Chocolate Porter

When a local Vancouverite tells you to go topside, you go topside. I thank Uncle Steve for helping me pick out my outfit this morning. That light leather jacket wouldn't have done shiiiiiit up there! It was windy, rainy, and freezing. I think this is what BC is usually like, I'd just been lucky up until this point. The ferry ride was beautiful, though I enjoyed the scenery from inside on a lower level for the remainder of the trip.

Once we docked on Victoria Island, I hopped on the bus and linked up with an old friend. We toured around a few breweries, (Phillips - where I fell in love with their chocolate porter; Vancouver Island - where we enjoyed some pretty hefty tasters). We got pizza at the Famous Original, checked out the beer selection at some other trendy places around town such as, The Drake, and a few others that are slipping my memory at the moment. Needless to say, I got drunk AF and ended up crashing at my friends place. Here are some pics that I found on my phone the next morning :)

Taste testing at Phillips Brewery.

A blurry post-taste-testing shot of the Vancouver Island Brewery.

I did, in fact, feel beautiful.

#VancouverHumour

"Nobody cares, work harder."

"You are so cute, I want to punch you in the face."

"I'm actually a mermaid."

"Namaste, bitches."

Old cobblestone roads, rich red brick buildings, & baby blue eyed skies.

Marine mosaic.

My new fav brewski.

A Celebration Of Life

Today we celebrated the life of Eileen Burford (Maiden name "Steen") who was a cousin to my granny, Evelyn Chambers (Maiden name "Trueman"). Eileen and I once spoke briefly on the phone while I was visiting my cousin Mary Beth in Huntington Beach in July 2014, but I had the pleasure of hearing plenty of stories. She had a gift for remembering birthdays and she was known to call up friends and family to play & sing "Happy Birthday" and "You Are My Sunshine." She loved generously, laughed heartily, and lived fully.

It's clear to me now, why I felt such a strong pull to this place, and these people I'm so lucky to call family. 

I didn't come out here with the intention of "finding myself". I genuinely just wanted to spend some time with friends, family, and the wilderness. But in doing so, in taking the time to get to know my relatives and where I come from, I'm starting to make sense of who I am. And when I say, where I come from, I guess I mean who I come from.

My Granny was a strong willed, high energy, loud, optimistic, in charge woman. She was always smiling, laughing, cracking jokes, teasing, delegating, and getting things done. She baked an incredible lemon cake, drank a lot of tea, and enjoyed the occasional Kahlua and milk on ice. But she was tough, and she was kind of a closed book. We didn't talk much about relatives or her younger years back in Ireland; Granda was more of a story teller. 

So for the longest time, my Granny was the only female family member I had on my dad's side.

I think I've always thirsted for more strong female influences in my life; women I could relate to on a more intimate level; the kind of personal connection you can only get through family, because you physically share the same blood. 

Not to say that I don't already have a strong community of women back home, but the more the merrier, right? 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that, I found something I didn't even know I was looking for: more women I can relate to. 

Women who've won medals, women who love fearlessly, women who've overcome obstacles with grace and strength; women who's wrinkles they've earned, who's laughter is pure, and who's spirits are as wild as the mountains themselves.

Through meeting these women, I'm starting to understand that the blood coursing through my veins actually has a lot more to do with who I am, than I may have realised.

Green Snake

I had a dream about a massive green snake that was in a tree outside of someone’s home in my neighbourhood. I observed as a woman was bitten by the snake’s second head which was located where it’s tail should have been. Then young girls started walking towards it and allowing themselves to be bitten by the snake in the same way sleeping beauty walks towards the spinning wheel, almost like they were on a conveyor belt, but willingly, as if their curiosity for the pain others were experiencing were enough to send them into the face of death. 

Then I was on a bus. Sitting at the back. The teacher came on, announced everyone could dismount except I. He lectured me on my promiscuous ways and forbade me from engaging romantically with anyone. I just don’t remember if this was before or after I’d invited a boy over to meet my family for dinner, he attended but left half-way through, unimpressed with what we were having for dinner.

On the road again… Headed to Vernon. Again, the view was out of this world. One moment we’d be looking at clear blue skies, the next we’re under a bridge meant to prevent traffic from being affected by potential avalanches. Apparently the highway we were on is casually referred to as the highway to hell. Without proper snow tires, you wouldn’t be covered by insurance had you gotten in an accident on this road. The speed limit is also 120km/hr, so there’s that.

We weren’t long at the hotel before Joy’s sister, Valerie, arrived and we got into exchanging stories about love, life and family. We all went out for dinner and the conversation continued. I took a risk and asked if this group of avid skiers had ever been known to smoke and ski. I mean, they grew up in the 60’s & 70’s in British Colombia.. a part of me just assumed. But no, not their jam - though we did have a great chat about weed culture and the future of it’s use medicinally and recreationally.

We grabbed some beers, headed back to the hotel, I went for a swim, and here I am - typing away in the lobby with a mask on my face while Steve and Joy snooze away in the hotel room. Speaking of which, I’m going to do the same.