A Moving Story

I know what you think. You saw the title of this post and thought this is a story that will move you to tears. But that isn't what the title means. While this post may bring you to tears - as it did to me - the story is actually about moving, the kind of moving that involves packing up your house - and your hopes, dreams, and life - and moving them into another house.

A few months ago my life took one of those radical turns life often takes. I won't go into the details, but what it meant was that my life would change forever. Suddenly I was going to be doing things like finding a job (which I did, and a damn good one at that), and buying my own house. This last bit was the hard part, because I have had dozens of jobs - but I have never owned a house by myself, been the only one with the name on the mortgage. The prospect was daunting, to say the least. To be honest, it was terrifying.

I contacted someone who has become a close a friend, and who also happens to be a realtor. I told her the story, and told her that I needed to find a new house. My friend, who is not only an amazing realtor but an equally amazing friend, promised me that we would not find a house - we would find a home. And so the search began, us looking at over a dozen houses. We looked at some that were great but not right for one writer, one kid, one dog, three ferrets, and one cat soon to be adopted from the SPCA. And then finally we found it - the perfect little house. As soon as I walked in I felt at peace. It felt right. It felt like home, and it had clearly been lovingly cared for. We quickly put in an offer, and it was accepted - I would have a new home. End of story, right? Wrong.

When the time came for the home inspection the owners, due to a mix-up in communication, were at home. While my home inspector did his work this gave me a chance to speak to them, to get to know the people who owned the house that would soon be my home. I learned that they were retiring after decades in this community, and after sixteen years in this house. We talked about children, and dogs, and I shared a few things with them, too. After the home inspection was completed we said our farewells, the sale moving ahead. Again, end of story, right? Wrong.

A couple of weeks later I was driving by what would be my new home as I often do, checking out the area at different times of day to sense the rhythm of this new environment. There, on the lawn of my soon-to-be new house, was a sign advertising the dining room table for sale. I called immediately, as this was one item I would need, and I had loved the set when I saw it. I arranged to drop by later that week to pay for the dining room table, and so one evening there I was, cash in hand.

The lovely lady of the house and I spoke for a bit. She told me how her husband, being very concerned that I shouldn't have to deal with it when I first moved in, had been working tirelessly to care for the lawn (her husband had not said a word during the earlier home inspection, but I now realized he had been carefully listening to every word I said). She showed me a few items they would leave behind, and then, just as I was about to leave, she said she had a surprise for me.

We stepped out back, onto the back deck overlooking the yard, and she pointed to a small black plot of earth I had noticed on an earlier visit. And that is when she looked at me with a small smile and said, "We planted a garden for you."

There are few times in my life when I have been truly speechless. As soon as she said the words and I looked down to see little rows carefully marked with tiny stakes indicating the kinds of plants the soil would soon yield I felt the prick of tears in my eyes. You see gardens have always had a special place in my heart. My mother, gone for four years now, always had a garden, lush and green and brimming with the fruits of her labour. It was one of the true signs of home for me, a garden lovingly tended and cared for, carrot and lettuce seeds planted with optimism and hope and belief. I looked at this woman, a stranger, and I think I did not need to speak because she saw my face. This simple act of kindness - planting a garden that she and her husband would never see, just for my enjoyment - was beyond thanks. It was, to me, some kind of miracle.

I did thank her, of course, and she came out to the car to meet the Intrepid Junior Blogger. She told me that she and her husband were off on their own adventure, not sure where they would end up, and I told her about the new adventure I was embarking on, captaining a ship of one teenager, one dog, three ferrets, and a soon-to-be adopted cat. I asked her to stay in touch, to send a postcard so I could send her photos of the house and yard...and then she told me that she hoped I would be as happy in the house as she had been. But she didn't say house. She said home.

And so it will be, very soon. Her home, soon to be mine. Her kindnesses, the freshly tended lawn and lovingly planted garden, making me know in my heart that my decision to stay in Fort McMurray - and yes, I did face that decision this year - was the right one. At a point in time when I needed the universe to step in and tell me that I was on the right path, that I had made the right choice, and that it was all going to be okay in the end, the universe failed me - and instead what stepped in was a couple that are retiring after decades in this community, moving on but carrying with them their hopes and dreams and memories. They confirmed to me that my decision was right, that I was on the right path, and that everything truly will be okay - and so it has been.

That couple, the couple who owned my home before it was mine, are what this community is about. They, and people like my dear friend the realtor, and all the other people who have become so important in my world, are what Fort McMurray really is. These are the people who have made this place become home for me, more "home" than anywhere else I have ever lived. And so, very soon, I will move into my new home, with a little garden I did not plant but that was left behind by someone who is passing their home on to me. This is, in the end, a moving story. It's all about moving - moving home.

On Being a Twit - I Mean Tweeter - I Mean Twitterati

This past Tuesday was one of those days at work when things all seem a bit wonky. The day after a long weekend, the day when you realize the three days off were lovely, but that you will now pay for that frivolity with a day of catch up and feeling hopelessly behind. There was a lovely glimmer of good news, though, when I received word that my boss, Tim Reid, had been named to Alberta's 50 Most Influential People 2013 by Alberta Venture. I was delighted, as it is richly deserved given what Tim has accomplished in his time in Fort McMurray, and I clicked on the link I was sent so I could see the rest of those 49 names. I saw he was in stellar company, the likes of our Premier and other figures of note, and then when I glanced at the top of the page I noticed another "Top Influencers" list - this one for people on Twitter.

The only reason I clicked on that link, you see, was my assumption that my dear friend Kathleen, better known as "Kikki Planet", would appear on that list. Kikki is a  Twitter legend, someone I think has had tremendous impact in this province with nothing more than a website and a few thousand well crafted and well aimed 140-character messages on Twitter. I scrolled down the list of Top Twitter Influencers, seeing names I know well from Twitter, and people I deeply admire, such as Dave Cournoyer, Mack Male, Naheed Nenshi, and so many other names I consider to be not only influential but worthy of respect. I scrolled down even further, delighted to see our local MLA Don Scott listed, his penchant for sharing news from government and community noted by this designation of top Twitter influencer. And then I saw Kathleen's name and broke out into a wide smile, as I had known she would be there. And then I saw a familiar name, right under Kikki's. A name and handle I know well, listed alphabetically so coming in at the very bottom of the page. A name that should be well known to me - because it is mine.

To say I was stunned is an understatement. First I giggled - and then I laughed until my coworkers asked if I was alright, me finally stopping long enough to choke out what I had discovered. I suppose the laughter stemmed from my surprise, because I had no expectation I would be on that list.

There are so many others who I think are more worthy than me to be on a list like this. There are so many who use Twitter for the betterment of our community and region, and so many who don't tweet nearly as many frivolous things as I do (for instance my habit of tweeting pictures of shoes, which I must admit I was delighted Alberta Venture commented on). There are so many with better reason to be on that list than me, but I will admit I was delighted and honoured, even if it truly just means I probably spend far too much online.

There are those who may see me commenting on this subject as narcissistic. So be it - I am quite comfortable in my own skin, and I think it is quite okay to celebrate successes, even if they are our own. Mine is tempered by knowing that a great deal of this is due to those who interact with me on Twitter, who make this into a dialogue and not a running monologue. who argue with me, laugh with me, inspire me, and otherwise make Twitter into a place where I can share what I know and learn from others who know far more than I do. I enjoy Twitter because I enjoy interaction, and I enjoy people. I enjoy conversation, and I enjoy the exchange of ideas.

I am quite completely honoured to be in the company of the "Twitterati", as Alberta Venture dubbed this group. I am a bit uncertain of my right to be there, and I am bemused at being described as "the master of intrigue" (not something I would ever, ever call myself). I am thankful for all those who tweet at me, and who reply to my tweets. I am delighted to be part of a community that encompasses my own community right here in Fort McMurray but goes far farther, too, reaching out into the world and allowing me to share my story of life here. Does being a member of the "Twitterati" have any true meaning, any significant impact? I don't know, and I suppose I am a bit dubious about it as on occasion I suspect my only real impact is that I have likely bolstered the retail shoe economy by getting more people hooked on shoes - but am I honoured, pleased, and delighted to be on this list? You are damn right I am. I am more than thrilled to be a Twit. I mean a Tweeter. I mean a Twitterati, whatever that really means. I suppose in the end I hope it just means that in some very small way I have affected the lives of others - even if only for one brief tweet.

My thanks to

Alberta Venture 

for including me on the list

and my congrats to all my fellow

"Twitterati" ;)

The Lurking Storm Cloud Overhead - and What it Could Mean for Our Community

It was with deep concern that I read a recent article in the Edmonton Journal. I knew that this issue was looming overhead, like a lurking dark cloud, but I was hopeful that it would dissipate into a sunny summer sky like our storm clouds often do here in the north. This time, however, the storm cloud is not breaking up but rather coalescing and looking more and more ominous. I am growing increasingly concerned, because while the storm has not yet hit it threatens to do so, and the resulting impact could have devastating long term effects. The focus of this storm? The impending shortage of land lots and homes in the region.

The land is there, and ready to be developed. In fact services have already been arranged for many of these lots, and developers are ready. So what is the hold up? The roads to access them. There are at the present time about 40 lots still available. And while there is currently a lull in the real estate market this will not likely last should pipelines be approved and projects go ahead. It is estimated the need is for about 600 lots yearly, and without access to these areas waiting for development we are in trouble. Serious, serious trouble. Some of the access roads that would enable the opening of new neighbourhoods are not anticipated to come online until 2015 or even later - and by then it could be too late. Too late for what, you ask? For the community.

We are trying to build a community. We are trying to attract new residents, asking them to buy into the Fort McMurray dream. We are asking them to come here with their families, or to start their families here. We are looking for those who want to help us build this community, to create a place of wonder and beauty and opportunity. But we need one thing to truly get them here, to see this as a community and not a camp town. We need to make sure they have a place to live.

This is where I will likely go on a bit of a rant, so bear with me. Unfortunately the decision to neglect to fund these access roads in the provincial budget is typical of the short term thinking we have had to contend with in this community. If you look around and note the things we are lacking - infrastructure, and the rest - the reason we are currently suffering is because at some point in the past someone ignored the impending storm clouds and simply looked the other way. Our needs have been ignored or shuffled around or given lower priority despite our tremendous impact on the economy of this province. We have dealt with inadequacies of every nature, from not having a walk-in clinic until this past year (in my view an absolute absurdity given our size) to traffic jams foisted upon us due to road improvements that have been delayed and delayed until it was far too late to avoid problems. We are constantly looking in the rear-view mirror, seeing the "could have, should have dones", hampered by a lack of vision, foresight, and planning. And before anyone freaks out and starts penning hate mail (I got enough of that this week over the mere idea of moving a casino and a strip club, thanks) I am not talking about flooding the market with lots and driving housing prices into the ground. I own a home here too, and I am no more anxious than anyone else to see house prices drop dramatically - but I do believe we need to have enough lots to grow in a responsible and steady manner, allowing our population to increase and provide the homes we need.

Here is my fear. We will endure a shortage of homes. Families that would have chosen to move here will stay in their other communities, and not bring to us their skills, enthusiasm, and community spirit. Those who come here to work will instead stay in camps or hotels, leading to a burgeoning camp and transient population, and further weakening the sense of community building. All the work done in the past few years to build community will weaken, and falter - why build anything new, from retail malls to recreation centres, if we don't have the population to support them? We will face even more challenges, but perhaps insurmountable ones this time as we will lose residents who will never come here. We will lose momentum in our community building. And, in the end, we could fail to achieve our true potential.

Perhaps you think this is overly dramatic and too dire, but I disagree. I have long been saying we are at a pivotal point in our development as a community. I have been saying we are on the cusp of something truly amazing, something unique and wonderful - but so too we could be on the cusp of disaster. The thing about pivotal points it that they can go either way - up or down, into a future brimming with hope and optimism or into a future filled with regrets and wishes that we could have done it differently.

The storm clouds are gathered overhead. They are perched above us, and they appear to be growing darker. I realize that other storm clouds recently rolled through Alberta and left devastation in their wake, and that there is a financial price to be paid there to restore those communities. I advocate for them as they go about rescuing their communities from the damage the floods left behind - and today I advocate for my community, asking that the provincial government find a way to ensure the storm clouds above us do not bring on a disaster of another kind, not a natural one but rather one fueled by short term thinking. This community is being threatened by the growing storm. And while I am a bit of a storm junkie, someone who could easily become a storm chaser enchanted by wild weather and tornadoes, this is one storm I would rather see drift away, leaving behind a clear blue sky - and a community with sky-high potential to become something truly incredible.

Cat Thoughts, Gamer Girls, Cinefiles, and the YMMPodcast

My friends over at YMMPodcast have been busy these days. Aside from the usual podcasting, tweeting, and facebooking they have also been making more and more YouTube videos, so many I have been having trouble keeping up. Today I took the time to check it out, and there are some very interesting things going on, from the Cinefiles movie reviews to Cat Thoughts.

 

 

 

I suppose what I truly love about all this is that the gang at YMMPodcast are doing what they love. They talk about video games and movies, and, yes, cats. They are exploring their interests, and sharing those interests with others.

I am particularly intrigued with Cat Thoughts. I’ve considered inviting them over to film an episode of “Ferret Thoughts” with the Intrepid Junior Blogger’s trio of weasels, but the truth is that the weasels think entirely in action verbs, like run, jump, pounce, dance, climb, and so on, and thus make very poor film subjects (every photo and video I have of them shows a small furry blur).

 

I am also intrigued by the Gamer Girls vs Gamer Guys series, but I have a soft spot for that one for a different reason. When Tito of YMMPodcast contacted me to ask if the IJB might be interested in filming a segment I knew she would be delighted. She was quite nervous about the whole thing, as she prefers performances in which she has had the chance to rehearse and knows her lines, but she does the improv thing rather well too. And she knows her video game stuff, as she is an avid gamer (particularly RPG such as Skyrim and Oblivion) and she has many, many opinions she is anxious to share (and no, I have no idea where she gets this quality from).

In this video segment she chats with Steve Reeve about the perils and pitfalls of the new XBOX One and uses phrases like “invasion of privacy”,  which might sound cute coming out of that adorable little face but I can guarantee she has ferocious views about the creepiness of being “watched”. Woe betide anyone who gets on the wrong side of this one, including unwary video gaming system manufacturers who think she isn’t paying attention. She is, and she has you dead to rights, too.

So, here she is with Steve Reeve, as well as Ashcakesquiggle and Dylan, son of fellow blogger Russell Thomas. It seems somehow my kid has become part of the YMMPodcast family, a family of which I am proud to be a member, too. We are all out there doing what we do, exploring our passions and sharing them on podcasts, through blogs, and YouTube videos. We are all taking advantage of the opportunities in this community, and enjoying our ability to share what we love with others. If you read this blog I would suggest you also consider listening to YMMPodcast and subscribing to their YouTube channel – because they are yet another facet of this place we call home, cat thoughts and all.

 

The Elephants in the Downtown Core

I had been thinking about this for some time, but credit really must go to Marshall Madness of KAOS Radio for reminding me of it today on Twitter. He commented this morning about the Boomtown Casino, and his comment got me thinking about a couple of businesses that have their place in our community - but maybe not in the places they are in.

Before I begin this post I want to make clear I have no problem with either of the establishments I mention. They are not places I frequent, although I have been in the casino to work for various non-profit organizations as fundraisers. The other place - our local strip club - I have never visited, but I recognize that there are those who do. My thoughts are this: do these two businesses belong in the downtown core of Fort McMurray? I think the answer is no.

There is a vision in this community of what our downtown core should become - vibrant, energetic, urban. And while casinos and strip clubs may seem urban more and more true urban centres move those businesses into areas outside the downtown core, and for good reasons.

The casino downtown adds to the parking chaos at the local mall. And if you are like me then you too have witnessed incidents of a violent nature in that parking lot. In an area already filled with nightclubs the addition of the casino simply adds more people and potential problems to the mix. Why not move the casino to another location in town, freeing up that space in the urban core? This seems to me utterly logical, and a way to eliminate some of the issues we do see downtown. I am not in favour of eradicating gambling entirely, although I am troubled by some of the issues associated with it, including gambling addictions. I recognize the casino serves many community organizations very well, allowing them to raise funds that would otherwise be very challenging to secure. And I acknowledge there are those who enjoy both the experience and the atmosphere of the casino - but the question remains if that would be better enjoyed in a different location, freeing up some prime downtown land in the process.

And that brings us to Showgirls. Again, I don't have a real issue with strip clubs. I spent my twenties living in Toronto, where strip clubs pop up on Yonge Street. I acknowledge the interest in them, and that it is a business - but again I question whether this business needs to be located in the downtown core. To what benefit is it there? Does it lend that vibrant and urban feel we seek, or does it detract from it? And in the end does it even serve their business well to be located there?

There are communities that have moved establishments such as casinos and strip clubs to the outer city limits or industrial areas, while others have in fact moved these businesses into the downtown core. An argument can be made either way, I think, but for me I believe that to capture the vibrant urban feel we seek we must consider carefully what we want that picture to look like. Does it include strip clubs and casinos or is it boutique stores and funky coffee shops? And what is the impact of moving these businesses to another location?

I think the time has come to have this dialogue, especially as we begin to see the plans for the new downtown Fort McMurray begin to take shape. Perhaps this is the time we begin to talk about the elephants in the room - or the downtown, in this case - and work on a plan that both accommodates them and fits in with our vision for our community. This is one case where I admit I don't know the entire answer, or the best solution - but in my opinion the casino and strip club don't fit in with the downtown vision I have in my head. This is one occasion where I think having that conversation is of vital importance, because we are slowly seeing our downtown transform - and now is the time to make sure it reflects exactly what we want it to be, because this is our chance to get it right. The question is: What is right for us?

CanadaROCKS, Fireworks, A Parade, and Pride

We had been vacillating for most of the day, to be honest. The Intrepid Junior Blogger and I were seated comfortably on the sofa, deep into pizza and potato chips, and ogling Hugh Jackman as Wolverine in The X-Men. Both of us were pretty exhausted, me after several busy weeks at work and preparing for a house move, and her after a long year of school and pre-summer-camp preparations. We had been tempted by the concert going on down at the Snye, the annual CanadaROCKS festival from Events Wood Buffalo, but inertia had set in. When my cell phone buzzed with a message I turned to the IJB and said “Should we go down at 11 and catch the last band? And then the fireworks?” Those placid huge brown eyes turned on me and she said “Fireworks?” – and that is how we found ourselves down at the park behind the Clearwater Public Education Centre as the daylight began to fade.

We found a place to park, quite close to the field, in a secret parking lot I know (and no, I am not going to tell you where it is as then it won’t be secret, and next time I’ll have to fight you for a spot, and besides there has to be some bonus in living here long enough to have discovered these secret spots). We walked in, her and I, both of us wearing our Doc Marten concert boots, ready to be entertained.

 

We arrived at the field and made our way inside, just in time to catch the final two songs from Simple Plan, who had apparently extended their set in order to accommodate Mother Mother, the band from Vancouver who had encountered significant challenges to be there. Cancelled and delayed flights, missing gear, and all the other frustrations known by every touring band, Mother Mother had arrived at the concert venue with a police escort.

We stood at the back of the field, spraying each other with Deep Woods Off when we realized the ferocious appetite of the hovering mosquitoes. I looked at the IJB and asked if she wanted to be closer to the stage for Mother Mother, and she, being my child, said yes, as she and I both want to be in the middle of whatever is happening, for better or worse. The stage front was crowded, though, and I could see doubt creeping into her. I told her to stay right behind me, and to keep up – and then we dove in, me knowing that the crowd would thin when Simple Plan left the stage. And so we ended up just one row back from the front of the stage, ready for Mother Mother.

When Mother Mother hit the stage we both stood in awe, as they are an amazing band. The lead singer channels a young Billy Idol, and the IJB was quite taken with one of the female keyboardists who, as she said, seemed so enthusiastic and into the music. We enjoyed the brief set, truncated a bit by the lateness of their arrival and the need to move on to the fireworks. At one point, when some young men behind us got a bit rowdy, a young man with a bright red mohawk who was up against the fence asked if the IJB would like his spot at the fence, and so she moved ahead, him standing behind her in a protective manner, keeping her safe from the rowdy ones behind us (that young man with the red mohawk is a stranger of whom I am now very fond, as this simple act of kindness impressed me beyond words).

When Mother Mother hit their final notes and left the stage out came local band Destranged, to wave a Canadian flag and lead the crowd in “Oh Canada” – and then the first booms were heard, and the IJB and I rushed towards the Snye to catch the fireworks to usher in Canada Day.

It was an amazing display, too, such beautiful fireworks exploding over the riverbank. As they exploded the IJB asked me questions – how they arranged the firing sequence, how they got the different colours, how pyrotechnics work – leading me to quiet mutterings about how I thought that was why the internet had given us Google, to save people like me from answering questions we don’t have the faintest idea about, but I tried to answer in my most likely highly inaccurate way.

 

We oohed and we aahed, and we hugged each other, and afterwards we made our way home to crawl into bed smelling of bug spray, to get up early and get ready for the Canada Day parade.

The IJB and I have been attending the parade for so many years now. I remember when she was so very little, although this year when she appeared wearing her denim shorts and striped blazer and bright red lipstick the fact that she is almost fourteen reached into my heart and grabbed it. I realized how few and precious these remaining parade years are, and so we ventured out, first to Starbucks and then to secure a spot on the parade route.

 

We were, as usual, enchanted. The RMWB City Centre float, made of the recycled floor from the Syncrude Sport and Wellness Centre. The bagpipers. The Communities in Bloom group with wheelbarrows filled with greenery. Local politicians, schoolchildren, dogs, and all the rest, all the people who make up this community – our home. I think, though, she and I were most taken with all the various cultural groups. After the third or fourth group she turned to me and commented on how this was truly the most multicultural place, how languages from Tagalog to Russian are spoken here, how this is the place where people from around the world choose to come and stay – and I realized that in our eleven years here she has become a citizen of the world, a global one who has learned to appreciate and value the cultural identities and traditions of others.

The parade was, in a word, incredible. It was hot just to watch it, the IJB and I dripping sweat, and I cannot even imagine the tenacity of those walking in it. And yet they did, celebrating Canada Day and community and home.

The IJB looked at me as we made our way back to the car when the parade finally ended, both of us hot and sweaty and in need of a nap. She said “I am really proud to be Canadian. We might not shove it in other people’s faces, but I think we are pretty patriotic. Look at all those flags, all that red and white. I am a proud Canadian.” I looked back at her and smiled, and said “Me too, kitten. Me too.” And so I am.

 

My thanks to

Events Wood Buffalo

for yet another amazing year

of Canada Day celebrations!

Why Today Might Just Be the Best Canada Day Ever

As the clock turned to midnight last night my thoughts turned to some recent events in our community, and our province. As I watched fireworks explode over the Snye in downtown Fort McMurray what occurred to me is that I do not know if I have ever been prouder to be Albertan than these past few weeks – and prouder to be Canadian.

I watched in horror when our community began to flood in early June. I watched as residents were evacuated, and as homes were left behind to uncertain fates. I watched as buildings that I know and love, like the historic buildings in Heritage Park, began to fill with water. And I watched as hundreds of volunteers descended with nothing more than their determination and muscle, fillings hundreds of sand bags. I watched as people from every demographic of this community worked beside each other. I think, in some sense, I watched a defining moment in the new generation of this place, and I was incredibly proud and honoured to see it.

And then, when the worst had passed for us, the rains began in southern Alberta. I think I was not alone in watching that situation unfold with mounting horror, seeing entire communities evacuated. I knew I had never witnessed anything like this in all my decades on this planet, and I knew this was history being made, a natural disaster in our province. Then, just as had happened here, the rain began to slow, and stop – and a new flood began. A flood of people who wanted to help.

They went into areas that had been cleared, and began to help people clear the debris out of their homes. I am stunned that some, having likely lost many of their possessions in the flood and unable to return home, chose to spend their time helping others. It was a coming together of an unprecedented kind, and yet of a kind that my parents, who grew up on the Prairies during the Dirty Thirties, understood. We often call ourselves a “global community”, and yet I think we are perhaps more disconnected than ever, connecting to each other most often in only the most digital and superfluous ways – but in June 2013, the residents of this province showed themselves to be true global citizens. We stood together against floodwaters, and we supported each other. We helped where we could and when we could, and we donated, volunteered, and did whatever was needed to help others. And why? Why did we do this? Because we are all in this together.

When we are in a crisis all other things fall away – our different ages, disparate cultures, varied life histories. We cease to define ourselves in fine strokes and instead begin to see ourselves as humans. As Canadians. As Albertans. As community. As friends. And so we begin to work towards a common goal, whether it is sandbagging a building so floods cannot damage it further, or helping a stranger clear damaged goods out of their basement after the water has drained away.

You see I think what I saw in the last month, more clearly than ever, is how we are truly so similar in every way that matters. Perhaps we cheer for different sports teams, or vote for different politicians. Perhaps we are right wing in political stance, or lean far left. Perhaps we see the glass as half empty, or half full – but when it comes right down to it – when the “chips are down” as my dad always said – we come together from a place of commonality. The differences fall away, and fade into the realm of “not important” as we focus on what matters – family, friends, and community.

To say I am proud this week – to be Canadian, to be Albertan, to be a member of this incredible community – is an understatement. I am beyond proud. I am, I think, renewed in my faith in us as true global citizens. I had begun to fear we connect only through mediums like Twitter and Facebook, forgetting and foregoing that genuine human connection. This past month, June 2013, showed that we have not forgotten. It showed who we are. It showed our strength, our compassion, and our citizenship. It showed that we are, in the end, in this together. And for me? I am honoured to stand beside such amazing people. I am proud of all those volunteers in my community, and in this province. I am incredibly proud of the decisive leadership of our Premier and her government, who did not waffle or waver when faced with a crisis that few governments in our province have ever faced. I am proud, in fact, of every citizen of this province and this community.

I believe that June, 2013, was a defining moment in the history of Alberta, and Fort McMurray. As the fireworks exploded last night I thought about how it was a new month, and Canada’s 146^th birthday. I thought about my pride in being Canadian and Albertan. And I thought about the work that lies ahead, with so many still displaced from their homes and continuing to face challenges every single day. I thought, though, about how we will continue to stand beside them, and support them, and put aside the things that make us different and focus only on the things that make us the same. I have renewed faith and optimism – and it is all because of a flood that touched my community, and my province. Sometimes it is in the greatest challenges where we find our greatest strength – and in this past month we met a monstrous challenge. We countered it with an incredible show of strength and courage. We showed who we are. We are Canadian. We are Albertan. We are the Fort McMurray community. We are together, come hell – or high water.

Happy Canada Day, fellow global citizens and friends. Today is the first day of many months of challenges ahead for our province – and I could not feel more optimistic about our ability to overcome them. We proved ourselves in June 2013 – and in July 2013 we will begin to truly shine as we clean off the mud and silt and dirt left behind, and rebuild our province and our community. We will, in the end, be better than ever – because we will do it together, side by side, filling our sandbags full of hope, compassion, courage, and strength.

Happy Canada Day!