we can make our own honey

on our second date, tyler had it in his mind that we would leisurely bike up to the ice caves, have a romantic quiche and sparkling apple juice picnic, and climb into the caves and discover natural ice sculptures together.

although most of his plans turned out exactly as he had planned, the whole leisurely biking through the mountains part ended up being a laboriously breathing, excessively sweating, going slightly dizzy ordeal for me. i didn't know i was so out of shape. and neither did ty...

and yet, he still fell in love with me, and i eventually forgave him for my embarrassment and fell for him, too.

so, four years later, on our second anniversary, we made more quiche, found our favourite cranberry apple sparkling apple juice, the sweetest strawberries and digestives, packed all our camera gear and a coleman lamp, and hiked to the caves as training for the west coast trail. even though there was still some sweating and hard breathing, it was fabulous. and i am happy to report that i hiked faster than a cute hello kitty backpack, flip flop, and pompom pigtails couple along the trail.

another happy happy anniversary. how will we outdo ourselves next year...



wear sunscreen

seventy-five kilometres. thirty-five to fifty-five pound back packs. seven days. a moulting elephant seal. whales playing in the sea weed. secret caves. a glorious burger. a mango. and one film camera.

when we were getting ready/training/stressing about the west coast trail, i was pretty sure we were going to come out of it bruised, battered, and more than slightly damp.

especially when the couple we went with didn't even pack a rain coat.

i'm not kidding.

i also thought we'd come out with at least one terrifying story of someone hanging off a two kilometre long ladder by a hiking pole and said person was saved only by a gust of wind, a two inch square of duct tape, and a conveniently placed bramble.

or something like that.

instead, we came out of it relatively whole (most of the "bruises" washed away in the shower...), a few looney-sized blisters, a fear of heights slightly less than before, and practically bone dry. it was a west coast trail miracle. absolutely no rain.

and here are our pictures. you can see more here. there are a lot. but i carried that camera seventy-five kilometres. so what.


ps. because of the epicness of our trip, we listened to this song, and this song before heading out. so deep. so epic.


roll over, roll over

boys will be boys.

and little sisters waiting for their turn.

i woke up this morning and could see my breath on the air. the sun is beginning to sleep in longer than me. and the list of all the grown up things i keep putting off is getting a bit overwhelming...

but summer's not allowed to be over yet.

let's just keep it going.



the italian mafia

today marks the day where i am officially a real live registered dental hygienist. now i must grow up and get a real job.

i officially take teeth seriously. like this.

ok ok. this is what i miss almost daily about toronto. i want to set up a cafeteria date with these girls to meet with yam pizza and rapini pasta to talk about, well, anything, really.

when i first met them, i promise i thought they were the daughters of the italian mafia.

i thought i better make friends with them if i was going to survive dental hygiene school...

it worked.
i miss you and and love you more.


ps. thanks ty for taking these for us. i love them.


do you have a dollar?

my mom wanted one last photo shoot with her young women. and i can't believe my baby sister is graduated and leaving for university.

our family has only one rule if you leave the country for school: don't marry an american.

(hey now. we love our neighbours to the south. it is only because we cannot stand the idea of living too far apart from one another for too long...) 

and don't you forget it, phoebe.