Wobbly rocks beneath my feet are the first thing I feel when I think about the seashore across the road from my grandmother’s house in Goldwater, near Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. When my family visits my grandma’s, we always take a walk down to the seashore at least once a day. I remember running as fast as I could to the seashore, excited to chase the waves and smell the salty air. The sound of my grandmother’s voice calling out behind me, “Look both ways before crossing the street and BE CAREFULL!” will forever ring in my ears when I visit the seashore, even after she’s gone.

A busy highway separates the seashore from my grandmother’s house and cars are constantly buzzing by from dawn to dusk. Despite the thick smell of car exhaust pipes, and run down rubber tire tracks on the pavement, crossing the highway leads to a wall of roses. The roses hedges always emit a lovely aroma, of what roses should smell like and the irritating sound of insects swarming the hedges.

Then there are those wobbly rocks again. This is no sandy shoreline, so walking becomes difficult when I step on to the rocky floor, often on the verge of tripping or loosing balance. The shore is outlined with massive you could practically sun bathe on— and littered with mosaics of smaller, flatter misshapen rocks. These rocks are perfect for skipping in the way my father taught me. We would throw the rocks almost like a Frisbee, watching them skim and jump the surface of the water leaving rings of ripples behind them.

Looking out onto the sea there are groups of islands that look like lily pads floating on a massive, wavy pond. These islands are various sizes, and have always been to me like faraway lands with hidden treasures. My mom told me that she had once tried to swim out to what is called “big island”, until she was pulled back in to shore like a fish on a fishing line of my grandmother’s becks and calls.

The air is unruly at times on the water, sweeping up the scents of sea weed and the overpowering tang of salt water. The sticky and coarse texture of my hair after spending time on the shore, traps and leaks these scents long after I have again crossed the highway. Walking on the dried up seaweed makes a crunchy sound under my feet and fills the air with its distinctive perfume. Despite the smells of the sea, it’s hard to resist the smell of fish and chips filling the air around the Shoreline Canteen.

Seagulls constantly harass the people at the Canteen, begging for scraps of fries or pieces of bread. Their inarticulate and awkward calls are almost like pubertal choir boys being conducted by the crashing waves – a sound that’s much more eloquent. The waves at the seashore are never overwhelming, but are just loud enough to drown out the sounds of the busy highway. Their rhythm has always been calming and organic, no matter what is going on around me. Sometimes the natural rhythm of the waves is interrupted by the sounds of sea-doos or fishing boats roaring by, speeding up the pace of the waves. On quiet days, you can hear the creaking of fishing boats at the wharf near by, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the waves.

As we grow up, it’s often easy to forget to take in the essence of the seashore. Yet every time I go there I feel at peace with life—just the way my grandma’s nurturing voice makes me feel. No matter how old I am, I always be sure to take a trip to the sea shore and walk on those wobbly rocks.

When asked to write about a family legend, I had to take a lot of time to figure out one to write. I then realized that there is one story, which in my mind stood out. Not because of its utter hilarity, but because it involves both my family and my friends. And when a story triggers a statement of “Remember that time Ashley puked in the car?”, every time this group gets together—it just needs to be told. Reader discretion is advised.

Living in the small town of Antigonish, Nova Scotia means having to find many creative ways to entertain yourself the best you can. When the creative juices are stagnant, nothing beats packing the car with friends and heading out for a 45 minute drive to New Glasgow. While New Glasgow and Antigonish are similar in that they are both relatively small towns, they differ in the sense that New Glasgow has much more to offer in the department of movie theatres and shopping outlets. So it is always a destination of choice based on its closeness, and the entertainment it provides.

It was early December, and the perfect day to head to New Glasgow for some shopping and a movie. At the time, I hadn’t gotten my driver’s license yet, so I did what every 17 year old would do in that situation: beg my mother to drive us. So I did, and it worked. My mom, my two friends Andrea and Ashley and I enjoyed a full day of shopping and a movie. Once we were done at the movie, we all realized we had a hardcore hankering for some Dairy Queen. We pulled up at the drive-through and ordered some delicious ice cream treats. Andrea, Ashley and I decided it was time to try the newest treat on the DQ menu— frozen hot chocolates. Sounds yummy, but you wait.

By this time, it was dark and it was time to head home. Anyone who has ever driven past New Glasgow towards Antigonish, you can’t miss the sight of a luxurious mansion about 10 minutes past the town. Since it was close to Christmas, we got excited to see this beautiful house all lit up. As usual, and since this was before the time of iPods, I had one of my signature mix CD’s blaring in the car. As the funky beats of Cornershop’s “Brimful of Asha” began to pump, we all were still sipping on your yummy frozen hot chocolates while enjoying the quirkiness of this particular song. Until that lyric; the lyric that started it all. The lyric, that from now on when heard will only bring back this memory.

“Everyone needs a bosom for a pillow, everyone needs a bosom”
Yeah. I know. I guess you’d have to listen to the song to truly appreciate that line.

These lyrics did not make much sense to my mother, so she felt the need to state her confusion out loud.

“A BOSOM? FOR A PILLOW?” my mom practically yelled with a shrieking tone of confusion her voice.

It must have been how my mother said it that triggered a laughing fit amongst Andrea, Ashley and I. I’m talking full on, tummy aching laughter. Laughter that was so extreme that Ashley began to have a coughing fit over it. Well laughter led to coughs, and coughs led to something else.

Lets just say that the frozen hot chocolate didn’t stay with her too long, as she started to cough so hard that she actually started to throw up. Andrea and I were laughing so hard but it quickly changed to concern for Ashley. All this just so happen to have happened while passing the mansion that was lit up with Christmas lights. And in the midst of all the noise and chaos my mother—not fully aware of what commotion was happening in the back seat, managed to yell out “But look at the lights!”. My mother’s moment of comic relief only made us laugh even harder.

Soon enough we made our way to a close by gas station to clean up the mess. Thankfully enough Ashley was a great sport, and managed to laugh at herself afterward. Puking happens all the time, but it was the combination of everything that had caused it that will forever engrave it in our minds.

Ashley missed seeing the lights, but this story will go down in history as the best (or worst) trip home from New Glassgow. And let’s just say that Ashley is sure to not hear the end of this story, as it will surely be one of many told on her wedding day.

Labels: ashley, legend, new glassgow, vommit

During my third and final co-op work term as Event Coordinator at Pier 21, I had the exciting opportunity to plunge into the world of events. Weddings, conventions, dinners, meetings, press conferences – big, small, formal, informal. Each day brought forward a new client, a new opportunity and a new experience. I was very excited when asked to work a wedding ceremony, dinner and dance on a beautiful day in late September.

Working at the Pier in the early fall means dealing with the peak of the cruise ship season. While couples are aware that a cruise ship may interfere with the scenic view of the Halifax harbour and George’s Island, for the most part – cruise ships leave before, or right before, wedding ceremonies begin.

The day was busy from the moment I stepped through the front doors of historic Pier 21. The dinner setting was ready: décor, flowers, and the three tier wedding cake had arrived on time. Everything was planned from the moment the bride arrived until the moment the happy newlyweds would charge down the aisle to celebrate with friends and family. What we couldn’t plan for was the presence of a massive cruise ship plunked right in front of the guest’s view of the waterfront. Let’s face it, 2,000 passenger cruise ship sticks out like a sore thumb when coupled with an elegant traditional Hupa and a formal ceremony setting.

As the guests arrived, I began to glance down at my watch about every two minutes. I remember hoping that the cruise ship would eventually make its way out the mouth of the harbour in time for the ceremony scheduled to begin at 5:30pm. Eventually it was 5:25 and still the guests the only view the guests had was a white canvas with tiny windows looking into the cruise ship passengers' rooms. By 5:30 the bride had arrived and was safely hiding in the office boardroom. I knew we had to get some information about when the cruise ship would be departing. Phone calls to the Halifax Port Authority were made, and we eventually learned that the ship was waiting for a container ship to make its way through the harbour. Well, this was out of our control and if there is anything I have learned from dealing with issues out of my control – it is to step back and attempt to make the very best of every situation that comes your way.

The bride and bridesmaids were soon informed of the delay in the cruise ship departure, but the dream view was still a high priority for the bride to be, and the ladies were quite committed to waiting an extra five to ten minutes before walking down the aisle. My past experience with weddings has taught me that ceremonies rarely start on time, so I was happy to make sure the bridal party was comfortable with the decision to wait it out a bit longer. The ladies in the boardroom were content with some champagne and picture-taking, while the groom and groomsmen were holding down the fort at the ceremony site.

It was officially 5:45. Guests were starting to get antsy, and so was the bride. At this point in the game it was clear the cruise ship was not about to budge any time soon. It was clear by the anxious, half-panicked look on the bride's face that cruise ship or no cruise ship; it was time to get married.

At about 5:50pm the bride and the rest of the bridal party made their way to the back of the ceremony site. One of my main duties at this point was to cue the musicians to begin playing and switch songs when the bride was ready to walk, cue each bridesmaid/groomsman to begin walking, and to make sure that the bride’s set of grandparents made it down the aisle and to their seats. Surprisingly enough, considering that she didn’t have the view she wanted, the bride’s excited glow was the center of attention when she began walking down the aisle. Who needs a view now?

I stood ground at the back of the ceremony, and more or less took the time to enjoy the ceremony. It was calm, romantic and intimate until the air shook when the loudest, most obnoxious departure horn rang throughout the venue. Luckily, it was during an informal reading and not during the sacred exchanging of vows between the bride and groom. This moment could have been awkward or funny, but the ceremony continued without a hitch as the luxurious cruise ship began to slowly move away from the Pier and make its way out to the Atlantic ocean. The ceremony site lit up with sunlight that was originally blocked by the ship. The happy couple got their view after all.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. With the usual business of coordinating a wedding, I was run off my feet by the end of the night and my shift ended about an hour into the formal dinner. Despite a tardy cruise ship, and a thunderous fog horn, it was the couple, the story, and the atmosphere that made the wedding successful in the end.

In a job that is primarily behind the scenes and requiring as much physical energy as mental, it was what happened later that night that made me love – truly love – what my job at the Pier was all about.

Later that night, a friend and I were waiting at the local bus station for another friend to arrive when I saw a limo pull up to the adjacent hotel. I jumped up and looked closer, only to see that it was the bride and groom from the wedding at the Pier were getting out of the limo. With champagne in hand and were eagerly making their way to the hotel for their wedding night. It was unreal how happy they looked, so enthusiastic to begin their new life together. It was clear: this was the best day of their lives.

I just remember thinking to myself “I was a part of that.”, it was that moment, with that realization, that I truly fell in love with my future career. And like the Pier 21 newlyweds; I will plunge into the future with as much excitement as they had on their wedding day. Let’s just hope no cruise ships get in the way.

Labels: pier 21, wedding