works of wanderlust

Category: life & stuff

Generally just words and thoughts on the progress of my day-to-day.

  • Happy Things

    Compared to this time
    last year are you
    happier or sadder?

    the scent of freshly baked bread
    crisp autumn leaves cracking underfoot
    cuddles from an energetic dog
    grilled meat over an open fire
    fresh snowflakes reflected in my run light
    churning my own ice cream
    a freshly seasoned cast iron pan
    saturn aglow in the evening sky
    vaccinations
    beers shared with coworkers in the backyard
    runs through the rolling wilderness
    airline tickets
    looking across the mountains after a long climb
    watching the construction of a new ice rink
    games played with friends
    completed projects at work
    watercolour paints on coarse paper
    a new leaf appearing on a houseplant
    hugs from my daughter
    text messages from old friends
    freshly waxed cross country skis
    spicy mustard
    words shared on a not-so-new-anymore blog

  • Another Life Reset

    Nearly every day for the last year this blog has given me space to think about and write about living a more simple, purposeful life.

    Better food.

    Longer walks.

    Moments of captured creativity.

    But so what’s my point?

    Who or what are you
    leaving behind in 2021?

    I guess getting to the end of a year of being someone who works in digital technology but plays in the very analog world of cast iron, fire, wilderness, and trails has found me at a bit of a crossroads.

    I turned forty-five this past month.

    I’ve been working at a post-university career-type job for a little over twenty-some years.

    I suppose (and if I’m lucky) I could expect to work for a little over twenty-some years until I’m supposed to retire and pack up my suitcase to see the world as an old guy.

    But all this thinking and writing and pondering a different sort of life has left me with a particular notion of switching things up.

    I seriously looked into finding a bakery apprenticeship (or something similar) over the summer. It didn’t work out, but it did put me in the mindset of what exactly might be encompassed in a career change, even one massively dramatic as moving from a keyboard to a cutting board.

    So while I’m lucky in another way in that we didn’t lose anyone close to us this year (despite a global pandemic raging everywhere we look) I did lose a piece of me, a particular certainty of myself and who I am, and not necessarily in a bad way.

    What am I leaving behind in 2021? I’m stepping away from the resolute and stubborn guy who knows exactly where he’s going to be sitting in twenty some years. I don’t think I do anymore. I think he faded away sometime over the summer and in his place is someone who wants … needs … a simpler bite of meaning in his life.

    Whether that’s a result of all this writing, or just an obvious correlation, I’m not sure yet.

  • My Little Orphan Plant Project

    I’m overstating it a little bit, but for the second time in as many months I found myself browsing through the reject tropical plant rack at another local hardware superstore and filling an handbasket with a motley assortment of discount greenery to bring home.

    Yesterday I came home with (another) six potted indoor plants, all on death’s doorstep from a season of rejection and neglect, all steeply discounted to literal cents likely because the seasonal holiday replacements need the shelf space.

    A fern. A couple palms. An indoor rose. And a couple other interesting leafy explosions that were encased in root balls of dirt so dried out that even the trash bin may have questioned their existence.

    I feel a bit sorry for plants like this.

    Not that plants have feelings.

    Not that I haven’t neglected and doomed my share of indoor foliage over the years.

    Rather, because it seems a bit like a charity project, albeit a small and ultimately self-serving one, to save a few of these dregs of the greenhouse from final obliteration and see if I can’t coax some life back into them and potentially give each a new home in mine.

    If they die, aw shucks and a few bucks.

    If they live and thrive, I have a new houseplant on the cheap.

    In short, in the last two months I’ve added at least a dozen listless but leafy loafers to my weekly watering schedule and sparked something of a small project into the notion of filling the house with a bit more organic décor. I don’t know if it’ll be worth revisiting here on the blog, but like anything greenish, with a little sunshine and water and almost anything can happen.

  • Sn’oh Canada

    Well, it was inevitable.

    This morning there was a few skiffs of snow around the city, but for the most part I could have still raked the autumn leaves dawdling in my backyard.

    By this evening, a generous blanket had covered the park and streets.

    I guess it really is time to dig out the winter running gear.

  • All Hallows’ Eve

    Happy Halloween!

    With near certainty, within a week or so I’ll be shovelling the sidewalk clear of fresh snow and contemplating pulling my cross country skis from storage.

    But … as of right now it is still October, the air is crisp but not quite freezing, and as the sun starts to set over to the west I’m busy putting out the last few decorations and readying a big bowl of candy for the inevitable arrival of wee trick-or-treaters.

    We spent the better part of the weekend cleaning up the backyard, raking the fallen leaves from the grass, and stacking the outdoor furniture in the shed.

    This year I again set up a cozy set of wooden benches around my backyard firepit and kept the campfire supplies handy near the front of the storage area so I can attempt some winter cookouts outdoors. Last year the snow fell and I piled up small heaps and built burms into a campfire cove in the middle of the yard where we cozily cuddled around our old fire bowl. This year I hope to improve on the design and add the cooking capacity by making use of my new-this-season fire pit. What would be more fun that toasting a big pot of chili over the fire come December, warming up that big cast iron Dutch oven for a steamy winter wonderland feast right in our backyard?

    Still, we have a few days of pre-snow to enjoy the dwindling remains of the late-summer and autumn.

    In the neighbourhood one subdivision over they are likely to send off the month with a celebration of Halloween fireworks. I’ll hand out some candy from our front door, click off the lights as the evening grows later, and wander across the street to check them out.

    Boom! Crack! Pop!

    And … boo!

    Then. It’s basically winter. Alright, that is a little scary.