The Smallest Things

It is rarely the big decisions that affect us. It is, more often than not, the little ones.

We sit there sweating over the list of pros and cons, about whether we should live in the country or the city, buy the Apple or the PC, take this job or that one. We fret, and agonize, and come to terms with what we think, and then fret some more, and change our minds, and then, finally, we take a big deep breath and come downstairs one morning and announce what we are going to do. And we think it is so big, and important, and monumental, and earth-shattering. And it isn’t. Not one little bit. Everything changes and then - nothing changes.

It is never the move to the country or the decision to have kids that change everything. It is the dinner parties. The little things that you didn’t think twice about. It is the girl you sit beside on the bus without even noticing - the bus ride you took on a whim.

The big things, it turns out, are in the small things - the ones you can neither prepare for nor plan.

And what should we do about that? Nothing, it seems. Mostly, I think, it means we should relax and go with the flow or, better, with our hears. Our hearts know the way, and the trick, it seems, is to follow our hearts. Because if we do, everything will work out all right in the end. And if it doesn’t? Well, you know the answer to that. That just means it’s not the end.

("Small Decisions," Stuart McLean)

Finding comfort in these words as my life tiptoes towards massive change. This is one of the things I love most about literature: it's unparalleled ability to speak directly to the circumstances of your life whatever they may be. The importance of small things should not be lost on me, a lover of all things tiny, like these bitty blue flowers that were growing in Cape Breton last time I was there.

When words fail

I was talking with someone at work tonight about vacation spots and favourite places to travel. When I told him that my favourite place in the country is Cape Breton he asked me to describe it, and to be honest I could hardly do it. It's green and foggy and rainy. The air is salty and the landscape is often rocky. It is just exquisitely beautiful. Whenever I think about Cape Breton I always think about boats and rough waters and weather-worn wooden buildings. And, yes, I do realize that not every part of Cape Breton is like that and the weather is not always damp (there were beautifully sunny days while we were out there too), but those are the things I think of and the things that draw me to the island. But there is something about describing places that stumps me. There is a quality to each place, I suppose you could call it an "aura" or an "energy", but that just sounds so hokey, that is completely indescibable. You have to go there to experience it. That's one of the things I love about at and photography. I think visual arts somehow manage to capture bits of the indescribable. Obviously you can't smell or feel the air, but the colours of a place, the shapes of the buildings, the lay of the land are all so important and are often captured so much more effectively in visual mediums. I love words, but sometimes they simply fall short.

The Power of Suggestion

Several days ago I read an article in the Travel section of the newspaper about driving the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island. Ever since then I have been longing to go back there. Every time I look for pictures to post on here I start with the pictures from the last trip we took to Nova Scotia. There is something about Nova Scotia that draws me in. There are very few places that I typically get longings to visit again. Nova Scotia (especially Cape Breton), Toronto, Ireland, and Budapest, that's about it. I've been other places that I loved, but those are the places that I want to visit again and again.

Anyway, I took this picture the last time I was in Nova Scotia. Specifically this is taken in Baddeck which is right on the Bras d'Or. We were there early enough in the summer that it was typical Maritime weather: windy and rainy. It made for some spectacular pictures though. Sigh. I will go back one day.

Jonesing for Fall

In the past week or two a lot of the fashion blogs I read have had a post about how they are starting to look forward to fall. It's that point in the summer where you begin to feel like you have worn everything in your closet a million times already and you just want something new. I always have a hard time investing in summer clothing. The summer is just so short here that it seems pointless to by a bunch of adorable summer dresses (no matter how much I want them) when I'm only going to be able to wear them for maybe a couple of months. So when you add that to my budgetary concerns this summer, I really have run out of interesting summer outfits. Plus, it is getting to the point where (at least for me) I am getting tired of the heat. What can I say, I'm a winter baby? Although, I don't really like the dead cold of winter either. Anyway, I too am starting to long for the cooler days of fall. Jackets, cardigans, scarves, boots, hats...there are just so many exciting things in fashion for cooler weather.

For me the dawning of fall also means the beginning of school. It's my senior year at college and I'm excited. I'm one of those weird people who actually love school. Seriously. I get excited pretty much every year. I am currently eagerly and impatiently anticipating the release of the fall textbook lists so that I can find out what I'm going to be reading this semester. I can't wait to spend a ridiculous amount of money on new books. The weight of a stack of textbooks, the way new books look and smell...ah, heaven! I could do without the hefty price tag though. And then there is the excitement of starting new classes. Those precious weeks at the beginning of the semester before the first round of papers is due when learning is still exciting and not stressful fill me with excitement. I'm also happy because this year I'm in senior level classes that are pretty small so I'm hoping we will be able to have some good discussions. And before any of that happens there is my favorite part of back-to-school...school supply shopping! Yes, that's right, I LOVE school supply shopping. Picking notebooks and pens and highlighters and date books is one of my favorite things about this time of year. You know that Staples ad that they run every year at this time where the dad is skipping through the aisles while pulling his grouchy kids on a couch and "It's the most wonderful time of the year" plays as the soundtrack? I think those ads are brilliant, and obviously they have proven effective since they've been running in one form or another since I was in elementary school, but I'm like the dad, not the kids. I get this love of stationary supplies from my father, like many of my other odd and charming qualities.

Fall is definitely my favorite season. Fashion, school, stationary...and the colors and weather! We Albertans kind of get the short end of the stick when it comes to fall. It's not very long and there really aren't that many trees around to change to pretty colors. One of the reasons I want to move east for grad school is because they get a genuine fall with the leaves changing color and the perfect weather that is sunny and yet crisp. Man I love everything about fall.

Now, to the picture. It may seem odd (because everything else in this post was perfectly normal...), but when I think of fall one of the first things that comes to mind is plaid. I love plaid. For some reason I associate it with warmth and comfort and cooler weather. So, to accompany my rhapsodizing about the many wonderful elements of fall, here is a photo of the McCurdy plaid. At least, both my father and I think it is the McCurdy plaid. We could be wrong. If anyone knows better, feel free to fill me in. Anyway. This is the fabric that was on the chairs at McCurdy's Restaurant at the Silver Dart Lodge in Baddeck, Nova Scotia. I loved Baddeck. I really just loved all of Cape Breton, but Baddeck is where we spent most of our time. There's family history there since my paternal grandmother's maiden name is McCurdy (yes, the ones that the restaurant is named after). One day I would like to own a kilt in the family plaid. Until then I will have to satisfy myself with several plaid items from the stores this fall.

Envisioning Portsmouth

I have been looking at this picture for days now, thinking that I should post it but never knowing what to write about in connection with it. I finally have it though. I am currently working my way through Mansfield Park by Jane Austen. If you know me well then you probably know that I have a love for Jane Austen, particularly Pride and Prejudice, which I have read so many times that my copy (which is only four years old) is beginning to fall apart. Over the past year or so, I've been working through the rest of her novels and dearly loving them. I am just over halfway through Mansfield Park and Fanny's brother William has just come to visit. William is a midshipman and has been at sea for seven years. His ship comes to port in Portsmouth, which is where he and Fanny are from (although Fanny hasn't been there since she was ten). Now, I've seen the BBC version of Mansfield Park already so I have very dfinite impressions of the settings and characters and how they appear. Whenever Portsmouth or any other harbour town is mentioned this picture is the sort of thing that comes to mind. Weathered wood, fog, grey skies, patches of bright paint. It's really rather lovely. This particular image comes from Fortress Louisbourg on Cape Breton Island and is precisely what I think Portsmouth would look like. Fill the streets with Victorian English sailors and voila, you have one of the locales in Mansfield Park. Since I love Cape Breton and actually have a fondness for foggy days (although it was mighty cold there) and also love color, this image has a particular attraction for me. There is something so perfect about the pop of the red shutters against the grey weathered wood in the misty air. Lovely.

Not Wanted on the Voyage

I'm currently working on the outline for my literary theory paper, which is on Timothy Findley's novel, Not Wanted on the Voyage and feminist theory. Not the world's most stimulating topic, but also not the most boring topic I've written on, so I'll survive. Anyway. Since the novel is a feminist/postcolonial/ecocritical rewrite of the flood narrative from Genesis, most of it involves a rather large boat. Not nearly as pretty as this one, according to the novel anyway, the Bible doesn't really specify how pretty the ark was, just how to build it. As a result, I have boats on the mind. As I was trolling through my pictures from various trips to places near water I came across this one from my trip to Nova Scotia in 2008. I actually didn't know that I had this picture, but I am definitely a fan of it. I love how the blue of the ship and the red of the flag just pop against the greyish background. I actually posted a picture of this ship's masts and rigging a few weeks ago. Sorry this is such a short post. I keep getting great ideas for posts I could do but they all take some time to put together, so until I have made it through the rest of the semester I'll just have to keep those ideas on the back burner. I should probably write them down somewhere otherwise they are likely to get lost in the upcoming cramming for finals. All right. Back to the outline!

The Barra MacNeils

I just returned from the Barra MacNeils concert. There is seriously nothing like that music. It makes me happy every single time. The only downside is that everytime I go to one of their concerts I leave with an incredible desire to move to Cape Breton. Now in general this is not a problem, but it does make the whole focusing on school work thing a bit of an issue. Oh well. I'm all smiles because of it so I guess I can put up with some daydreaming.

In the summer of 2008 I was lucky enough to spend some time in Cape Breton with my family. I positively fell in love with the place. I know that a couple days ago I said that I am very much a city girl, but I think Cape Breton would be an exception to that rule. I could quite happily move there. This picture is from Fortress Louisbourg. It was misty and cold the day we went out there which was unpleasant for walking around but made for some stunning photos. I should probably warn you all that this Barra MacNeils high might not wear off for a while so there might be a bit of a maritimes theme to my posts for the next unspecified period of time.