Of Inuit and Epidurals

“I’m thinking buttercups, I’m thinking butterscotch, I’m thinking butternut pumpkin.”

Or so I imagine the stream of consciousness of the interior decorator. Sitting here in my new house (yes third in five months, a record even for me!), I am surrounded by yellow. The furniture is pine, there is yellow paint on the walls, the towels in the bathroom are yellow. The paintings on the wall seem to have been chosen, not for artistic merit but for their tonal palette of, you guessed it, orange and yellow. But beneath the yellow scatter cushions is a sofa bed, perfect for overseas guests, and outside lies a view that is quintessential Vancouver.
By day I look out over English Bay and the North Shore mountains. By night, street lights guide my eyes across the Lion’s Gate bridge to the lit-up ski runs on Cypress. And on mornings like this, when rain-heavy clouds hang low on the mountains, well at least I’ve got sunshine inside!

[read on]

"Tom. Move!" I think this is excellent communication and right out of my crisis management training. I've used his name, I've only given him one task and I haven't overwhelmed him with extraneous information. So why ... [Continue reading this entry]

The clock on my computer reads five am.  It’s Australian time, but it doesn’t much matter.  I did night shift last night.  I’ve been awake for nearly thirty hours.  The witching hour of five am seems more fitting than midday. I ... [Continue reading this entry]