Whistle-stop tour...

So, ten glorious days flashed by in an instant, here I sit in the delightful – if a little amusingly pretentious – extra wide berth` seats of Thomas Cook flight TC106 to Calgary.

Rewind to eleven days ago and I was skulking around in Kelowna feeling like I was doing the wrong thing, half-heartedly throwing clothes into a care-worn suitcase that has seen better days – and worse days for that matter, it was one of the eleven that we brought with us seventeen months ago when we left on our `Big Canadian adventure`.

After a traumatic start to my journey, surviving a private panic attack (my first, and last, I hope) on a cramped turbo-prop aircraft bouncing it`s way over and through a veritable noah`s ark of imaginary animal clouds in the sky, my Air Canada flight finally got us to the scheduled Calgary destination 3 hours later than planned, due to a freak 12 inches of snow in 5 hours which necessitated the airport being closed every 30 minutes for runway clearance. If I sound surprised that we made it, I was… not that I really thought the Dash 8 would come tumbling out of the sky taking me and all those rowdy students on their school trip with it to the dramatic peaks of the rockies below, no, actually we had been pre-warned that landing in Calgary was hit & miss at best and we should prepare for a diversion to Edmonton. Well… I should probably just stop there because I did make the connection and recounting all the stress in between is likely to send me into palpitations again. I made the connection. With 30 seconds to go. Seriously, 30 seconds, an irate `computer says no`chick on check in and lots of tears, I even surprised myself, not something I usually subscribe to, but it worked, they let me on, all hot & bothered after running two looooong kilometers dragging a 20.8kg suitcase (what.. that 0.8kg over my allowance was only adding to my distress…!). A suitcase and two overweight hand luggage cases which I was trying to disguise as `light as a feather`. Nonetheless, a spontaneous burst of overblown emotion got me through the desk and onto the plane so I may just use that one again sometime….

So I arrived in London 9 hours later, to three beautiful faces ready to greet me, a few more tears and off I hop to my sisters house for a day of cuddling and catching up. Oh, and wine. Probably. I`m sure wine must have featured somewhere then, I remember it started pretty soon after I arrived and didn`t stop until I left. Technically that`s not true either – just wait a moment while I take a sip of my pink fizz, what`s that? – it`s only 12 noon?... now that`s where you`re wrong,, now I`m on Calgary time, it`s twenty to five in the morning, that could be classed as a late night drinking by anyone`s standards…

So after the wine and the trip back to my parents for mothers day, planned, of course, ahem, we came back and did more wine. You might want to pick up on the theme here as it`ll save you some time later…

First day was the day my beautiful niece, Millie, conveniently picked up Chicken Pox without any fever so was able to spend the week at home, you know me guys, this was no luck, this was fortuitous – Millie & me, we go way back, at least 4 years… The beautiful Lala as I insist on calling her (Ella, she corrects me, Auntie Jules) seemed happy to take her time to get to know me again, a year and a half is a long time in a 6 year old head…

Well, I guess (however useful it is for my alcohol addled brain, for recollection purposes, you understand) you probably aren`t interested in a blow by blow account of my every movement so I`ll skip to the highlights…

Arriving Sunday, Monday was chill time and off to collect my very zootie English right hand drive – OMG. Oh. Emm. Jee. A right hand drive zootie car with gears and country lanes…. Hmmm. This is going to be interesting.

Tuesday & Wednesday spent at the house. Our house in Greatham. The last I saw of it, it was empty and cold, showing all the scars of a hurried exit. Unwelcoming without pictures on the wall or furniture to soften the edges, nothing personal, even the curtains at the windows were packed away. The house we left was a place of sadness – this home I came back to was full of warmth and happiness, I loved it. I thought it would feel tiny but it didn`t, it`s like I have an English `schema`and a Canadian one. Things aren`t supposed to be big and ostentatious here in sleepy Greatham. They`re supposed to be small, quaint & characterful, with small, overgrown roads winding around bizarre objects like trees and ponds, and ancient churches, the paths were set out around existing settlements in olde England, not around grid systems and practicality…

Needless to say I was very happy to see the house looking and feeling very loved, no overblown spontaneous emotion here, no longing desire to be back, just a contented feeling that our home of sixteen years or so was doing OK without us. Those walls have seen some life – some history, some action – not just from our family but from families for over a hundred and thirty years… scary when I think of it like that…

Of course arriving back in England at my favourite time of the year was always going to open my eyes to the innate beauty of the place. Something I didn`t expect. Ski season is winding up in my absence and the next phase in Canada will surely be the buds popping and the grey-brown landscape turning a verdant green that only this time of the year brings. No waiting for England, Oh no, Spring has sprung in true force, daffodils line the central reservations, blossom weighs down the seemingly unsuspecting trees, straining under the heaviness of the pale pink glory. The grass is green, beyond green, not a colour in my spectrum since I`ve left, not one so luminous that it catches your breath and throws it away…

So, Spring in Greatham and the beautiful Surrey dales is something to behold. Coupled with the fantastic uncharacteristicly warm weather, sunburn at 23 degrees, my trip was turning out to be a pleasant surprise.

The alcohol tinged amusement continued on Wednesday evening with a gaggle of girls (and one brave boy) meeting up at the Greatham Inn. We laughed and chortled and became generally pretty raucous as the evening went on, much fun and catching up was had by all and then back to sleep in a new bed, kindly donated by the lovely Tia Clarke. That afternoon we had spent catching up, chewing the fat, inspecting new chicken houses and running the gauntlet of the school run trying not to sound too monotonous or pretentious while I recount how the kids are doing, how life is and spend a lovely (but inordinate amount) of time cuddling people. It was fab!

Thursday saw me meeting up with my beautiful old (sorry ladies, you know what I mean;) friends Karen & Sass, with the primary objective to see – and do some more cuddling with – the lovely Baby Brooke. Brooke was due on the day we left for Canada and, as first babies have a habit of doing, came in fashionably late. Suffice to say I have missed not being part of one of my oldest friends biggest life changes (Karen & Sass were assigned to look after me when I joined their school at age 12) and to spend some time with these three lovely ladies was an absolute pleasure…

From Karen’s to Ronnie`s for another evening drinking wine, catching up, loving every minute – we even had curry – CURRY – I love curry. Another wonderful morsel of quality time, another new bed, over too soon but fun while it lasted…

Friday, lunching with a Client and friend, humping more furniture and sorting more boxes. At this point I`m going to leave out the trip to Asda Walmart that left me cold, it just doesn`t fit with the theme… well, I suppose I could elbow the theme in there somewhere – wine, mannnnn it’s difficult to get used to the buying of alcohol in supermarkets again, and how civilised! Well, OK, maybe not, but a darn site easier than stopping off on the way home to stock up the depleted reserves… I confess I got a bit carried away with both the convenience and the price. ‘That’s it’ says my sister, “I`m not moving to Canada anymore, how much for a bottle of gin?” …

Friday evening began the new theme of getting as many people together in one place so I don’t miss anyone theme. My ambivalence to the wicked sinful stuff soon waivered and I was on the punch by the time the sun went down…

Saturday took me to Andy’s parents, meeting up with the Galloway clan and being knocked sideways by the other Andy Galloway, who is our nephew, his parents clearly dowsing the bed in fertiliser because the child that we left is now a fledgling man, broken voice and teenage attitude (apparently) to boot… T’was lovely to see the in-laws and be back in the house that Andy & I first inhabited together. Aaah, history. I hadn’t realised just how much I missed it.

Saturday night was an absolute ball. Scene setting? Sure. Try 6 girls, none of whom, I’m told, “get out much”, lots of wine (no, really, we did) a pub crawl around Guildford, finishing up in a bar with a clientele of an average age of about sixteen. OK so maybe I’m exaggerating. But I certainly felt old…

A cab ride (thanks Wayne) and a kebab later – I resisted I’d like to add at this point – and we retired in anticipation of tomorrow’s hangover… the tss tss tss of the last bar’s music still pounding in my ears…

Sunday was the final run to Greatham to collect everything to be shipped to Canada and take it to my parent’s house, lay it out on the lawn, sort into heavy/medium/light – need/want/can live without and get boxing. Taping. Labelling. Interesting times… after a family meal my mum & I sat in the evening piecing through all my old keepsakes from times as long ago as when I was nine having my tonsils out (lovely letter from my mum about how brave I was being – couldn’t read it again of course, I’m far too emotional… ) photos, letters, trinkets, an old wooden ball that Andy gave me covered in his aftershave when we first met, (Still smelled) locks of my children’s hair, wrist bands from their brief stay in hospital when they first came into the world, a locket with a photo of my mum & dad before I was even a twinkle… Lovely reminiscent time. Oh – and I saw my wedding dress for the first time (literally) since our wedding day. How beautiful. This is what a needed, a good dose of memorabilia.

The rest was a bit of a rush, Monday spent furiously boxing up and filling in online forms about all the stuff we’re bringing to BC – via my brother’s newly renovated home to another old friend who taught me how to drink. Just in case I had forgotten in my time away she came well prepared. I lost count of the bottles we drank but I do remember they were of all varying shapes and sizes, and all different colours. Going to bed at 2am with only a tiny bit of blood left in my alcohol stream, I deserved to have a much bigger hangover than I actually had. I knew there was a reason why I was so damn good at darts that night….

So Monday turned to Tuesday, my final day, the clouds turned in as if to hale the imminent end to my trip – I did bring this sun with me don’t you know – and now a race to the finish line. Couple of bits of admin, opening new bank accounts etc., and I spent a lovely afternoon with my gorgeous nieces at the movies, their first time it turns out. We watched a film about a bird a long way away from home who was torn between the people he loved and the place he loved. Hmmmm. Go Rio...

So the rest of that was a blur, now I’m sitting, wait 36000 feet in the sky, travelling 870km/hour in a long metal tube, just about to hit the tip of Greenland. Outside the window is the bluest sky, one that you’d struggle to replicate on paper it’s so soft, where it ends the misty white clouds start and those two simple features dominate the outside through the portholes as I see it right now.

In my absence the children have coped as if I weren’t there – so much for my anxiety that Amelie would feel her left leg had been removed. Maybe a left pinky fingernail at worst.. Work has continued, Andy has capably slipped into the role of major caregiver, breadwinner, soccer-coach extraordinaire – oh and he managed to fit in a few skiing days before the end of the season. He is my hero.

We didn’t really have time to miss each other as we spent pretty much every waking moment skyping, texting, calling… the world is too small for romance. Note to self – be a bit unavailable (keep ‘em keen ;)

So, that’s it. That was my whirlwind tour. Loved it, every minute! Got the grey matter shifting, enjoyed the company of some very special people, I was made to feel so special by everyone who I saw and I thoroughly enjoyed my time away. Just a few more hours & I’ll be back in the arms of my favourite man in the world, snuggling the necks of my two beautiful children and wondering if it was all a bit of a dream… I am torn, but that’s OK.

Catch you again soon.. promise to be more attentive in the coming weeks and months..

Can it really be a year?

Wow. A year?  One whole year? No way - not possible, let me just check...

Wowser. (and yes, I used this expression before I left the UK ;) It really is.

A whole year since we loaded up those ten - sorry, eleven, suitcases, packed up our home into boxes and piles and orderly lines and shut the door on the empty box that we called home for eleven years.   As we drove down the gravel lane our dear neighbours and friends waved with all their might, tears a-plenty (inside & outside the taxi) not quite believing what we were doing...

It's been an amazing year - all in all - but not without it's challenges.  I'm laughing inside as I write this, like a flat tyre might be a challenge, or a missing button... Challenges so life changing, so identity forming, so deep & so ongoing, challenges that make me want to turn off the lights & make it all go away.  If I could turn back the clock... a long way... (that's one of Andy's favourites....)

It's not just a move, it was like throwing away everything you'd ever learned, all those subliminal things that you didn't even know you knew, the colour of sugar packaging, how to fill your petrol can, how to get car insurance... you throw it all away (or pack it up in boxes in your loft at Woolmer Terrace) and come with clean, clear heads.  Leave the country?  leave everything & everything you know on your way out, before you turn the lights off... it'll be of no use here.

So. So... we did it, we broke through the first days of excitement, weeks of organisation, months of embedding ourselves into a new culture, and trust me, it's a new and very different culture, we broke through all that, sometimes we even came up for air. Only on occasion though, no time to breathe... get on with your life, or rather get on with making your life or you lose momentum. 

The children started in their amazing school, all big and brave - bigger & braver than I was, leaving the country?  Leaving everything you ever know? Tie up the business? Move to the unknown? Pah - peanuts in comparison to walking away from the kids as they eneterd that enormous 'Elementary' school that day... Oh how I counted down the hours...  I guess you have all that from the blogs at the time.

Apart from the tough, chewy bits, the highlights have been a-plenty.  We've had amazing welcomes, almost daily 'Welcome to Canada's for the first few months, endless invitation to dinner, parties, trips and more, everyone was so unbelievably... Canadian, friendly, helpful, generous, everyone (without exception) wanted to make us feel at home, which helped.  Invites for Christmas, to our dear friend's the Loyd's and then for amazing summer breaks & Thanksgiving too - we do give thanks for such an amazing family in our world.  We had the snow, the skiing, the snow-shoeing & the botched attempt (mine) of snowboarding, we enjoyed that Winter - one we got to grips with the fact the kids were out in the playground at minus 19 - yes it happened - and planned accordingly... we started to enjoy that white stuff BIG time! Oh the fun we had on that mountain, hey babe ;)

When the white stuff disappeared we look forward to summer, I threw myself into organising the school Spring Disco with a couple of friends, it rocked - we rocked - and I got to meet a ton more people & everyone knew who I was - yep, still the exhibitionist, why ever not? Even Tom said he was proud of me :) Andy took up coaching of the soccer (I have to call it that, OK? Football is something entirely different over here...) absolutely loved it, spent the summer with loads of kids hero-worshipping him and got to look like he knew what he was doing, he loved it & it added a new layer of 'life' to our lives... respect to him for that.

So, the kids & Andy learned to ski, I fumbled my way through that... we made tons of friends, I did the disco & Andy did (and still does) the soccer, and we're only at Spring... what else happened?

Well, there were the visitors... and there have been many!  How cool is that?  We leave, lock stock & two smokin' barrels and our friends & relatives save their hard-earned wonga to come & see us & where we live?  Well, I for one am gobsmacked.  How amazing to be able to link your old with your new, to weave a thread between two continents, to have English feet pad around on Canadian soil - because of us... that's cool, I'm proud of that... We had the party in June - 7 months here & 70 people, 70 friends crossed our threshold, we all had a ball, pool party, cocktails and a wonderful cake 'Canada loves the Galloways'... you know who you are :) x

Andy once said that amidst the anxiety of the whole mood he was excited at the possibility that he - he - may have been the one that when, in 50 or a 100 years time, his ancestors would look back and see our names on the family tree, and those of our children, as the ones that made the move from one continent to another... in 2009 the Galloways family moved from England to Canada and the rest is history.... Yes.  I get that, I really do.

So, that we have had visitors has meant the world to us.  First it was Sheila, Andy's wonderful mum, in May, followed by the beautiful, welcome & so needed Sarah & Colin in June, Oh how we laughed, Oh how we partied....

Then the delightful Sheila returned in September, followed swiftly by my mother, Anne, & my dwarlink baby brother Ceej in October.  How lovely to be able to show your family & friends how much of a life you've built up in a short time, remember, e.l.e.v.e.n.... suitcases.  Nothing else.  We had to buy everything from garlic presses to trucks - and everything in between.  Our wealth still sits in England, we started again like newlyweds and it was humbling & fun...

During that time we looked after a friends beautiful, stunning, Bed & Breakfast in Revelstoke - the place that was the catalyst for all things Canada - two and a half weeks of goat herding, chicken rearing, turkey wrestling... dogs, cats, bears, coyotes.  OK I lied about the bears. That was amazing, if we could make our business work there we'd be outta here... we love Revelstoke - and now it has Sarah & Colin's and Mum & Ceej's fingerprints all over it it's even more special, we're saving that for our retirement....

So, I guess being the 'anniversary edition' this was likely to be the longest blog post yet but it continues....

The business has picked up, knocked sideways by the UK Clients continuing to use GallowayCAD like we were still in Greatham, how amazing is that? Still, one year on they are sending work through as before, we count our lucky stars every day.  I connected with a wonderful company in town back in May and they have invested in my experience for a good time now, I'm meeting tons of great people through Total Office and loving every minute, knowing we need to lay the foundations here Andy has - ironically - started working with a new Client in town on the day of our first Canadian anniversary, who'd have thought it, and we have irons in the fire with some big names in town as well as the BC government and beyond.  Things take a while to pick up in this place and we've been at the helm, pushing our way through the ice, relentlessly - they're all probably fed up with the sight of us, but it looks like GallowayCAD - and it's evolution - will be even bigger & stronger than it was in the UK, given enough time... and that is one area we KNOW we deserve a break, damn we work hard!

And so, we did the year, we shed the tears, more tears than we ever have, we left the friends and gained some more, we saw our kids (and ourselves) develop into different  people, stronger somehow, and we're still standing.  Amelie has the accent - odd & cute all at the same time, Tom had the words.. ARSEOME.. at every turn... and us, well yes, we have thicker skin & stronger backbones but we're still us & we love you all...

Thank you for all your support his year, we really couldn't have done it without you xxx

How much fun in a week?

Soooooo much fun was had in a week at our beautiful friends' beautiful 'cabin' and yes, I do use that word very lightly... not the rickety old wooden shack on the shores of the lake the one might conjure up, nope.  Not that all.. take the opposite and double it. It was heavenly...

So, away from the usual format of this blog, the format which gives you more of an 'essence' of the experiences we are having and change it up a bit for this one post to spell out what our very lucky bods have been up to during the period of radio silence that was our 'vacation'.

Christina Lake. Just near the US/Canada border and about 3 hours away from sunny Kelowna and all the Okanagan traffic that has swelled to bursting, didn't think we'd be trying to 'get away from it all' so soon, considering as recently as last year we were part of that tourist influx...

Our week began with a G&T...OK, my week began with a G&T on the rocks with extra lemon, looking out over the most beautiful lake sunset surrounded by a million kerzillion (I am graciously informed by Amelie, who counted them, so there) trees.

Let the excitement begin.

The wind was too strong to put the boat in on Tuesday so we went to play golf.  Obviously. Never played before and let me tell you, that man back in Cowdray Park Corporate day in 2006 (who had his grip on my waist rather too intently), the one who told me I had a great swing and I should take up golf because I was a natural... well, he was lying. Let's leave it there... I said leave it.  We had a blast, the kids were a ton of fun and we managed to get around 9 holes without upsetting the golfing fraternity and their etiquette I think, they even said we should come again... I don't trust the likes of those golfers any more... talent. pah.

So with a run under my belt on Wednesday, at last I pounded those new forest floors and it was great to be back, the boat was successfully launched into clear unsuspecting warm waters... on top of, under the surface of and slicing through those waters became the order of the week, thanks to our gracious and generous hosts. 

First there was the tubing. Being dragged at the speed of light behind the boat on a cord that looked like it could snap at any moment is not really my thing... I had my hair coiffed and my nails done for this vacation for goodness' sakes, and wait, you want me to lie face down on an inflated doughnut, hang on to some polyurethane handles and try to remember the [hand] signal for 'slow the feck down' whilst travelling at break neck (no really, break your neck) speeds whilst everyone 50 metres away on that vessel beamed with amusement, belly laughing at how funny those poor passengers looked.  Calling things out like "Oooh you caught some air then" and "Hold on tight, what's that faster?" OF COURSE I'M HOLDING ON TIGHT, I have Jock's words in my ear "Just don't let go & you'll be fine"... well, that's reassuring...I'll be holding on then...

Actually, although all of the above is true, even the edited highlights of those hours of fun on the back of that contraption, the act of being brave enough to lie next to your ten year old son who wants your reassurance and at the same time wants to show off his new found bravado, was the most fun I've had in a long time.  Well, probably second to watching Andy and Amelie from the comfort of the boat when it was their turn... but the best antidote to that was still to come for me... and hats off to the amazing Rona who jumped in where mummy failed and allowed her body to be thrown around at the mercy of the wind & waves looking after my babies when their parent's arms hurt too much.  My hero...

After lots of swimming in, it was sailing through the water in a rather more sedentary manner that became my newest obsession, under my own steamy steam in a Kayak.

I'm not going to mention that I took to this rather more quickly and capably (for once) than my husband who is good at everything.  I won't mention that he was petrified of this little craft that was determined to pick him up and cast him into the deep waters all by itself.  I won't also mention that he found it so unnerving that he couldn't turn or look around and really wanted to make it go away as soon as he humanly could.  It would also be a bit cruel to tell you that when I lost my way a little and ended up wedged under someone's boat launch at the mercy of an oncoming speedboat's wake, that he didn't stop or attempt to help, he was on a mission to get his clenched butt back to dry land and sod the wife, he could send out a search party if needs be.  If I mentioned all of those things then it would put an ugly taint on the whole experience so I'm going to leave that bit out... if it's all the same to you...

What I will say is that when I graciously gave up my comfortable GIRL's kayak to Andy in place of the somewhat less stable albeit more streamlined (=faster) vessel all was well in Andy's world.  We had lots of fun, sauntering through the waves, exploring the shores for hours on end, we even lost track of time and made it back to an almost empty house, kids away for ice cream with Uncle Dave and our lovely hosts already left for their next adventure... but next time this mad English chick will give that wilderness land a bit more respect and take food.  And a hat, and sunscreen.  My arms hurt so badly that I couldn't even lift them to pour water on my dehydrated highlighted hair... Oh but we had such an amazing time...

What a wicked vacation that was. Never before have I returned so refreshed, so relaxed and so armed with another sackful of memories under our slightly tighter belts and a new warmth to an old friendship... Thanks R&J x

Diamonds on the water...

It's hard not to absorb into your surroundings, to become part of the landscape, to get used to the vistas and the sounds, the air and the accents, to move on from that first eagle sighting... the first snow-capped mountain, the first time someone says ".. well, welcome to Canada" after hearing your abbreviated tale... It has to wear off with time, right? It has to dilute, you have to stop seeing, stop feeling, stop hearing, you can't keep the magic alive, the awe so heightened forever, can you? Otherwise how would you ever get anything done? Those days I went outside to hang out the laundry and was transfixed for what seemed like hours by the mountain view... or as I turned my car into our local streets and actually drew breath at the beauty of the lake vista... how would you function if this feeling remained with you? Whatever it is that floats your proverbial boat; the hum and the lights of the city, the sedentary silence of the mountain retreat or a hundred places in between, wherever the vista makes you go ooooh would have to morph into habitude before too long, surely?  Tell me I'm right?

Well, maybe so, but I'm not there yet, and can honestly say that in a place as big as BC (never mind the delights that await in Canada further afield) that I will never, ever tire of this beauty, this space these powerful vistas.

Take this moment, for example, this very moment as I write, sitting on a floating dock on BC's warmest tree-lined lake watching a speedboat looming large out of the water, growling it's way towards me, cutting a foamy line in the otherwise calm lake, my man and my 'baby' girl clinging onto the inflatable tube which attaches itself to the back of the boat by fifty foot of rope... The sun, melting into my back, the faint smell of that sun oil that i should be ashamed of using, the dogs are launching themselves into water so clear and so deep that I can make out the outline of fish swimming maybe twenty feet below...

So. I really think I'm going to get bored of this?  Tire of these trees, of these endless places to explore? New running routes every day if I'm so inclined, alongside new rocky creeks to quench my thirst (hoping nothing died up-stream) and through new forests, on new trails with new bear thoughts... uh-uh, I don't think so...

I know it's not everyone's thing, and I know that my blogs err on the side of utopia, lots of clean and shiny, lots of wow's and ooh's, believe me, it alone has delayed my blog writing for weeks and sometimes months on occasion while I search for things I don't like (all in the interest of balance, you understand...) but I conclude that this blog, this web log, is my diary and must reflect what I see and feel, it reports my world as I'm experiencing it in the here and now.  Right now my feelings are of an overwhelming fortune that we found this life whilst we were still young enough to enjoy it.

So, I'll leave you, once again, to enjoy watching those diamonds dancing on the water.  At this moment in time I feel like the luckiest girl on this planet.

TTFN :)

Friends & High Places....

I was absent-mindedly writing a list of all the people we'd invite to our upcoming 'we've been here X months' gathering and caught a glimpse of it in all it's listed glory.  Now, those of you who know me will know I'm a lister... a list writer extraordinaire.  I even write lists of lists I have to write.  I write lists of things I've done just so I can tick the boxes.  I am a box ticker list writer and owe all my successes in life to this one, small yet significant characteristic... no really, I do.

Anyway, there it lay, gazing up at me, the sheet of paper covered with spider scrawl mind-mapping, who would we invite - did we have enough friends in our friendship arsenal to make it a worthwhile party-time.  Hell yeah [twangggg] did we?  It got me thinking how I woke up one morning and found myself happy in my skin. Happier than I've been for such a long time.  The stresses and strains of our existence over the past year or two have taken their toll on various corners and crevices of my world but suddenly I find myself at peace.  If only until my next stark-raving lunatic idea organically breaks through the surface and starts feeding off me... for now I'm aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh. 

This is due in no small part to the web of beautiful friends and acquaintances we have conned into being part of our world in these six short months, some of whom have become deep, intense friendships already, hardly seems possible.  You see we really struggled to leave all that behind.  We could leave bricks & mortar, sell off the cars, pack our past into boxes and our future into suitcases, but the emotional underground-cables of friendship bonds were painful, physically so at times, and with all the practicalities to busy our pretty-little heads with we avoided thinking about the inevitable loss that was staring us in the face.  Necessary of course, or we would never have left such an amazing life full of amazing people.

I tell myself I'm a 'wherever I lay my hat' kinda girl.  Tom & I are cut from the same cloth. We look forward and cry in private. Andy & Amelie on the other hand look back - nothing wrong with that, nothing at all, we just see things differently sometimes.  Andy had to come to terms with his 'loss' and it really was like some sort of grieving process.  My way of getting through was to envisage that at some point in the future I would build the friendships I so relied upon in England, that it was inevitable that, in time, this would happen here. 

In my wildest dreams I couldn't have imagined that we'd have found the friends that we have already - or that they would have found us, because, for the most part, people have gone out of their way to get to know us.

Teasing out the list there's the neighbours, the wonderful neighbours who we didn't really see through the dullness of Winter, except for a family with whom we quickly connected and have spent some great evenings already.  Then there's the 'waving friends' who we chat to, pass the time of day on our many walks, I count the school bus-stop friends in this list, always a smile, always an interested ear and always a lot of laughs, these are the people we see every day and they all add a little polish to your hour...

Moving further afield we have individually moulded our social scenes, Andy's embedded in his prolific badminton excursions, four, five, six times a week - those connections have led to some really enjoyable evenings out, and mine in the school environment, throwing myself into the PAC (PTA) and getting involved in some really great events. Through this the friendships just evolved, and here's where some of my greatest times have been so far, fabulous people, huge laughs and like-minded peeps. 

Then there's the exercising lot...! I have little pockets of friends with whom I Yoga, bootcamp & hike up mountains, all with one thing in common (aside from the sweaty me...) - the giggles & hooting belly laughing that goes on, the light-hearted light-spirited breaths of fresh air that we forgot to breathe for a while when we first arrived... give me that sweet air any day. It's been a long time since I laughed so much...

So, along with the array of wonderful people who we knew & loved before we arrived here in November we have gained a wealth of friendship since, from people who have made us feel so welcome, to add to our much loved and more missed posse back in England (and beyond...) most of whom who have gone out of their way to stay in touch, to give us the love and support that we fed off for a while and who never cease to amaze me that they still think of us as much as we do them.

Aren't we the lucky ones? Share the love... go on, feel it, feel it....

So - a soppy account maybe, but there's room for the odd emotional outpour on my blog, just keep me away from the brandy at our party, it makes me all gushy and loved up ;)

See you again soon.... x

The White Stuff...

Yes, all that white stuff.  There was lots of it by our standards but a very - very - mild year by everyone else's.  Not sure if we prefer that, we enjoyed watching the extreme cold kick in on the webcams last year, but I guess that's the key to it, we watched, from a dank & drizzly England - let's be fair, it was a dank & drizzly season in our neck of the woods last year... a winter that was pretty non-descript and dragged on for what seemed like an age...

So we only had a few days of lots of snow on the ground down here in the 'valley', ultimately I was thankful for that for practical reasons like I can't bloody drive in the snow, on the wrong side (and yes, it is still the wrong side to me...) never mind that we had to re-sit our driving tests again, the pressure on clear roads never mind if we had ice & snow to contend with, they may as well have torn up my paperwork there & then... yes, mild Kelowna winter worked for us this year, thank you very much.

Up on the mountain it was a different kettle of ballgames altogether.  Lots of the white stuff, plenty of good skiing at such a fab resort, and only an hour away on a slow day... needless to say my ideas of becoming pro-skier this season were rapidly quashed with a couple of very silly incidents that made me lose all confidence on those two planks strapped to my feet.  What is that all about anyway, I ask you...

I did migrate to one board - for about 15 minutes - until I took the instructor's advice in part and disregarded the rest, in hindsight I recall him saying when you want to stop "...point yourself up the mountain and then use your free foot (you learn with one foot out of the bindings) to stabilise yourself".  I got mentally stuck on the last bit & tried to 'stabilise' myself whilst hurtling downhill at speeds of up to, well, it had to be approaching 0.003mph, and my left leg (the loose one) rather attractively splayed up the hill whilst my right one continued going where gravity (and a large snow-board shaped bit of wood) took it. Down. I swear I heard the tear in my groin, I certainly won't forget that rush of hot pain in a hurry.  Mamma-Mia... Still, my teacher was very sympathetic... he laughed.  A lot. In fact I'm not sure he'd laughed quite that much since he landed in sunny snowy Kelowna from Cambridge UK a few months back.  He gave me the accolade of 'position of the season' and my money back... he was very sweet but I think there was a sinister edge to him, probably the comment "I killed one" that he bellowed for all to hear to a fellow instructor as I hobbled around the nursery slopes looking for sympathy...

So, whilst we took every opportuntity to play in the snow, tobogganing, sledding... with Andy & Tom making slow & steady - in fact quite exceptional - progress on their chosen white stuff mode of transport, I chose to find other ways of entertaining myself, snow angels, snow men...mulled wine.

Amelie & Tom, with a day of private lessons with the "Ninja" were rockin' on the snowboards... I must spend all my time & energy blubbing into my balaclava, so proud, so, so proud of my babies.... Tom, well, Tom, what a superstar. He'd already mastered the skis after just a few hours a couple months back & now decided that he'd like to try the board, how fab did he look?  I think I'd probably kill for those stomach muscles and that core stability, and I mean really kill somebody... he may as well have been held up on all four corners and escorted down the mountain with the grace & decorum he demonstrated, skimming the snow (technical term, sounds good eh?)...this boy did good, as ever.

Not to take away from his sister for one moment, the seven year old mini me, except she was a hot shot, all her worries and anxieties funnelled into impressing her teacher & her brother, by the time I caught up with her (tactical absence) she was hurtling down anything that resembled a slope, with a "yeah, whatever Mum..." snow-dude face on. Pass me those tissues, please...

So, the man of the moment, Big A, ground away at his technique, he was labelled quite innocently by a seasoned skier as a "Two Plank W*nk" (I kid you not) to the absolute innocent bemusement of the kids who just know that in England that word is something they'd be locked in a cage for saying... apparently this is not a word in the Canadian vocabulary.... So, he steadily improved, looked hot in his pants and achieved more than I could have dreamt of in the season whose finale is this weekend coming.  He'll make it up the mountain once more, this time alone, to wade through the record 47cm in 7 days and, I'm told, another 15cm overnight last night, before the mountain closes to ski tourism, the lifts get packed away and the shutters go down until next season, although someone did tell me about some funky li'l fish-scales that you can fix to your skis and carry on skiing up the mountain until the green stuff pokes through... I'll pass.

So, we did the white stuff, conquered it all in our own way, Andy & I diversified and went cross country skiing (huge fun and great exercise) as well as spending our 17th anniversary snow-shoeing, we looked very silly and clearly went very late in the season, more like mud-shoeing... but a great, fun & happy time was had by all in this strange wintry land.  It's good to be alone on the top of a mountain, with nothing but a few munching chipmunks, cougars... awakening bears....

Now we have opened the pool, bought our seeds for planting exotic vegetables and are dusting off the suntan lotion in preparation for the next big phase...

That was the white stuff story... next stop, friends & high places :)

As ever, keep commenting, love to hear it....x

Friends & High Places...

I can't believe it's been so long, did I really only write back in February? Sorry chapettes, that really isn't good enough, is it?

I'll bombard you now, just wait & see...

To be honest, I've been at a loss as to what to say for a wee while.  The whole 'new Canadian' thing must get a tad boring, compare this & that, "Oh how wonderful it all is... blah blah blah", and how we miss you so... but it's kind of what it's all about really, isn't it?  Without that what to blog on our 'Big Canadian Adventure' blog? So there we have it... I'll tell some more stories, draw a few more comparisons and place you in our world for a few gentle minutes so you can get a feel for where we're at. All of which should be bed-down on a foundation of "we miss you terribly" and, at any given moment one, or all of us, are struggling with the move in some guise or another... I won't harp on about all that, but just know it's there. Clearly I'm working on the assumption that you're here because you're remotely interested....

So to cast my mind back there seems an age, and yet our day to day has appeared so... so... routine.

What have we done, I scale the diary for retrospective reminders.  Oh yes, there was the Olympics, that was cool - very cool (although, apparently not cool enough on Cypress Hill in the midst of a seasonally uncharacteristic warm spell... can you believe they had to bring snow in?)  Should've held it at Big White... apart from that & birthdays there were a few themes; snow, friends, and high places... let's start with the snow...