The road home

We are coming home.

On the virtual eve of your two year anniversary here in Canada, we have decided that we are going to go back to Australia. We hope to be standing upon Australian soil by December 2007.

We don't know what we are going back to. Things change with the passing of time; places, people, ourselves, and then there are the unexpected things; things that perhaps only we, the removed, will notice.

Things will not be the same once we get back, nor do I expect them to be, which makes me a little afraid, a little uneasy and tentative in expressing my joy to return. I am afraid you will not like the new us, if you perceive there to be a "new us"; I am concerned that you have adjusted splendidly to our absence and there is no longer a place for us in your lives. Our kids don't know you, and you don't really know them; give them time, they will love you, just as we do.

We don't really know exactly where we are going to call home, within our wide brown land; we are hoping Adelaide, so we can be nearer to those we have missed, but the reality is that we have to go where the work is.

So why now....when we initially suggested forever.

Well, the answer to that could very well take pages to explain, and each page might present statements that contradict with the last: I love it here, but I dislike what I have become. I have enjoyed the years of quiet reflection and have appreciated being removed from certain stressful situations, but I dislike the isolation, dislocation from the social and the loneliness. The financial situation here has been crippling, stifling, limiting and suffocating, and yet we hope to return with a good profit. Ashley will tell you his love for sport is one reason he yearns so strongly for Australia, and yet we have not watched a single game of hockey, a sport that rivals Aussie Rules, concerning the passion and frenzied supporters stakes. We might tell you how soul depleting we found the cold dark months of winter over here, and yet the sight of falling snow was such joy to the heart, that our inner child simply burst with wonderment and playful abandon that we secretly wished it would keep falling like soft feathers, forever. We will tell you that the timing fits with children's schooling so they fit in and make friends, all the while tearing them away from the Canadian friends they have already made. I might tell you that I have missed Australia and am glad or, perhaps relieved to be home, but do not scold me, if I present with a broken heart when reflecting upon my my time in Canada, for unlike Australia, which I know stands waiting before us with arms outstretch, waiting to enwrap us in reassuring arms, I know my life here in Canada can never be again...it is over and it is done, and it feels a little like the end of a marriage, in some respects....one simply can not go back.

I first fell in love with Canada in 1999, when we spent time there on vacation. I longed to return, and dreamed of one day doing just that, saying that "I could live there"....mind is a powerful thing. But like all fairy tales, they are just that, fairy tales; skimming over the realities of real life and the practicalities of everyday living...no one lives happily ever after; it would be superficial to suggest they do; dismissing a person's growth through the challenges, adversity and the self-reflection they have had to endure.

When we return, I hope to make some good choices. I hope to return, having acquired some wisdom, though I can't tell you what kind of wisdom that is, for at this point, as I am still living in the moment. I hope to return and not make the same mistakes I have made in the past, but really, I don't know where life is taking me next.... taking us next, but I am open to whatever it is.

I just want to live.

The Empress

Last week we took the ferry over to Vancouver Island for a day trip. We have lived here, in Greater Vancouver, for almost two years, and had not yet ventured to those sweet corners of the province. In fact, there are many islands one might chose to sail to; Vancouver Island being the biggest, and also the home of Victoria, the capital city of British Columbia. It was unfortunate that we had so little time to spend over there. The Island is such a lengthy beast; quiet worthy of a good weeks stay in fact. It is also a rather diverse region, with its snow capped mountains, and beachside resorts and surf. It sure was pretty over there…. Victoria is a lovely city, with some beautiful old buildings along the coast. A stroll along Inner Harbour made for a pleasant afternoon in the spring sunshine. The mild conditions drew a lively bunch of people, and also artisans, who set up shop along the seawall, in order to sell their wares. A brass band serenaded our dreamy meanderings, while a variety of tiny boats, water taxis and sea planes busily darted in and out of the quay, like worker bees diligently delivering nectar to the hive. We had a lovely lunch at the Wharfside, which gave us a spectacular view of the water activity below. The restaurant had an elegant nostalgic feel about it; golden wood trim shining and preserved under several layers of lacquer; high ceilings with exposed beams; distressed works of art, which could only really suit a place like that, and grand lighting. The entire place carried a nice balance of warm rustic charm meets style. We enjoyed a spot of gallery hopping after lunch. There were many to choose from. I really loved the works of EJ Hughes. Apparently he only passed away this year, but his paintings really captured BC coastal living, to a tee. I think however, in my very humble, inexperienced and highly unqualified opinion; I would have to say that the ruby in the city of Victoria’s glittering crown would have to be the exquisite Empress Hotel, which was built a century ago. The Empress is so exquisitely regal and romantic, one can not help but feel transported to another time, perhaps the roaring 1920’s, when the western world was awash with cash and excessive displays of extravagance were the name of the game, for those who were able. The dining rooms alone are enough to make most people gasp, and of course, The Empress is famous for its Afternoon Te, an activity most who chose to indulge, are only ever likely to do once for the experience, because at around $50 per head for a pot of tea, chantilly cream, teeny cakes and cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off, well it is pretty steep. It goes without saying, we didn’t indulge; rather, we wandered those hallowed Empress halls; traipsed muddy footprints over its fine carpets; blotted the lacquered finishes with our grotty fingerprints and rumpled the upholstery, just like thousands of other sticky-beaked visitors, had done before us – an activity that is entirely cost-free. The Empress really was an awe-inspiring experience. How enchanting to be surrounded by her…I didn’t want to leave. Just being in her presence made one feel proud in oneself, and I began to wonder if I should perhaps find employment in such an establishment, so I could envelop myself in such romanticism, on a daily basis. I even dared allow myself to daydream on that possibility, as we shuffled through the room where 50 or so people were enjoying Afternoon Te. I imagined myself, a waiter dressed in the obligatory tailored white coat uniform and black trousers; the politeness in my voice, as I willingly served my seated patrons, and the fine culinary props I would present before them, to ensure the Empress experience really was one that would live on in memory, for decades to come. I looked around at all the proud people nibbling on sweet pastries and taking dainty sips of tea through pursed lips. They poured the steaming amber liquid into faultless, beautifully patterned china tea cups, while being ever so careful they not spill a drop and soil the starched white tablecloth beneath. Conservatively dressed women, sat tall, giggling and haw-hawing behind manicured hands, at an irrelevant tid-bit, offered by a stuffy old fellow, bearing an unsightly chime of sandwich crumbs stuck in his otherwise neat moustache. Immersing myself in the scene, I did begin to wonder, whether being a servant in such an establishment, I might eventually come to resent The Empress, her uppity crowds and emphasis on perfection; such majesty tends to draw and inspire the proud, along with the arrogant, and I could only imagine the ways some of the various staff may have been mistreated, disrespected and even dehumanised, over the years. There must be balance in all things. It is therefore, little wonder that The Empress; with her extravagant detail and beauty, might expose some of the more ugly examples of human behaviour, and the superficialities present within individual personalities, and so I resigned myself from The Empresses employ, before the imaginary ink had dried on my imaginary employment application; preferring instead, that her rare stateliness linger longer in my heart, rather than taint her memory through an exchange of disappointed energies, blood, sweat and tears.

reincarnation options

A dear Aussie friend came for a visit over the weekend. She has kids, we have kids, so we planned to meet at the Vancouver Aquarium. It was so great to see her. She moved to Canada soon after we did, but lives in another province. Although it had been almost two years since I had seen her, it felt like I had only seen her yesterday, and we fell back into that lovely comfortable mode of being, that one is able to, when in the presence of a true, and much loved friend.

We shared a lovely day together, and talked constantly about all sorts of things. We were looking at the playful otters spinning and turning in the water, when my friend smiled and said, "Oh! I love otters. I'd love to come back as an otter". I enjoyed her statement immensely and began watching the otters from an entirely different perspective.

They were gliding through the water with boundless energy and such grace. Their mesmerising swirling rhythm, made me feel that I were witnessing some kind of aquatic ballet. Indeed, to be as graceful, full of life and playful as an otter would be a marvellous life, and so my friend's utterance, made me wonder what I might like to come back as, should there ever be that kind of opportunity.

We were looking at the fish in the large Pacific Canada tank; fish with cold bulging eyes peering into the dark, murky depths and sour, down-turned mouths. The fish glided through the water with such defeated looks, starring back with a disdain for life, quite unaware that they were some of the rock stars of the marine world, as we mere humans had arrived in droves for an opportunity to ogle closely at them.

We concluded however, that they looked rather like grumpy old men and women, and should they speak, not a kind word would they have to say. They did indeed appear like they had tasted something bitter...perhaps they had - what with all the polluted streams, oceans and waterways, not to mention the hook stabs in the mouth they might have received, and there is the old, being plucked from their natural habitat and familiar surroundings to consider - I might look a bit bitter myself, if I had to endure all of that.

Of course, there are many kinds of fish, the variety we were observing at the time, were perhaps among the less fortunate in the fishy looks department, just as there are such individuals among the human kind (I for one, will not be looking into any mirrors during this discussion!).

The Beluga Whales were beautiful. I love their gentle faces, but they live in arctic waters, which quite frankly, doesn't appeal to me in the slightest.

The Beluga are white, like fresh fallen snow, which makes perfect sense in an environment bobbing with icebergs, but if I were a Beluga with a preference for much warmer waters, then I think I would indeed stand out more so than a pimple on a debutante's dial. I could chose to holiday in the tropics, where the beach sands were luminous white, then I might blend in....although a beached whale is never a good sign, and a good dose of sunburn on my lilly white skin would throw the the cobblers on the entire plan. However, if I, as a Beluga, thought ahead, and invested in a couple of large barrels of zinc cream to smear over the entirely of my being, then I should be alright, but since I belong in the frigid waters of the Arctic, why would I? Life of a tropics seeking Beluga was starting to sound far too complicated.

How about a dolphin? Everyone loves them. My daughter certainly delighted in their thrilling acrobatics; their leaping and their diving. Dolphins have such a likable reputation and admirable social willingness. They are noted with mystical reference and are often considered protectors; alarming surfers of sharks lurking in their midst.

Well, I am not really noted for my extrovert behaviour, and it is a little degrading that I would have to perform tricks for a smackrel of fish. What if I were not in the mood for tricks and games? What if I just wanted to laze around on an off day, and attempt to curl up on the sea floor somewhere and be lulled to sleep by the muffled sounds of the deep? I don't think the crowds would really appreciate an introverted, sometimes depressed dolphin - no fishy treats for me.

A gull landed on the ground before me, while I was being swept away in adventures of life as a dolphin reincarnate. The gull was not part of the aquarium exhibits. A gull is the ultimate gate crasher, although this gull's presence largely went unnoticed.

The gull was enjoying the dolphin show and didn't even have to pay, and even though the gull is essentially an animal of the marine world, living life on the sea breezes and dining on fish, the gull was not required to perform, nor was the gull trapped within the bounds of an exhibit or tank. The gull was free to fly out to more interesting surrounds, when ever he felt compelled to do so, and he could choose a variety of activities in which to amuse himself. Such as diving into the water in search of a hearty fresh meal. Resting upon the land; snuggling away from the icy gales, and searching for sea treasures hiding in the rocks, or allowing his leathery feet to sink into the soft sand. A gull can glide on a carpet of salty air, spy life from above, or play tag with other gulls. That certainly sounds like a charmed life to me.

In retrospect, my friend wasn't thinking only of the animals within the confines of the Vancouver Aquarium, and neither was I, but it was fun to imagine life as one of those marine creatures - but in all seriousness, I think I really would like to come back as a bird...a sea bird, preferably one that takes flight.

I don't look good in lycra

May I be among the first to reign in the post-Easter guilt insanity, by announcing that I have just signed up with CURVES for Women. How predictable! Surprise BLOODY surprise.

I think it is time; time for a new regime, a fresh, more positive outlook; a new MEEEeeeeee.
I wonder how long my newly found enthusiasm for energetic things will last? 5, perhaps 10 minutes? Golly, I do indeed disappoint myself with my good intentions, lofty and fanciful expectations and gung-ho idealism. I do tend to go into such fitness ventures with all the gusto of the newly inspired and then....I don't know, immediate results do not present themselves, and so I lose interest, become disenchanted and give up, thus returning to my far more productive and successful, sedentary lifestyle. sigh.

I am fully aware that it takes time and effort, and also perhaps, JUST as one is on the verge of giving up, the break through appears, but I sabotage my efforts in a zillion different ways on a daily basis, so why is this time going to be any different? Honestly? I have no idea.

I have been doing the Nordic Walking thing, but strangely, I am not getting the results I had expected from it. I am planning to persist with that group on Tuesdays, since it is a group thing, and I think I respond well to group motivation , and it is a little social, unlike going to the gym for an aerobic session (which, quite frankly, bores me shitless), but I also need something else...so Curves has been chosen, as "it".

"So. What made you pick up the phone and call....today, of all days", asked my perky recruiter.

"Well yesterday you were shut, Mate." (ok, smart arse).

No seriously, a couple of friends recommended Curves to me, and since there is facility very close to my house, well...why not. Furthermore, the workouts are only 30 minutes, so I hardly think I will have time to get bored before it is time to leave (although stranger things have happened). It is also kind of like a group thing, in that the staff are right there....so all in all, it seemed like a good idea... at the time. I hope to go three times a week; as they suggest. I have been weighed and measured (results being all to horrifying to reveal or admit to), so I will hopefully be able to see my progress over the coming months (....Oh God! Months....).

So, like the Nordic Walking, I am posting this for all to see, so you might hold me accountable and bear witness to my reluctant and resigned, yet necessary steps, down fitness lane.

Birthday girl

Our girl has turned three - who can believe that?

Thank you to everyone who sent a pressie her way - Olivia was a very lucky girl.

We spent the morning at gymnastics. After that we picked up her Dora the Explorer ice cream cake - Dora was for Olivia, the ice cream was for Ashley!

We took everyone out for a birthday lunch at the Riverhouse, which was nice, even though she only wanted to order chips. Oh well, that is pretty standard.
Upon hearing that it was her birthday, the staff came around offering a bowl of ice-cream or "rainbow sherbet" for her, "on the house". She chose the rainbow sherbet. Would you believe that she is not really a big ice cream fan...very unStrauss-like, isn't she! Don't worry, they brought out a bowl for Alex as well - very insightful of them, don't you think.

We had one last surprise for her, which was to take her to Toys'R Us and choose a big girl bike. It was a bit of a task in the end, since T 'R U is FILLED with a thousand enticing objects for the little person and steering her back to the bikes was a bit of a struggle in the end, but "the chosen one" was found in the end (shown here). Olivia seems to really like it. We had to "ride" down to the shops the other day. She had never requested going for a ride there before, but she apparently wanted to show "everyone" her new wheels. She has resented the stroller with full fury for quite some months now - she reckons strollers are for babies. I know it is true. She is capable of walking longer distances by herself, but I shove her in it so I can go for a good walk...walking is necessary for my overall sanity.

Anyway, enjoy these recent pictures of us all; they were taken in the last month. Hope this email finds you all well, and have a Happy Easter.