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A battle is on between spring and winter – both are hunkered down and ready for a good fight. First up, Spring works her sunny magic – turning the tips of leaves bright green with new life, purple faces of crocuses appear overnight. Then she pulls a surprise punch with a sudden dash of warm sunny heat that says ” I should be sitting on a patio somewhere with a tropical cocktail in hand”.
first faces of spring
Next, Winter bounces back with a left that says he isn’t about to bow down so easily, he has his pride to protect. Two days of chilly hurricane winds send people back inside to their cups of tea and good books. Eager gardeners groan with impatience. Despite the official change of season, thin layers of morning frost are thrown clinging to the windows of cars, reminding us who’s boss.
sand, sea, sky
And the fight goes on.
Right now it’s 8:15pm and the sky is a bright grey – thems a warring colour, as both sides tug-a-war for first place. The result is a surreal light with a glowing darkness that makes you confused as to the time of day.
I work with children and so I am used to these kinds of silly games. Despite my opinion, the stakes are high for the two involved. I know it’ll all turn out in the end as it should, so for now, I will sip my tea and wait this one out.
Stand up if you like cheese. great.
Now, throw yourself down a steep hill after an eight pound wheel of Double Gloucester cheese. no?
I don’t blame you. I mean, I love cheese don’t get me wrong, but there are some things not worth the medical bill.
For 200 years folks in Gloucester England have been doing just that. Throwing themselves down a hill after cheese. I can’t help but wonder if what likely started as a bunch of drunk dudes’ bar challenge has now become an historic event. Only in England. But word has it that they might cancel this May’s death by cheese event. I doubt people will let that happen – I mean this is history we’re talking about people – surely it must be a meaningful and relevant event if its been happening for 200 years – surely there’s no need to doubt the value or cultural importance of this grand occasion.
So whether or not the officials bless the sacred event – let’s all consider incorporating a little cheese into our active lives – for history’s sake!
For the uninitiated, dating back to at least the 1800s, the Cooper’s Hill Cheese Rolling and Wake is an annual Gloucestershire event which involves hordes of fearless competitors chasing a weighty 8lb Double Gloucester cheese, handmade by Gloucester cheesemaker Diana Smart, down a death-defyingly-steep hill.
The slope on Cooper’s Hill in Gloucester, the eponymous setting for the world-famous event, is in fact so steep that very few contenders manage to stay on their feet, instead tumbling head-over-heels down the hill in a desperate effort to catch the dairy prize – which travels at approximately 70 miles per hour.
Another extended trip to the big city has left me re-charged with FnF time (friends ‘n family), a little more broke and a few pounds heavier (which was soooo worth all the yam fries and sushi I ate). While I wouldn’t have traded my trip home for anything (well… maybe a date with mr. depp) I found myself – again – feeling displaced in the city I have always called my own. Now, I am a guest in my own home, and I have to say it feels weird. This nouveau small town bumpkin now drags her safari printed luggage between couch surfs, with eyes peeled for payphones since this hick has no cell, and asks transit officials for directions on the new skytrain lines? Wow, I really have gone small town!!! ouch.
Amongst the hustle and bustle I would find my thoughts floating back to my small town life. How the first thing I do when I step off the plane is to breathe in air that is so fresh it goes down in delicious cool, clean gulps. My comfort finds itself in the familiar faces – the tall lady in a ball hat, who I pass every time I walk Bella – both our dogs bark and she always apologizes with a smile; Bob, who collects the recyclables around town and who invites me to vegan potlucks at the senior home; the smiley male and the never smiley female cashier at the Coop, and of course the waving drivers. These have become my new comforts, the characters that make a place a home.
The electric vibe of the city, the constant buzz, is something I am very familiar with and can excite me, but it can also drain me. If Vancity pulses, then Masset flatlines. And while I smirk at this comparison, it is within this silent space that there is a place I call peace. The peace I felt as a kid playing in the woods behind my house – fully present, content, peaceful.
In the city I feel like I define myself by all the things I do. This newer me no longer feels compelled to answer that question with…Well.. I am subbing at the local schools, finishing my masters, volunteering here, making this…. While I am no longer satisfied with that response, without a new answer, I feel lost… in Wonderland, haunted by the caterpillar’s trippy question “Whoooo R Youuuuu?” After some time squirming and re-shifting my perspective, I have a new answer that is much more simple. Who am I?
Happy… and peaceful.
xoxoxo
Oh yes! I wanted to share a few of the little faces that welcomed me back upon arrival. You’ll have to come visit to see more 😉
I am still in a daze from the biggest party I have ever seen this city throw. Monday arrived and I must have got a hole in my wallet because there was no cash left, and strangely enough, I woke up dreaming of drinking water. There were Olympic pins on my clothes and I sounded like I had smoked 3 packs of cigarettes… no don’t panic, I didn’t pick up any bad habits, other than the fact I replaced my typical “yay!” with “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
I expect to walk out onto the streets of Yaletown to find piles of garbage, unidentified persons in hockey jerseys passed out under trees, and loose flags in the wind. But it is almost like nothing happened – a clean city, more quiet than usual, people on their way to work (mind you the glazed look in their eyes tells a story other than 8 hours of sleep).
Was it a dream? Did our golden boy really seal the historic deal against the US? Did I really high-five police in the streets? Did we really win the most Winter Olympic medals ever? Did the Bay really pull off a cool line of digs? wow.
With every great party comes the tab at the end of the night, and I’d rather not think about it (or how we’re going to pay it off) right at this moment. Instead – here are a couple videos…. because if pictures are worth a thousand words – these are worth a million!
From my pal Chris Wheeler who works for HelloBC, and who doesn’t love a flashmob!
yay Canada! I mean.. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Canada! █ ♥ █
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