IMG_6651, originally uploaded by mintyfresh.

In the early 2000s, when I worked in technology and stock options were still worth actual money, *many* of my colleagues (those with the stock options) invested in things like cottages, or more appealing to me, sailboats. Growing up in Halifax, sailing had a place in my life, but it was, for the most part, an “I don’t really sail” place, rather than holding a spot of fondness. But the water, well, being on the water just felt like being home.

It continued to be that way even when we moved inland, away from the maritimes to a more land and lake-locked Ontario. There are rivers, sure, but nothing quite like the crashing of the waves against the rocky coast.

Fast forward to a few years ago. Quite by accident I stumbled across this Ottawa-based school and fell in love with their British Virgin Island vacations. Who can say no to a tropical holiday that is both holiday AND sailing school? Not I.

Not long before our trip was scheduled to depart, I heard about a couple I used to know in my tech-life, Geoff and Ruth. They had given up everything for a boat & a dream, and left Ottawa bound for a two year tropical sailing adventure. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what it would take to embark on that sort of adventure – I didn’t yet know how to tie a reef knot! But they did. And they blogged about it, posted photos, plotted a course. It sounded incredible.

Cue our sailing holiday. Day 1 aboard the boat: amazing! Beautiful! I love sailing! Day 2: I’m sailing, whee! Day 3: OMG Please make the seasick stop. Day 4: FIND ME SOME LAND. My early dreams of Geoff and Ruth’s adventure died on the floor of the sailboat I couldn’t look at for all the nausea.

But then something funny happened. While sitting at the bar at the Virgin Gorda Yacht Club (you can see me feeling mildly land-sick here – no one tells you that getting off the boat can be as bad as being on it, right? Right.), I watched a couple cruising into the yacht harbour in their dinghy and dry-gear. Oddly, despite being thousands of miles away from home, they looked familiar. And they were. Here, all these miles from home, were Geoff and Ruth – the same two that had inspired me to even think about tackling this holiday in the first place. While the conversation that followed did not inspire me to get back on the boat that very same day, it did get me back on a boat in the months that followed. At home, in Canada, where I loved being on the water once again (without feeling green). And now, just a year later, I can’t get enough. I’m reading books about sailing adventures, following blogs about teenagers sailing around the world. By themselves. And plotting a way to get back to the Virgin Gorda Yacht Club with a boat of my own (and maybe a dose or twenty of gravol, just in case).

And you can do it too. I first noticed the Geoff and Ruth were home when their boat, the SV GeRu was parked outside (of all places) my office at the NAC. It sat there for weeks, taunting me. Sail, it said, sail! And now they are sharing their story, their lessons learned, and what I can only imagine are truly fantastic, the memories of two years spent at sea, on islands, and occasionally running into Canadians you actually know. If you want to be inspired by their adventure, you can find them for the next two weeks talking about every moment of it at the Brittania Yacht Club. It will be worth it, I promise.

little., originally uploaded by mintyfresh.

Just over a year ago, I returned from a tropical holiday (my first ever!), sad to be parted from the Mad Dog’s frozen drinks and unable to do anything but daydream about The Baths. Painkillers (the drinking kind, not the I’m-in-pain kind), days full of reading novels on the beach and waking up to a perfect view of the atlantic made getting through the dregs of February a breeze.

This year I have no such holiday, though we were tempted! Instead, an early bout of spring weather and a few weeks of downtime are making the last days of winter feel not quite as stifling as usual.

Centretown is alive again – the neighbourhood is full of bicycles, and we’re all digging through our closets to unearth spring shoes, jackets and rain boots (those puddles of snow are unforgiving). While we are all holding our breath and waiting for the sure-to-come remaining few feet of snow, this early taste of spring has left most of us with a little extra bounce in our step, and a few more pieces of tropical fruit in our grocery carts (like this lovely baby pineapple that found it’s way to mine).

Wilco., originally uploaded by mintyfresh.

One week post-NAC and I am finally returning to regular life.

It’s been hard to explain to people who have never worked in the performing arts what the NAC is like – it’s like no job I ever had before it, and probably like no job I will ever do again now that it’s over. It is a special, magical place that if you let it, will consume EVERY. WAKING. MOMENT. of your life.

Which I let it do, a little bit. And it was great and fantastic and I don’t regret it for a second. But now that it’s over….well….let’s just say that I haven’t quite figured out what to do with my newfound free time, but I’ve managed to read a book, or ten (actually seven, if we’re counting. One a day!), finish half of a quilt, spring clean about a year’s worth of the accumulated “I don’t know what to do with this thing” pile that’s been hiding in my studio closet, go to three concerts, a handful of networking events, and catch up on my embarrassingly full RSS reader (yes….google reader *will* tell you that you have 11,000+ unread posts).

And don’t even get me started on how much of the Olympics I watched. Of course, there’s working, too, but I feel as if on top of working on some new and fun projects, that I have gotten back to the life portion of the work-life balance being more weighted in my favour. Hooray!