Hawaii - Travels and Observations

This morning's post is a snippet about the cover photo on my latest book, Before You Go. My mother-in-law was a warm, cheerful, energetic, and kind of zany person, always up for a new adventure. She loved having our boys up to her trailer, and they have fond memories of epic summers spent with her. She was more friend than "mother-in-law" and had a knack for making you feel welcomed and loved. She genuinely enjoyed people.

Sadly, she passed much too soon, and she left my husband and his brother her Hawaiian timeshare. We have been there many times, and even though we were never there with her, it invokes good memories of her. The timeshare is in Makaha, on Oahu, right on a beautiful, quiet beach. The kids come out after school to surf, but otherwise the beach is fairly empty. It's a residential area, not touristy, and I enjoy walking around the neighbourhood, appreciating the azaleas and palm trees and listening to the crowing of the ubiquitous roosters. One such walk inspired the setting for Before You Go.

The photo on the cover was snapped from the timeshare's lanai, looking north and showing the neighbourhood I was walking through when the book's plot began to come to me.

With the travel situation with the U.S. right now (not to mention the cost of flying), we won't be returning to Hawaii anytime soon, if ever. I miss that luscious feeling of walking out of the airport (usually in the middle of the night) into warm, humid air. The constant background sound of the waves thundering onto the sand. The bone-deep heat of the hot tub easing my aching joints. The BBQ pork manapua served hot, like little doughy melt-in-your-mouth marshmallows, at the local 7-11. The kind friends we've made there. The delicious feeling of waking up knowing you have nothing to do all day but slather yourself in coconut-scented sunscreen and sit with a book on the balcony. Bliss.

On the other hand, the last time I was there, there was considerably more tension in the air between tourists, natives, and the unhoused population, and I left feeling very much like an unwanted colonial. It made me ponder in ways I hadn't before the role I play and the position I have inadvertently landed in in life. Some uncomfortable consideration of privileges I haven't earned and haven't been properly appreciative of. This new awareness is not necessarily a bad thing.

It was a Busy Friday at the McKendry House

Twenty-five containers and counting...

Our waste collection guys are going to hate us.

Riverwood Conservancy and Erindale Park - a Walk Along the Credit River

I'm tired of being sick in bed, so yesterday I headed out for a long walk. I ended up heading east along Burnhamthorpe Road, admiring the swaths of tulips in the centre islands, noticing Eastern Redbud trees in bloom, until I got to the overpass over the Credit River. There are a couple of lookout points where you can rest your arms on the railing and look down at the gorge. The sound of the river has to compete with the sound of traffic at that height, but if you take the steps down to river level, it's like entering a different world. Stone, soil, filtered sunlight, green growing things---and the hum of traffic is subsumed under the rush of water.

If you turn north, you enter the paths of the Riverwood Conservancy, where you can choose easy or more difficult routes. All lead eventually back up the hill to formal gardens and the art centre. Or, as I did yesterday, you can turn south and walk along the Credit River.

I met a handful of people walking the trail, but for the most part I was by myself. Nothing but peace and beauty and the satisfying feeling of walking on something other than pavement. There are occasional footbridges over branching rills, and they've placed handy benches here and there if you need a pause. I was taking a moment to remove pebbles from my shoes when I looked up and saw two deer placidly walking along the bank directly opposite me. Deer. Smack in the middle of a city of over 700,000. So I sat on the bench a while and watched them. One of the deer was so unthreatened by my presence that she stopped to poop, which I confess I took as a compliment. A few other walkers paused to watch for a while too.

When the deer finally moved on, we all wished each other a nice day, and I resumed my stroll (the path is level and easy enough that it can't be called a hike) and emerged in Erindale Park on Dundas Street, where---happily---there are public washrooms. I'd already been walking for 2 hours, so I caught a handy bus back to South Common, via the University, and then walked home from there. About 2.5 hours in all. 

One of the disadvantages of not having a phone is that I also don't have a lightweight camera. My digital camera weighs too much to want to carry it with me on my walks. But one day I'll see if I can capture some views from the overpass, looking down at the river. 

I'm excited to know that all this loveliness is within walking distance of my house, and I regret that I didn't realize it sooner. I feel like I've wasted the past 25 years, missing out on this beautiful scenery when I could have been walking here every day. But then I remind myself that no, until relatively recently, I was running for the bus to get to work, and I wouldn't have had time to take a leisurely two and a half hour stroll in the morning. Instead of marching along under picturesque white pines, I would have been hunched in a cubicle, wrangling numbers into their little slots in Excel sheets. What a waste of life! How glad I am to be free of it, even if only for a while.

Thankful for Friends

A warm thank you to all my friends and family who have reposted the link to buy my latest book Before You Go For an introvert who's more comfortable with books than with people, I really appreciate the help promoting it!

This week was actually very social for me. Tuesday I had choir practice. Hubby, sons, and I went to see the movie Project Hail Mary on Wednesday. Thursday Son #2 and I helped throw a dinner at the church with the missionaries. Friday I went to The Devil Wore Prada 2 with four women I know (two movies in one week! I know, right??). And Saturday was a Relief Society women's conference in Brampton, with wonderful food and workshops and conversation. I met a new friend and fellow writer there, too.

And then today I stayed in bed with a chest cold and a book and kinda missed Mothers' Day, but that's okay. I had a good people-filled week, and the sun is streaming in the window, and I'm content. This coming week will be filled with restorative activities -- gardening and long walks to the river and a new book called The Reluctant Tuscan: How I discovered my Inner Italian by Phil Doran, which looks promising.

Peace, Sunshine, and Wornout Shoes

For the last two or three weeks, I've been taking long walks every day, sometimes as long as 2-2 1/2 hours. I've discovered that it only takes me 45 minutes to reach the Riverwood Conservancy on the Credit River, which is a wonderful thing. The route takes me across the bridge overlooking the river, where there's a jutting lookout point. It's become my new favourite thing to do, resting my arms on the railing and just drinking in the glorious view. The pointillism of newly-leafing-out trees, the rush of the water down the gorge, the deep layer of old leaves under the trees, lush greenery on the island in the middle of the river, the sun warming my back... it's a perfect boost to my mood and mental health. As I gaze, I can almost block out the sound of the traffic behind me.

Sometimes I turn around and go back home, but a couple of times I've continued on to wander the paths at the Conservancy. There are some small, pretty gardens by the art centre, and a cattail-filled pond with redwing blackbirds and herons. The eastern redbuds are just beginning to turn pink. There's something soul-satisfying about walking through dappled light on a soft path deep with old pine needles. The smell of damp earth. The sound of flowing water and birdsong. Peace.

If you haven't been outside yet today, put down your screen and go out this minute. Breathe the air and move your limbs and feel whatever the weather is doing on your face. Nothing can beat it.

The Contrast is Jarring

 My Facebook feed this morning:

followed immediately by:

and a little further down:

A wee reminder to myself not to take my own home for granted. Not to overlook the beauty and blessings that surround me. I have electricity, running clean water, heat and light, a flushing toilet, an oven. Most importantly, I have community. I never want to lose sight of that.

My Latest Novel is Now Available

After working with traditional publishers for my first eleven books, I've decided to try self-publishing my latest novel. Please give it a look! Thanks!

Plot: The last thing Etta Purcell thought she'd be doing at age eight-seven was writing a food blog. And she never expected the project to connect her with her great-grandson Matt, who finds her online. Before she knows it, Etta is jetting off to Hawaii to visit him...and his grandmother, Etta's daughter Linda, from whom she has been estranged for many years.

Linda already has enough to deal with, having been remarried, relocated, and unexpectedly landed with a teenaged grandson to raise. She no longer feels she fits in her own life, and the last thing she needs is her mother turning up uninvited. For Matt's sake, mother and daughter must establish a truce. But can they find a way to move beyond the pain and misunderstandings that tore their family apart so long ago?

"Before You Go" is the story of reconciliation and forgiveness. Perhaps---even at age eighty-seven---it's never too late to heal.

Link to purchase:

Before You Go