Past Perfect

I consider myself very lucky to have grown up just outside of Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. With miles and miles of woods around us and a back garden almost as big as my London block, there was plenty of space to run, build forts and divert streams (endless house of entertainment!). While it got just a wee bit boring as a teen, I couldn't think of a better place to spend my childhood.

It's easy to put the blinkers on when you look back, but as I browsed through the photos my Mum brought over before my wedding a few months ago, one thing jumped out at me: the dodgy seventies fashion!


Climbing a tree? Get those polyester pants on!
My brother and I hang out in the branches at our grandmother's house on Prince Edward Island.



Hanging out on harbour.
My brother sports a lovely plaid coat while Mum is the height of fashion with a Mary Quant hairct and jaunty scarf.



Ah yes, what a cool family.
This photo makes me laugh every time. Sadly my Dad's head is cut off but I do love his collar! I have bad memories of my bike, since it was taken away from me for a month when I was 5 after my brother and I drove through tar as the road was being paved. I'm sticking to my story: I was only following my brother!



Get me out of this!
I can't escape the plaid, either.



Yum... cake.
Wearing a poodle sweater knitted for me by my grandmother. This was taken at the church picnic; I'd baked some cupcakes for the competition but dropped them in the gravel before entering them. Nevertheless, Mum and I picked the gravelly bits off and no-one was any wiser!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Yes, I know it's not November yet and I'm fully aware I'm living in England, but today is Thanksgiving for my friends and family back home in Canada. And I am very ashamed to admit that when The Man asked me why Canadians have a different date than Americans the occasion, I had no recollection of why that might be.

Now that I've refreshed my primary school history lessons, I am proud to say that the tradition started in my home province of Nova Scotia. The French settlers, led by Samuel de Champlain, celebrated surviving the ocean crossing. They held a feast to mark the occasion, which they shared with the Natives. So all in all, a similar story to the American one with a slight Canadian twist.

The holiday comes just as the leaves are turning their amazing colours of flaming red and orange, unlike in England where they turn brown and fall off in disgrace. And the weather usually cooperates, with the perfect combination of warm sun and crisp air. As much as I love London, nothing can compete with Fall in Nova Scotia.

I (Won't) Be Home for Christmas

(OK, I know the title is a bit wonky...)

As much as I love London, I have to admit to getting a wee bit homesick around this time of year. I HATE snow, ice, cold etc etc (except when skiing or snowboarding), but it does lend a certain air to the Christmas festivities. In London, with the grass still green and the temperature on the positive side of the Celsius scale, one could almost imagine it's spring. Well, a Canadian spring, anyway.


Halifax, the capital, in yet another snowstorm. Actually, looking at this, I don't miss snow that much after all.

So to amuse myself and perhaps assuage my yearning for home, I decided to post these pictures of my homeland, Nova Scotia. In Canada. East of Toronto. The first thing you hit when you head across the Atlantic. No, not New York, or Boston....


An ice storm mid-winter.


Lighthouse at Peggy's Cove.




House in Sydney decked out for Christmas.