I did it! I took the plunge and wrote up a Kickstarter campaign!
But I need help!
Please support if you can, and share as widely as possible! Thank you!!!
I did it! I took the plunge and wrote up a Kickstarter campaign!
But I need help!
Please support if you can, and share as widely as possible! Thank you!!!
As I dive into the job search in Regina again, I’d love it if you could keep your eyes open for people I could connect with and positions that might be a fit for me. Below is a bit about my background and what I’m looking for, and if anything related comes to you please keep me in mind!
What I’m Looking For
My Humble Request:
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and for keeping me on your radar!
It is December, and right up until last week, I was still cycling to the cafe. This is unheard of!
People are betting on the likelihood of a “brown” Christmas, which amuses me greatly since I remember how hard we used to wish each year for a white one in Darlington. The last no-snow Christnas that anyone in Regina can remember was 1998. So odds are we should be good…
The bunnies are all confused though. There are giant Jackrabbits (technically, hares, I think!) that live downtown, and a couple of them have taken up residence in the car park behind the cafe. We named them Wayne and Waynetta Wabbit and I even have a seasonal Christmas coffee on the menu called “confused jackrabbit” in their honour. They are confused because they have gone white already. Each year, they grow their winter coat, changing them from grubby grey-brown bunnies that match the general downtown concrete, into pristine white bunnies camouflaged against the snow. Except this year, they are white already but there is no snow hide in, and they look very, very out of place.
I want to stick out like a snow bunny.
I mentioned I am still cycling: Theia can now sit up well enough that she can ride in the forward-facing kid seat on the front of the Taga bike, so after another conversion effort (20 seconds to convert it? My arse! More like 20 minutes. With swearing.) – we are happily pedalling about on what has to be one of the most eyecatching vehicles in Regina, avoiding the seasonal idiots who have forgotten how to drive in ice. The advantage of the Taga bike is that I can pretend it’s Mainly Stroller and ride on the sidewalks with it and thus not risk Death by Idiot-in-SUV quite so frequently. Unfortunately in Regina most sidewalks are in worse condition than the roads, and having 3 wheels means hitting every slope, hole, chip of broken glass, lump or inexplicably unpaved patch City Hall wish to challenge me with. So, sometimes the road is a better option, but there, I am small, and low and slow and vulnerable, and because I lack a petrol engine, I mysteriously become invisible. This is a car-obsessed land, and unless you have one, you are a nobody, despite freakish hybrid kid-transportation devices.
I am having similar issues with the cafe. Not that people are running us over, but just that we seem to be equally invisible because no one gets out of their cars. We thought our spot on 11th would be pretty good because there is a lot of passing traffic headed downtown. We have a bright purple 26ft sign over the equally massive window, chalkboard outside and over the summer, even a little patio table out the front. Yet people drive straight past; I’d like to say they are concentrating on the road but often or not, it’s their phones… And then, 8 months after opening, we get the surprised, “oh, are you new?” questions along with “I didn’t know you were here!”. Yes, this is partially our lack of marketing budget, but also because so few traverse downtown on foot or by bike. Peoples! This winter is incredibly mild! Get out of your cars and take advantage of it!
Three years in Regina, and I still, defiantly, don’t have a driving license. I’ve survived quite happily walking or cycling everywhere, and even managed to do epic shopping trips picking up supplies for the cafe without driving. However, a few weeks ago, my beloved two-wheeled bike, Yoshi (don’t judge, it was green and fast) was stolen from it’s spot chained up outside the cafe. Some little **** didn’t just pick it up, they actually cut through my lock, implying it was premeditated: someone had obviously clocked that I lock it up there every day and had deliberately turned up with bolt cutters or something. Grr! Even worse was how quickly it disappeared. About 40 minutes prior to discovering it had gone, I had been out to load it up with all the dirty rags from the cafe to wash at home. The thief carefully removed the milk-crate bike-basket I’d made and placed it tidily on our back step, (thus leaving me the dirty kitchen rags) and even put the neatly cut lock in the basket too. AAAARGH!!
But this is Canada! I hear you cry…Things like that don’t happen here! Whereas there is no comparison at all with the petty crime rate in Darlington, UK, there are still some arseholes in my little flatland utopia, it seems.
I reported it to the police, but they weren’t really optimistic. Next, I posted this all over the internet:
56 retweets on Twitter, and about 80 shares from the cafe’s facebook page. My online followers are wonderful!! I never got the bike back, but I’d like to think with enough people on the look out for it, the thief will have a hard time selling it on at least. Then I got a message from someone who I think I’ve only met in the flesh on one brief occasion – he’d set up a ‘Go Fund Me’ page to collect donations and buy me a new bike!!! So, so sweet of him, and that restored my faith in humanity a great deal. To be honest, it wasn’t the money that was the issue. Yoshi was cheap and second hand three years ago and worth virtually nothing anyway. It’s just the inconvenience since I don’t have any other option: my trike was in need of repairs (after doing some serious damage hitting potholes too hard) and walking any distance while this pregnant is increasingly agonising, especially when I had to carry milk deliveries to the cafe. I could have got myself another secondhand bike I suppose, but there didn’t seem much point since I can’t fit the newborn baby on it in a few weeks time.
Instead, Carl managed to bodge a repair job on the trike so I at least had those wheels back again for now. And then I thought, I could treat myself. I need a new stroller (Look! I said stroller not pushchair!! I’ve gone native!) but, I couldn’t get a normal, conventional one, could I? And I miss Yoshi and the trike’s back wheel configuration makes it difficult to attach any newborn baby seats to anyway…
Then, I found this!
It’s a e-guruma (or rather, “Taga” bike, as the original company appears to have been bought out!) and it cleverly converts from a backwards trike with two wheels at the front to a “normal” stroller. You pull the seat off and the back wheel flips up over the top and pokes out the front, so you end up with a three wheeled “jogging” stroller thing. The Parents even got me an adapter for it so we can clip in the baby’s car seat until it’s big enough to sit up in that seat by itself. (Yes, “it” – still not sure!)
Miranda can just about sit in that seat and absolutely LOVES it. But she is a colossal weight nowadays and it’s very, very hard work cycling her on it, because the wheels are so small! Steering is very odd, it feels like the love child of an exercise bike and a supermarket trolley, but even when faced with Regina potholes and terrible road surfaces (Rae St and 12th, I am looking at yooooou!) it is remarkably stable, and in comparison with the big trike, it feels far less scary when it tips, because you are only 6 inches off the ground. I feel like I can go much further with it than I could walking with a pushchair, so hopefully when Baby arrives I have plenty of freedom to get around – and I still don’t need a driving license. MWUHAHAHAHAHAAA!
Every single bit of me aches.
BUT THE COFFEE SHOP IS OPEN!!
We are back to 13s again. I left the Sensible Office Job on Friday 13th Feb, and today, 13th April, we opened the doors officially! So, I have only been working on this full time for two months. I’ve already blogged about the mysterious recurrence of thirteens in Canada – arriving during the year of our thirteenth anniversary, Miranda’s date of birth, and at the time, living on 13th Ave and working at 13th Ave coffee shop. Actually, if I remain pragmatic, none of that is anything other than coincidence or deliberate design; really I am trying to justify the significance of my 13 tattoo!!
Including tackling a few social media explosions and replying to the daily onslaught of emails in the evenings, I am putting in 13 hour days as well. This is to be expected, especially in early days, but I had forgotten how tiring being on your feet all day is, compared with that comfy office job where your arse eventually ends up the same shape and size as your swivel chair. Or maybe I’m just older now. I have three wonderful part time staff at the moment, but I am still there myself all day, every day. Despite the exhaustion and achey feet, I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it too!
And people are so lovely. Whereas our first official day (and the three “dress rehearsal” days last week where we put the open sign up on the off-chance that people would actually notice) – were not amazingly busy, it was enough to feel successful. The supportive friends gradually gave way to interested Twitter followers, who in turn were joined by hopeful caffeine-hungry local office workers. Word is getting out! We’ve received so many positive comments and well wishes that I can’t help but feel crazy-confident about the whole endeavour. Our new neighbours even arrived with bunches of flowers for us! As with Wheelie Good Coffee, the response contrasts so sharply with my experiences in Darlington that I’m convinced I must be on the right track finally.
That goes for everything else recently as well. I have my cafe business again, my wonderful hubby and brilliant beastling daughter, there is another Timbit daughter booting from inside my belly, my fantastic friends are all rooting for me from both sides of the atlantic, the Parents have just booked another trip back here for the summer, the sun in shining and all is right with the world! And I am very, very lucky.
I am having to wear my new glasses to type this post. I am officially OLD.
This last week, we have had Hilary and D stay with us, coming from Edmonton and “on route” to Toronto for their beloved rollercoasters. They are both a year older than me, and both spent a lot of time squinting at their phone screens. D admitted he needs reading glasses, Hils isn’t sure… yet. We are ALL getting old. (apart from Carl, it seems, who actually IS old!)
Anyway, Hils and D are the first of our UK friends to make it over for a visit, (unsurprising, given the horrifically extortionate costs of the flights!) and I had a wonderful – if too bloody short – week of showing them my Regina. Ahem. It was also Thanksgiving, which to the British mind, is a festival of Over-Eating. This year, we got an 8kg turkey from the Farmers’ Market, and I spent 5 hours in the kitchen making stuffing for it, sweet potato soup and pumpkin pie. And then Turkey curry and then turkey pie and a multitude of turkey sandwiches. FOREVER. On top of that, I also introduced them to Poutine at the Mercury, explained why Perogies are now a Canadian thing, forced D to eat a maple-bacon doughnut, and took them to Timmies. All this was washed down with copious amounts of homebrew, and I duly gave Thanks to Hils for bringing me a bottle of pinotage wine from afar. Om nom.
When not eating, we did try and see the sights of Regina. We tried to walk off some of the turkey with a wander down to Wascana park to see the lake, but we had spent so long “digesting” – by which I mean lying on the couch groaning – that it was getting dark before we headed out, and by the time we got there, it was pitch black and we found the legislative building had been inexplicably covered in cardboard anyway. We did find quite a few houses nicely decorated for Halloween though.
Explaining a town to someone “from overseas” is quite difficult. Hils and D are not ones to appreciate architecture anyway but Regina is not an architecturally stunning city in the first place. They asked very similar questions to those we asked when we first arrived:
Why are there so many bungalows? (so much space – why build up when you can build out?)
Why is everything wonky? (Particularly true in Cathedral – old wooden houses that have warped and partially sunk in the Regina Gumbo. Ours is a shining example of The Wonkiness)
Why build wooden houses when there are tornadoes here and no native trees? (I don’t have an answer for that one!)
Why do pubs close on long weekends? (again – no clue!)
Why is it so quiet downtown? (See above)
How do you get to the airport if you don’t have a car? (they didn’t like my answer to that, which prompted the next question-)
What sort of city has no public transit to its own airport?!?! Answer: one that is addicted to driving.
I am not going to write another rant about the needlessly enormous cars here or my near-death experiences cycling in Regina, but – and this is for another blog post entirely- I have good reason to keep an eye on specific locations around Regina right now, particularly if they have adequate parking. If I build it, they will come (in their SUVs…) Let’s leave it, cryptically, at that for now. If you do spend all your time driving around town though, the chances are you will miss views like these. Autumn in Regina is simply gorgeous, and I think even Hils and D, Londoners as they are, could appreciate that:
Miranda came home the other day saying she wants to be a farmer when she grows up. Fair enough – we’re in the right place!
Saskatchewan is Canada’s bread basket apparently – a lot of agriculture happens here in the Big Flat Spaces between towns. Abundant grain elevators. Last year at the Mustard festival, we learned that Saskatchewan is the largest exporter of mustard seed in the world. And then of course, Regina has it’s own Farmers’ Market. ( awaits jokes along the lines of “how do I farm Reginas?” from Mr Chapman) It is awesome. It gets bigger every week. Something like 13,000 people visit it on a week day morning. It wins awards.
Not every market vendor is actually a farmer. I don’t think the bread guy grows his own wheat, and I don’t think the pastry people grind their own flour..and as for me, um… well anyway, everything is made locally at least. All the vegetable vendors grow their produce locally, and it is all the better for it. There’s even a cheese stall with my favourite goats cheese from their goat farm, and a man selling meat from his ranch, who originated from Cumbria, England. Although I am not a farmer, the market has welcomed my coffee business with open arms and empty travel mugs. It would be seriously difficult to cultivate and farm coffee in Saskatchewan anyway. But, I brew it here, straight in front of local Saskatchewinians, and more importantly, Bill roasts it here too. I feel like we fit in.
Lacking the appropriate >800m above sea level altitude, the climate that never drops below 18C and the required humidity means I can’t farm coffee here, but to my surprise, I have actually managed to grow vegetables here – and not just any vegetables, MUTANT MARROWS. Apparently courgettes and marrows are both called Zucchini in Canada, but I mean excessively large tubular green things anyway. One little project I’ve been working on when I’m not at beer club/poetry slams or either of my two jobs, is gardening. Marianne and I have been tending a small plot in the local community gardens (allotments, to UK folk), and under her tutelage, I’ve managed not to kill anything (an amazing achievement!). Our veg even survived numerous storms and the wettest summer anyone can remember. I have been eaten alive by mosquitoes down there, so I feel my blood sacrifices may have been beneficial to the mutant generation process.
Who would have thought this:
– could produce this?
I should point out, that is one Mega Marrow of Many. One was so large I couldn’t get it home on my bike. I’ve made zucchini pasta sauce, zucchini gratin, stuffed zucchini, deep fried zucchini, zucchini Thai green curry, zucchini stir fry and zucchini relish. Marianne made zucchini chocolate cake too, and I even gave away seven of the buggers to people at work. And both Marianne and I still have several of them in our freezers.
I NEVER WANT TO SEE A ZUCCHINI/MARROW/COURGETTE EVER AGAIN!!!!
My neighbouring stall on the market last week was Scandinavian Sweethearts, who make amazing pickles with homegrown veg. The Scandinavian sweetheart told me she had over 300lb of cucumbers this year. I can sympathise, but then, she is intentionally growing them in bulk. Ours were… not intentionally so oversized… Mind you, it seems to be a Saskatchewan trend this year. Market Manager Ada has been spotted modelling a huge cabbage on her head. Perhaps this is what happens to you if you spend too long in the company of Regina Farmers….?