So as a Canadian living aboard I feel it is my patriotic duty to propagate Canadian culture wherever I go. So this year when deciding what holiday treats to whip up for my favourite Hungry Ghost Baristas and coworkers, I settled on the Canadian Christmas Classic, Butter Tarts. I packaged up each tart in a holiday box accompanied by a Christmas note (and explanation of the Canadianisms of this truly festive dessert). They were loved by all who received them. Merry Christmas! Continue reading “Canadian Butter Tarts”
So we took along our fancy camera with all the intentions in the world of capturing our trip home with it. However, we got too caught up savoring the people and events of being home that the only remnants of our visit are pixelated iPhone snapped photos. I would be more bummed if it wasn’t a testament to just how wonderfully full and heart filling our time at home was.
We were honored to celebrate the most exceptional bride and groom. The wedding wound up being perfectly wonderful evening of catching up with old friends, and on top of that making some pretty spectacular new ones (Y’all come visit now!). As for the bride and groom, these two are a truly remarkable couple. They have been together since early high school and are seriously going to kill it as husband and wife. We love them. So much so that after the wedding night I lost my voice for the remainder of our trip because I talked, laughed and cheered way, way too much.
It has become a running joke that since moving to New York I have become incredibly patriotic and pro-west coast island living. Friends have even gone so far as to dare me to go a length of time without harkening back to the beauty and sheer awesomeness of where I grew up (I always fail). Jay has chastised me for routinely google searching images for “Vancouver Island Scenery” and showing them off in every NYC bar, dining establishment and house party ever. He goads me that New Yorkers love New York so I best be careful with my belligerent bragging of the awesomeness of my island home. Well New Yorkers can have their New York, this article chronicles the essence of why I love island life.
Everyone: “You’re from Caaaanada, you must be so used to the snow”
Me: “West coast Canada, as in I can count how many white Christmases I have had on half a hand”
Sadly, I do not live in an igloo nor do I inhabit a ice covered tundra. I am from a mild, verdant island off the west coast of Canada, where our temperate climate saves us from extreme heat and extreme cold. In essence it is perfect. So with that in mind this happens to be my first true winter. Previously, my skin had never felt well below freezing and I have never had need for Sorrel Boots and parkas. Where I hail from a light fall coat and toms constitute winter wear. Again I reiterate it was perfect.
Now I have experienced winter and I will give it that is is whimsically pretty and the soft snow falling over the city streets is as serene as it is cinematically perfect. However, the practical side of skin nipping cold air, pragmatic (not cute) winter attire and trekking through snow drifts to the subway is less than glamourous. For example, there was one afternoon during the polar vortex that Jay and I tried to set out for an adventure and made it around the block before trudging back to the sanctity of our heated apartment. The air burned our lungs and the frigid temperatures soaked in so deep that Jay’s hips throbbed. However, that being said if you asked Jay about winter in the city you would get a much rosier response than I am detailing. So I guess like beauty, tolerance is also in the eye of the beholder.
All gripping aside thankfully winter isn’t actually as terrible as I had imagined it to be and at the very least I have now earned my winter badge of honour. Now perhaps I can consider myself a true Canadian. However I haven’t done it alone. I owe my survival thus far to my step dad (an Ontario native) who sprung to buy me hearty winter boots to keep my toes warm and the Michaels Kors down jacket I nabbed on a ridiculously great sale that keeps the rest of me cozy.
I am sitting here on my mom’s couch (American Translation: Sofa), not even having left the west coast yet, already going through a bout of recurring homesickness. I will miss the people and I will miss the beauty. However, during our time here I have come to realize just how spectacular and uniquely special it is that Jay and I get to call two very dynamic, wonderful cities home. I am in love with New York for all the bustle and activity it offers that Victoria doesn’t, while I cherish Victoria for all the charm, relaxed island pace and warmth that New York misses.