Eastward bound

 I started to write this blog post a couple months ago. I haven't written since May. I knew big things were happening. I could feel the impending change.

Last time I wrote, my world was shaky. My job no longer secure- both for lack of materials, and the physical strength to install them. Realizing that I'm no longer physically capable of many job things I could do before was a blow to the psyche. I knew I'd have to figure something out. I didn't know that once I had decided I was done, the universe would align almost immediately.

It never looks good in the moment. It's always an intense, sudden uncomfortable event that kicks me into motion. Discomfort makes us move. It's necessary, the biggest motivator. I found myself at my breaking point. I had to make the hard decision to walk away from the life I'd built up but could no longer handle.

There were other factors at play in my decision. After years of struggling to convince my partner to take a little bit of the responsibility weight off my shoulders, it finally did me in. The constant stressors that came with our lifestyle falling mostly on me shortened my burnout time. I reached it rather quickly- and then decided to try and drag myself along anyways. Until that moment on that one fateful day.

Thanks to covid delays, like thousands of others, not all of our permits were up to date. We were stopped on a routine check and told we could no longer drive the van until it was dealt with. We still had a 4 month wait. There's no way.. it's not impossible but it's certainly not easy living in a semi remote community without driving. That was the last straw. That bit of weight shifted enough to tip the scale. Instead of feeling angry and upset, I felt relieved that the choice had been made easy. I got my sign.


A few days later I'd set the date. Seven years was a long time to be anywhere for me. I never realized how deeply I wanted this change. It seems like going backwards. But after this long, and maybe just in general.. sometimes you have to take a big step back to continue to move forward. And I don't feel the least bit upset about it.

Don't get me wrong, it was a wonderful thing to experience being out there. I made great friends, had a million beautiful experiences, I learned a lot of stuff about things, and of myself. But it was long past due for my departure. I had to balance getting rides to the city for work and shipping my life to the east coast for the remainder of my time out there. It's a blur. Most of it was left there with my intent to return. But that didn't exactly go the way we thought it would either.

Shortly after my departure, the impending disaster that was the farm quickly unfurled. As the heat continued to be outrageous and the fires socking the valley in with smoke, the well system on the farm finally failed. A month has passed, and with several failed attempts to make the repair, we were left with no choice but to disband the farm. All of the animals are in the process of being rehomed, and our materials moving to neighbouring homesteads.

My belongings are still in the farmhouse. The moment I left I had to mentally write it all off as though it burned up in the fires. In order to get my head around leaving everything out there, I made a plan for my return to deal with it. I might not get the chance before the premises are vacated. But that was the point of letting it go. Just in case. I'm hoping it will be safely stored up the road until the world settles down a minute about this covid shit. It would be an easy flight out and back to ship it homeward if it wasn't for that. Hindsight and whatnot. At least I thought to put it all together before I left..

So I'm here. There's still a pandemic happening through which my timing to switch provinces was pretty on point. It was about as 'open' as the country had been this whole time, and shit shut down again pretty quickly not long after. I'm trying to enjoy the blessings in the moment without being overtaken by worry and guilt about leaving the farm in the middle of everything.

I had help writing a resume for the first time in years and I'm starting over to find a job. Pretty well back to where I started. In a room in a basement in my hometown on foot. It's kind of crazy to think about after everything.. that said, it's somehow been the best summer. I really missed my people. My place.. the comfort of knowing no matter what, I'm safe. I just need a minute to rest here a little.

3-11

 March 11th 2020 was the day it hit me- this whole pandemic thing is really happening, we're gonna do this. It seems like yesterday, but at the same time, forever ago. I remember chill of hearing about schools and theaters and businesses closing their doors. I'm typically a very adaptable person and can go with the flow, and even I felt mildly threatened by this sudden upheaval. 

This was the day I'd finally gotten my energy back after being sick for over a month. I decided to attempt to restock our now decimated pantry which had been depleted by weeks of staying home sick, and weeks before of winter weather keeping us grounded. Walking the aisles I quickly became numb and anxious- even our hidden little grocer had been gutted for every bag of rice and pasta. Panic had stricken the population into buying up all the dry food, canned goods and paper products they could- for fear of being locked down or quarantined. Luckily for me, no one had touched the produce.

Speaking of produce- I guess I spoke too soon. I was also late making my seed order, and was shocked to find that many of my regular items were long out of stock (and many still are). It's equally as encouraging as it was frustrating. At least people are taking interest in growing food. I hope that's a trend that continues, and the supply catches up with demand for seeds.

It's not just the food gardens people are after.. land is another thing that's becoming even harder to find, and selling at a premium. People want more space for those gardens- and a greater distance from others. Green space, room to breathe. Maybe they always wanted it as much as I ever did. But it took this global event to present a moment of "awakening". For lots of folks. An exodus from the city is in full swing. Land is changing hands quickly.

...

I knew looking back over my media posts this past year would feel.. strange. 311 has been showing up. I've been showing up.. it feels so much like I told you so...

...


It's been a whole year. It's been the longest year ever, yet it's gone by so quickly. It's hard to believe that in this amount of time, everything happened that did. February 3rd 2020 I went to the BC Women's Hospital for an appointment at the endometriosis Clinic that I have been waiting for for so long, and I got sick. The sickest I've ever been. Which eventually landed me in the hospital by the end of March, and my life hasn't been the same since.

I have now been back to work for over a month, and I'm not sure how much longer I can handle the job that I'm doing. Despite having almost a year off to find medical help and healing, I wasn't quite able to find the help I needed. And I'm not quite done healing yet.


2021 has only just begun, and already I'm feeling the weight of the season. Our crops must be carefully planned. Our time must be carefully utilized. And it is absolutely critical to stay positive.

Switch

 I think it's safe to say that this year has been an Awakening in some form or another for many of us. For myself, experiencing a Health crisis amidst a pandemic certainly left me shook. Back in 2014 I was in the best health of my life. I promised myself then that I would never let myself fall into a state of dis-ease ever again. And here I am 6 years later, awash in a disarray of medical mystery. 

It took years of hard work and dedication to reclaim my health in my late twenties. Having diminished that almost completely by my mid-30s has left me mourning the loss of something that meant everything to me. Freedom from unnecessary daily suffering. I struggled my entire life with some autoimmune disorder or another, and for the most part I'd finally had them under control. I had found the will and desire to put in the effort to take the best care of myself that I could. I had shelter, a kitchen and a garden. I had learned to make do and thrive in an environment that was once killing me.

Then something happened. Well a bunch of things happened, a sudden change in my state of mind, my environment and my intention. I held onto the self care habits for as long as I could despite my situation, but somewhere along the way I lost the most important thing. My peace of mind.

I catch myself forgetting to breathe sometimes. Anxiety, guilt, depression.. internal things. Feelings I haven't dealt with following a series of traumas. And instead of addressing them, I've buried them in busi-ness and obsessive, damaging behaviours. I've been exporting my efforts into rearing animals and keeping gardens, yet failing to allow myself to fully benefit from the positive environment I'm attempting to create for myself. From the outside looking in, it appears that I should be healthy, but I'm not. I'm sick, and tired, and often and a great deal of pain.

I find myself mindlessly going through the motions of the day. Perhaps I have been stuck on autopilot more than I realized. I find that being more mindful in my actions and more specific in my intentions alleviates anxiety, but I have been forgetting to do this... I feel like I've spent this entire year just waiting for something. All the medical testing, sudden flare ups and fear of the unknown has me stuck in this vicious cycle of distracted inaction.

I'm taking a moment to recognize this, and to write it out as a reminder, and to share it for the sake of accountability. I owe myself better than my current experience. I deserve to enjoy the life that I have built up for myself without being stuck in the clutches of discomfort caused by a myriad of probably preventable health issues that could be avoided by diverting all of this stress. I need to flip the switch.


It's time to do better.

A timely pandemic

I'm not sure I want things to go back to normal. I don't think the normal we had was doing us much good. Many of us anyways.. myself included. I've been struggling with my health for years, and this past year has been the most turbulent. It's kind of crazy to even think it, but if it wasn't for this pandemic I may have never woken up to the reality of my situation until it was much too late.

I spent the better part of a week in the hospital on an Intravenous. My pancreas, liver and kidneys went haywire, and my stomach lining was all but gone. I had just experienced the most intense pain of my life, and all I could think about was the fact that I was missing work. I wasn't worried about my health as much as my responsibilities- job wise and financially.

Quite literally I would not have voluntarily applied for medical leave if it was not absolutely required of me at that time. If it were my choice, and I would have been able to proceed with screenings and treatment while still going to work, I would have opted to do so. Even though it hasn't worked for me in the past. Even though I was aware it would be difficult, uncomfortable and possibly dangerous. Even though the likelihood of healing would have been greatly reduced.

It's been 10 weeks, and only now am I beginning to realize how imperative it is for me to be in the best environment possible to heal. I'm not better yet. Hell, I haven't even been able to complete the screening and diagnosis process due to the covid. I've been waiting in limbo trying to figure out for myself what's happening internally so that I can begin to correct it. And honestly, now that I'm getting into it, I truly believe any sort of actual healing would not have been impossible otherwise.

Being mostly homebound, I have the time and mental space to really pay attention to what I'm doing hourly and daily, so that I can monitor how it affects me and my condition. The food I eat, how much and when. How much sleep I get, or don't.. whether I remember to drink enough water to satiate my kidney function..what hurts, what helps, which organs are affected by what,  what becomes inflamed when.

Moving into my eleventh week on the homestead, I'm finally starting to get a good idea. A touch of a grasp on what's happening to me. And even starting to figure out how to manage my condition to keep up with everyday life. Thing is, in order for me to maintain and continue in the direction of healing, the reality of everyday life for me must change.

...

I'm 35 years old. I have been working since I was 14. 40-60 hours a week all summer if I could, and weekends in the school year. The further into high school I got, the more I worked. By the end of school I ended up finishing early so that I could work full time. Not always did I have a place to live, but I always had means of supporting myself. And between work and school it didn't much matter where I spent the very few hours of down time in between.

By 22 I felt the burn. I opted for a seasonal rotation of employment- load up on hours for a couple months at a time so I could take a few months at a time off to travel. The traveling of course came with it's own work, for several summers I'd go to either the east or west coast to work until work ran out, chill for a few weeks to enjoy it, and come back home. Being transient lessened my expenses for certain things, so I spent a little less time doing hard labour so I could spend more time on the trails and in the trees.

It worked well for me for nearly a decade. But as I made a running slide into my thirties, it all caught up to me quickly. My body isn't as keen as it once was sleeping on the ground or in the back of a truck. My recovery time is longer, I need a bit more actual rest. Having a place to call home became imperative, and now it's finally time I take advantage of the opportunity- to use this time at Home to Heal.

...

But I can't go through all this just to come out the other side and go back to normal, the very normal that got me to this level of dis-ease and discomfort in the first place. Every job I've ever had has taken it's toll. It's the only kind of work I know, what I'm good at. Physical. Hard. Work. I'm in construction now, before that was landscaping and gardening on all scales. Before that was warehouse jobs, garden centers, even the photo lab was hard on the body with repetitive heavy lifting of the giant paper cartridges and photo chemicals that I now know had long term effects on my inner organs.

When I ended up taking a dive with my health I'd gotten myself down to 30 hour work weeks already, with 15 hours of driving on top. Though I had the right idea limiting my hours a bit, I don't think it was enough. Reality is though, maintaining a role in society requires an income. I've had a bit of a break from having to stress about that aspect of daily life for a minute, finally utilizing the insurance I've been paying into for years- but my time is almost up.

Now I must consider my reentry into the game. I have to make a decision- going back to what I was doing is not an option if I wish to also maintain my health. I can either go back to work very part time and find other means of supplementing my income, or consider long term disability while I further pursue my health paradox. Both options have their own sets of benefits and drawbacks, so I must carefully weigh my options in the coming weeks.


It's been a timely pandemic indeed. I refuse to let the lessons learned- about my health, job and food security go to waste. It's been an eye opening experience on many levels, and now more than ever, it's time for change.

Essential.

I'm one of the "lucky" ones whose job is considered essential. A couple weeks ago, my health began to fail me as I realized I was in the throes of a terribly painful autoimmune flare. My entire innards are inflamed and bleeding. Wedging me firmly into the "at-risk" category, as if I wasn't there already. For a couple weeks before all this, I was conflicted.. thankful I still have a job to go to, and afraid to go to work.

Just as I was leaving the hospital, my doctor called me. She'd received the reports from my weekend stay and had to check in. I explained to her what was going on and said, maybe I shouldn't be going to work.. I could hear her stand up on the other end of the line as her voice changed, realizing I was still going in..

Stay. Home.

That is what's essential right now. To not go to work and let my body heal. It took me more than a bit to accept this. And even though I have mostly come to terms with it, I keep pushing myself to feel good enough to last a full shift on my feet and moving. Some days are better than others. I've had two days this past week that amount to spending 90% of my time in bed, feeling like garbage.

As it turns out, my staying on the homestead has become my essential role these days. It's been an unusually dry, sunny April which means the freshly seeded beds need to be watered several times a day. Given the current state of things, our ever important food gardens feel extra critical to produce this season. I'm hardly surprised anymore to go to the grocery and not find things like carrots or fresh greens.

Speaking of food availability, another item that's been harder to find these days is eggs. As luck would have it, a friend has the hookups with a local free range organic flock and we're able to source a case of eggs a week to disperse to our neighbours. Not for profits, just for the accompanying joy and sense of accomplishment that comes with knowing you can help someone even in a small way. The experience in doing so has been one that will stick with me for years to come.

I feel the most essential thing to address right now for many of us is our mental health. It's not every day that every facet of our lives is affected by a global pandemic, and the effects unseen can be the most damaging. I spent 2 weeks having panic attacks about still having to work, and harder panic attacks about my job situation possibly shutting down. My body forcing me into taking leave had me scared about getting employment insurance, and even now receiving the funds has come with it's own pile of stress. It's imperative both for my recovery and to make it though this mentally, that I learn to chill the fack out.

To all my essential and frontline working friends, my heart is with you. Thank you for keeping us safe and fed. To my homies working from home, I'm glad you are safe. Please take good care. To everyone caught in the vortex of uncertainty, don't forget- we're in this alone, together. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need a friend to talk to.

The Purge- Where to begin.

It's still strange to think about leaving this place. This little farmhouse on the Slough has been the first real tangible experience of home that I have had in my entire adult life. It's amazing what you can pack into 420 square feet, it's even more amazing what one can accumulate in just a few short years. It's time to start shedding the weight in more ways than one.

I don't know how I let myself get so cluttered. Life has a way of doing that... it was a bit overwhelming to think of at first. Where do I begin letting go? The obvious answer is within. I let my health get away from me. I'm carrying far more weight then I'm supposed to be. Both literally and everythingly... I need to get a few things off my shoulders.

I've been in this state of dis-ease before. There's no magic pill, there's no wonder diet. You have to want health to be healthy. So I'm starting the cleansing process with me. I'm doing everything I can to eliminate dietary stresses, and not allow external stresses that create extra weight. I love bread and cheeses and soy and all the delicious things I shouldn't eat having an autoimmune disorder. But no amount of delicious foods will ever be worth the pain and discomfort that I experience constantly if I include them in my diet. Sugar Cravings are real, caffeine Cravings are real... but I'm sick of the up and down, the peak and crash. I want to feel my best all the time and my body deserves what it needs to be healthy. And stress free.

Stress free is key, essentially. The next layer of stress to peel back is the one that surrounds me in my home. The space between myself and the four walls that contain me. We have accumulated a lot of things both together and separately. My folks brought me 11 totes of my entire history from Ontario which I have been systematically eliminating most of the contents of one by one. The idea of trying to store all of these things that I've been carrying around with me my whole life is extremely stressful, I have been doing my best to part with all and anything that does not spark Joy.


De-cluttering my home and my diet come hand-in-hand for me. I feel like I can't be successful with one if I don't also do the other. Because the impending move itself will be a big change with its own chapters of stress to overcome, doing everything we can to minimize our workload until then is critical. Both so that we can put the time needed into preparing our new site, and have a bit of an easier transition. Winter is coming, and I hear we are getting a real one this year.

The next zone to scale back is the one outside our house.. the hobby farm. Given that we will be starting from scratch at our next intended location, we decided to minimize our herd over the next few weeks. Starting with one of my favourite parts of hobby farming. The chickens. A few days after I came back from Ontario, our beautiful rainbow flock was decimated by a couple mink in one night. All of my rainbow layers, my new girls that I had been waiting several months for them to finally start laying Robin blue eggs, my favourite black Australorp... gone.

After two years of having chickens here and never having a problem with predators, we were confident that we had our Chicken Coop on lockdown. We quickly fixed the breach and caught the perpetrators, and haven't had a problem since. Unfortunately, all of the survivors but one are retirees that no longer lay. I had to make a difficult decision to re-home the flock. Given that they are no longer productive, it doesn't make sense for me to keep them as they are the most intensive animals that we have to maintain. When we are getting eggs, any of the expenses incurred would be gained back in their production. Having them here on our small hobby Farm is no longer sustainable. They will be moving along to greener pastures at the end of the month. I will really miss having them, but I'm confident that we will end up adopting a new flock when the time is right.

The pigs have got to go. Maybe we will keep a breeding pair and take them with us, but only if we're sure we can secure the infrastructure in time. The meat rabbits will be shuffled along to those who await. Clover might have to join us in the trailer for a while.

All of this in preparation for the ultimate purge- ourselves from this place. As much as we have put into this house and the land, it's time to move along. The house is old and falling apart, and we have outgrown the land as well as the relationship with it's owner. We'd grown too comfortable in these four walls and ignored the fact that maybe they weren't the best for us. We are grateful for the community we have connected with, and will happily take those bonds with us. Onward and Up....

The crash.

I haven't published a post in a while, though I have many sitting in draft that I just haven't been able to finish. Sometimes it's hard to find the words. 

I'm coming up on my 3 year mark of permanently uprooting myself from Southern Ontario, and a lot has changed since then. There have been many ups, and some pretty severe downs.. and though on the outside I have made a lot of progress and achieved some pretty rad life goals, on the inside I'm falling apart. 

My health is failing, being the number one down. My physical health, which I had come to master on my own through nutrition, exercise and meditation, I have all but lost touch with. This is affecting my mental health in a serious way this past 9 or so months, and as a result I have been pushing away my partner. 

I'm on the brink of losing everything I have worked so hard to achieve, just as I'm about to finally make a huge step forward in my career. If I don't get my health in order, and fast, I'm going to be in some serious trouble. I don't want that. I don't want to lose out on decent job opportunities, on the homestead I've put my heart and soul into, and the partner that helped me make it all happen. I must make a change before it's too late. 

One day at a time, right?

I woke up this morning, sick and tired of being sick and tired. I awoke to the realization that if I don't take control today, I won't have the energy to keep on working, to maintain that beautiful garden, to keep getting out into the world, on the water, into the mountains. 

I have everything in life I could have ever dreamt of and then some, and I have been letting it go to waste by letting myself go to waste. I don't want to be sick anymore, or angry, anxious or depressed. I want to live the life I have, and be happy. 

Today is the first day of the rest of my life, and I will make it a good one. I will only eat healthful, nutritious foods, I will do my best not to have a cigarette, and I will smile. 

...

If you're reading this, thank you. For your love and support and kind words and thoughts. I would have never had the strength to keep my head above water the past few years without you. I will get through this, like everything else. One day at a time. 

4/20

I never thought today would be so hard. 14 years ago today was my first day in the field rocking my film SLR capturing the 420 scenes, celebrations and marches for freedom with the crew. Matt if you're reading this, thank you times a million for bringing me along. It's also my 14 year friendiversary with everyone's good homie Clay, and his amazing family. Today is the first year since that I haven't talked to him on this day. I miss him. We all do.

Three years ago was the first Toronto march since that I did not attend. It also happened to be Easter Sunday that day, and my mama didn't want to be alone. She invited me over for Chinese food Easter/birthday dinner. It was the first time in years I'd seen her smile (with teeth!), and the last time I ever hugged her goodbye. If only I had known it'd be the last time I'd see her face to face.

...

Yet as I stand here in this garden, they are with me. My mother lives on in the sunlight that shines bright through the rain. Our brother is heard in the excitement in our voices as we rejoice the emergence of new life. I believe it to be true that we live on in the hearts and minds of those who love us.

Today I am thankful for these memories. Today I am grateful to have my bare feet in the soil, watching my garden grow. For my life and everyone who has been a part of it, I am blessed. 

Bring it Spring

It's been a long, cold and eventful winter, and I'm glad to finally see it's end. At the start of the season I had no idea where I'd be by the end of it, or that we'd get so much snow. Lesson learned, trust the almanac.

Moving out to the valley in the middle of winter was a huge risk for us, but I'm glad we made the move. Though it's not officially spring until tomorrow, we've been busy the past few weeks prepping our garden beds between the last couple winter storms.

The gardens are finally ready for planting. It took a lot of time and hard work to turn our compacted sandy, somewhat grassy yard into a rich, prime place to grow some food. Now that the topsoil and composted manure is turned in,  the grass is weeded out, and the beds are raked into rows, we can begin to sprout our seeds.

A lot of what we have will be started indoors over the next couple weeks, and after last frost the rest can be sown directly into the soil. We have 21 rows total between the two beds to work with, and a few dozen types of seed.

Our landlord was worried at first that we wouldn't have the time to maintain such a large growing space given how much we work, but so far even with shorter daylight hours we've managed to make it happen. It kinda helps that the van has been out of commission for drives to the city the past couple weeks, so I've had to skip out on the landscaping. Spending almost ten less hours a week stuck in traffic has given me more time to focus on other things.

My apprenticeship for instance. When I first started working with metal I wasn't as confident that I'd ever be good enough at it to make a living. But since I haven't been able to go to the city to focus on the landscaping, I've been working full time improving my metal working skills. It's another one of those things I'd never seen myself getting into but I'm glad I did.

Being contractors means setting our own hours, and since my productivity is improving we don't have to spend so many hours at work. We can indulge in occasional journeys down to the river to get our lines wet before work, finish a house, and still have enough daylight hours and energy to go home and play in the dirt.

Our lifestyle out here supports both my longing for a stable home base, and my sense of adventure. For once I'm finally able to get the best of both worlds. I have a place to call home in beautiful surroundings where I can garden and be comfortable, and I'm closer than ever to the wilds. It's taken a while for the reality to set in. Just a few months ago we had no real plan besides making it thorough the winter. And here we are, on the cusp of spring, ready to plant.. putting down roots in the valley. Thank the gods for our home sweet home.

Breaking ground.

It's been a long time since I've had a chance to reestablish Sandy Shores Farm, and I'm stoked for our new location. It's kind of ironic that I'd named the garden long before I even knew I would end up moving to the west. And here I am, on a farm on the river's shore, and our soil here is very, very sandy. Now that we have the first bed turned, we can think about how we will amend the soil.

After the snow melts again that is. It was nice and warm all week, and now we're amidst another big snowfall. We worked a couple hours a day all week to get a good start at establishing the first bed, which is now blanketed in a layer of the white stuff.

Collecting garden tools has been a slow go. All I have so far is the tools I have for work, a shovel and a hard rake. It's amazing what you can accomplish with so little and a lot of motivation. We used a pallet propped on an angle to screen the soil. As we tossed each shovel full of soil at the pallet, the clumps would roll down the slats knocking most of the soil from the grass roots. We could then easily remove the clumps of grass, shake them out and toss them to the side.

It was a long, somewhat tedious process, but every meter of ground we broke into was satisfying. After a few days we could visualize how we would lay out the first bed with our rows. I used my felco snips and a small hand saw to hack back some of the blackberry bramble from the far side of the bed to create a path. We spent the last few moments of daylight each day sitting in our chairs out by the garden to be, watching the sky change colours as the sun sank behind the mountains. What a feeling.


...


I've been trying to finish this post all week. The snow has since melted and we're at it again, building a box for our compost. There's another snowfall warning in the forecast, so we're trying to get done what we can before winter comes back around for it's final blow.

We've been out here for six weeks already. We moved out here when winter was full swing with big dreams for spring. Bit by bit the dreams are becoming our reality. The clocks turn ahead in a little over a week here, which means an extra hour of daylight after work for us to play in the yard.

The weather changes by the moment. When we came outside a couple hours ago it was sunny and warm. The temperature dropped right down and snow is falling up on the hill.


...



We had a thaw and a bit of sun yesterday in between snowfalls, so we grabbed some chicken wire when we went to town. Our landlord saw us out in the yard working, and said the yard looked really nice so far, and gave us the go ahead to start a second bed. We had a bit of an issue there when he said we could do whatever we wanted and then came back around and said we could only dig 8 feet of the far part of the yard. I'm glad he changed his mind.

Since we used our pallet screen to build the compost box, we had to use scraps of wood and the chicken wire to build a new one. We started turning the second bed using the new screen, and though it's taking a little longer, the soil is a lot cleaner. The next step is getting a dump load of compost. Once the snow melts. Again.

Frozen.

Brr.

Apparently, this is the coldest winter the west coast has seen in 24 years. Just my luck I suppose. Last winter it snowed once for a few hours, went down to minus five for a couple weeks, then continued on with the regular program of several months of rain. This winter has been... well, winter. Temperatures dropped below freezing a couple weeks into December, and we've had more snow here than back home. There's still a good foot of snow on the ground, and it likely won't be going anywhere any time soon.

Minus fifteen at night has been the average temperature this week, with highs of minus three if we're lucky. I honestly could not imagine living this winter as I did the last, in the back of a pickup truck. I'm eternally grateful that both myself and my truck mate managed to find warm places to be before the snow hit. I feel for the homeless this year, as most tend to flock to the west in colder months to evade this sort of weather. It's just too bloody cold to sleep outside.

Work is another story. I was lucky enough to find a 6 week indoor contract doing small reno projects for hardware stores. It sure was nice to be working in heated buildings with running water and such. The past couple weeks has been sheet metal work. Still under the cover of a roof thankfully, but given the fact that we're installing the heating system, it's obviously not very warm. Keeping all fingers and toes from freezing is the struggle for my partner and I. Metal pipe isn't exactly easy to work with in the cold. Some days it's warmer outside than it is in the houses we're finishing.

Speaking of houses- I'm really hoping we get this tiny home. We've been having some issues with the homeowner, and I've lost a little faith, but staying positive. If so, we get the keys in a little over a week, at which point we will have to figure out the whole keeping warm thing real quick. There's no gas, only electric. First thing we'd have to acquire is a bed to keep us up off the ground, and lots of blankets. Lots. If the deal falls through we're back to square one, at least we have the option to stay where we're at until the end of March.

Brr...

As I write I'm attempting to warm myself in front of a little 500 watt work light. My toes are numb, and my fingers are getting there. I picked the best time of year to learn this trade... if I can learn to rock it in the colder months, come spring time I might actually be good at it, and enjoy myself too.

Anyways, I'm doing my best to keep up with my writing, and I'm practicing doing so on my phone. If I move out to the boons, my celly will be my only Internet access. The occasional signal will be my only connection to the world, and I hope to make it a good one.

movin' to the country... maybe?

Well, we put a deposit on a tiny home out in the country, down by the river we love to fish. Literally, waterfront property for cheaper than it is to rent a room in downtown Vancouver. It's a decent drive to get out to, but given the general lack of population out in that direction, it actually takes less time to drive to Van than it does from where we are right now. If all goes accordingly, we get the keys in 2 weeks. If not, we have a very tangible representation of what exactly we're looking for in a home, and the sacrifices we're willing to make to have it.

We pulled up to a little white farmhouse on a dead end gravel road out in the country. The sun was setting, the sky was pastel purple and cotton candy pink against the mountains powdered white. Snow geese had congregated on the partially frozen river across the street. There were various bird watchers and photographers pulled off the side of the road to observe them, and the abundance of eagles scouring the river for a meal.

The wind whipped through the valley, blistering cold. As the sun sank back behind the mountains, our smiles grew. This could be our home sweet view. Just imagine what this place would be like in the summer we thought... a dream come true.

How did I even find such a place? By pure chance. I was daydreaming about tiny homes when the apartment hunting topic came up. Neither of us really wanted an apartment. We thought about basement suites to not be in a building, I was even searching for low priced modular homes and if I could swing a down payment. For curiosity sake, I refined my search to farm houses in the valley, and there it was, the only one that was even remotely close enough for us to keep our jobs, yet far enough away to get 'out there'. And cheap. Real cheap.

The posting had been active for 20 days and had a few hundred hits, I thought there's no way it's still available. But I called. The owner answered and rushed me off the phone without mention of it's availability,  and told me to call back later.

I had no expectations after that. When the phone rang I was surprised to say the least. He had a story about the last tenant breaking his trust and that he was being very picky this time around. He had several calls about the house, but didn't like the feeling he had from any of them.

We met yesterday so that I can apply for the place. I'm not sure yet if we will be approved, and I don't want to get too ecstatic until the keys are in hand. But if this house becomes our home, both our lives will be changed.

Thankfully, for this, the coldest winter the west coast has seen in 24 years,  we have been housed in my partner's family trailer. Fully equipped with a decent kitchen, a huge hot water tank, cable TV and the Internet, and a five minute drive to anything we could possibly need. Right in the heart of the city. Shared space with his elders, who often cook us hot meals upon return from a long day of work.

As soon as we get out there, we're on our own. We will have our own kitchen which is a plus, but as of this moment, we have nothing to make use of it. We're starting from scratch. We don't have a stick of furniture to our names, not even a bed.

We will have no huge hot water tank, no internet or cable. Anything we need will require a trip to town. Our cupboards will need to be fully stocked, even our drinking water will need to be supplied from an outside source. It's a good thing we like camping, because besides the roof over our heads, this move will be like camping out full time.

Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself here. I don't even know if it's ours yet. But it's nice to dream. Of a simple life at the end of the road where city lights don't spoil the night sky. Where the mountains are our backdrop and the river is our neighbour. Where wildlife is a more common sight than other humans. It'd be nice.

December.

I've written and backspaced the first paragraph of this post probably a dozen times by now. It's hard. That's about all I can say. December is a hard month for many, for so many reasons. And it's almost over, thank the gods. I didn't think I'd make it through without a complete meltdown, but I'm lucky to have understanding friends and family, and a solid partner at my side. Even as the west coast saw it's first actual winter in several years, I managed to keep it together while everyone's world was seemingly ending, under a blanket of ice and snow. Once you get out on the roads, you can really tell who's from the east coast. We spent Christmas day helping push people out of the snow, and taking on mini winter rescue missions while on our fishing trip.

2016 flew by so fast, I didn't have a moment to panic despite how absolutely crazy, turbulent and ever-changing it has been. Pain, joy, loss, celebration. A balance of extremes. Connections and deaths so unexpected. Lessons learned that I wasn't even aware were in the program. I could have never imagined in January where I'd have ended up twelve months later. Sitting on the stairs of an unfinished basement, awaiting further instruction on how to assemble the section of duct I'm working on, with all the required takeoffs spaced appropriately to accommodate the necessary heat runs.. HVAC. Who knew I'd get into sheet metal. Not me..

Then again, most of this year took me by surprise. What else is new, I guess. Life is an adventure. Expect the unexpected, and all that.

Most of last winter was spent living with my good friend and his dog in a pickup truck in the woods. No running water, no cell service, no power but the truck battery, no heat besides the fire. I spent most of the season laid off with the occasional day of gardening, and eventually found a temporary greenhouse job at a hardware store in the city. Nights were long and cold, but thankfully never lonely.

Spring meant more work for me. My friend and I had to part ways so that I could be closer to the city. I set out with my tent, moved my gear into a storage locker, and worked nearly 7 days a week to get caught up. Between two jobs, one of them with horribly long hours, I burnt out after a few quick months. I was lucky enough to find a couch to crash, and find better work before summer rolled around.

Shortly after turning thirty-one, I met someone whose lifestyle inspired me to change my own. I finally acquired a BC driver's license, and swore off working weekends. Weekends are for adventure, for fun, for church, aka nature. I spent every weekend of the spring camping, traveling, venturing out on the water, and making new friends. My connection with that particular individual ended abruptly, and shortly thereafter, I made an unexpected journey home.

One of my closest friends, a brother so to speak, passed away suddenly in late June. The thought of his passing is still difficult to conceive. The journey home stirred my mind and my spirit on so many levels. I nearly stayed. I miss my friends, my family.. [which extends far beyond any blood-line]. Returning west was one of the most difficult decisions I had to make, but I had a feeling the coast wasn't done with me yet. For now the only cure for my anxiety lies up in the mountains, and along these river banks.

I went back to work until it broke me. My partner [who I thankfully met along the way] finally convinced me to stop working a job that was slowly killing me, and instead, work towards my freedom. We bought a vehicle so that I could find my own direction. I found some contract work that I could schedule around my existing life, and rode it out until I found something even better. Trades.

And so begins another new chapter of my life. One completely unlike any other, and I have no idea how it's gonna go. No pre-determined schedules, no guaranteed paychecks, long-term contracts, everything is day-to-day. Just playing it as it comes. This spring the challenge will be to keep steady work rolling in, find an actual place to live, and start planning for the future. Finding a plot to build a garden would be nice, it's been too long.

While I'm at it, I'll take this opportunity to call myself out one last time this year.. with my focus being scattered all over the map [literally], I've completely lost track of my own physical health. Though I have a better grasp of my mental health now than I have in a few years, my body is suffering. I finally managed this past week to ditch the cigarettes, after who knows how many attempts, and the rest of it is to come. No more crap. Don't need any more junk in my trunk, if you know what I'm saying. Time to offload those pounds I found again that I'd once worked so bloody hard to get rid of. Bring it on 2017, I'm ready.


xo

no stress

pshh yeah right. i'm trying. realllly really trying not to stress. it's literally what's eating me. i've been on my own more or less since high school and i've always been really conscious of my financial situation and staying employed, even when i travel. i'm now in the worst financial state i've ever been in, and i can't really work full-time right now.

i broke the bank, and i broke meself. i can stretch the rest of my income from the spring to get me through til the end of this month, which works perfectly as i need the time to heal. but i pretty much need to find work immediately in July to keep a roof over my head, my shit in storage, and my credit in good standing. oh yeah, and like.. eat and stuff. and i'm having a hard time getting it out of my head so i can just relax and do what i gotta do.

i'm not typically one to worry too hard about a place to live, don't usually have one for long when i get one, evade leases like the plague. for right now though, in order to ensure i have a proper chance at getting my health back in order, i need this. i know it isn't going to last forever and i have no idea how long til it ends but i have to stop over thinking. it is what it is right now. i have a kitchen and running water and electricity that i can make use of in all the ways i need to to getr done.

spent the morning spending what little i have left right now collecting some the tools. i busted out the hand crank juice press and made a delicious mix of veg and fruit juice. probably the most satisfying thing i've sipped in a couple years. i forgot how much i loved this shit. healthy and delicious is a thing! went and grabbed a cheap immersion blender for all the soups, a big ass bucket to grow some sunflowers in, and some mason jars to seal in the freshness. i'm just about set for a relaxing, cleansing month of gardening, patio farming, juicing and healing my wholeness.

yeah i said that.

ultimately i'd like to continue this trend moving forward. i'm kinda done busting ass long hours just to get by. i'd rather just work enough to keep my shit in order, for someone who actually cares, and then spend a lot more time working for myself, and taking care of myself so i can take care of my loved ones and get shit done.

i'd like to make more headway into the lifestyle i've been dancing around all my life. i'm transient, i don't need much, and i love to grow things. next mission: tiny home [on wheels], space to grow, and time to live it. it's really all i need, and all i've ever wanted. oh and someone rad to live it with. that's a thing.

just live. stress free.



i can do this. i gotta write it out to psych myself up, and share it to commit. thanks everyone who reads this shit and kicks my arse into gear. if it wasn't for you cheering me on and checking in i wouldn't be here. literally. imma sit here with my green medicine, and worry about nothing else but the veggie soup stock i got rockin on the stove. work can wait. money can wait. the world can wait. me first. sorry not sorry.


xo

repairing the vessel

ahhh that was a depressing visit to the doc. i'm in a little worse shape than i thought, but overall i'm confident i can fix this. to summarize, i need to give my system a boost and a really good cleaning before my innards decide to stop working completely. gotta cut out all the bullshit for at least a month to let myself recover. stress included.

lucky for me i kinda dropped out on that garden center job. i still have the gardening and hopefully enough incoming from the last couple weeks to float me until July. six days a week burnt me out in 3 months after being laid off [and stressing hard about it] for almost two months prior. i think the experience as a whole since last december threw me into survival mode for so long it wore me out completely. there's no way, right at this moment, i could go back to living out of a pickup truck and working labour jobs every day of the week, and busting ass in the woods that one day i have off. it'd kill me for sure. i need a minute.

sleep is key. i need to do more of it. the sketchy scheduling at the garden center threw me off. some days i'd start at 6am, others i wouldn't get off till ten at night. followed by a long hard day in the sun/rain/whatever landscaping. i need this time of working part time to recover my health so that i can ready myself to make some loot and enjoy what i've got. i'm no good to nobody if i'm dyin' or losing my mind. my full time job for the next 30 days is to get better. or get a damn good start on it at least. i know it's gonna take time, and a full out permanent change to keep me good for a while. i kinda want to stick around n see what happens so.. i'll do my best.

i have to stop worrying. anxiety is my enemy. i have to not worry for a minute that i won't find enough work to cover my ass when i'm ready. i have to not worry about the impermanence of my living situation and embrace the fact that i have what i have right now, and do what i can. i have stop worrying about things i can't change. i have a lot to be thankful for. and look forward to. and enjoy right now. there's no sense in this wrinkle in my forehead.


...

i dug out the old health n fitness blog. it needed to see the light of day again. i had to call myself out.... again. i did so back in december '14 when i realized i was slipping. and i did nothing to fix it. in fact i made it worse. go me. i rock at life. well i did once and i want to again so this be the mission.

got the hand crank juice press ready for the morning. can't locate the extra bits for my blender, and imma have to grab a few things hopefully cheap to get the ball rolling. i'll need a thermal lunch container of sorts to keep ma shiz cold and fresh, a case of mason jars, and a few jugs and bowls for prep. good thing i've done this a few times. sigh.



i choose to live.


xo

sorry. thanks, too..

i don't even know where to start.

to all you amazing people who have been putting up with my ass while i fell to bits the last couple years, giving zero shits.. i'm sorry. and thanks. you know what for, you know who you are. i fucked up huge, i let myself slip.. emotionally, mentally, physically, financially.. i've been in pretty rough shape. well up to me neck in what-the-fucks. i'm sorry for losing my head. i'm still working on getting it back. sorry to the friends and fams i kinda stopped talking to, i felt i had nothing good to say. sorry for pissing and moaning about the inevitable given my choices. thanks for listening. sorry i've been a real fucking tool the past little while. thanks for loving me anyways.

now about that getting back to the better me. or moving forward rather..
i have one hell of a long path to wander.
but i'm on my way.

i know letting go is a big part of this. letting go of people on several levels, places, things... all the things. oh and the feels too. it ain't easy. especially when those people hold big chunks of your heart. especially when those places are/were the worldly homes of those people. especially when those things belong(ed) to them. and fuck the feels. there's that one thing i have no idea how i should feel about.. the truck. miss Sally.

when i used that there trust for the first time in a while, mixed with a little credit (no, a lot).. things got messy. go team. on one hand i know it was stupid to register my vehicle in someone else's name. i had given it away right then and there. on the other hand even if i didn't, i wouldn't be able to take it back just the same. i do have a heart, obviously. this way i have no choice. i let it go. what else can i do? same as the friendship with the person driving her. and the credit that bought her.. an all around unfortunate set of losses. i fucked up. or did i? guess i'll never know.

i had a hard time with my mother's ashes. i know it's just ash but.. i liked having that physical representation of carrying her. as i did all my life. i wanted to take her to the sea shore below the mountains and set her to the wind this past mother's day. two years that weekend. i lost my shit when i couldn't get at her ashes. i lost my shit even harder when i got my things back and found they were gone. i was off in the head for a bit over that one.

and the slanty shanty too. i miss that house. it was the first place i called 'home' here on this transplanting to the west coast. i squatted there a few times before i finally got a room of my own. unfortunately the friend who lived in there previously had passed on shortly after giving me the place. and that was a hard pill to swallow. so was being forced to leave, when it finally became [beyond] uninhabitable. a couple seasons of camping out and the odd couch it took before i could accept the possibility of a place to call mine. here i am, still sort of adjusting.

speaking of which, thanks to the lovely lady who took me in. an angel, in the flesh. for real. she truly lives up to her name. by supposed random coincidence, she saved the day. and i am so incredibly grateful. i have a home base. still do a lot of camping, by choice instead of necessity. kinda nicer that way.

anyhoo.. i owe a pretty big apology to myself too. dah.. i worked sooo freakin hard to get my health back before i moved out west. it's been on a steady down hill slide since shortly after i got here. i became complacent, i got lazy. i stopped giving a shit, really. i'm pretty sure i found about thirty of the eighty pounds i lost, my kidneys ache constantly and my digestive system refuses to move in the right direction at times. it's time to pay better attention to what i'm putting in me, and take better care of myself. again.

somewhere along the line i stopped believing i was worth it. more like i'm just passing time instead of serving a purpose so i just kinda said fuck it. i felt not so worthy of good things, good feelings... not like me i know. i'm sorry to me for feeling that way. time to pull up me socks and get on with it. i still have a panic attack every now and then, slightly less symptomatic of the PTSD the past month or so, most likely due to far less environmental triggers. having a home base helps immensely, even if it's just a shared flat. i feel like i can finally start to get back on my feet. and i'm taking full advantage of what i've got. i will find my health again. i will get my sexy back. i will not only survive this shit, i will thrive. i will not give up.

i'm thankful for this second [or fifth or sixth] chance at making it out here. in a lot of ways i'm not doing all too well, but in the most important ways right now, i'm doing a lot better. shit gets rough but i'm still in love with life. it never ceases to trip me right the hell out, and bless me with the presence of some crazy rad people. hella sweet views too. and i am eternally blessed to finally find some balance... or rather have the balance find me. thank you. so much.



xo

What is this kitchen?

i'm standing in it, and still i'm not so sure.

days don't pass the way they used to. something is different, they don't fly by at work anymore, they drag. every moment takes forever, and there's too much time to wonder what i'm doing. i mean, i know what i'm doing at work, maybe that's the problem. it's too easy. so easy i don't really want to do it anymore. don't get me wrong, i love what i do and who i work with, i appreciate full-time employment which is hard to come by in these parts. but right now, at this point in my life it's not for me.

i've been wondering for a while what i can do about it. take a step this way and that, seeking options, hunting opportunities.. embracing the idea of change. i signed up for driving school to get the next degree of driver's permit, i built a resume for the first time in 11 years. i had a plan. get the job on the powertrain, get a truck, bank half my pay, go to school. a very straight-forward, getr done, five year plan. solid auto-pilot routine to certain success.

now that i'm ready for change, i don't think that's the change i need. at least i came to the realization that i wanted something different, at least i took those forward steps to getting out of the trance i'm in. it's good to have a resume, to know what you can do. and now that i've made peace with the idea of parting with what i'm doing right now, i'm in a perfect state of mind to do what i really want to do. what is that?

to live.

i think.... i think i've been spending too much time thinking. too many numbers, too much paper, adding, subtracting, budgeting for the next pay... all good things to do to keep yourself in line. but i think right now it's the lines i'm having trouble with. my mind won't let me sleep at night, it needs a vacation. and by that i mean, more than a week away to collect my thoughts, i need however long it takes to feel human again.

there's something not sitting right with me right now, about the idea of devoting so much of my time to running on autopilot through my life to save up money to buy myself a sure and determinate future. there's something that seems strange about saving up to pay an institution to teach me things i can learn out there for free. and to struggle to get by, just to save a bunch more money to pay for a sunny vacation to get away from this automated life. as much as i appreciate the travel and the great company i'd have there, that saved money right now can be better spent on an adventure that lasts a little longer than a slotted seven days.

i'm hungry for change, for learning, for doing something new. i long for fresh mountain springs, for the ocean, and the giant red cedar forest and it's delicious air. i long for freedom from the automated environment that i'm currently in, to get my hands dirty in new soil, a new path to wander. i have arrived, i am home, my destination is in each step. the sage vagabond is unretired. time to dust off the rucksack and move along.


...

in the meantime, i have been given some of my time back, some moments.. meaning and deep reflection seep back into each day, every step in the garden, each raindrop that lands on my head. as i prepare for departure i weigh the value and necessity of each possession. what can i do or make or sell to gather some funds for travel and make space in my garage.. what do i need to let go of before i step out of the picture for a while and into a new and changing landscape. it's time to pack that rucksack.. let the countdown begin.

From the Ashes

i've been thinking about writing a book for a long time. it's just hard to begin..

last year i experienced a great deal of self reflection and self-realization. right at the start of the year i was nominated to represent my district at the annual international shareholders meeting. these things are sort of a big deal.. and a once in a lifetime opportunity. i was honoured to be nominated, but it hadn't crossed my mind that i'd actually win.

i had to audition. i had to tell my story.


i suppose that's where it got a little fuzzy with me. where exactly does my story begin? when i started with the company, fresh off the streets? when i ended up out there to begin with? the difficult childhood? the foster home that broke me? the mother i fought with and protected? was it my story to tell? i wasn't sure. i told the bits that i was most comfortable with. that i had been out on the streets, finishing high school, and that i'd borrowed an address and a nice pair of clothes to get that job. i didn't mention my long streak of chemical escapism, or about my sponsor who drove me from town to town so that i could attend narcotics anonymous seven days a week.

i mentioned all the positive bits like how i was more or less raised by the people in this company, their basic beliefs, their moral standards. that i had become who i am today based on my faith in those things.. service, respect and striving for excellence. but i didn't quite mention the part about how my upbringing [or lack thereof] is what taught me how to be patient with intense people and difficult situations, to have empathy for the most haggard of sufferers, to hide my own pain. i only told the happy ending.

and i won.

i suppose i never really gave it much thought after that. before my audition i had a conversation with my manager about someday writing a book. i wasn't too sure what kind of book she meant, be it a story of my life type book, a self-help guide for the socially impaired, or both. but there was one thing keeping me from writing.. my mother.

it was never just my story. it was hers too. a story i felt i could never tell while she was still living. not out of shame, or even guilt, but out of fear that i would break her suffering heart to speak the words for all to hear. to tell the real truth. it was never my intention to hurt her with those words but liberate her... from the guilt she carried of not being there for us when we were younger. to let her see that i never carried spite for her because of our situation, i never could. but i could never be sure how she would take it. i promised i'd start my book as soon as she passed. be it a year or a decade from now, or sometime after i retire.

since then, the story changed.

well, maybe not the story itself, more so my perspective of it.

her life wasn't all tragic. she and her siblings had to deal with other kinds of abuse and neglect throughout their childhood. she had her forms of escapism, she had to make her very own mistakes. but she also had her own share of crazy adventures, good laughs, and big dreams. she was intelligent, creative, inspiring, empathetic, and a really good friend. she had the right answers to the strangest questions, and a faith in many things unseen. most of these are fading memories of the people she knew back when, some my brother and i were lucky enough to catch glimpses from time to time.

i think i'm ready to write this story down. and share it. that sharing part i'm a kind of nervous about, not that i've ever cared much for others' opinions of me. still a little fuzzy on the starting point, maybe there isn't one. maybe it won't be a chronological book but a collection of random memories that serve as little lessons or deep learnings. maybe i'll just keep it here, in the uncertain electronic media that is the interweb. or perhaps someday i'll collect the best of the best and bound their words to the world of ink and paper.

there's so many little stories and big ol' books written by others about their lives that have impacted me greatly, and taught me about worlds i could have never understood without their teachings. that have taught me things about myself i never took a moment to even realize. their stories helped me to see myself and my own life through more careful eyes, and inspired me to be better to myself. maybe something i have to say can do that for someone else. or maybe it will help me to mentally digest my experiences just to write them out. either way.. it's time get started. it's time.