Coulda Woulda Shoulda

" In Flanders fields the poppies blow       Between the crosses, row on row, ." When I was eight years old, I carried the Canadian flag in the Remembrance Day parade for our Brownie unit. I can't really remember when I realized the importance of November 11 but I can only imagine that somewhere between learning about that day at school and taking part in a very solemn ceremony that it must have been ingrained in my head to always mark this day.    "That mark our place; and in the sky    The larks, still bravely singing, fly" I remember growing up, the assemblies at school, always with a older veterans, in those days many from both World Wars, would attend. When I got to high school, I remember not being able to fathom how these decorated men and women, had once been my age, had once stood up and fought, and had made these decisions during the same years I would try to decide which route to take from En...

As I was driving to the grocery store today I was taken aback by the beauty of the mountains along my view.  We've been here for over a year now, working and studying away, pleasantly surprised by the mild weather, not so surprised (or enthused) about the expenses here in the most beautiful & expensive end of the country. It feels like home, like we've been here forever. And although I've spent a good chunk of this 'winter' outdoors, spring is making it feel even more like a renewal. But even with all this comfort and homey-ness abound there is still one sight I'll never get used to. Those glorious mountains. And even as the thought crossed my mind, "Wow, do they ever look pretty today" I had to correct myself. I mean, do these suckers ever NOT look pretty? Snapped during Vancouver 2010 ...... but they looked like this today... minus the cute boy in green

When I was training for my first half marathon over a year and a half ago, I dreaded the early morning Sunday run. I whined and complained how could it be POSSIBLE that I rise early and head out to face over 10kms? I used to do some of the long runs on  my own in the afternoon, just so I could get a bit of a lie in on the token day of rest. I was thinking of those times this morning, as I eagerly woke at 730 to grab a quick breakfast of salad (great way to start the day: ruffage but doesn't fill you up to the point you can't go and exercise right away) and a hot water and lemon before I set off to meet my friend A to the P and head out on our 30km Sunday morning bike ride. It's a little tradition the two of us started, mostly because she has to work at 11:30, so the only time she could do it was bright and early. We head down the Shell Road path towards the water, chatting away and catching up about our weeks. We managed through the woods just before the waterside, ...