I am a history person: I cannot resist learning about the past. So it was with pleasure that I noticed, as I drove east from Summerland, a sign indicating a point of historic interest. It seemed a good place to stop, so I found myself wandering around the site of the Last Spike. Later in the journey, east of Thunder Bay, Bern and I stopped in at the memorial to Terry Fox. I enjoyed both of these immensely, despite their brevity. It's always interesting to reflect about what spirits may be nearby, and how they came to be in that place in the past. I probably have felt that feeling most intensely when at the sites of the Plains of Abraham in Quebec City or at Batoche in Saskatchewan, and Bernie and I also stopped at the Agawa pictographs in northern Ontario: so many spirits nearby. Anyway, as each juncture of a person's life passes, history is an interesting contemplation, whether political, social, or personal.

And it is on that note that I will answer a question several people have asked: are you going back to BC to work? The short answer is no. The long answer, for those into detail and reasons, is that while I enjoyed working at The Glenfir School, and became very fond of many of my colleagues and students, there were reasons not to return. One important one was financial: while Bern and I had contemplated a move west, if the circumstances were conducive, we discovered that the Okanagan Valley has become prohibitively expensive. We just couldn't afford a house, despite my good job. To move across a country, you need to be advancing, and the move would have set us back financially for a considerable time to come. Another reason was that we have three children in the east; granted, our son is going to university this fall in another province, but it's easier to hop on a plane to visit him than to move lock, stock and barrel. A third reason, although this was slightly less important, was the prospective teaching assignment. I would have had to teach grades four through ten English; I am really a senior teacher. I like the scholarship, or at least the potential for scholarship, in grades nine through twelve. Because of the demographics of the school, I would have had to take on the challenge of grades four through six, and to be honest, that proposition did not appeal. I had taught grades five and six drama, with some effect, but I am more skilled with older children (although my grades seven through nine this year were fun).

Anyway, for all of these reasons, I have come home. Now, where home will be remains to be seen: while Bernie and I like Gatineau, we are also interested in buying more land and in "gentleman farming", so to speak. He and I share this interest, so are looking at different possible locales, including in the Hawkesbury-Cornwall-Brockville belt south of Ottawa, and of course, in my beloved Saskatchewan.

Winter isn't a good enough reason not to go somewhere. I never thought I'd say that, since I am not a big fan of cold, and with my bum knees, don't find it easy to walk in winter on the rough surfaces of ice...but I suppose, in the future, that perhaps I will be fortunate enough to balance between life in the Canadian spring, summer, and fall, and perhaps a more tropical winter. We still have a home in Belize... but enough speculation. I am trying to learn that wherever you are, there you are, and to take each pleasure in the present moment. That includes this moment, now, writing about what might happen and what has happened. Time to re-read Eckhart Tolle...