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Berries

By Posted on 4 0

Summer, 1990-something, neon-coloured nylon shorts on and scrunchies holding back sun-bleached hair. My grandma has a raspberry patch and it’s teeming with red berries. My sister and I spend a month here, in the Ottawa Valley, each summer. The cousins compete for the largest fruit, crowing over how bright and sweet each berry is. 

I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the Ottawa Valley accent, but if you haven’t, I’ll tell you this — you don’t pick berries in the Valley. You pick burries. Razzburries, blackburries, and yes, blueburries. Pickin’ burries weaves through all of my childhood memories,

Winter Baby

Last winter M was always in her car seat when we left the house. We kept her in an infant carrier with a warm fleece and down cover. If it was really cold we’d put her in a furry bear suit before strapping her in (because it was an all-in-one layer that wasn’t too puffy for the car seat straps). This year? This year is insane.

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This is her one-piece Columbia suit (consignment!) and it’s only going to fit for another month or so. It’s actually not hard to put on — built in hand covers make it easy!

Year Five

Another year, another post. Like I mentioned last year, it wasn’t lost on me that my maternity leave started and ended around the same time of year as when I originally moved here and started this job. This past week at work has reminded me a lot of my first week here, five years ago — the same slight feeling of confusion (“where does this go? who is the right contact for this?”) and newness and excitement, mixed with a bit of trepidation. Add in all of my “one year ago today I was eagerly awaiting M’s arrival”

Thankful

It’s Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. Yesterday I drove up to Pickle Lake with M in the car — Matt had driven up with a few other people on Friday but they had lots of winterizing work to do at my in-laws’ camp, and we figured it would be easier for me to just bring myself and the baby for dinner then drive home later that night.

Luckily we had amazing weather yesterday. I was really shocked to be driving all the way up to Pickle Lake (it’s as far north as you can go on a regularly maintained highway in Ontario),

Kenora Day Trip

Every autumn our local electricity providers shut the hydro down for a day in order to do work on the lines. Last year it was mercifully cancelled and the year before that my dad was in town and we did a day trip to Pickle Lake. This year we wanted to do something new so we set out for Kenora on Sunday, right after the house went dark. It’s about three hours away, and we’ve only gone there a few times intentionally (as in, not part of a trip to or from Manitoba).

Unfortunately it started to pour rain about halfway there,

Snowbound

By Posted on 6 0

I have officially had enough of winter. Which makes sense because it’s spring — except someone forgot to tell our weather about that fact. It started snowing over April Fool’s Day and it did not stop until we accumulated something like 50 centimeters, on top of what was already there.

That is the TOP of my couch. And the window starts at least a foot and a half off the ground. We cannot see anything out the front window now except for snow and a sliver of sky.

Matt spent the evening of the storm desperately trying to get home.