Author name: Katie

Cure is a funny word. Some people think of the ’80s English rock band, others think of miracles, but me, I think of broken promises. I’ve been pretty cynical for quite sometime when people start spewing sentences that combine the words cure and diabetes. When I was nine years old and first diagnosed I was told there’d be a cure by the time I was 15, then 20, then 25. I’m now almost 32. But my dear, dear husband, he’s not quite so cynical (at least not in this aspect) and to hear him talk of me one day being free of finger pricks, and insulin attachments, and blood sugar dramas is enough to put a warm fuzzy feeling right into my cycnical heart – and a glimmer of hope too! So the other day, when Mario told me that he had signed up for the Whistler Gran Fondo, a […]

As much as I love the city, I LOVE THE COUNTRY! For four years, I lived on a farm, which consisted of five acres of sky-high trees, soothing ravines, yummy blackberries, nasty stinging nettles, and the best hide-and-seek games ever to be had. Some of my most formative years were spent on that farm (we only had rabbit ears and maybe two channels, so finding our own fun was a must). I remember climbing the willow trees, and taking the My Little Ponies for a swim in the murky pond, and testing the neighbour’s electric fence to see if it actually did work (it did!), and sinking in the “quicksand” by the ravine, and bottle-feeding our cows – Big Mac, Quarter Pounder, Sirloin, T-Bone and Porter House … Hey! The brothers named them not me 😉 About five years ago, my parents moved back to the farmhouse , and it’s

Have you ever gotten lost in a box full of old photos and cards and notes and before you know it an hour or two has past? That’s exactly what happened to me last night. I went up to the storage closet in search of a specific photo, which I found right away, but it was in a box that had tons of other photos, as well as letters from when I worked at a summer camp, and stacks of notes and cards from Mario that extend back to even before the beginning of our relationship – and it gave me the warmest, fuzziest feeling, like you know the warmth of when the first sip of red wine hits your belly, it was like that but 500 times more intense! For me, that box, and the several others that I have stored away, are like treasure boxes full of gold;

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIOiwg2iHio&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1] As Kermit The Frog has painstakingly brooded over the years, it’s not that easy being green – despite all the earth-friendly initiatives flying my way on Earth Day yesterday. I gotta say, as much as I love the colour green, and as much as I love the idea of being green, I am so NOT the greenest girl around. I commute to work, driving approximately 172 km a day, 860 km a week, I do not carpool (blame the job, not the girl), I travel by plane up to twice a year, and when they took my trash bin away at work, and replaced it with a blue box, I put up the biggest fight in the world … what can I say, I liked the convenience. At home, I try to recycle (I do) and I try not to aimlessly run the water, and I try not to

The things girls will do for a good deal on great shoes. Leaving for work this morning, at around 7:15, I drove past the old Army and Navy shop on Columbia street. It was another 45 minutes before the shop opened, but there were already 100 women, at least, standing in the pouring rain, peering through the store’s windows. I shook my head and smiled. I understood. We’re girls – we do crazy things for shoes. And today was the first day of the Army and Navy’s annual “legendary” shoe sale. This sale is not your ordinary shoe sale, oh no, it’s chock-a-block full of shoes; one whole floor dedicated to women’s shoes alone. Heels, flats, sneakers, sandals, gladiators, open-toed, closed toed, printed, canvas, leather, classic, runway … oh man, it’s enough to make a girl’s eyes pop! But I didn’t stop. Nope. I had to get to work. I had