Sebastian visits Hinterland dressed at forest gnome. 

Getting into the Holiday Spirit

We're walking the fine line of Christmas and the ambiguous yet-to-be-properly-defined holiday that we'd rather celebrate. We're not Christians and as parents we're crusading against over-consumption and abundant materialism, so Christmas is a frustrating time and a delicate one. We try not to be too overbearing with the Christmas lovers in our life, as long as their enthusiasm doesn't cross too heavily into our minimalistic values, as long as they don't muddle our more important parenting tactics.

But we have a homemade tree, we have lights, we have an advent calendar which a dear friend made and leant us this year. We have candles, cards, ornaments, stockings. These are nice things. Almost all the things we  have we've made, or a friend has made, or a relative has given us. Everything has a story and Sebastian always wants to hear it. 

Somehow Sebastian knows all about Santa Clause. He doesn't know what he does exactly but he knows a lot considering we haven't gone there. This year I think we're procrastinating making some holiday decisions, just enjoying the season. But we can all agree that Christmas time is going to be a constant and relentless attempt to avoid consumerism and materialism. This year I don't want to get hung up on fighting anyone. I just want to enjoy the season. December is my most important month. It's my birthday month, and it's a time when I feel the most connected to the earth, and it's a time when I absolutely cherish living here. I've travelled home to be on the Coast every single year, no matter where I am because I have my own private traditions with this place in December. This year, family-wise, there will be lots of winter walks, hopefully some snowshoeing, lots of lights, and lots of crafts. 

Holiday Crafts

Most Decembers I'm fairly unimpressed with the Christmas season. I skirt along it, half-in half-out. This  year I was more prepared. I have more energy this year than I can remember in a long, long time and Sebastian is at a decent "activity" age. I combined my procrastination for creative projects with the holiday spirit. I had a head-start, too, somehow, even as my second-to-last grad school semester wound down, or should I say amped up in deadlines and such demands. We've had a few days of "waiting for the telephone woman!" (which is Sebastian's sweet way of saying we've been without proper phone and internet for half the month and have spent at least twenty hours in the last two weeks cooped up waiting in vain for the f$*&@#$# phone technicians to arrive... haaa...) which meant we had a lot of craft time. It started with tree ornaments. I wanted a really nice, porcelain-type DIY dough, not the yellow grit of salt dough, but when the day came to make them I of course didn't have the internet to look up an alternative dough recipe so salt dough it was. It turns out salt dough doesn't take an imprint very well, so ornament day turned into an exercise in medium. We scoured the house for anything we thought might make a more aggressive imprint than, say, lace or feathers. The winners were a throw-back eighties Tupperware lid, a toy Sheriff's badge, a rubber doily and Bananagram tiles. The thrills of being without internet! Next time I would use this dough.

We, and by we I mean I, also felted some balls. I have to admit, felting has always creeped me out for irrational reasons, and beyond that I don't love the aesthetic. But I wanted to try make a garland and thought I should give felting a try. I do like the look of balls and bought some really nice angora wool with kind of a pink, red and white blend. I haven't assembled the garland yet and have a few more balls to make. It's pretty time consuming, another good one for waiting for the phone guy. There has also been lots of cookie making. Rosemary lemon shortbread is my favourite. 

Morning Snow

We woke to our first snowy December morning today, and very likely our only one of the year. Sebastian and I had planned a forest hike for today before we woke, so it was extra exciting. By the time we had our wool and rubber boots on it was already slushy. But we're not far from the mountain. You're never far from the ocean or the mountain on the Coast, and sometimes I forget that. There's a head trail by our house and we were in the forest on a steep incline to the mountain in about ten toddler minutes. I have to say, Sebastian was the trouper of the two of us. My feet were cold as usual, but he wanted to "keep going up!" Eventually we veered off and found the park off the country road. There's always snow in the mountains here, and I've long pronounced this year winter of the mountain. So it begins!

Imagination

Sebastian's imagination has leapt lately. He went from mimicking to roaming through a whole private world in what seemed a matter of days. He tells stories. One night over dinner he told us that I didn't give birth to him but that he came from goats. He's friends with the sky, water and mountains and also fireworks (of course). He's apparently going backpacking with his friends, first outside then upstairs. 

He seems to have a reoccurring dream about "cars in the balls!" and he talks a lot to his baby dolls and stuffed animals and sometimes they seem to talk back.

Around the time this started happened, he also became more aware of something almost etherial. He mentioned people around us matter-of-factly when we were alone. Like, "Someones in the kitchen, Mama" and "Who's behind us?" when we're walking alone up the stairs from the beach, or "There's a guy in the bathroom waiting." One day a guy with face tattoos came in and played Duplo with him. Other times our neighbour, kind of  strange and visually compelling man, is apparently in the house and Sebastian has nicknamed him "wormy guy" (just waiting for that one to slip out face-to-face).  

I never assumed he was using his imagination. When he uses his imagination you can see his mind working, he's transparent or overly focused on being casual. When he mentions these people he's stating fact. It's been a bit chilling at times. I've caught myself investigating rooms to make sure no one has broken into our house. I've asked him for details. 

But I guess it doesn't surprise me. I'm sensitive to spirits, too and so is Alex. When Sebastian was born the apartment felt crammed with spirits to the point where I would have constant nagging dreams about them, only to wake and find myself still with them. They were there for Sebastian, curious and sometimes overbearing. When I asked them to leave they left. 

It doesn't surprise me because I know a lot of kids are like this. A few of my friends have chilling stories from when their kids were Sebastian's age. I talk about it with people, but the more he overhears the more he's aware of it, and I think that dilutes it. 

November

Since I last wrote we've celebrated my dad's 60th birthday with a little bash here at our house, I've sat in front of the computer for approximately a thousand hours writing a novella, and Alex has started waking up at five thirty a.m. for some quiet writing time. I think that about covers November!
No wait! There's more. Alex built us a bookshelf, which might sound insignificant but for two writers who haven't unpacked all their books for nearly a decade it was a moment to cherish. It turns out we don't have that many books. Huh.

The two dads in my life. 

"GeeGee Archie" (aka my grandpa)

We jammed. 

Empty bookshelf number one. 

Empty bookshelf number two.

You know winter has arrived when you're dressing 

your rabbit up in doll clothes for "fun."

November and the farms stands are still full. I wasn't sure what to expect, this being our first winter here where we are really dedicated to supporting local business and buying local organics. Our garden is minimal. We had our first frost here two nights ago, and some tiny cilantro plants and the arugula were left uncovered. We have a meagre crop in the "hot house" but really, it's not much. How quickly crop vanishes. But the kale and chard will have no problems (except for the slugs) and the garlic is in the ground for next summer. But the farms offer all the minimals of winter: eggs, cured onion, potatoes, herbs, leeks, beets, turnips, carrots, dark greens and so many beautiful squash. Also, the best pickles ever. Occasionally a treat surfaces, like ground cherries (in November?!). We can have a meal night after night with dried stores and these offerings. This is the first time in my life where I've understood how to sustain mostly off local food. We still rely on grains, four, oatmeal, cheese galore, and the occasion non-local meat, but if you can pair this with most anything from the farms you have legitimate meal day after day. From the goods in the picture above we got: potato and leek quiche, roasted root vegetables with kale chips, and sweet pumpkin pie. Not bad, really. More on this later.

We spent the morning in the rain. We're trying to embrace it. Sebastian and I walked into town for art class, wandered around the streets in the downpour. Sebastian doesn't mind the rain in his full-body rain suit and often trudges along saying, "I like the rain. I like it. I like the rain." But I haven't been as patient, not when the stroller is pooling and we have a long narrow-shouldered highway to make our home on. We headed down to the kiosk for our last burritos and tacos of the season, stood under the patio with the dock folks-- the island workers (Alex amongst them), the water taxi driver, sailboat dwellers, dock kids (Sebastian and friends)-- and watched the rain come down. Something of a camaraderie. We took a walk on the dock, watched the big fishing boats rock, no one really coming or going. I remember now why we love cafes, and how clothes and walls grow mouldy (but not this year, dammit), and that we still have never bought an umbrella. 

The garden is more or less tucked away for the season. We have one lonely raised bed half-full of chard and kale that will supplement throughout the winter, half a dozen beets stored in the ground somewhere and garlic planted for next summer, but that's about it. Everything else is covered in maple leaves. We have been collecting leaves like we're hobos and they're beer bottles. Leaves are a hot commodity for us, with only a few cherry trees in the yard and the rest acidic cedars. We've been dragging dozens of bags home throughout the month, and now the compost is full, the beds are covered, and we're happy to know our hard work will finally extend into seasons upon seasons as we stay in this house and build up the yard. We're planning for spring and summer gardens already, shovelling grass over for new garden beds, dog-earing and circling pages in the seed catalogue (well, maybe that's just me). In the meantime, we'll be collecting rain (and hoping all the Easterners protection from the storm today!). 

My new rain shoes and a pathetic brussels sprout plant.

Goodbye lawn, hello winter garden.

The cabin, empty and cold. 

Rock gardens and raised bed.

Little lion in mama's sweater after a long night walk in the rain.

Sneak peak at a halloween lion.

First day with the "wall off." 

What adventures will this boy have while we are sleeping? 

Winter Hares

Self Portrait with Rabbit

Evening

We had a great visit to Ottawa and Montreal this month. It was surreal to be back in Montreal and totally comfortable and familiar to be in Ottawa (family helps with that, I suppose). Sebastian was constantly doted on (subsequently rather difficult to deal with upon returning to BC, mostly in need on constant Mommy cuddles and waking up throughout the night) and Alex and I enjoyed being childless for a lot of the week. The highlight of the trip for me was definitely walking through Montreal, wandering around all the old neighbourhoods that had such a punch of nostalgia, and seeing the beautiful faces of old friends. It's reassuring to know that even after being away for a year and a half, it's pretty simple to show up. I forgot to take many Ottawa pictures (Alex's parents have approximately 1000 photos on a disk, barreling our way via Canada Post), but here are some Montreal highlights:

Sebi's morning in Montreal started with a chocolate croissant and a tiny steamed milk in an espresso cup at Blanch de Blanch. Petit Henri!

Fabienne and her beautiful zoetrope.

Alex, Sebi, Julia & Emmy. Oh, and Restaurant John 2.0, best reno ever. 

We broke into our old place! Well, sort of. 

Saint Henri

Rue Sainte Philomene, where it all went down.

Sebastian's first Ottawa Halloween pumpkin carving. Took much convincing to get that hand in there.

The best way to come home after a long trip on a chilly October day is to light a fire. The stillness of the house quickly gives way and it's like having a wild creature take care of the strangeness of an unlived-in house while you crawl into bed and have a nap. It's good to be home.

Ah, September. I love how it ushers in transition like nobody's business. Out with the old. I'm back in the masters program now, which means commuting in the city a couple days a week, reconnecting with writer friends and constantly reading and writing. It was a bit of a challenging month because extra responsibilities at the kiosk fell to me right when I needed them the least, and when everyone (myself definitely included) was burnt out from an intense and adrenaline-heavy summer. I've spent the month training staff to take over some of my jobs and just letting go of the uncontrollable.
School so far has been really inspiring and stimulating. I'm studying with Annabel Lyon and Andreas Schrodder this year, two writers who I respect and admire a lot. There's momentum for sure. I've started my thesis book and feel like I'm writing endless pieces on top of that. It feels good to be immersed in it again. I think the intensity of the summer has taught me a lot about how to charge into the work I need to do, and to conserve energy where need be. Whoever thinks non-creative work doesn't overlap into the arts is foolish. It all lends to each other if you let it. I was given a decent sum of money from the university and the BC Arts Council to keep on with it, which was much appreciated, and how a masters  degree should be I think.
The only bad thing I can say about September is that I had a bad fall the other night. I fell down our hardwood stairs with water glasses in my hand, and I bashed my back up and the glasses broke in my hand. I went into shock and was hysterical for too long until my parents had to help us at midnight. We're still cleaning blood from the furniture and finding shards of glass throughout the house, and I'm pretty bruised and sore.
Otherwise the month has been mostly home-bodied. We've had some good dinners on the beach with a fire and friends, a big surprise birthday party for a good friend, house guests, lots of good meals and time outside. Losing daylight rapidly has such an effect in this house, beachside with big bright windows. We haven't quite figured out how to function properly when the sun goes down. We don't even have enough lamps to function in the huge open room on the main floor, so we often find ourselves upstairs in bed, reading or talking way too early. When the moon is bright, we know it. When it's dark we know it. There haven't been clouds in the sky, such a strange phenomenon here, and I feel like we've been at the mercy of nature a little. But we have three cords of wood under the deck ready for the change in the season and a winter garden underway in the yard.

tobacco in bloom