canada day 2014

We are gearing up for a sweet, small town Canada Day here in Beaver Creek.
Long are the days of squeezing onto the Hill, cramming to catch a glimpse of the Prime Minister and joining 100's of thousands of other party goers. There won't be fancy fireworks (it doesn't get dark here), there won't be any big name musicians playing on the Hill at night time.
Nowadays, we enjoy the simple life. The parade, the face painting, and cupcakes ... with sweet little Canada flags.
This year I will help my kids bike along in the parade, while hubby marches on in the front (wearing his red serge). I will paint faces for the kids, and help the decorate their bicycles with red and white.
It will be simple, quiet, easy and just what we like.
Most of all it will be quintessentially Canadian. Up in the far North, surrounded by some of the most breathtaking scenery our beautiful country has to offer, and my Mountie, marching in the parade.
Make no mistake, I am one fiercely proud Canadian
Happy Canada Day friends!
xox

here's 50 of the 100 cupcakes that I am making for our Canada Day bbq!

two roads project :: make

:: make 

Sarah (left): I spent the afternoon carefully arranging the layers of my sister's birthday cake. She is turning 20, entering into the decade most spend "figuring it out," and "finding" themselves. I am so excited for her, and for myself. I will get to witness her growth, and be here cheering her on, with her nieces. When it came to celebrating her big day, I decided to go decadent. I made this Better Than You-Know-What cake, that I pinned from here. I cooked the caramel sauce from scratch, broke the Skor bars in a bag with a hammer, and added confetti sprinkles on the top to make it a real birthday treat. The house smelled amazing while cake cooled, and everyone asked me repeatedly when we could eat it. We ate it around my grandma's dining table, digging in with our forks (and hands, in some cases), licking our lips and leaving hardly a piece for the birthday girl to take home afterwards. 

Johanna (right): This week has been about making summer memories. 

Feeling restless and bored, I decided to come into Whitehorse for a few days, to stay with Leanne and for the kids to have some fun. 
On the way into town, we pulled over by beautiful Kluane Lake. We had never been down to the shore and while it added a bit of extra time to the trip, it was worth it to me. Ice cream was had in Haines Junction. We never get to go out for ice cream. The kids were over the moon.
Once in Whitehorse, we did a little road trip to Carcross, went to see a movie (HTTYD2), had a picnic while listening to live music at Art in the Park, went to the Farmer's Market (and had cupcakes) and more. More than once, I heard Noah say, " this is a very special day, isn't it Mommy?". 

Yes, it has been special. There may have been a bit of spoiling, but we don't usually get to do these things and I wanted the kids just to feel like it was a special time. Making summer memories is so worth it to me. 

The well-known poem by Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken ends, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

Two women, who became friends via the magic of the Internet, were both living life on roads less traveled by. Circumstance had them both live in Whitehorse for a short time, where they became best friends. Life's map has them currently in differing geographic locations, but their connection and camaraderie continue as they continue on paths of motherhood, friendship, creativity and discovery. The Two Roads Project is our effort to reconnect with each other and our inner artists on a weekly basis, each Friday. (Or thereabouts. We don't always know which day of the week it is).

Sarah writes here.  

two roads project :: afternoon

afternoon

Johanna (left): Afternoons are all about striking a balance. 
With school out for the summer, I find that I am trying to meet both Noah and Katia's needs, and right now we are sort of out of a rhythm. 
While Katia is used to napping in the afternoon, Noah is used to going to school. She craves a quiet, restful time, while Noah needs to be entertained and engaged. 
We've been spending time in the afternoon doing both. 
We swim for an hour every afternoon, and often take a walk with Ryder. Sometimes naps happen early in the afternoon, sometimes later. It is summer after all, so I am trying to let go of the idea of a schedule, and instead, just let the kids tell me what they need and want. 

Sarah (right): I'd like to say that when 1:00 rolls around, I put my feet up, open a book and chilllllll out. What really happens during the girls' nap time, is I capitalize on the time I have to get things done around the house without my little helpers at my side. I get house chores done, fix what needs fixing, and prepare dinner. Making dinner at 4:00 with a bunch of hungry little ladies crying, whining, flailing at my feet is not a fun way to cook. So, I make their supper while they take their siestas, taking my time. This way, we get to eat home-cooked whole foods and avoid the frantic hour before suppertime. I usually listen to a podcast, letting the recipe develop with new additions, substitutions, a lot of experimenting. Today, I prepared a tomato sauce for tomorrow's pizza: onions, carrots, garlic, tomatoes, tomato paste, oregano, fresh basil from the garden, salt, pepper and a little brown sugar. I simmered it, and then pureed it, (because I absolutely cannot leave any chunks of anything or risk facing the mutiny of the five-year-old). It's a good batch, this one. 

The well-known poem by Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken ends, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

Two women, who became friends via the magic of the Internet, were both living life on roads less traveled by. Circumstance had them both live in Whitehorse for a short time, where they became best friends. Life's map has them currently in differing geographic locations, but their connection and camaraderie continue as they continue on paths of motherhood, friendship, creativity and discovery. The Two Roads Project is our effort to reconnect with each other and our inner artists on a weekly basis, each Friday. (Or thereabouts. We don't always know which day of the week it is).

Sarah writes here.  

how does your garden grow?

We've been so fortunate this summer to be able to use the community greenhouse and garden here in Beaver Creek. It is a space where everyone is welcome, and they have one employee who has been helping to make the space beautiful, accessible and welcoming.
On Mother's Day, we went in and planted out little seedlings. Almost one month later, we have a huge box bursting with green plants and good smells (the basil is so fragrant!).
The greenhouse holds special memories for me and  as I have said before provides me with a quiet place to be when I need it. It is where we met Ryder, and is also a very family friendly place for the kids to go to.
Steve, the young man who works there, invited myself and the kids to come over and do some planting. He had started some seedlings inside the greenhouse and wanted to transplant them outside into the garden beds. Noah and Katia enjoyed doing their work and had lots of questions for Steve about spiders, blankets over the garden beds and different veggies.
This evening we enjoyed a few peas and radishes from our box. Fresh peas right off of the vine are the best. It wasn't a lot ( I am most excited for the zucchinis and basil) but it was still exciting.
It just feels like summer when we are growing our own food, and I really wanted the kids to get excited about the idea of growing and eating our own food. I wanted that connection made for them.
xox

this is a pallet that says, rethink your use of garbage 

Father's Day 2014

If I were to make a list of all the ways that Winslow is an amazing father, that list could go on and on and on. I'd fill this page with endless notes, memories, and stories. And still, I wouldn't be able to sum up, just how amazing and just how much he means to us. Just how wonderful he truly is.
Words fall short when I try to explain the kind of father that Winslow is. What he does on a daily basis for his family, his steadfast love for us, the energy and work he puts out, never with a complaint.
Whether working hard at his job, or working hard at making something with his hands, whether playing with Noah and Katia or teaching them something new... I know that we are so very blessed to call this man Daddy.
Happy Father's Day to our amazing Dada. We love you so much.
xox

... lately

I have so much to catch up on in this little space. Time continues to fly by and I put my blogging on hold so that I can enjoy it all.

The real truth behind why I don't always blog so frequently is actually because of pictures. Yes, my pictures are holding me back.

I've become lazy about uploading and then formatting my pictures to put on the blog and somewhere, a long time I ago, I decided that every blog post that I do should include pictures. I'm not so sure if that really matters to me anymore. I do love pictures, but I am also perfectly happy to read blogs that don't always include pictures... anyways, maybe more posts and less pictures? I'm still figuring it out. Moving on....

Life has been moving along at warp speed. We are already into week 2 of summer vacation, our last day of school as Tues June 3rd! The last few days of school were spent having a community wide end of year BBQ and a day at the local lake, which included hotdogs on the fire, marshmallows, fishing and kite flying. It was a lovely way to wrap up the school year.

Also, our community swimming pool opened up the same week. And while I may not love the idea of a public chlorinated pool, I have to say, we are very lucky to have access to this pool here in our tiny isolated community. Without the pool, we would have a very bored group of kids, with no where to go and get out their energy. We truly are very fortunate to have our pool and are thankful for the lifeguard who has come up for the summer. She will be offering all of the children free swimming lessons, which we plan on doing.

As we kick start our summer, we are making a few plans for some travel, some camping, and trying to come up with ideas for things that we can do here at home. I've gone ahead and have set up a few sensory tables outside. We have a water table and a cloud dough table. I like having a few fun things all ready to go for the kids, for when they start to get a little bored. I have also challenged Noah and Katia to read 100 books this summer (which actually means we read 100 books together). I made a fun chart and we add stickers every time we read a book. Once the chart is full, I have promised them that we will go see a movie at the theater in town.

And also, in more exciting and important news, we added a little addition to our family this past week. His name is Ryder and we are very much enjoying having him here.

Ryder was found on Friday June 6th, at the community garden. He had followed a man who was coming to our community BBQ. Ryder went around to everyone, being very sweet and gentle. Everyone began to talk. Who does he belong to? Do you think he has a home?

We asked the man who Ryder had followed, and he didn't really know who the dog belonged to. He mentioned someone, and with that we decided we'd go talk to them to see if they wanted him.

Some people may think this story sounds strange, but unless you've been in a "community", you might not get it. Without judgement, I will try to explain.

Many dogs (not all) in communities are treated much differently than what the average dog owner might expect is okay. Many dogs live "pack style" and wander around looking for food and shelter. Sometimes these dogs have owners, but still live outside and fend for themselves. It can often be hard to tell is a dog has an owner, or if it is just sorta "taken care of" by many.

We talked to the people who we thought owned Ryder, but they didn't seem to be sure if they recognized him. We put the word out that we had him, and if anyone was looking for him, to come and get him. No one did. And we were perfectly happy with that.

Ryder is a sweet boy, who we think might be part Husky and maybe some German Shepherd. He is small still, we think 6 months maybe, but has a calm and obedient disposition. I wanted to be his "master" but I think he has taken a shining to Winslow. When Winslow leaves for work, Ryder cries and wails. It's actually very sweet.

 We have talked for a long time about adding a dog to our family. I think adding a pet to a family is a very serious decision to make and must be made in the best interest of everyone. As most people know, dogs require a lot of time and energy. And to have a well behaved dog, you need to provide them with exercise and consistent training. If Ryder had come any earlier into our lives, I don't think I would've agreed to take him on. But at this point, Katia and Noah are getting to be older and more self sufficient ... and to be honest with you, Ryder so far has been an amazing dog, so I am happy to say that this is just a great fit for us.

And I shall leave it at that for now.

like family to us

photo credit: Photography by Laura Wheeler

I have so much to share about what we've been up to, our day to day lives, and ideas that I have floating through my head...

but today, today is about remembering and respecting our three RCMP fallen members. 

I'm not quite sure if people who aren't in constant contact with law enforcers can understand why this tragedy has hit us so deeply. While my family does not know any of the families who have lost their loved ones personally, we still feel this loss so very much, as we are connected as a larger family. 

For us, especially since moving to the North, our RCMP friends have become family to us. So far from home and family, it has often been our RCMP family that has been there with us to celebrate holidays such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter. Our children's birthdays have been shared with them, the birth of our daughter too. When we were new to the North, we were instantly welcomed into the circle, and we too have made sure to welcome newcomers when they come. The RCMP is like a family to us, and just like family, there can be differences and disagreements.... but at the end of the day we are family. 

There have been nights in my life as an RCMP spouse, where I couldn't sleep. Rocked to the core when I heard about the death of a member, I remember staying on the phone hours with another spouse, crying and talking about our deepest fears. 

There have been mornings (after a night shift), when Winslow hasn't come home yet. Too many times infact. I expected him home by 7am, and it would be 10 or 11am and I still hadn't heard from him. I try to go on about our normal routine. Make the coffee, make the kids breakfast, but all I can do is keep looking at the kitchen clock. Finally, I hear the sweet sounds of his feet clumping up the front steps and the door opens. In walks my exhausted husband, after a 14 or 15 hrs over night shift. He has been out in the cold all night, been helping others or dealing with difficult situations, while we slept away at home. I can't even imagine it.  My heart can rest again and we go back to our normal day. 

The crisp sound of velcro being ripped apart. If you are a spouse to a law enforcer, you know that means that they are home safely after another shift. Taking off their uniform, and the bullet proof vest they wear under their shirt. It is a familiar and comforting sound. 

The time Sarah and I drove up to Mayo Yukon together to be there for our friend Allison, exactly one year after her dear Michael had drowned while on duty in the Stewart River. 

All of these experiences are ingrained in me, and are a part of how we live as a police family. When we heard the news that three RCMP members had been killed in a horrific act, aimed directly at police, I think it is safe to say that most spouses for a split second, went to that place in their hearts. That place where we know that it could have been or could be our partners.  We hurt, real deep hurt for those families, because we are them and they are us. 

Today as we watched the regiment funeral from our force house here in our little isolated post, we sighed, wept and showed our respect to our fellow RCMP family members. We will remember the sacrifice and job that these men did. We will never forget them, or the families that they leave behind. 

RIP Cst.Ross, Cst. Larche and Cst. Gevaudan

For a beautiful recap of the funeral, and the vulnerability of the RCMP at this time, this is a good video to watch. 

waaaaaay back when :) July 2007 at Winslow's graduation dinner in Regina. Man he's a hottie in that red serge. 

two roads project

Sarah (left): 
There aren't a lot of places in my house where I can find quiet. With four little girls with a lot to say (and shriek), not five minutes go by without relentless calls for, "Mama! Mommy! Mom!" But when a warm rain came down this week, and the girls wanted to puddle jump, I found some quiet. Under my um-ber-ella, ella, ella. Just for a few minutes, when the rain poured down hard and fast, all I could hear was the staccato rhythm of raindrops. The girls swished back and forth in the puddles with their knee-high rubber boots, getting gleefully soaked to the bone. I inhaled deep that great rainy smell, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Johanna (right): Like a sanctuary, our community  greenhouse offers us all a peaceful place to grow and tend to our gardens. 
I like to go in there, after supper, all on my own. I take the time to weed, water and reflect on how well my plants are doing. It is a moment of my day where there is no noise, there are no distractions. It's a place and a time where I can let me my wander, let myself become quiet and slow down. And the more I think about the day to day stresses, the busyness that goes on in the world, the more I am thankful for this quiet little refuge. 

*I also want to note today that as wives to Mounties ourselves, Johanna and I are deeply saddened and grieve the loss of three Mounties in Moncton this week. We really are a very tight-knit community, and these types of situations hit us hard. We stand as one. This week, three RCMP families did not get to greet their police officers coming home a the end of a shift, and that is our collective worst nightmare. 

For a glimpse into what it's like, please read, "What We Saw."

The well-known poem by Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken ends, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

Two women, who became friends via the magic of the Internet, were both living life on roads less traveled by. Circumstance had them both live in Whitehorse for a short time, where they became best friends. Life's map has them currently in differing geographic locations, but their connection and camaraderie continue as they continue on paths of motherhood, friendship, creativity and discovery. The Two Roads Project is our effort to reconnect with each other and our inner artists on a weekly basis, each Friday. (Or thereabouts. We don't always know which day of the week it is).

Sarah writes here.   

remembering Sana'a

Sana’a Michael Christensen-Blondin

January 28, 2012 to May 17, 2014

It is with profound and aching sadness that we announce that our precious Sana’a Michael Christensen-Blondin died in his father’s arms at 2pm on Saturday, May 17th, 2014. With this, a bright and beautiful light in our community was senselessly extinguished. 

Sana’a came into this world strong and with purpose on a cold winter night on January 28, 2012 and remained surrounded by love every single moment of his life. Our beautiful son, brother, nephew, cousin, grandchild, and great-grandchild filled our lives with so many tender hugs, soft kisses, quiet cuddles, and so, so much laughter and fun. His huge smile has been permanently etched onto our hearts, and onto the hearts of so many people across Yellowknife and the world.

Sana’a spent his life running, jumping, playing, laughing, shouting, leaping, dancing, cuddling, kissing, and sleeping every night of his life nestled in between his mum, dad and sister, Adze'. Sana’a was a busy boy, and desperate to grow up so that he could take gymnastics and swimming lessons with his sister Adze’, run as fast as his cousin Nahze’, learn to skate and play hockey with his Grandpa and Uncle Michael, and teach his little cousin Samuel how to be a big boy. He was well on his way to reaching all of these goals: he had just started potty training, his words were developing a mile a minute, and he was just starting to transition into size 3 clothes.

Our boy loved being outside. He loved driving his trucks through the dirt, setting up his plastic dinosaurs in the trees, helping his Daddy in the yard, and going out on the water in the family boat. He loved books, and often visited his Nana for quiet moments, just the two of them, sitting with his favourite books about cars and trucks, dinosaurs and animals. At nighttime, snuggled in between his mum and sister, they would read even more books together.

Sana’a also loved to go for drives in Daddy’s truck out to construction sites where he watched the big machines from his car seat, throwing himself around his Mum's legs or teasing her when she wanted to take a video of him saying a new word, taking naps in his parents’ arms with his warm cheek pressed up to theirs, playing pretend with his sister Adze’, who was also his best friend, and falling asleep at night with his hands in hers, eating caribou, bannock and any kind of fresh berry, making precious memories with his oldest sisters, Naoka and Sade', waiting for his cousin Nahze’ to come over to play at the end of his school day, showering his little cousin Samuel’s face with kisses, spending time with all of his loving grandparents and aunts and uncles, dressing up in costumes (from princess dresses and princess shoes, to dragons and tigers and superheroes—he had the most vibrant imagination), running around outside in the muddy yard in only a diaper and rubber boots, patting his big dog, Jake, and so, so, so much more.

Sana’a lives on in the wind and the trees, the birds in the sky, the sunrise, and the sunset, for which he was named. Most of all, he lives on in our hearts, especially those of his mother and father, Jocelyn and Grant, his sisters Adze’, Sade’ and Naoka, his grandparents Jill, Vern and Ayrma, Bes’ha and George, his great Nana, Eleanor, his “TT” Julia and Uncle Corey, Auntie Amanda and Uncle Michael, Auntie Karen and Uncle Dave, Auntie Dawn and Uncle Justus, Auntie Cailan, Uncle Craig and Uncle Arran, his cousins Samuel, Nahze’, and Kiyedinaci, his dayhome friends, with whom he spent so many hours playing, and many, many extended family members and friends from across the North, Canada and the world. 

hold your children tightly

It's been quite a while since I have popped in to say hello.
Two weeks ago, we received the devastating news that my cousin's sweet little boy Sana'a was killed in a horrible accident.
As soon as we heard the news, we made plans for me to go to Yellowknife and be with my family. It was a scary thing to do, but I needed to be there, and I am so glad I went.
The following is something I wrote, just as I was on my way to Yellowknife....it's taken time for me to sit down and write about how I am feeling.
One thing that I am having troubles with is the idea of carrying on.
While the world carries on (and so do I), my cousin cannot. I am given the chance to carry on in life with my two beautiful babies, and she is not. I feel deeply aware that things like Facebook posts or blog posts, could come across as insensitive or hurtful. Just something I am thinking about.

Here we go with my post....

I made the long trek in, by myself to Whitehorse last week. It was a drive that I was scared to do. 

I was scared to leave my babies, for the very first time. And even more scared to embark on the trip to Yellowknife, to help support my cousin and family, as they go through the most unimaginable tragedy. I felt all kinds of guilt and worry, as I left my children, to go and attend the celebration of life for another little soul.
Tears poured down my face as I drove away. My son looked out the window, wailing and pressing his hands up against the window. I had never left him before in his 4 years of life, except just once, for one night.
As I made my way down that first bumpy stretch of the highway, I wept and wept.
It was a culmination of everything that has happened in the last few weeks, and a chance for me to just let go and not have any other pressures or responsibilities to attend to.
No one to take care of, no one to cook for or chase after. Just a chunk of time, where my feelings and thoughts were at the forefront. It was hard, but a therapeutic drive.
On down the highway I went. The long 5 hours drive gave me time to think, absorb, reflect and cry. With nothing but the mountains and wildlife to look at, my feelings were at the forefront of my attention.
There are no answers or any explanation of why this has happened. We have lost a beautiful little soul who is so deeply missed and loved. The pain will never go away for my cousin and her family. A piece of them will forever be missing and yearned for. It is beyond comprehension.
As I made my way to Yellowknife, the words that my cousin gave in her interview, repeated themselves in my head. Hold your children tightly.
In fact, I would go on to say, hold everyone you love tightly. Be thankful for the time that you have, right now. Right this very moment. Look at people you know, and who you don’t know, with love. Be kind to others and be kind to yourself. Allow yourself to be human, allow mistakes and forgive others of their mistakes. Don’t hold grudges. Life is too short. Soak in the sun. Admire nature. Pray for your loved ones, that they might have peace, strength and comfort.
xox