeable future, I will not need a lunch anymore.  My hours have been cut at work, the usual "budget cutback" cry has become fashionable in my workplace.  It came as a blow, but with many of the major bills out of the way for this year, such as the property tax, I won't complain.  For the rest of the year, or until my hours go up again, we will just have to tighten the belt a little further.  As a Jamaican, this is nothing new to me.  I am new to being a part-time employee, having been employed full-time in salaried positions since I started working at 20, but with a new life comes new things.

Something new is up next tonight: With the end of the Showtime series Dexter, it became necessary for G and I to find a favourite series to spend some of our "couple time" watching.  After seeing my enthusiasm over the Game of Thrones book, he agreed to give the HBO series based on the books a try.  We are halfway through the first of three seasons, but I can confidently say we have a new favourite series!

2013 So much, so little..

My last post focused on fall and the beginning of winter 2012/13, and I expected to update this blog sooner rather than later.

This year did not start well.  It started with a call from my mother in tears, and for a moment my heart stopped as I thought something had happened to my much-loved younger brother.  However, it was not my younger brother affected, it was hers.  My uncle, my mother's younger brother, one of four of my Grandmother's children, died 1 January 2013 of a massive coronary.  I left Canada for the first time since arriving in June 2012, not for Jamaica, but for New York State, where my uncle's life would be commemorated, celebrated and mourned.

I flew from Sudbury to Toronto, cleared US Customs in Toronto with minimal trouble (I forgot to fill in my I-94 immigration form, but the officer was gentle, I think he clearly saw my grief when he asked me my purpose of travel), and flew to JFK where I was collected by my cousin.  It had been more than a decade since I was in that airport last, nothing seemed the least familiar.  Even Yonkers was strangely unfamiliar, as we never went to any of the areas near downtown I had been used to from my time there, we spent all our time in the residential area my uncle now lived in.

Throughout the various events, I stayed well out of the way, did what I could to be helpful, and refused to spend any time in the viewing room of the funeral home.  Since childhood I have been afflicted with the inability to remember someone in life once seen in death, and I was determined to cling to the memories of my uncle as I had last seen him, happy and alive on the beach in Negril, Jamaica, offering me a freshly-caught lobster and a slice of lime.  I wanted no part of seeing him in the stillness of death, and it was my other uncle who understood that more than anyone else.

I returned to Canada two days after I left it.  Clearing Immigration and Customs was much less dramatic than my landing.  It was explained to me, although I already knew this, that these two days would be added back to my residency obligation as I had left the country alone.  I was still floating in that odd surreal fog that seems to surround a person when their life takes a sudden turn, and felt no particular need to say I was already aware of this.

I went back to work and life has continued in its usual fashion since then.  The winter was a long one.  As February and March slipped by, I began to feel a restlessness and urgent need for warmer days.  I had hopes that April would bring warmer days, and the start of Daylight Saving Time made me feel even more keenly that it had to get warmer, as I lost an hour of sleep in the name of more daylight hours.  Still, it did not get warmer, and G and I seemed to argue more often about my need to raise the temperature in the house until I felt more comfortable.

When it snowed on the 12th of May, Mother's Day, I almost broke down in tears.  It was quite more than enough, I was feeling a great deal of unhappiness.  Everything bothered me, and it seemed as though I had no filters and couldn't keep it from spilling over into my relationship with G.  Arguments over little things became even more frequent, and even our impending third anniversary couldn't bring us closer.

Finally, towards the end of May, the temperatures began to rise, and with them my spirits.  The snow finally all melted away, the city began cleaning the streets of the rock salt and sand, grass began appearing and trees began filling out with leaves.  The family tree in our backyard bloomed, and our anniversary approached.

We celebrated our third anniversary by staying the weekend at a bed and breakfast resort some way up Highway 17, heading west towards Sault Ste Marie.  I spent time on a lake in a canoe for the first time in my life, and did not freak out too much.  G was quite at home on the water, I saw a new side of him, and though we still had many rocky moments during that week, we came back together in celebration of our love.

 

 

 

The next event of significance was my 37th birthday, and I was treated to dinner by G this year in celebration.  I was happy that we could just spend time together, and at work some effort was made to make it a nice day, which I appreciated.

In the beginning of August, I accomplished a goal I set myself as part of my timeline for my first couple of years in Canada: I earned my driver's license.  Quite frankly terrified, I went to Thessalon, rather than take the test here in E.L.  My driving instructor felt that I would find it less intimidating to do the test where I was unknown and had less chance of feeling like I was making a fool of myself.  I made at least major blunder, but only one, as the examiner passed me.  I was still in shock on the way home, even as I held the paper in my hands.

I have been growing and progressing in my job.  With just under a year in, I have been trained to act in place of the head of my section, and been taken on as a permanent employee with benefits, although still part-time and not full-time/salaried.   I think that has been a goodly amount of progress for a year, I have put myself out to learn all I can and gain as much experience as possible, and can see myself continuing to grow.  It's not what I did before, but it can form a foundation, I think.

Over the summer we have done some entertaining, so far as we are able.  We have had friends to visit for Canada Day weekend in July, and this Labour Day weekend as well.  With only 3 weeks to the beginning of the fall, there is almost a sense of mourning in comments I have heard recently, as everyone turns their minds to the upcoming fall and winter.   As the trees are already changing colours, and have been since I went to take my drive test (when temperatures plunged in that week to such frankly unseasonable lows that I had to wear a sweater at least once!), many are the comments that winter 2013/14 promises to be a long, cold one.

This time around, I have resigned my mind to the need to wear warmer clothes, even at home, rather than adjusting the temperature in the house.  Quite frankly, after seeing our gas bills for the end of the fiscal year (August), I can now understand G's consternation every time I fiddled with the temperature gauge!  Now that I am taking a more active role in managing our finances, I find myself constantly on the lookout for various ways to save on our bills.

There are a great many more bills to be concerned with here than I ever had in Jamaica, or know of anyone having.  Where before there used to be just light, water, rent/mortgage, cable, telephone, internet and the odd credit card, here you have to add municipal taxes, natural gas and water heater rental.  I have actually created a spreadsheet to keep track, and bought myself an agenda, which I used to have but didn't get this year as it seemed unnecessary.  No longer do I deem this unnecessary, I need the sense of control being able to track everything daily gives me.  I feel more useful to G this way.

Tomorrow is Labour Day, and I will spend the day in my time-honoured fashion: doing nothing much.  I laboured long and hard today, as I usually do on Sundays, to make the house ship-shape and presentable.  Tomorrow, I hope to start a reading project that should take me the rest of the year.  I have been getting back into my reading, and taking time to focus on my need for solitude and reflection, respecting my introvert tendencies.

From here on out, I should be scheduling posts on a weekly basis.  Agenda in hand, I shall have the entry looking back at me, waiting to be ticked off as "done", and that should hold me more accountable.  With four months left in the first half of my second year in Canada, I hope to be better at recording the events I experience.

Fall and Winter, Part 1.

Yes, I know, it's been forever since I updated this blog.  Forgive me, it's been eventful around here since October.  Nevertheless, I will share a condensed version.

The fall arrived in spectacular, glorious colours.  I took many photos, as I have been fond of this time of year in North America since I was first exposed to it in New York as a teenager.  With the fall also came cooler temperatures and the necessity of beginning to dress a lot warmer.  Where to G the descent in the temperatures felt gradual, to me it was shockingly sudden.  One day it was merely cool, soon I was cold.  I soon learned a salutary lesson: as someone new to Canada, it is important to dress to make myself comfortable, not try to dress as I saw others (i.e. Canadians) dressing.

The first snowfall came in October.  October!  Many people commented that this was much closer to normal for northern ON than previously mild fall trends, and they fully expected a "normal" winter for 2012/2013 than had obtained in previous years.  I heard this with some trepidation, but I listened to G's advice when it came to dressing, and stayed comfortable.

Here are some photos from September and October:

Yep, I went from brilliant, beautiful, bold colours to dustings of snow literally overnight.  That first snowfall didn't last past the end of the day, but it was a sign of things to come.

Around the end of October, another significant event in the life of any newcomer came to pass for me: I got a job.  Finally, at long last after 3 months of searching, of sending out resumes and being resolutely ignored, of attending interviews and being politely dismissed, I finally was accepted into the Canadian workforce.   Oh, it's nothing like what I used to do in Jamaica when I left, I'm basically back to square one career-wise, but it's a start.  I was once again earning income rather than being totally dependent on G for even my "pin money", and it felt marvelous.   I had and still have a lot to learn, I have had to swallow my pride numerous times over being corrected on things I would never have thought anyone would assume I didn't know, but I have learned to accept that what I don't know is more than what I do know, so it is best to listen and take the lessons as they come.  Some are easy, because I know them already, others are hard, because things are different here, in some surprising ways very different, and making assumptions is foolish no matter where in the world you are.

November would herald even colder temperatures, and by then I was fully dressing in layers of clothing to stay warm, even as G looked on in tolerant amusement.  One rainy afternoon in Sudbury I finally had enough of cold feet in shoes, and purchased a pair of boots rated for -40C temperatures, and put them on as soon as I was out of the store.  I have been wearing those shoes very nearly everywhere since I purchased them.

It is important to learn the art of layering, so that by the time fall and winter roll around you are able to dress comfortably.  Layers start from the skin out, and the rule of thumb, to my mind, for anyone like me new to these temperatures is that too many layers is better than not enough.  You can always shed layers when you have too many, it's when you haven't enough that things can get miserable.

For me, it works like this: I start with my unmentionables (of course) then add the first layer over these of tights (thick woven tights or thermal tights or regular tights, depending on how long I expect to be exposed to the cold and what I expect to be wearing over top of them) and a camisole.  I usually tuck my cami into the waistband of my tights to form a continuous layer, thereby leaving less skin exposed.  The next layer consists of a thin, long-sleeved t-shirt, again either thermal or simply cotton depending on the temperatures I expect to be exposed to.  The next layer is my outer clothing, typically a pair of pants and a sweater (preferably turtleneck or cowl neck).  I have acquired quite the sweater collection now, I find them indispensable.  My colleagues find it amazing that I can wear sweaters indoors, I find it amazing that they can wear cap sleeved shirts and dresses.

The final layer is outerwear.  It is quite important to have suitable outerwear in northern ON, what works in southern ON simply will not do here much of the time.  Baffin, Sorel, Choko, The Northern Face and Columbia, those are the brand names most often seen in these parts.   A ski parka and a mid to full length down coat are basic, also ski pants, thick socks, good gloves and tall boots.  While purchasing these items even on sale can run you into the hundreds of dollars, they are essentials that will be used year after year, so it is important to invest in high quality purchases.  I received a number of these items as early Christmas presents, and the weather obliged me with an opportunity to gear up and go outside in them.

Yep, that's me doing a snow angel.  Notice G bought me the suspender-type ski pants, rather than the ones secured at the waist.  I greatly like this style, as it allows me to form a layer that continues under my ski jacket, and the jacket itself can be cinched in at the waist to minimise air flowing up underneath it.  Not too sure how I feel about the balaclava, although I will say from experience that it comes in handy when you are outside trying to shovel snow even while it's still snowing!

To be continued in part 2: Christmas and a New Year.

Road trip! Part 3

Toronto!

After a wonderful weekend with my in-laws, it was time to begin making our way back north.  We would spend a night and a full day in Toronto, although originally the plan was 2 nights and 2 days.

Leaving their home around 8 p.m. that evening, we made the journey into the city courtesy of a lift from friends I had made on the immigration forum.  They drove the hour from their suburban city to where we were then we all went out to dinner, then instead of our original plan of taking the train into Toronto from their city, they drove us all the way into Toronto itself.  We were wonderfully surprised and very grateful for their generosity.

Like any other large city, Toronto is magically-lit up at night.  I had forgotten to pack my camera in my handbag, and ended up only having my phone available for taking photos.  Still, it was impressively beautiful to drive into and finally see the city I had only managed to "breeze" through the last two times I saw it.

We had booked a hotel downtown, quite close to Nathan Phillips Square.  How close would only become apparent the next morning!  That is New City Hall towering over the Square, the buildings are as iconic and symbolic of Toronto as the Empire State Building is of New York City.

You might be asking, so if there is a New City Hall, is there an Old one?  Actually, yes, there is, and our wanderings would take us right past it.

That marvelous Victorian building is not the only one of its kind in Toronto, many architecturally interesting buildings have been preserved at various points throughout the city, cropping up to surprise you in the midst of the functional glass-and-steel high-rises, like this beauty:

Once we were on Yonge Street (pronounced "young"), we decided to keep walking on it all the way to the waterfront.  During my "Canadian immersion" phase last year, I had watched the news on Canadian stations and many times had heard of "Yonge Street".  I would often wonder to myself just how long this street was, as it seemed to be just about everywhere.  In point of fact, it is.  To quote Wikipedia:

Yonge Street (pronounced "young") is a major arterial route connecting the shores of Lake Ontario in Toronto to Lake Simcoe, a gateway to the Upper Great Lakes. It was formerly listed in the Guinness Book of Records as the longest street in the world at 1,896 km (1,178 mi).^[2]The construction of Yonge Street is designated an Event of National Historic Significance in Canada.^[3] Yonge Street was fundamental in the original planning and settlement of western Upper Canada in the 1790s, informing the basis of the concession roads in Ontario today. Long the southernmost leg of Highway 11, linking the capital with northern Ontario, Yonge Street has been referred to as "Main Street Ontario". A large part of the route follows an ancient well-established Aboriginal trail that linked the Lake Ontario waterfront to northern parts of the region. It was also the site of Canada's first subway line.

Yonge Street is also the north-south basis point for determining East and West street numbering in Toronto.  We would visit a number of points along the street, including the famous Eaton Centre, Yonge-Dundas Square and the Hockey Hall of Fame (naturally, this is in Toronto!).  The first point we got to on our journey was the Hockey Hall of Fame, located almost unobtrusively in a former Bank of Montreal building:

I elected to keep walking rather than actually visiting inside the Hall of Fame, hockey not being one of the sports I watch or follow.  I know the name Wayne Gretzky, of course, and that there seems to be a great deal of fighting during hockey games that bears no relation to actually achieving the object of the game, but other than that I know little else.  Utterly un-Canadian attitude, I know.  I might have to work on that!

Continuing further down Yonge Street, some more of the impressive glass-and-steel towers that dominate Toronto's skyline came into view.  One of these is the TD Tower, named for the Toronto-Dominion Bank, one of the largest banks in Canada.  Formed from the merger of the Bank of Toronto and Dominion Bank back in 1955, TD is one of the best-known symbols of Canadian financial life.  According to their website, TD has some 11 million customers nationally in Canada.  That means every third Canadian you meet banks with TD.  Their financial prowess shows in their rather impressive headquarters building:

As we continued our walk towards the waterfront, at 18 Yonge Street I was pleased and surprised to come across a display of a bronze grouping showing a male and a female with a baby in her arms.  Upon closer inspection of the plaque displaying its name, I learned the grouping was titled "Immigrant Family" and done by artist Tom Otterness.  Naturally, I couldn't resist having my photo taken with it:

After what seemed like a great deal of walking, we reached the beginning of Yonge Street, the waterfront area of the city that presides over Lake Ontario.  At what must surely be a rather prestigious address, 1 Yonge Street, one finds the Toronto Star building, seen here:

From here, G decided we should see something of Lake Ontario, and so we ventured to the ferry terminals.  The Centre Island Ferry was our choice, a popular destination if the number of eventual passengers that joined us on the ferry was anything to go by.  There were at least three groups of students of early primary ages, all herded along by long-suffering teachers and parents as they purchased tickets and settled their charges in safety aboard the ferry.  Approximately fifteen minutes on the water would see us cross the water and arrive at Centre Island.  We took a number of photos during the ferry ride.  I was especially fond of views of the CN Tower, which only got better as we got further into the water.  Just a few of the photos we took:

As you can see, there are a lot of beautiful views.  It was lovely out on the waters of Lake Ontario, the day was warm enough that the breeze from being at the front of the ferry was not unpleasant, and yet cool enough that all the walking we did was not unbearable.

From Centre Island, we headed into the Arts/Design and Fashion Districts by walking along to Bathhurst and then Queen Streets.  We bought lunch at a suitably arty cafeteria with the rather astonishing name Clafouti.  My egg salad on a croissant was nonetheless quite tasty.  Enjoyed on a park bench with a bottle of water, it made for a nice respite from all the walking and sightseeing.  Being as G had grown up in and around Toronto, we were in his childhood backyard, so to speak, so there was a lot he wanted me to see.  A couple of places included a community centre that had once featured a mural of his on the exterior wall and the "halfway house" where he was reintegrated into civilian life following his tour of duty in Afghanistan, while attending classes at George Brown College to earn his millwright certification.

As the afternoon wound on, we decided it was time to do some shopping, so we headed back up Yonge Street to check out the stores in the famous Eaton Centre.  My first stop was the restrooms, which turned out to have quite the line-up.   It moved efficiently enough, and when I was out we made our way around, looking into various stores.  In the end, most were considerably more up-market than we needed, what works in Toronto would not work in E.L., after all, the high fashion looks sported by the store mannequins would be quite out of place for me.

With what shopping we wanted to do out of the way, we ventured into Yonge-Dundas Square for more sightseeing.  The views there are instantly recognisable to anyone who watches Canadian morning television, as a number of the channels have studios overlooking the famous square.  Here are two views from our time there:

With the afternoon slipping away, G decided on one final treat for me: Marble Slab Creamery.  The name is actually quite literal, the ice-cream is worked on marble slabs which have been frozen, this preserves the integrity of the ice-cream while the employees mix up your favourite compositions.  I choose chocolate ice-cream liberally sprinkled with M&M's, and we enjoyed it sitting outside the store in deck chairs provided by businesses participating in a promotion to lure pedestrians into relaxing on the street.  The lane next to the sidewalk was blocked off by flower planters and chairs were placed outside the stores, allowing weary pedestrians to sit for a few minutes, enjoy traffic cruising by them on the one hand, while surveilling their fellow passersby on the other hand.

Treat done, we made our way back to the hotel for a rest and a change of clothes after a shower.  We would cap off the evening with sushi for dinner, at a restaurant on Queen Street, appropriately named Sushi Queen.  Service, price and ambience were all excellent, and it was a worthy cap to a beautiful introduction (a proper one) to the city of Toronto!

After dinner, it was time to pack our bags and get ready to back to the Metro Bus Terminal.  We boarded our bus shortly after midnight for the 1:00 a.m. departure.  It was just after 6:30 a.m. that we arrived back in Sudbury, tired from a long, somewhat cold (to me, anyways) night on the bus.  With limited choices for breakfast that early in the morning, we opted to wait until we got home to eat.  We were collected in Spragge by the same jocular bus driver who had ferried us there in the school bus five days earlier, and arrived back in E.L. just after 10:00 a.m.

Next time: the arrival of fall and fall fashion survival guide!