#I like Alberta that's where a lot of my family came from

[teaboot]

Ive never been to California but that feels right somehow

Loads of crystal shops, overpriced Boba tea, and middle aged women in junky jewelry who practice new age medicine.

I find Alberta culture to be a bit more gruff and grounded, bit more relatable. Like... if you run into a shitty person from Alberta, you imagine an asshole in a jacked up Ford F150 and a large dog throwing his beer can out his window on the highway. Whereas a jerk in BC would be like.... A cunty lady in a tie-dye shirt and birkenstocks in front of a whole foods sniping at you about how taking prescription medication damages your reiki or something

Hey have you ever noticed that British Columbians and Albertans kind of seem to have beef with each other? Not to a ridiculous degree, but definitely somewhat? Because I’ve noticed a lot of BCers being passive aggressive towards Alberta and I’ve noticed the same for Albertans towards BC online, but can’t tell if I’m going crazy or if this is actually a thing

BC has a lot of hippies and tourism while Alberta has a lot more farming and industrial work. I haven't seen a lot of sniping like that, but I can see how we'd clash

[renlyslittlerose]

So my estranged grandfather passed away in the wee morning hours today. Seventeen years and one day since my Canadian grandfather died - which is very odd.

He wasn't what I would say was a good grandfather, nor a good father. He wasn't even a very good man. I started distancing myself from him around 2016, and was fully out of his life by 2018. He was verbally and emotionally abusive, enjoyed toying with people and their emotions, used people for his own personal gain, gaslit like it was his fucking job, and was generally neglectful to his duties as a father and a grandfather - especially to my sister and I. I can count on one hand the times he actually remembered my birthday when I was a kid, but even those moments were probably prompted by my mum or his girlfriend or his ex-wife.

But he had his moments, and I think I should say a few words about him and who he was.

He was born in a town in Hungary in 1935, near Lake Balaton. He was the youngest of the children, his brothers old enough to serve during WWII. During the war he talked about how he and his friends would go out to the abandoned battlefields and collect ammunition from the German and Soviet tanks, pile them in cow pastures, and set them off to scare the cows and other livestock. He said once school resumed after the war, a lot of kids came into class with missing fingers or even missing hands. He was lucky in that the only injury he received during his dumbass-ery was slicing his ass open on a destroyed German tank.

After the war he remained in the area, growing up with minimal education and helping run the household (his eldest brother had committed suicide shortly after the war was over). But in 1956, Hungary had their failed revolution in a desperate attempt to kick out the Soviet occupation. My grandfather wasn't part of the fighting, but he had enough sense to listen to one of the elders in the village who said that if they wanted to get the fuck out of Hungary and past the Iron Curtain, now was their time to run.

So he fled to Austria with some of his friends. They stayed in a refugee camp where he tried to learn basic English, before Canada accepted Hungarian refugees in 1958. So, along with some friends he'd made in the camp, he got on a boat and had a miserable trip across the Atlantic to the harbour of Halifax (he said that he could barely eat the entire trip because he was so sea sick). From there, he was put on a train that went across Canada, and he could get off on at any stop and just... start a new life.

It was, of course, the dead of winter when he and his friends arrived. Canada during the winter isn't pleasant - doubly so when you've come from the relatively mild Hungarian countryside. But one of his friends had family in Vancouver, and so he suggested they stay on the train all the way to the West Coast. Satisfied with this idea, my Papa agreed.

Only he made it as far as my home city in Alberta. You see, my city has this funky weather phenomena called a 'chinook.' Chinooks are when warm winds from the Pacific flow into the area and rush down the mountains and across the prairies, causing an inversion of air that rapidly warms up the city for a few days. We can go from -20C degree temperatures one day, to +15C the next. So when my Papa arrived in my city it was warm. Deceptively so. Ignoring his friend's suggestion they just continue on to Vancouver, my Papa decided to get off and start his new life.

The next day the train rolled out, and with it the freezing cold temperatures returned.

Despite it all he remained where he was. Life as a Hungarian refugee was tough. He knew very little English, and wasn't sure how to navigate life in a city that had developed past his home town in Hungary. He told me a story about trying to figure out how an automatic door worked, as well as trying to ask a store clerk where the bars of soap were, only to be taken to the canned soup aisle.

But as he learned English and adapted to Canada, he decided to sign up for architectural classes. He eventually got good enough at the gig that he became an expert in concrete as a building material, and helped to build one of the more iconic buildings in my city that is shaped like a saddle (which, if you know, you know).

In 1961, he and some fellow Hungarians decided to go to a dance at the local German-Canadian club where he met my German grandmother. She'd just moved to Canada, and had made the unfortunate decision to dance with the handsome Hungarian lad in the corner. Few months later she realized she was pregnant with my mum, and they got married before she gave birth.

Their marriage wasn't a happy one. But regardless, my Grandma had two more children with him before filing for divorce.

Growing up my Papa was always this strange, nebulous figure in my life. My sister and I were the eldest of the grandchildren, so we had to deal with his fumbled attempts at trying to be a grandfather when it was clear he didn't care. My mum would take us over to his house where they would argue the whole time, while my sister and I sat in the basement watching Jesus Christ Superstar on repeat. Gifts for birthdays usually came in the form of money, but I can remember the few times he actually bought me something. One time, he took me to the circus which ended up terrifing me because of the loud noises and bright lights. But instead of yelling at me or mocking me, he took me out of the show and bought me a teddy bear to sooth me. It was light brown with a white belly, with a yellow ribbon as a tie. I cherished that thing for a long time.

When I was old enough to carry a conversation, and he realized that I had an interest in ancient history like he did, we started chatting more. For a time it was fine. But then I realized that he liked to poke and prod and jab - liked to make people uncomfortable because it made him laugh. I would say something about my studies, and he would retort with something completely bigoted just to see me get flustered. I'll admit that I put up with it longer than I should have. The final straw was when I told him what my Masters studies would be on - how ancient Greek ideals on masculinity and male same-sex relations influenced the early German Gay Rights movement. His response was 'Good - show the world how your grandmother's people are a bunch of homos.'

He didn't believe what he was saying. He wasn't homophobic - unless he knew he could make it hurt. Which is almost worse, in a way.

After that I distanced myself. I didn't go to any family events he would be present at, and if I was forced to go I wouldn't speak with him. The last time I saw him was a few years ago when he was giving out cheques from his estate, under the assumption that he only had a few years left. I was surprised that I was even included, but then I realized that once again it was someone else in his life that had made sure I was looked after. This time it was my aunt.

I think the last thing I said to him was 'take care' or something along those lines. An impersonal greeting, one made out of social obligation more than anything.

I'm not sad about his passing, but I do worry about those who are left behind. My mother claims she doesn't care, but I know she still has lingering feelings - how could she not, he was her father, after all. My aunts are grieving terribly for a person that I never got to meet. Not really. My cousins who had a better relationship with him for the most part, are probably feeling the loss. And my sister, bless her, is worried for everyone else. His death will leave a crater in the family - one last 'fuck you' to his children, whom he loved to see fight over his affections and attention.

He had a lot of bad qualities, but some good as well. He was determined, he was curious, and he loved to learn. He was brave in the sense of leaving everything he knew behind just for a shot at something better. He had a good sense of humour (when he wasn't being a jerk), and I think deep down he did love his family. Just maybe not as much as he loved himself.

Nyugodjék békében Sandor 💕

[missielynne]

CBS Ghosts Review- The Silent Partner

Isaac and Sam's relationship is an underrated one to me, so I love episodes that have the opportunity to show it off. Granted this episode was definitely nowhere near as exciting or full of oomph as Halloween 3, but what is?

It highlighted once again the fact that Jay and Sam need to do more work communicating as a couple and maybe discussing limits about things or showing more appreciation cause like, Sam really gave Jay a telling off for not paying attention to her book because all he cares about is his restaurant, but frankly, I feel the man has the right to focus on stuff that's meaningful to him, especially after he did stuff like dig up Flower's death spot to get something for the seance to bring her back. That gets him a lot, to me, and I feel like sometimes Sam can be a little forgetful that even though Jay loves her and the ghosts, he needs time to do stuff that's just for him and that's not a crime.

Now that doesn't excuse him treating Isaac as if he's just some annoying imaginary friend and I was glad that he came up with the table and the speech to show that he actually did read the book about Isaac to show that he did believe in the man's value as part of his family, even if he's a ghost Jay can't see. (And totally agree with everyone that it would have been nice to see Nigel there at the unveiling and if we don't get at least one shot of Nigel and Isaac having a date for two at the ghost table, I will be sad.)

The part with Sas and Hetty and the candy was another case of "good idea, poor execution." They took it far enough and used some really weird wording for it (like when they were all "She can hold onto the candy and her fingers will be in our mouths") that it just made me wince and squirm and not blame Carol for wanting to go on a walk to get away from them one bit.

Last but definitely not least, I'm sure I was not the only one who was cheering when Pete revealed to Carol that he knew about her affair with Jerry and told her she sucked. It was well earned and I think she's lucky that he's too nice a guy to give her worse. (Although I do give her credit, even if it's a way to excuse her own cheating or whatever, for immediately asking if Pete is with someone. For all her issues with Pete, she's not a hypocrite who just expected her husband to be super loyal to her while she cheated on him because she felt entitled to that. She seemed genuinely surprised that he chose to stay loyal. Granted he didn't KNOW she cheated until later, but...still.) And although it's a low bar, also congrats to Carol for being one of the few ghosts or people to be at least decent to Nancy on sight compared, say, to Hetty, who still calls her "it."

I wish it would have just been Nancy and Pete doing the fake girlfriend thing. Cause like, with them, we know it's fake. She's there to make him look good and then she steps away. Whereas with Alberta, you just know that this relationship is something that they could make into a real thing, even after throwing it away, and since I don't feel like Richie and Danielle have that kind of chemistry it's just like...ugh, okay. Although, there could be another love interest coming for Alberta soon so maybe they aren't being made into a couple. That's my hope.

All in all, yay for Pete. That is the high point of this mostly functional episode, although, as usual, I do enjoy Isaac and Sam. Now we're on a short hiatus until early April where we could get a bachelor party and the return of Nigel! Can't wait!

[fallowtail]

thinking about hetty again what else is new. putting it under a read more because i feel bad i keep spamming the tag with long posts about my blorbo lol

sorry if none of this makes any sense or is cohesive i'm just rambling ok but i just (clenches fist) the fact they decided to let hetty feel realistic in her place as an upper class victorian woman...(throwing her at the wall) they could have been easy and made her a rich white upper class woman who was still a feminist despite her complete lack of life experience outside the confines of her home, but instead they made her truly feel like she came from her class and stature and i LOVE it. she is so so so fundamentally and deeply flawed

she's awful to people she perceives as below her and she's manipulative and desperate for power and to feel like she's in control and she wants to boss the other ghosts around, and she wasn't a woman who was interested in the idea of feminism because she had no exposure to any other world view than the one she was entrenched in and praised and rewarded for (outside of her direct family situation...we can all agree she was not being rewarded by elias lol) so it didn't even click as an option for her, let alone really even having much awareness of the concept.

she hated how her husband treated her but didn't necessarily think it was wrong of him to be doing so (which we find out from her interaction with molly) bc why would it be, that's just the way things were! we see this "its just the way things were" mindset as well with how hetty is able to bring herself to extend the olive branch to elias despite how much she hates him, because if she is being offered a chance to learn to be good than well...doesn't he deserve that too? until he tells her to fuck off essentially and she immediately, well, we all know what she does with that information lol (i almost wish he hadnt gone down on us so soon after his introduction though, because...would she have kept trying? i think maybe she might have.)

she's managed to get to a place where she realizes how she lived her life was bad and that she's in "purgatory" for a reason, and she realizes that she wants to change and be good, but she struggles with it because she doesn't have any frame of reference to know what about her behavior was bad, and what it was she was doing that made her an awful person. she just doesn't know until someone directly tells her because she has no frame of reference to know these things, and a lot of the times the other ghosts...don't tell her. you get the idea that, up until sam showed up, the other ghosts didn't actually do much to explain things to her, they just get annoyed that she doesn't get it, they roll their eyes because that's just how hetty is, but when stuff actually gets explained to her (sam + flower + alberta, usually) she is able to digest it and we get to watch her very slowly develop empathy and sympathy for other people, even if it takes her some time to get there and if she doesn't fully connect the dots right away.

there's such an interesting plot thread with hetty of the duality of living within a place of privilege and imprisonment at the same time and how that shaped her, and now that she's being exposed to other concepts, to other worldviews, to being able to interact with people outside of her social bubble, she is interested in them, but is repeatedly dragged back down by years of social conditioning (example: the scene where she tells flower not to let pete treat her badly, that she doesn't want to spend her afterlife continuing to forgive the sins of the men in her life, but then continues to do that exact same thing over and over again) because change isn't linear and by god is hetty woodstone walking a wobbly line and looping herself around in circles while she tries to figure it out.

hetty was/is screaming about the yellow wallpaper but instead of tearing herself apart she took it out on everyone else around her, specifically her employees (#girlboss!) because she was in a position to do so with little to no consequences, it was what was expected of her, and it would be the only actual sense of control she had, and she enjoyed it. in the newest episode hetty comes to the conclusion that sam is correct and that you can't treat modern workers that way, in a showcase of how she only ever kind of gets it- the lesson there was that "hetty, treating people like that is (was) wrong period", but she always gets stuck filtering the lesson through the social expectations of her time. she's trying, and making an effort, but she struggles to fully get there, especially when it concerns her own past bad behaviors and isn't something that can bring her a sense of pleasure.

WHEW. hetty woodstone, good lord. what a character.

[loonie-and-proud]

a dream of a dream

Elliot has six when he first dream about Narnia. He was twelve when he found it.

Elliot was six when an enormous thunderstorm wake him up in the middle of the night, he jump out of his bed and run to his parents bedroom. His mother Susan trapped him into a hug quickly, she knew how much her boy hated big noises.

The boy snuggles by his mother sides of the bed, the place just a few months ago was occupied by his father.

Susan kiss his forehead and ask him to sleep but when the storm doesn't stop for a couple of hours they decided to get up.

Elliot could see that his mom was tired but she take him to the kitchen and prepare tea anyways, and listen to him talking about how the other boys in the neighborhood make fun of him for being a coward.

"being scare doesn't make you a coward" his mother says.

But is not just the storm. He felt scare almost everyday since his father die. He was scare that her mother could die too and then he'll be alone.

"You know, I got scare too" says Susan after a long silence. Elliot make a sad smile thinking that his mother is just saying things to make him feel better.

"no you're not, you're brave mama" says Elliot taking a sip of his tea "you're a grown up and Simon says grown ups doesn't get scare like little babies... Like me"

"grown ups get scare, baby. Is just... Not about the same things... Or show it the same way"

"were you scare when dad die?"

Elliot could see the way his mom tense her shoulders at the mention of his father, she wasn't really talkative about him since he pass, maybe it hurt too much, maybe she's suffering like him.

"of course"

She murmured. Take a sip of her own tea.

And with a deep breath tell him "just like when a lost your uncles and aunt"

Elliot eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, he heard stories about his mother siblings before, from aunt Alberta in family reunions or old friends of his mother, a lot of stories with no relation between them except that the four of them were really close.

But she never talk about them and eventually people stop asking about them too.

So he wasn't sure if ask would be the best choice right now.

"You know during the war we... We used to play around the house so your aunt Lucy doesn't get scare" she tells with a smile, but not a sad one "I don't really remember who came with it first but... We pretend that we were in this magical land called Narnia where we were kings and queen with no war or adults to tell us what to do"

"how was it?" he ask "Narnia"

She told him about the woods, the creatures, the cities, the nobles and the magic.

About the stones, and the songs, and the caves.

The parties, the food, the friends and the enemies.

She told him about the Lion.

Later that night in the comfort of her mother bed, Elliot dream about that Lion, playing with him in the coast feeling that they know each other for a very long time, deep down in his heart he felt that was true.

Elliot was twelve when his mother was called by the school, he was failing three classes and got into a fight.

He could hear from outside of the principal office how his mother says the teachers that he's not like that and them telling her how she's wrong.

"Don't get me wrong, Mrs Evans" Elliot heard one of his teachers voice, probably the only one who isn't using a angry tone "Elliot is a great kid but he spent too much time daydreaming"

The trip back home was quiet.

Elliot thought that his mom would be more angry, he was expecting a scream or a disappointing look but instead he got silence?

When they enter the house Elliot took the risk of asking.

"mom are you angry?"

Susan sighs "yes, Elliot I'm angry"

She interrupt herself.

So that's why she wast talking, she didn't want to scream at him, she was struggling with how correct Elliot from something she is sure is her fault.

"why on earth did you punch Simon? I thought you were friends"

"he's an idiot. he's cruel and boring and he started!"

"is this about your stories again?"

"MY stories??"

Suddenly the conversation became full screaming.

"You were the one that tell me is good to believe in something and now you're angry because I do it and you don't?!"

"Don't talk to me like that!" she hated when he get like that, it reminds her of Peter in the worst way, so stubborn "You can't spend your life in a fairytale"

"Is not a fairytale! I know!" he scream trying not to cry, it's ok when other kids say things like that but it hurts when is his mother "It's not my fault that everyone is death inside!"

Susan laugh from exasperation, now he sounds like Lucy, like the morning before the accident when she didn't want to go on that train.

"Oh my God are you even hearing yourself now?! You sound... You sound..."

She didn't want to say crazy. He didn't want to heard crazy.

Of all people, not by his mom.

So he run to his room and slammed the door behind him, let himself fall at the floor with his back in the door.

He cried for a long time, hugging himself. He felt alone, like there was no one in this world who understands him, not even the woman who he though could always count.

She was worried, he guess, it most be hard having him as a son.

Maybe if wasn't here his mom wouldn't have to worry so much, she didn't have anyone to lay on after all.

Elliot crying were interrupted when he felt a cold breeze entering the room, he look up at the window in front of him, the curtains were almost in the roof. He get up decided to close the window when he saw outside.

The woods.

"Imposible" He muttered to himself before going out of the window.

It was Narnia.

[skullhaver]

and if 3.5 years into a D&D campaign I put together an OC playlist for Athren for the first time and wrote up comically detailed accompanying notes, what then

[Menzoberranzan]

1. Why We Build the Wall // Between the Wars - Billy Bragg

The enemy is poverty And the wall keeps out the enemy And we build the wall to keep us free // For theirs is a land with a wall around it And mine is a faith in my fellow man

These two songs function together, both in Billy Bragg's voice. "Why We Build The Wall" functions here as an overarching, archetypal "oppressive society" song. Here we establish our lawfully-reflavoured homebrew Menzoberranzan, with its assigned-at-birth haves and have-nots. Then we zoom in on this ordinary family doing their jobs between extraordinary times of conflict. Athren grows up and becomes a young adult as Just Some Guy during, "The peace we knew between the wars."

2. Second Child, Restless Child - The Oh Hellos

See, I was born the second child With a spirit running wild, running free And they saw trouble in my eyes They were quick to recognize the devil in me This song is so straightforwardly, heart-wrenchingly Athren, it doesn't need annotation. He wants to do his duty but his main character/PC energy is just too strong.

3. A Sadness Runs Through Him - The Hoosiers

Oh, he could not break surface tension He looked in the wrong place for redemption Athren can tolerate chaffing against the restrictions of his caste, but he can't tolerate the abuses perpetrated on him and his family by his House's nobility. Wonder what he's gonna do about it?

4. Santé - Stromae

Et si on célébrait ceux qui ne célèbrent pas Pour une fois, j'aimerais lever mon verre à ceux qui n'en ont pas [In English] What if we celebrated those who don't celebrate For once, I'd like to raise a glass to those who don't have one [also functions as a pun - "raise a glass to the have-nots"] This song salutes ordinary workers (the title, meaning "health," is a toast), including some specific jobs like house cleaners and nannies, who keep life running while the rich party. Fills the narrative role of growing worker solidarity between House Vandree and House Auvryndar during coup strategizing.

5. Blue Automatic - Thank You Scientist

Toxic feeling, pacing back and forth again The floor, the ceiling, feel it closing in This is the end Without a place, to rest your head You got nowhere to go, your Back's against the wall Your back's against the wall I listened to this album a lot while we were first doing character creation and kicking off the campaign. I came to permanently associate it with Athren. This song in particular has long been the "chaos of the failed coup attempt" song.

6. DEBT COLLECTOR - Jhariah

It's all catching up to you now Hope you can run 'Cause soon your past will come and drag you Down, down Immediate aftermath of the failed coup attempt, of course.

[The Underdark Wilds]

7. Far From Home (The Raven) - Sam Tinnesz

The air is cold The night is long I feel like I might fade into the dawn Fade until I'm gone Oh, I'm so far from home Our harrowing and sorrowful transit to the surface.

8. Brother - The Rural Alberta Advantage

There's a dream I had Where somebody watched out for me and you And in the end of life There was no one there for me and you I had trouble finding a song about brothers that fit what I wanted to convey about Athren and Adinar's relationship. This one has an emotional intensity and clarity that spoke to me. Some lines are easier for me to imagine as from Adinar's point of view ("Brother, my brother / You've got to hold yourself together") but broadly this song to me is about Athren's despair at leaving Adinar behind. It's a kind of dream/fantasy that somehow Athren and his parents could go back. Despite how angry he was about the (perceived) betrayal, of course Athren never stopped loving his brother.

[Waterdeep]

9. Heartbreak Feels So Good - Fallout Boy

No matter what they tell you The future's up for grabs, you know No matter what they sell you Is there a word for "bad miracle?" Athren's on the surface now and he's adjusting to the idea that his life is really his own, with all the terrifying uncertainty and glorious possibility that entails.

10. Immigraniada - Gogol Bordello

But if you give me the invitation To hear the bells of freedom chime To hell with your double standards We're coming rougher every time Props to Athren's parents' gumption to go from being a scribe and scout to running a restaurant. That idea originally came about because I thought it would be a funny parallel with another character's family, but as the game's gone on, the Dahanas being an immigrant family has started to feel genuinely poignant and badass.

11. I Guess This Is My Life Now - Roan Martin

I guess this is my life now Will this be my home? A younger me thought by now we'd be grown I guess this is my life now At least it's now my own And what did young me know? Kicking off the songs set solidly during the Dragon Heist campaign, with Athren's eternal mood of, "Haha what the fuck are we doing. I guess this is normal now. I guess this is what 'making it' feels like apparently!"

12. Mr. Invisible - Thank You Scientist

Sole contender For what I believe to be a mess All I know, we'll never put it to the test [...] When I say that you can count on me, it's true But it seems to me that I can't count on you What are you waiting for? As previously stated, I strongly associate this album with Athren. To me, this jazz prog rock odyssey of a song resonates with our party's efforts to parse Waterdeep's various factions and dig deeper into the Grand Game.

13. Old Scars / Future Hearts - All Time Low

I don't wanna be the one that's left behind Don't blame me, don't hate me I don't wanna be the one that's left behind I won't fade away Be forgotten or just cast away This life is mine to live Like "Second Child, Restless Child' this one feels so vivid and so personal, there's almost nothing to say :') Bonus for another use of "walls" to refer obliquely to Menzoberranzan. ("If you could see beyond the walls that you have built" and "But you won't think outside the lines that hold you in")

14. You're Gonna Go Far Kid - The Offspring

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives By the end of the adventure, we've become Big Damn Heroes of Waterdeep and Athren feels like his life is just getting started!!

[Bonus Track] 5 Finger Discount - Choking Victim

'Cause I want to see, what's on sale what's for free Every time I go to shop I steal from enemies Who steal from me, and from you If only you knew, then you would steal too Yes, this punk/ska song is about shoplifting and hiding a package in your pants next to your dick. It's silly. It's unfortunately perfect for him.

[fuzzydreamin]

11, 17, 3, 2 for the oc creation thingie

2. Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

✪ Nora: Sort of? I've mentioned before that Nora was built with the idea of looking at the story of Fo4 and what the game lets you do and going "Who would do all this though? And how would they react to it all?".

Who would venture forth into a dangerous and unknown world to reunite with the last bit of their family and pre-war life left? Facing centuries old foes and going above and beyond what most people would be able to withstand? Who would befriend all of the companions and help them with their troubles? Who would don the mantle of The Silver Shroud to bring safety to a troubled town and make a lonely old ghoul feel better? And most importantly, what the hell are they thinking this whole time?

So, she's not specifically designed to just fit with any one character, but they definitely factor into who she ultimately is. From companions, to other characters important to the main story, and even smaller side characters. The interactions she's expected to have with others definitely factor into who she is built to be.

Of all of the companions, I'd say Preston and Nick have the most impact on how I made her, mostly because of them playing large parts in the roads she has to go down (main story and Minutemen stuff).

✝ Alberta: I did also build Al off of my knowledge of Fo3, having played a ton in the past but not so much recently. So there's a lot there that impacts who Al is overall: James relationship with a female Wanderer (he talks differently to a son), Butch and the Tunnel Snakes, playing baseball in the vault, etc.

But I originally created them to see how Nora would react to The Wanderer, and posed an opportunity to show Nora a bit of a dark mirror for herself considering the similarities between their origins and motivations. Also how the differences in their environment and MO changes things too - like if the two had swapped roles, how different would things be then? Better for 3 but worse for 4? How different could Al have been if they had supportive friends from the start like Nora does? Would Nora be so worse off if she'd had to struggle and learned to distrust others as Al had(yes)?

Most everything else came after that. The gremlin took over my mind. Just took a seat and said "I live here now."

3. How did you choose their name?

✪ Nora: Default female character name. Sosu is obviously a play on 'Sole Survivor', but that's actually Nate's last name. Nora's full maiden name is 'Nora Diane Peel'.

The other parts of her name come from actress Diana Rigg and her character Emma Peel from The Avengers (not marvel - an old B&W tv series). The character is cited as being some of Bethesda's inspiration for what the female PC would be like.

I actually also used this name for Nora's mother, keeping the 'Diana' spelling for her. This also means that in my canon Nora's mother sort of named her daughter after herself a little, which is on brand for her.

✝ Alberta: When Fallout 3 was being announced they used 'Albert' as a placeholder name for showing some of the gameplay. This was likely a callback to Fallout 1, where one of the default player options was called that.

I took it and ran with the idea that James and Catherine had chosen that name assuming they were having a boy, but Al came out afab and Catherine died, so James kept the name they chose together and just 'feminised' it. Al thinks that's dumb and also doesn't really like being called by their full first name - it sounds like an old lady name, and they are neither old nor a lady in any sense.

11. already answered here!

17. Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

Not really. I haven't had the chance, since I'm still in the early writing phases and I don't commit to anything on these things if I'm not mostly sure of it - also avoiding telling spoilers.

That said, there have of course been moments where I think through a potential story bit and decide it doesn't work. Nothing to mention though.

[eusuchia]

where would you move to if not toronto? i feel all my friends have toronto as the ideal living place (bonkers rent aside) but also we are literally all from small town northern ontario lol

I get why people move here! I mean I literally am here. it was fine. it is fine. it has all the amenities you want in a big city, like some semblance of public infrastructure, non white people, queer people, communists, certain health services, arts, food, weird niche scenes and stores and whatever. BUT,

now that I've been here for a decade, the rent that was astronomically expensive to me (coming from montreal 2014, where we had an old but comfy 2br for $750/mo total. $325/mo each) when I first got here now seems laughably cheap. it's miserable, yet competitive, and a lot of people get locked into shitty living situations out of fear of the nightmare of finding a new place to live. people often remark about the chill vibes montreal has (or had, depends who you ask), and ultimately a lot of it came down to: not having to hustle your ass off because you could have a beautiful walk-up in a nice medium-density neighbourhood for <$500, and being able to get good microbrews and wine at your corner store, lmao. QC tuition is also cheap for QC residents, and still cheaper than most places for out-of-province, so it really is/was The Place to be a student.

but back to hating toronto: the sprawl is sickening! you get a reprieve in certain neighbourhoods but it's just concrete on concrete on concrete mostly. I feel claustrophobic and trapped here. it takes over an hour IN A CAR to leave the city, or more like two hours if you get unlucky on the 401. if you don't drive? lmao. the commutes that people treat as 'normal' here are unbelievable and inhumane. if I want to be 'in nature' i have to make a whole trip out of it, like that's my entire day. and even then it involves shielding your eyes from the city and pretending it's not there while you look at the lake, or high park, or whatever. I never appreciated this enough about edmonton as a kid/teen but now when I think too hard about the river valley at home I get nauseatingly homesick. (ofc the sprawl in the prairies is horrific as well; I grew up in the small area of downtown edmonton well-serviced by public transport and by the river).

this is to say nothing of the big chunks of 'toronto proper' that I avoid entirely because they're full of the people toronto really wants to cater to, i.e. bay st business guys and lawyers who are the ones buying up all the new developments as investment properties. everything cool here gets torn down for these assholes and turned into luxury condos and people clap and cheer because it's 'more housing!' and you look over and doug ford is getting handed a big novelty check from the Corrupt Personal Friends of Ford Family and Property Developers Foundation.

ANYWAY. I don't know. I had my sights set on halifax for a long time, I love a smaller city and I LOVE the atlantic. it's marginally more affordable than here. it's very white but not as scary white as like, tbh, small town ontario/alberta, I think largely due to being a city and a big student population. but the more I think about it the more it seems kind of stupid to move myself so far away from all my friends, family, networks, etc... again. my fourth province? god. if I do it, I should do it earlier rather than later I guess? but the logistics are nightmarish.

hamilton is on my mind lately. it's more affordable, smaller, less insane as a move, would be close enough to family for my partner to be more comfortable and it's MUCH easier to 'go outside'. I have friends there so I wouldn't be starting completely over again, I even have clients who come to me from there so my work transition wouldn't be crazy. and I could still commute to toronto with bike + GO train. BUT THEN I WOULD STILL BE IN THIS FUCKING PROVINCE.

idk dude sorry for going on and on but this is literally all I've been thinking about for the last few months and I had a minor crisis about it all last week. godspeed getting out of small town ontario anyway. I guess my thesis is... if you speak french, consider montreal?

[goon-writes-her-thoughts]

Homesick

I believe the answer to that question lies in my memories. No matter how depressing everyone seems to find Edmonton, my happier childhood memories happened within the city. Even when my life was falling apart in Alberta, I’m able to fondly remember so much about the River Valley. I remember the days of driving nearly three hours to go to Edmonton for something to do extremely fondly. Bumming around Strathcona, checking out every record store and comic book store with my dad is etched on my brain, coloured with hazy blue skies and vivid graffiti. Even in the winter, I still held Edmonton dear. Being as I haven’t been there since I was 15, I have a freeze frame of the city in my mind through the lens of childhood wonder. For me, I’ll always remember Edmonton as my happiest place on earth.

I remember, almost a decade ago, I was having a rough time in school. The details of the events in school aren’t something I enjoy remembering, but there came a boiling point where my dad was finally called in. The boiling point came one day in a class with a teacher I couldn’t stand. I blacked out for most of it, but from what I was told, it was an aggressive outburst that culminated in my taking off like a scared horse, ultimately leading to suspension and then finally expulsion. I snapped out of the blackout halfway home, looking down off a bridge to the tracks below. My step mom was calling my name, wondering what I was doing out of school. After that, there was no hiding what was going on with me. Thankfully, my father recognized what was happening to me as distress rather than pure recalcitrance. The next day, he took me into Edmonton, partially to see a shrink on Jasper Ave, partially to lighten my spirits. It was a dad and Goon day. We hit all the record stores, ate at my favourite pub, and even checked out Axe Music so I could play some guitar. That day felt perfect. It was sunny and bright, and it was my first time hearing Joshua Tree cover to cover. To this day, Joshua Tree takes me back to Strathcona on a sunny day where I felt incredibly loved. That’s what the word Edmonton reminds me of: the fact that I was and am loved. It was one of many perfect days spent in Edmonton.

As I grew older, I grew jaded and cynical; especially around the time I moved to New Brunswick. I didn’t know all the cool spots, I wasn’t sandwiched between two cities people outside of Canada had heard of, and the people in my town were from different walks of life. I felt alienated by everyone I met. I was going from one homogeneous group of kids to another, except I was not homogeneous with these people. I was painfully othered, largely due to my own ignorance. Until I was 10, I wasn’t fully aware there were careers other than military, oil worker and garbage man. It wasn’t until I moved to New Brunswick that I actually met people whose parents weren’t any of those things. My worldview needed to shift, but I never knew how to do that. The people I was going to school with had known each other since kindergarten and I was an uncommon new face. At that time, and even still, I couldn’t think of anything more claustrophobic than going through the growing pains of life with such a large audience. Even though I was closer to my birth place than ever before, I felt so disconnected and lonely. It was at this point that my idealistic version of Edmonton made my heart hurt. For the first time in my life, I was homesick.

I know now that what I missed wasn’t just Edmonton, nor was it home. What I missed was a sense of community and an era of my life where I was closer to my family, emotionally speaking. What a lot of people fail to realize about military families, is that no matter where I went, I had my family and a close-knit community of kids in the same boat. I was always an odd kid, but I was odd in a very palatable way to the other kids I grew up with. Fundamentally, our situations were the same: one or both of our parents were in the military. Our personalities and interests were secondary since we already had one important thing in common.

When I moved to a town as far removed from CADPAT as possible, I had inadvertently lost my community. It was for that reason that high school was tough. When I started grade ten, I experienced culture shock. Not only did I lose my community, but I also lost the amenities that came with living close to Edmonton. Moncton was close, but it was a sorry replacement for a place like Edmonton. Halifax, though it’s my birth place, also paled in comparison, even though it's objectively speaking a prettier city. Maybe had I not lost my community, I’d have felt more favourably towards these places, but the damage was done. When I moved to New Brunswick, it felt like I’d lost everything. The people at my high school only made that loss more devastating.

As I spent day after day withdrawn and angry, my family grew further and further apart. I was growing up and it was normal, but I wasn’t ready for it to happen. Through my entire run at my high school in New Brunswick, I never had any friends that I preferred hanging out with over my dad. Unfortunately, part of growing up is hanging out with people who aren’t your dad. Gradually, our Saturday morning drives, our post-dinner shenanigans and our morning coffee faded. All those things I cherished from my childhood were becoming memories. While I should have blamed growing up, I have always blamed New Brunswick. Going through the painful parts of becoming an adult all happened for me feeling completely alone, surrounded by people I called friends that I couldn’t stand, in New Brunswick. I was angry. I wanted to blame my friends, I wanted to blame geographic location, I wanted to blame my school, but it was all just the normal phenomenon of growing up.

Knowing all this now, I’m hesitant to go back to Edmonton. I know I’d see Alberta for what it really is if I were to go back. I’d see it with the same jaded eyes that I’ve been seeing New Brunswick with for almost 9 wretched years. As much as I feel suffocated by having lived in one place as long as I ever had, I would feel so much worse if my idealised version of Alberta was ruined for me. I know that if I were to go back to Edmonton, I’d be disappointed because as much as I can go back to a place, I can’t go back to a time. No matter how much I try, I can’t go back to listening to U2 with my dad in his old toyota. I can’t go back to running around the Old Strathcona Antique Mall looking for old Nintendo games with my dad and brother. I can’t go back to listening to Jack Layton’s funeral on CBC at the Fabyan campsite. I can’t go back to hearing Bittersweet Symphony as I walked down the stairs after a shift at my first job. I can’t go back to Jack’s Place Cafe after my grade 9 band performance for a latte with my dad. I can’t go back to the happiness I felt as a child with a plane ticket. I’ll never get those moments back because I don’t miss a place: I just miss how things were when I lived there. If I were to go back to Edmonton now, what I just said would finally be real in my head. If I were to go back now, those memories of childhood joy would be corrupted by my adulthood cynicism. My heart aches for Edmonton every day, but I’ll never go back.

As a military child, places and life’s eras become so intertwined. A feeling of nostalgia presents as homesickness. Going back home isn’t possible because home doesn’t exist as it does for others. Home is more of an abstract concept, the kind that’s difficult to articulate in words. Home is so personal that, when asked where home is, I feel uncomfortable answering. In a lot of ways, home is where my family is, but my family isn’t all under one roof. They’re scattered around the maritimes, all equally displaced from where they feel is home. Home is somewhere where you feel safe, home is somewhere you you can feel rested and at ease. Home for me will never be in one place. Home is scattered and disjointed, held together by people, emotions and memories. Home is somewhere that was articulated best by Stompin’ Tom Connors: “wherever you find a heart that’s kind, you’re in a part of my stompin’ ground”. I’ve seen many beautiful parts of this country, and I now have the mental clarity to see beauty everywhere. They say home is where the heart is, but I’ve left pieces of my heart in many places I’ve lived and visited. Home is Canada, but more specifically, home is my idealistic version of Edmonton that solely exists in my memory.

[yegarts]

“I Am YEG Arts” Series: Frances Whitford

It’s been said that grandparents are the voices of the past and the door to the future. For Frances Whitford, there are few truer sentiments. It’s why she describes her business, Beadwork & Bannock, as a creation of love and legacy to her grandparents and Métis culture. Lucky for us, that gratitude and knowledge are both gifts she’s eager to share with everyone. From passing down traditions to her children to championing the Indigenous Artists Market Collective (I.A.M), Frances looks forward to continuing to promote and support the perseverance of Indigenous art and culture in our city. Artist, advocate, granddaughter, and teacher—this week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Frances Whitford.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and why you’ve made it your home.

I have a lot of family here. I’m from northeastern Alberta, just outside of Fort McMurray, so Edmonton was the closest major city and our go-to for everything—so we’ve always been connected to it. Even as a kid, we’d go to Lac Ste. Anne every summer, and then to K-Days because my grandmother had sisters and family here. From there we’d go around to Lac La Biche to the powwow before heading back home. So ever since I was a small child, I’ve spent a few weeks of every single summer here.

As an adult, what really drew me to Edmonton were the opportunities for my three children to grow. Being in a small community is great—the support you have is good, everyone knows your name, and your history, and all of those types of things—but sometimes that can put a real damper on personal growth when it comes to just wanting to spread your wings and be yourself. So all the genres of opportunities presented to them here were very alluring to all of us.

I also found the Indigenous Artists Market Collective (I.A.M) here, and that was amazing. I always say that when I found them, I found my tribe. As Lorrie Lawrence always says, it’s like a melting pot of Indigenous artists.

Tell us a bit about Beadwork & Bannock and how it came to be.

I grew up raised largely by my grandparents. They were very old-school, very Métis lifestyle, so I spent a lot of my youth on our family trapline, which my brother still runs with my cousin Jason. Despite being so immersed in my culture throughout my life, I didn’t realize then how blessed I was—not until 2011 when my grandmother passed away. She had developed Alzheimer’s around 2006, so it really felt like we lost her a lot sooner, but during that time was when I really began to realize that, wow, once she goes, all of this is gone.

My grandmother was an artisan herself and used what she earned to help supplement the family income. I loved watching her work, and a lot of time I’d get to play around sorting beads… but watching her create all these amazing things and seeing every part of the process—from trap to this beautiful pair of moccasins—was pretty cool. So when she passed away, I made my decision to allow myself to dream about making a living preserving my culture and being able to share it with others and teach my kids. Beadwork & Bannock was the answer. And there’s just so much good that has come from it. It is literally a legacy of love for my culture, my grandparents, and everything they’ve instilled in me. There were quite a few years of dreaming it up in my mind and wanting to be where I am now, but just knowing that this knowledge is for me to pass on to as many people as I can reach makes me very happy.

What inspires your design choices and the stories that your beading and clothing tell?

Again, it goes right back to my grandparents and realizing how much culture they preserved in me that I didn’t realize I carried until I was older. A lot of my beadwork designs are inspired by the work of my grandmother and from learning and exploring our Métis culture. As I did my genealogy, I realized just how far-reaching my Métis ancestry is when it comes to Canada and the United States. Because we were the landless people, we travelled so often that there are bits and pieces of my grandfathers’ and great grandfathers’ and great-great grandfathers’ families from Montana all the way through Saskatchewan and Manitoba. It’s pretty amazing to see that. So often I’ll look at all this beadwork from all over these places and feel such a connection to it. And at first, I don’t understand why until I realize it’s that ancestry that draws me in.

What’s one piece of advice you wish you’d had when starting out? And what’s something you knew instinctively that’s still serving you?

The advice I wish I’d had starting out is don’t limit yourself—don’t limit yourself to what you can and cannot do. When I first started, I felt very much that I was in this box and had to stick to mitts and moccasins and the traditional things my grandmother made. But as I’m evolving as an artist, I like to bring in contemporary elements and incorporate new-age thinking with the old—like repurposing fur coats. It’s conservation in itself. And a lot of what we do as trappers is conservation work. Some people have the misconception that we’re out there hauling out these furs and mass-producing and selling them. But, no. We’re actually doing a lot of environmental monitoring. So, for example, if there’s a species that’s low, we’re not going to harvest it. We’re going to refrain. Or if we’ve noticed a species is diseased, we’re submitting that all to the government to be tested to make sure that it’s not something invasive to these species.

The something I just knew from the get-go would probably have to be the importance of transferring knowledge. That was just the biggest driver for me after losing my grandmother and realizing that a lot of her knowledge was gone. Though I only have bits and pieces of it, I’m learning and growing on it every day, remembering more as I carry on. I also realized how important it is for us through truth and reconciliation to share that knowledge back and to give it to our future generations so that they can continue to grow on it and ground themselves with it—because that’s what it did for me.

I strongly believe that the knowledge and traditional practices I was given were meant for me to transfer, not to hold. Letting everyone know there is space for all of us to share and learn these things is something I’m very happy to do.

Tell us about someone who mentored you or helped set you on your path.

That would be my brother. I can really say that my brother has always been one of my biggest supporters and champions. When my grandmother passed away, the two of us sat down and had a conversation about my kids really needing to go to the trapline with him. They were all very small then, but I knew they needed to go with him alone because at that age Mom is everything—Mom, do this. Mom, do that. The trapline is a very wonderful and magical place, but it can also be very dangerous, so I knew they needed to build their relationship with him and the respect he required for them to safely enjoy trapline living—and to learn to grow their wings and be independent. So when my son was around 6 and my other daughter was 10 or 11, they went for their first weekend on the trapline with my brother. And that all started it. That’s when we both realized that if we didn’t transfer that knowledge, it’d be gone. From there, we started to talk about all the things that Grandma would make and decided to give it a try. The rest is history!

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

Right now, I would probably say the artists with I.A.M. They have so many stories and inspire me so much with their resilience. There’s such an incredible amount of knowledge coming off each of these artists that stems from their families and their histories. And it’s just so inspiring to me to see our art coming back and being appreciated for what it is. The dedication each and every one of them shows to their craft is incredible. We even have one artist, Agnus Jones, who I believe is 89 years old. She does a lot of the similar work that I do, and the last time I saw her at the market I told her that, in my eyes, I am just an apprentice, she is a master, and that—one day—I hope to be as good as her.

Last year, you and your son designed a T-shirt for Orange Shirt Day. What was that experience like for you?

Normally, T-shirts are right out of my element, but I just felt called to tell this story (of our family’s journey of truth and reconciliation)—and to include my children. Part of our coming to knowledge of our past with residential school really shed light on understanding that we have our own story to tell. Knowing that the world is seeing the truth now, we needed to stand in our own truth. So I just really wanted my children to understand their history, as much as I can teach it, and as much as I can learn it myself to pass it on to them so they can understand why we are the way we are these days and which direction we need to move in. I needed a positive outlet to empower them to know that healing is possible, and necessary, and important for them to think about. That’s the real legacy I’d like to leave—that we need to move forward in a positive light, and that sometimes extracting a positive from a negative situation is the best way to grow and heal. That’s what I hope my T-shirts will do.

Tell us a bit about what you’re currently working on or hoping to explore next.

What I’m working on right now is focusing more on my beadwork detail. I just want to grow a little bit more, and explore a little bit more, and venture out into making new things, like satchel-style purses.

I’ve been exploring new mediums and playing around with caribou tufting, too. And it’s like, as soon as I understand my connection to these animals and these things, all of a sudden the creative comes in and I want to work with parts of them!

The kids and I are also working on more Every Child Matters T-shirts and collaborating on some other designs.

What do you want people to understand about the importance of buying Indigenous products from Indigenous artists?

It truly is a preservation of culture and of legacy. Our Indigenous art tells the story of our history, of our connectedness to other cultures and other places, and reminds us of the unity that we need to continue to share. I think it’s good to walk in your individual light and be proud of who you are and where you come from, but it’s also good to be proud of other cultures too—to raise them up and know that you stand in unity with them. So that’s what I’d like people to know: that when they purchase Indigenous art, they’re not only supporting an artist, they’re actually preserving a culture. And that’s an amazing thing.

Describe your perfect day in Edmonton. How do you spend it?

My perfect day in Edmonton would probably be spent exploring one of the many festivals or attractions that you literally find every weekend and everywhere you turn. Spending it with my kids, of course, because I love that.

You visit Edmonton 20 years from now. What do you hope has changed? What do you hope has stayed the same?

Well, I do hope that all the festivals and everything have stayed, but what I really hope to see is more reflection of the Indigenous presence that is here in the architecture and everywhere you turn. It’s starting to look like that now, but I’d really like it to be strongly visible. For example, the history behind the river lot that was here really needs to come to the surface—and in a good way. Because even though it’s a dark history, it’s a very positive place, and I love being there.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Frances Whitford, Beadwork & Bannock, and more.

About Frances Whitford

Frances Whitford is originally from Anzac, Alberta, but now calls Edmonton home. She was raised by her grandparents and grew up surrounded by Métis culture and craft, spending much time on the family trapline. Frances learned most of her craft from her grandmother, a Métis artisan, who made various pieces for the family and to sell in an effort to supplement the family’s income. Her grandfather was a trapper who would supply the furs and hides needed for her grandmother’s craft. Today, Frances’s brother has stepped into the role of trapper and supplies a large amount of the hides and furs that allow Frances to continue to learn and hone her skills.

Frances’s pieces, such as moccasins, mukluks, gauntlet mitts, and other Métis-oriented items, are made mainly of traditional and commercial-tanned moose hides, as well as beaver, fox, lynx, rabbit, and various other types of furs. Some of her Beadwork & Bannock pieces also include her beadwork.

As Treasurer of the Indigenous Artists Market Collective (I.A.M), Frances looks forward to continuing to promote, support, and participate in the advocacy and perseverance of Indigenous art and culture that she sees thriving in this city.

[phawareglobal]

Maureen Harper - phaware® interview 495

Maureen Harper, a CTEPH patient from Canada, shares her journey with this rare condition. She initially thought she had an infection in her leg, but further tests revealed enlarged pulmonary arteries and multiple blood clots in her lungs. After being diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension, she underwent a complex surgery in Toronto to attempt to remove the clots. Maureen continues to work full-time as a pharmacy technician, remains active with her family and Girl Guide unit, and maintains a positive outlook, choosing to focus on the positives rather than dwell on the negatives.

I am Maureen Harper, and I’m from Olds, Alberta and I’m a CTEPH patient. I had a lump on the front of my leg, on my shin. It looked like an infection, so the doctors put me on antibiotics. So I did six weeks of oral antibiotics, six days of IV antibiotics, and it kept growing. They decided it was not an infection, so they sent me to a dermatologist. The dermatologist was like, “Well, that’s weird.” And by this point, of course the lump is gone because that was six months later. So, he’s like, “I think it might be something else.” He sent me for an X-ray. The X-ray showed I had an enlarged pulmonary trunk, so he’s like, “Oh, you’re not mine.” He sent me to a cardiologist.   The cardiologist put me on the treadmill to do a stress test, and my heart did great and my oxygen just kept dropping and dropping and dropping. So, they pulled me off the treadmill and I’m like, “Just give me a minute. I recover really quick. I can pop back on and we can finish this. She’s like, “No, no, you can’t.” The cardiologist was like, “Wow, that’s weird. Let’s do a V/Q scan and just rule out pulmonary embolism, so make sure you don’t have blood clots in your lungs.” We went into the V/Q scan. My husband and I were sitting there together and we’re waiting for results. They’re like, “Yeah, the radiologist wanted to talk to you. We’re going to move you to this waiting room.”   They moved us to a waiting room by ourselves. Then, some other people got moved into our waiting room. They moved us to another waiting room, and some more people got added to that waiting room. So, they moved us to a third waiting room. I looked at my husband and went, “Something’s wrong.” He was like, “What do you mean?” I’m said, “They just keep putting us in waiting rooms by ourselves.” He was like, “Oh.” The radiologist came out and said, “So you’ve got embolisms in your lungs and a lot. How are you feeling?” I’m like, “Fine.”    I got to go see my cardiologist. He said, “Yeah, you’re not my patient. We need to treat you now.” He put me on a blood thinner and said, “You need to see a pulmonologist.” That’s how I ended up in the PH clinic. I had one meeting with them and they immediately wanted to do a right heart cath to see what was going on. I was diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension. Then, a little while later, we did some more testing and that’s when we figured out it was CTEPH.   My doctor in Calgary actually didn’t think I would qualify for the surgery, just where all my clots and stuff were, but they sent my stuff off to Toronto anyway. It came back saying, yeah, they think they could help. I was originally booked into surgery at the end of August. I’m said, “Oh my God, I can’t do the end of August.” My daughters had just graduated. They were starting college, and I’m like, “They can’t start college without mom.” I still need to be there in case they need some support or the paperwork didn’t go through or whatever. So, we bumped it until October.   It all kind of goes really quickly. You get flown out to Toronto from Alberta, and we flew out Friday, spent Friday night in a hotel. Saturday, I got admitted into the hospital to start heparin therapy and blood thinning therapy to help make sure I’m safe for surgery. I was there Saturday and Sunday. Monday morning around 6:30, they came in and said, “It’s time to go.” They roll you down. The surgery eight to nine hours. Then, you’re sedated for 24 hours just to give your body a chance to recover. My husband did not enjoy that 24-hour period. I did not wake up from sedation really well. They took three different tries to get me to wake up.    Then, you start the recovery process. We were in Toronto for nine days, flew home. I did really well for the first week or so, and then my daughter came home from work one day and looked at me and said, “Mom, you don’t look very good.” I said, “I don’t feel very good.” I’ve got a headache, and I’m just off. She said, “All right, let’s go.” She packed me off to the hospital and they took one look at me, went, “Well, get comfy, you’re staying.”   We were in a small hospital. I spent a week there and came home for a couple of days and got sick again. That’s when I ended up in the Peter Lougheed for a week. It was a bit of a bumpy ride, but at least I was home for the bumpy part of it. The part in Toronto went pretty smooth. After we did the couple of weeks in and out of hospitals, I actually did really well. I was still working. I worked through the entire process. I would work an eight hour a day and then I could walk four kilometers at night. I was feeling great and doing really well for about 18 months, and then I couldn’t walk anymore.   They did another right heart cath and discovered that my pressures actually had gone up and instead of CTEPH being a cure for me, they were able to get out the big clots, but there’s a bunch of little clots that are very distal, so very deep in my lungs, and they couldn’t get to those. So, those ones get to stay, and I still get to have CTEPH. Medically, they called the surgery unsuccessful.   My husband and I kind of batted that around a little bit, and he said, “It wasn’t unsuccessful. They took out massive clots out of your lungs.” Even though my lung didn’t improve and doesn’t work like it’s supposed to, at least those clots are out of there. So, I might still have little ones all through, but I still have less clot that’s in there. My angiogram before surgery and post-surgery, according to my doctor, looked pretty much the same, so it really didn’t make any difference to my lungs, but at least I’m not fighting the extra clots that were in there.   Medically going forward, I am on oxygen therapy. I’m on Adempas, which is made specifically for CTEPH, and I’m on ambrisentan, which also works for PH. We’re just trying to see if we can figure out a way to figure out my symptoms versus what my blood work says. My blood work says I’m doing real good, but going for a walk says I’m not doing real good.    So not much changed in my life. I work a 40-hour work week. I’m a pharmacy technician, so I’m on my feet all day in a very busy pharmacy. I have three kids. They’re all technically grown-ups now. Then, I have a Girl Guide unit and we do crafts and activities. We go to camps and do everything all the other Girl Guide units can do, and we just kind of keep carrying on like we normally would.   If I’m taking my Girl Guides camp or anything, we go on hikes. Previously, I was able to carry my tank in a backpack, because I didn’t need as much oxygen as I do now. Now, I have my tanks in a rolly cart and it just rolls behind me. We start at the beginning of the year with, “This is my friend, I call him Big Tom.” He comes everywhere with us and he helps me breathe, and they don’t bat an eye at it. Hopefully, from that what they learn is people with disabilities can do stuff too. There’s nothing holding us back. We can do whatever we want.   I guess it was never an option for me that I wouldn’t continue working. I’ve always worked my whole life. The company I was with, I’d been with for many, many years when I got diagnosed. I’d been there about 11 years when I got diagnosed. My pharmacy team and my owner were fantastic and wanted to know what they could do to help. For a lot of the time, it didn’t make any difference. I pop a couple pills a day and they don’t know about it or they don’t do anything about it.   As things have progressed, it has changed. I took time off to go for surgery and stuff like that. Then, when I got put on oxygen, we put a concentrator in the pharmacy and ran tubing. Then, when I could go to a tank, which was easier, I put it in a backpack and I carried it in a backpack and COVID had hit. So when I got put on oxygen, I was wearing a mask. I wear my tubing down my front because I trip on it because I’m a bit of a klutz. Lots of customers didn’t even know I was on oxygen until we stopped wearing masks a couple of years ago. Then, they were all really surprised to see that that’s what I had been doing, but to me, it was never an option to quit, because I didn’t feel sick enough that I needed to quit.   As a support team, I’ve got my husband and I’ve got my three kids and they’ve always got my back. They’ll do whatever I need. If I can’t carry something, then they carry it for me. When I was using tanks at work, my son would bring my extra tanks in, so there was always tanks there for me to switch out.    I’ve been a part of PHA Canada since probably 2018 or so, but I felt like a lot of those people were sicker than I was. I didn’t need their support or it felt like I didn’t need their support. I was always kind of in the background on the Facebook group, just kind of chilling and reading. Most of the people weren’t working and most of the people were having a lot of issues and I wasn’t, so I didn’t feel like I needed the extra support that they had.   I’ve always been a busy person, and I find if you’re busy, then you don’t have time to kind of dwell on the what ifs. PH is not my only chronic condition. I had brain surgery 10 years ago. If you Google the stuff, if you look it up online, it’s terrifying. In my brain surgery group, everybody’s terrified of dying on the table and I’m like, “Oh, that didn’t even really dawn on me, because I trust my surgeons.” So through the brain surgery, through the lung surgery, neither time did it dawn on me or did I dwell on the fact that this is a life-threatening surgery, I could die on it. During the CTEPH surgery, the PTE surgery, they actually stop your heart and your lungs quite a few times as they clean out the clots, so you’re technically dead on the table, because there’s nothing flowing through your system.   But I didn’t look at it that way. Somebody else told me, “You’re dead on the table.” And I’m like, “What? No, no, they’re just busy working. They just need a clean field.” It’s all mentally how you look at it. As a pharmacy technician, in the medical field a bit, I have some more knowledge than maybe the average person, so it didn’t scare me as much as some other people who are maybe not in the field. 

I’ve dealt with a lot of negative people in my life, so I find that you can get up every morning and choose to be happy or you can choose to be miserable. I just choose to be happy. I’m always kind of trying to look for the happy outcomes or the happy side of things in order to keep things positive. If you choose to be miserable, you can have a really miserable life, but I’ve decided to be happy and try to find the positive in everything.   I’m Maureen Harper and I’m aware that I’m rare.

Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware Share your story: info@phaware.com Like, Subscribe and Follow us: www.phawarepodcast.com. @phacanada 

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

[zombielovescore]

I guess because it's late and I have been feeling a lot of emotions today, I'm in a ranting/rambling mood. I have also been drinking (a bit) and I have to take my cat in for dental surgery early tomorrow AND THAT IS ALSO STRESSING ME OUT because she is my child - but I am having thoughts about family.

Families are fucking messy. I don't know or understand why, but they are fucking messy stupid little things. And they shouldn't be, but they are.

I don't even know where I want to go with this post. I just have a lot of thoughts, but don't really know how to formulate any of them.

Like, you'd think a family would be a strong bond of unity between people of famial blood - and a lot of things tell you that it should be. Like, you hear that stupid addage of "blood is thicker than water" - nevermind that there is actually more to the quote, but that's not the point. Families are supposed to be a cohesive unit; they're supposed to work together, but does anyone actually have a family that isn't completely dysfunctional?

When I was growing up, I never knew anyone from my dad's side of the family. My dad left home when he was 18 and joined the army and married a Catholic girl that his parents didn't approve of - this was like the late '50s (for context: my father was much older than my mother - this woman was not my mother) and basically never really spoke to any of his siblings from that point on. My dad's parents died long before I was born. My dad had 3 daughters I had never met, and I only met 2 of them after my father had died. I have resigned myself to the fact that I will probably never meet the last one. I only met my dad's siblings after the only sibling of his I had contact with (again, after he died) died herself and I went to fucking Brantford, Ontario to go to her funeral. This is also where I met the second sister, as only one had come to Calgary for my dad's service.

So, in comparison, my mom's family seemed really fucking functional. I can't say I grew up with my cousins or my grandparents (my mom's side) because I did not. They all lived in the great lakes area of Ontario and we were in Alberta (also, I find it hilarious that both my parents are from Ontario but they both ended up in Calgary, of all places) but when I was young we would go out there every couple of summers and sometimes some of them would come visit us. Yadda, yadda. So I had my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, and it was great - we will ignore the fact that I had an uncle I didn't like for reasons I will not get into here, but let's just say he's part of the current family drama, so quelle suprise there.

And I guess when you are a kid, you don't notice the drama going on around you. Because, why would you? Going to Ontario to visit the family was the absolute best. You had your grandparents, your favourite aunt and uncle, you got to swim at the lakes in cottage country- it was fucking awesome.

Anyways, drama llama, fast forward years later, and you start to learn shit you didn't know. You now know things about people who you thought were absolute paragons of Great People. And this sounds omnious, like I'm leading up to a horrible family secret and I'm really not, but you learn that people, even your family, kind of suck.

None of this really came to light until I was in my mid-20s and my grandfather was dying. We had long since stopped "family summer vacation" because all us kids (my mom's kids) were adults and working and it just wasn't a thing anymore. So, whatever, my mom was there, I went there because at the time I was at a job that would actually let me have time off, one of my brothers was living in Ottawa at the time, so he was there. My grandfather died, we had the funeral, and then shit hit the fan.

So, my mother and her brother, were the POAs of financial and medical, respectively, for my grandparents. My mom's oldest sister was absolutely pissed she was not the POA of my grandfather's financials. My mother is a registered accountant, which is why her father chose her. Apparently, this rubbed my aunt the wrong way. Also, apparently, the reason the same said sister was not chosen as POA for health was because my grandfather thought that she would basically let my grandmother die. So, yes, my grandfather, my eldest aunt's very own father, did not chose her as POA for health because he thought she'd let her own mother die, because apparently (according to my mother) she didn't like her. I feel like that says a lot, but nevermind. So, when my grandfather died - my aunt was beyond pissed, and they (being the aunt, her husband- the one I don't like - and her daughter) tried to force their way into my grandparent's house (which my uncle was living in at the time, but owned by my mom) to look through his stuff. And later, this same aunt decided to get my other aunt into a pact where they decided they would not speak to my mom - this was over money. They were mad because apparently they thought my mom was hiding all the assets, completely disregarding the fact that everything went to my grandmother until she died (I am happy to report at this time, almost 7 years later, she is 94 years old and still going strong - if very addled with dementia. She may not know who anyone is, but god damn if that woman can't find a way to escape the locked dementia ward of a senior's home).

So, the short of that is two of my mother's sisters decide to simply stop speaking to her because of money issues that were not even hers to control, other than she had to act according to the will seeing as that's basically how wills work. This was exacerbated by aforementioned least favourite uncle (also said aunt's husband, which I think I mentioned) - who, I learned after the fact, was a complete asshole to my grandfather, and also who basically spent my grandfather's reception at the Legion in Trenton getting drunk with his friends instead of actually spending time with the grieving family - I didn't read too much into it at the time because I was, you know, grieving, as people do at funerals.

So, fast forward now and my mother and one of her sisters have since made up, because her husband had ALS and was actively dying - this is the uncle who is passing away in a few days. The eldest aunt my my mom are still not on speaking terms. But basically, fuck them. If she and TerribleUncle Whom I Have Never Liked want to continue to be assholes, I have suffered no loss.

Anyways, I have learned a lot about my aunt, who my mother is now speaking to, and my uncle who is currently dying in the last few years. These used to be my favourite aunt and uncle. My uncle, in particular, would always take us out on the lake in his boat and it was so awesome. We would go and collect lilypads and bring them back to shore. I absolutely loved this guy. And I still do, honestly, because it's hard to reconcile the people you knew them as with the people you learn that they are. But I learned that both of them actively emotionally abused their eldest daughter and would treat her like shit, while their youngest daughter could basically never do anything wrong. This is why she left home and basically never came back.

I never knew any of this until my mom told me, and I'm one of the only people who still keeps in contact with this cousin, and though she doesn't actively say anything about it, I've learned a lot from her responses and about how in the dark she was about her dad's diagnosis. Literally no one, not her mom, not her dad, not her sister was taking to her. And it took her dad, several years after receiving a terminal diagnosis, when he was actively in full decline, to finally reach out to her and tell her that he was dying. And even now, when he is literally receiving medical assistance to die in a day, he was the only one who bothered to reach out and tell her. Her mother, my aunt, didn't call her, her sister didn't call her. And like, that's a level of fucked up I can't even begin to comprehend. I don't particularly get along with my older brother, but I still fucking called him when my dad died.

And this post really got away from me and it is absolutely way too long and rambling, but I guess the basic gist of it is, is that even if you think your family isn't horrible and dysfunctional, it turns out that they kind of are???

And y'all, we haven't even gotten into the literal novel I could write about the dysfunction of my immediate family.

And I guess if anyone has actually read this and has a burning desire to know, the reason I dislike that particular uncle is because when I was a kid (like 4) he almost set me on fire (unintentional, probably), but also I have a very vivid memory of when I was like maybe 9 and we were at their house in Ajax and I was arguing with my brothers about something (I don't remember what), but I remember they were in the other room and I was sitting at a computer desk and I said something (probably some dumb kid thing), and this fucking man burst into the room and fucking slapped me, very hard, across the face until I cried (intentional, definitely). He did not do the same to my brothers, who were also saying some dumb stupid kid things. And that basically coloured every interaction I've had with him since and made me wonder if he slapped his own daughter that way. (Probably not, because she is an entitled princess). And basically, you don't slap your own child that way, let alone somebody else's.

[jinxxedmisery]

I just wanted to come here and say, I'm sorry I haven't been active lately.

I haven't gotten around to requests in like months.. thankfully only one is in my inbox right now.

I also haven't been doing a lot of art.. things have happened which I will vent about... because my therapy appointment is over a month away and where else can I vent if not tumblr..

Tw mental health stuff, general health stuff, transphobia, relationship drama.

So happy Pride Month... it's nearly over, I know.. but oh well. Like a lot of people are saying, this pride month feels different.. less safe.. I came out as nonbinary to my family last year and started socially transitioning and I have known I was pansexual since 14.... so this stuff kinda hits hard.,

Even being in Canada it's scary seeing all this hate.. it's not as bad here.. but haha.. I happen to live in Alberta.. half the population here is homophobic, godfearing, truckers, cowboys, and farmers.... so I feel a sense of danger every time I'm open about it..

I went to a parade in my town.. we have a yearly event in June.. it's not pride.. but I kinda treat it as a form of pride.. I wore my pronoun pin badge I bought shortly after I came out. One of the town four churches has a Vacation Bible School program and a woman who is a pastor's wife always every year comes up to me and tells me she wants me to volunteer to help them out and kinda forces me to take an info packet....

Yeah.. this year she looked directly at my pin badge and talked to my parents instead basically pretending I didn't exist which was kinda funny and a huge relief.. hope this stops her from bothering me In the future... I did notice a few people look at it as well and like body block their child... which was so stupid.. istg conservatives think we're the boogeyman or some shit. Also kept getting misgendered... some lady who knew me from my childhood says "oh you've grown into such a beautiful young lady" and I straight up felt ill..

Anyway.. during that event my mother had a medical emergency.. she had a mini stroke.. my mom was very confused wasn't aware of her surroundings.. she's normally super resistant to going to the hospital and will fight you.. but she was so confused she got up, got her shoes on and got into the car and walked into the hospital without a fight...later she nearly punched me in the face while we were trying to hold her down so the nurses could get an IV in.. (they don't have daytime security at the local hospital and they don't have restraints) she said she doesn't remember any of it..,

As for my relationship.. I still have a boyfriend.. he's been pretty busy with work though.. his boss moved him to a super inconvenient schedule 3pm to 9pm.. every single day, no days off..

He's also had so much trouble with his car that it's not even funny. It's all been the coolant.. he thinks he's fixed it though so.. I'm hoping that won't be an issue as much.

So it's been hard for us (especially me.., because.. like my last relationship ended shortly after my ex couldn't make it out to see me.., he did finally admit it was excuses so.. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was afraid of that happening again) but we're enduring it.. he's a sweetheart and has been making time to talk to me after work almost every night until he gets too tired to continue..

It helps a lot.. he makes me feel wanted and he is trying his best to make it work so we can see eachother in person 😊he'll be coming out tomorrow morning and staying until 1pm.. we only get 2 hrs together but it's fine.. any amount of time with him that I get is worth it.

I promised him one day if he's able to visit for longer we'll watch Heathers: The Musical and get slushies... mountain dew, cherry or lime flavored ofc (iykyk) he's into that idea thankfully lol..

it's a requirement that everyone in my life watches Heathers at least once... I've seen it so many times I could almost recite the entire thing... 🤭

But that's all for now, when I get the motivation I will write requests!

[college-girl199328]

Sarah Nesbitt turned 40 on Sunday but says she is if she will be around to celebrate many more birthdays. Nesbitt, a resident of Moncton, N.B., said she began experiencing symptoms of a neurological disorder of unknown cause in the summer of 2020.

She is part of a group of New Brunswick patients who say they are from a mystery brain illness. But the provincial government maintains that there is no new neurological disorder and that studies have shown that are likely suffering from known diseases. On Tuesday, Nesbitt joined a group of patients and their families who have called on the provincial government to investigate the link between their symptoms and environmental toxins -- particularly the popular weed killer glyphosate. The news conference was organized by the Green Party of New Brunswick.

Their call for new investigations came after their doctor, Dr. Alier Marrero, asked federal and provincial health authorities in January about the link between their symptoms and the herbicide. "I had a lot of different symptoms that all piled up to realize, 'OK, this is something going on,"' Nesbitt said. "I went to my doctor in November of 2020. And he couldn't find anything."

A slate of tests later, she said her doctor thought she had multiple sclerosis. "For almost two years, I thought that's what I had."

Nesbitt was referred to Marrero last year, who tested for and ruled out diseases such as cancer, epilepsy, and multiple sclerosis, she said. But further tests have shown that she has high levels of glyphosate and other chemicals in her system. Health Canada said on its website that glyphosate is the most widely used herbicide in the country and figures prominently in the agricultural industry. Products containing glyphosate control weeds, including toxic plants such as poison ivy.

Marrero said in a letter dated Jan. 30 to Dr. Theresa Tam, Canada's chief public health officer, and Dr. Yves Leger, New Brunswick's chief medical officer of health, that he has been working with about 147 patients experiencing symptoms such as rapidly progressing dementia, muscle spasms, atrophy, and other complications. Marrero said also been reported in Alberta, Quebec, and Nova Scotia.

"I am particularly concerned about the increase in numbers of young-onset and early-onset neurological syndrome," he said in the letter. "I now call to your attention one of the major hypotheses extensively discussed during previous meetings with national and international experts, including possible environmental toxins."

Tests from patients in Nova Scotia show high amounts of glyphosate and other compounds from that family. "On behalf of our patients and families, I request your support to further and detailed testing of patients and environments for these and other toxins."

New Brunswick health authorities concluded in a February 2022 report that "there is no evidence of a cluster with a neurological syndrome of unknown cause." They said that the cluster of diseases had been subject to "many theories" based on "speculation, uncorroborated opinions, and the absence of a thorough analysis of epidemiological and clinical information."

The province said a review of 48 cases of patients suffering from a neurological syndrome of unknown cause found that the patients didn't have symptoms in common or a shared illness. On Tuesday, New Brunswick Health Minister Bruce Fitch told reporters he was briefed about Marrero's letter.

"Public health is drafting a response," he said. "If they require more information, they will go back to the doctor in question and get that information and then proceed from there," Fitch said that it's difficult for families and patients when they don't get the answers they want.

Nesbitt said she is heartbroken that she had to give up her cabin and dream of living in a rural area because she suffers from seizures, tremors, and moments where she doesn't know where she is, "almost like dementia. The sad part is I'm going to rapidly keep on declining."

[tempestaslokni]

Selin mentioned that she had seen some fishing supplies in the warehouse and that she knew where it was. That was a promising start. "That sounds like a good idea, with my luck I'd get lost on my own. The outdoors is one thing, but I tend to get lost in buildings pretty easily." Lokni admitted, grateful for her assistance. As they made their way in the supposed direction of the warehouse, Selin turned, facing him as she walked backwards, continuing their conversation. It was a very cute gesture, she was very open and amicable. "I've never caught crab before, the best spots were more out west. You do a lot of crab fishing where you're from?" she inquired, her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke. Lokni smiled pensively, "Can't say I got the opportunity to do it too often, but sometimes my mother and I would drive up north to Washington. We would rent a cabin near the ocean and head down to the pier there. Although, those crabs were a little different than the ones here. The ones back home were red." He smiled at the fond memory. Selin had mentioned that she was from Alberta, Edmonton specifically. He knew of that area- had even been there to do a favor for one of his mother's old friends. There was a good amount of Cree up in that area, and his mother's friend, a Cree woman named Ayamis, had asked for some help at an auction. Ayamis worked for the WHOA Society up in that area- she wanted to outbid the meat-buyers that would place bids on the wild horses from that area. It was a lot of complicated business, but essentially if wild horses were removed from private property or highways, according to the law they weren't allowed to be released into the wild again. Lokni thought that it was a load of hogwash, but then again, what did he know. Their facility was up in Sundre, which was closer to Calgary than Edmonton if he was recalling it correctly. Transporting all of those horses would have been pretty difficult for Ayamis by herself, so that's where Lokni and his mother came in. "I know that area, not too well, but I've been to Sundre and Calgary on business. Beautiful land up there, lots of mountains and wide open spaces. What kind of work did you do out there?" In the distance, The Hub was a blur of activity, however, all the sounds seemed to be drowned out as Seline and Lokni walked on, conversing casually. Seline also mentioned that she had a lot of sisters, and at least one brother to boot. "I didn't realize that you came from such a large family. What's that like? What 'number' are you in the order?" Selin did carry herself with an air of responsibility and experience as if she spent a lot of time interacting with and talking to people. She was very easy to talk to. Even Lokni could pick up on that easily enough, he wasn't the best with words, or with talking with people for that matter. He was "a doer, not a talker." At least that's what Big Jim said when introducing him to new ranchhands that were just getting started out. "Do you have any other hidden talents? Besides fishing that is?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"Oh, yeah I can show you where I saw the different fishing stuff. It's probably better to go together, that place is so big I feel like someone could get lost in there." she explained, ignoring the prior thoughts she was having while in exploring the warehouse with Zaid. No way their arrival on this beach would result in some sort of gorey killing game recorded for the entertainment of whatever sick person (or people?) that dropped them here in the first place. But they were here for a reason, but until that reason gets explained to them, she shouldn't go off the deep end.

Perhaps that attempt to rid her mind of any horrible thoughts of what horrible fate awaited them once they collected their bearings was more obvious than she thought. Glancing over to the side Selin could see Lokni adjusting his stride, like he was trying to keep up but not loom too closely over her. Normally Selin would keep herself aware of how closely a man might be lurking behind her, but this didn't feel like one of those times where she felt she needed to be vigilant. So to keep him from thinking she might have been on guard, Selin turned and walked backwards through the sand to keep up conversation.

"I've never caught crab before, the best spots were more out west. You do a lot of crab fishing where you're from?" She was curious about the people here, assuming slipping in little personal questions in casual conversation would make it easier for them to talk. Perhaps there was a correlation between them without them even knowing. Her initial reaction is maybe he lived in BC, the starting and working theory that perhaps everyone lived somewhere in Canada before ending up here. Not that she knew what kind of reasoning for doing this would be because of that but, that's why it was just a working theory.

"I'm from Edmonton. In Alberta. So I got roped into a lot of fishing trips growing up. My dad wanted someone to go with and none of my sisters wanted to go, and my brother was pretty young at the time so my dad would take me with him. And it wasn't all that bad. I guess in this scenario it's a good thing I learned."

[carrickbender]

Friday five:

- Today is my 6th 12 hr shift in a row. Tomorrow, by some miracle of the universe, starts 4 luxurious days off.

"Off"

I have lots of projects on(new faucet, mow the back yard, install more fire extinguishers, replace 3 more outlets, go through boxes that came from the storage unit, make space so that H can finally finish a cabinet project for the family room), plus finally get quotes for a mini-split and refi my personal loan. On top of all that, I have to go drop off a cheque for my mom for her horse about 35 miles away...yeah... "allegedly".

- I'm going to a rummage sale at a local museum tomorrow am, and I'm seriously stoked. There's some Bennett prints on offer, and a ceramic Christmas tree that H really wants, so if I can score it and keep it on the sly, I'm gonna!!! Love silly surprises like that!

- Henry had his first appointment with the speech therapist yesterday, and she pretty much confirmed what we thought: sounds are getting lost between his mouth and his brain. She was pleasantly surprised at the quantity and quality of his vocabulary, as well as his use of please and thank you. H and I just looked at each other and smiled... #parentingwin

- had some reese's pieces this evening. Like a few, then the bag went bye bye. I think I just want a taste, like a reminder, that things tasted the way they did. Tbh, I have no idea when I had that stuff last. But I do know that solves that curiosity.

- My mom has been sending me pics from Northern Alberta, where she and her BF and his son are attending a national "skeet" shooting competition and her BF and his son are competing. They are having monstrous thunderstorms. And while i love those pics, what I can't get over is how gorgeous the prarie looks. It's like a loafing pillow of loamy wonder, the kind of place where things grow not because they are forced to grow but most be coaxed into not growing. All the while, I see these pics and think of the lyric, "And all you hear are the rusty breezes Pushing around the weathervane Jesus". If you want really amazing pics of Alberta, check out @kedveltphoto 's work.

Rest easy yall!