March 2, 2016: West Ham

The Hammers!

When in London, see the Hammers! The getting there and getting out were amazing too! Dave Rivington, thank you! We saw their final home game at The Boleyn Stadium. Lucky to be at such an historic night. And police, dogs, exit rules for Tottenham, the singing! They beat the Tottenham Hotspurs.

Wrap up video here


Dave writes:  Classic "old school" outside ground atmosphere, police dogs, horses and sirens. We walked through the allotments past Green Street, passed the Lord Stanley and Victoria tavern on the way to the Black Lion by Plaistow tube. Loved Marc's shouts of "Come On You Irons!" while Sheila knew the sheet music for Bubbles (likely the only person in the ground)

Sophie Writes Too!

Our daughter Sophie is an Aquarist at Ripley's Aquarium of Canada in Toronto.  She writes too, her own Natural History & Science Communication blog - and leant her hand here, on the Ripley's Deep Sea Blog in September of 2017.

December 2017: Peterborough's Motto, Its Citizens and Council: A Disconnect?

If you've ever been inside Peterborough's Council Chambers, your eye may be drawn to the city's Coat of Arms, hanging above elected officials' tables for 67 years. Peterborough's Latin motto, “Dat Natura, Elaborant Artes”, roughly translates into "nature gives bountifully, and the arts and crafts and energy of the people develop and elaborate on nature’s gift." 

As a downtown newcomer to the city, I have the sense of a disconnect in how this motto is being interpreted by its people and its leadership.

Peterborough's People

Since our arrival 18 months ago, we have attended so many community-led events on foot that it's been dizzying. The people, businesses and citizen groups working hard to create a supportive, inclusive, local, green and entrepreneurial community bring a youthful and contemporary edge to the city. We have frequented both beaches, revelled in the bike culture here. The music and arts events! My husband runs through the Jackson Park trails, inspired that such a community asset is so close at hand. The creative effort by the Downtown Business Improvement Association is helping bring an invigoration to the city's core. We've been taught about First Nations presence here and having recently discovered Harper Park (a diamond in the rough!), the research and mapping with both Jackson and Harper Creeks is inspirational. The Canoe Museum, another asset poised to become Peterborough's next world-class attraction, reflects the outdoor history of here and of Canada.

As a newcomer, I can feel the reinvention taking place throughout all sectors, growing, ready to break through the surface. This vibe is something I hope the people of Peterborough are proud of - it is tangible - and lives up to the city's motto of "Dat Natura, Elaborant Artes".

Peterborough's Council

Approval of massive development projects are dominating Council decisions in these months leading up to the 2018 election. Since our arrival: a casino at the welcome gates, close to 1,000 acres of housing development at Lilly Lake and the Liftlock, a $50 million twin-pad arena next to a wildlife sanctuary / wetland / outdoor education centre, the Parkway again, the Charlotte St. renewal project, and now a study regarding an $80 million Memorial Centre rebuild. 

Peterborough City Hall

©CLIFFORD SKARSTEDT

PETERBOROUGH EXAMINER

QMI AGENCY

Within these big-ticket decisions, some process questions arise, particularly around what seems to be not only a disconnect from Peterborough's motto, "Dat Natura, Elaborant Artes", but also a disconnect with the thousands of citizens who are working hard to define Peterborough as a place different from all the other cities within the Golden Horseshoe.

I've attended 2 Council meetings and streamed 4, and I am struck by the longevity of service of many Council members, something they are to be congratulated for. The Mayor has been voting on behalf of citizens for 16 years, and by the time of the next election, it seems that 4 out of 11 members of Council will be approaching, if not already celebrating, their 70th birthday. There are only 2 women out of 11 elected officials, and no person who is not-white. One Council member doesn't live in Peterborough. There are 2 Council members who are affiliated with the real estate / retail development sector.

2017 Expertise & Viewpoints

Decisions made with respect for the environment are sadly lacking with this Council, and if there are Council members with this view, they are definitely a minority, silenced through vote-on-motions results.  To be fair, Council relies on expertise from city staff, and nowhere on the City staff organization chart can I find someone who is in a position to provide Council with advice on environmental impacts, someone who can educate, represent and promote a greener approach to developmental decision-making.

View from Trent Sanctuary hike

A perfect example of this is the assessments done by the consulting firm D.M. Wills Associates Limited regarding the twin-pad arena on Trent lands. Despite there being a wetland, a wildlife sanctuary, long-term research projects and an outdoor education center, on page 16 of their Phase 1 report, item 4.3.4 "Water Bodies and Areas of Natural Significance Available mapping was reviewed, and no Areas of Natural and Scientific Interest (ANSI) were identified within the Phase One Study Area."  

If hired consultants don't place any value on the remaining wild areas within Peterborough, if assessment specifications don't guide them to do so, if there is a lack of expertise amongst city staff advisors, and leaders don't seem to have an environmental lens, Council is free to behave within the status quo and continue with the thinking of decades gone by.

With the latest Parkway debacle, for a Council to actively pursue a disregard for provincial orders or laws for environmental impact assessments is, quite, unbelievable. To disregard natural habitat repeatedly, as evidenced in the Casino and twin-pad arena sites, is backward-thinking and represents a pattern of action that does not reflect current trends in urban planning or laws enacted by the Provincial or Federal governments. Nor is this attitude in keeping with 2017 or Peterborough's motto  "Dat Natura, Elaborant Artes".

A River Runs Through It

A bike ride  / swim day at Little Lake

During the heat and drought of our first summer here, the summer of 2016, we were thankful to have a river running through our city ending in Little Lake, an asset that helped us choose to live here. How exciting to be able to bike to these shores for a swim, and how disappointing to find that there are no river access points and that few locals swim in Little Lake waters due to half a century of contamination. According to SwimGuide, a water quality tracker developed by Lake Ontario Waterkeeper, during the summer of 2017, our local waters were swimmable only 64% of the time. Yet a City project was completed in 2017, amidst much pride and fanfare, making Little Lake beaches wheelchair accessible. A disconnect.

Moving Forward

I am encouraged by the expertise and citizen groups in our midst, including Trent University and Fleming College. There is a palpable interest amongst the public in becoming a more environmentally responsible community, as evidenced by the many groups and businesses working towards this goal. The youthful demographic Council is approving housing development for also has environmental respect at the top of their agendas. The recent launch of a local high school credit program, Youth Leadership in Sustainability, will help educate our next generation of leaders. 

As we approach the spring of 2018, when current members of Council announce their intent to seek re-election, Peterborough will examine its commitment to its motto, its commitment to the land upon which we live, its commitment to the status quo. I have hope that these issues may become election issues, that more forward-thinking citizens will step up and run for office. This does not represent change. Its the Peterborough that has been here all along, "Dat Natura, Elaborant Artes".

Sheila Strickland

December, 2017

October 2017: Sunflowers - For The Birds!

There is so much pleasure to be gained from planting seeds!  Its a science lesson in miracles, harkening back to elementary school days of styrofoam cups and weak, thin stems reaching for the sun on un-winterized window sills. Classmates' names etched in ink on masking tape.

First buds poking through the soil, the seedlings go home, either to languish on a sunless kitchen counter through busy family days or to end up in a sunny pot, nurtured. Those that make it into a garden, with a child's watching eye, the miracle of the experiment stays with us forever. 

As the 6th child of a city gardener and early-60s composter, my mother planted a third of our suburban Toronto backyard with food. Tomatoes, spinach, swiss chard, carrots, rhubarb, beans, snow peas, a stint of berries, and at almost 50 years later, I can still count the rows. She relied on these vegetables to round out our diet and one spring, my eldest brother surprised her with a rototiller, the rental fee coming from the fruits of her employed, first child. Come fall, our basement piano was surrounded by hundreds of ripening tomatoes, half of us gingerly navigating towards our dad-built bedrooms so as to not squish the produce. The smell of a green tomato can still take me back to those days of my childhood home and late fall harvests.

She gave me my first garden bed, a narrow 3-foot strip culled from the edge of the cement brick patio abutting our post-war era bungalow's back wall, "The best place to catch the warmth of the sun", she cooed. Hollyhock seeds she gave me, their lore linked to fruitfulness and ambition, a plant tall and majestic despite its preference for poor, infertile soil. I've since grown hollyhocks in every home we've owned.

Now a gardener at heart, I've created some beauty in the spots I've been a steward of, for a gardener is just that - the steward of the piece of earth one currently inhabits. I bring plants with me from place to place, I plant seeds and rooted cuttings from species native to the area, hoping to replenish my current patch of earth with the flora that once was. Its a quiet endeavour, rooted in simplicity, respect for ecosystems, helping to attract beneficial insects, birds and wildlife.

A recent move has brought me to an urban center, a milieu I've not lived in for close to 3 decades. Our rented century brick home sits on a neglected urban lot, filled with violets, my neighbour's intruding hydrangeas, deadening Lilacs, an ailing Crimson Leaf Maple, hostas and too many roaming cats. Used to succession planting bringing me a bevy of flowering bouquets throughout the year, I face our new reality with a sense of defeat. How do I approach this? A pastime once so loved, now seems daunting, and not mine to own.

Last spring, I find out about a Seed Exchange, or Seedy Sunday as its known in this town. There is a solid movement here to replenish, depave, to encourage pollinator gardens, to become better stewards of our own patch of earth, some of the inspiration I need in my new urban. I mark my calendar and attend, with hundreds of others, the event where vendors sell their wares, their seeds, their seedlings,  inform, teach, where people connect with one another over this shared interest. I find the back kitchen room in this church basement that hosts the Seed Exchange, and many people are milling about, checking out the tiny envelopes with handwritten Latin names, reminding me so much of those early styrofoam sunflower cups.

I come upon the sunflower seeds, along with Datura, or Angel Trumpets, which I've also grown in every bed I've owned, as tribute to an older woman in my life who showed me this blooms' beauty. I come home with a sense of purpose, a way to mark my urban lot with my own signature. I set up my seed trays, find this house's sunny spots, and await the miracles to begin.

Hundreds of seedlings line my windowsills by early May, relegating shelf trinkets back to their packing boxes. By planting time, I've got 40 sturdy seedlings and into bigger pots they go, hardening off in the warming days before being planted in their own patch of earth. Not knowing what to expect, I plant the sturdiest dozen sunflowers in 3 different locations. Not amending the soil too much, I hope for the best.  By July, in my sunniest spot, they're 6 feet high, by August, close to 10. By bloom's time, the sunflower pod is as big as a dinner plate. My opposite neighbour, of the no-hydrangeas variety, reports that their 2nd-floor staircase-window frames the blooms perfectly as they descend each day, and I explain to their young children what this adventure is all about. 

Such miracles! And the rural wildlife I miss so much?  Bluejays, squirrels, chipmunks and an invasive Eurasian bird I've yet to identify feed daily on the seeds. As first frosts descend, I'm trying to keep the blooms planted for as long as possible, and have culled some for drying to hang as a winter feed experiment.  All in all, a very successful and satisfying urban garden adventure!

Thank you to Seedy Sunday, its hosts, visionaries, vendors, seed cullers. I'm drying my own seeds this year - heirloom marigolds, zinnias, hyacinth, datura - and will be marking my own little envelopes with masking tape and ink, sharing the wealth of what has been more than a few seeds given to me in my new home last spring.

Sheila,

October 20, 2017

Church Bells

Posted on Facebook, January 2016, after 6 weeks in Italy:

Happening at hours unpredictable and out of place at first, after weeks spent in one place, their chiming becomes a time-marker, the moment where you look up from your task - and if lucky, your pillow - and breathe, if only for a second.

No two sets of bells sound the same, and you come to distinguish your corner church from the larger neighbourhood's church, which in turn differs from the next corner's and neighbourhood's bells, blending with the larger city church, all clanging out their moments as bell soup. The clamour has a near and distant timbre in our listening, and those of interest, we seek them out to be close by when they clang their glory.

Bell Ringers, 2000, Alexander Kosnichev, Russia

I can't help but wonder what it would be like if church bells made their comeback in Canada. Pews are as empty in Italy on Sundays, at weekday morning Masses, as they are at home. But Italy's church bells still ring. They announce a presence, a reminder of the spiritual, and I can't help but think, no matter your belief, that hearts and souls respond to the ringing of the bells.

Maybe it would do us some good to be nudged to look up, to take a breath, to ponder for a moment something calm, harkening. Imagine if their call was not attached to an organized religion, but to a moment where we pause, reflect on our place in the universe, a reminder of how we treat one another, how each of us can contribute to a better world. Give the bell ringers reason to dance.

January, 2016

March 2016: International Women's Day

*originally posted on Facebook, March 8, 2016, 2 days before the end of our dream, 4-month trip:

International Women's Day, a day that I struggle with - sometimes I ignore it, sometimes I pay tribute. Today I tribute.

This change in our lives, and this trip, was partially sparked by an ordinary woman, a woman who toiled daily to raise her son, to help raise other people's children, to face her divorce with no holds barred, to guard her independence by every means possible. She loved fiercely, her fury was to be avoided, her friendships were deep, lifelong, and from every walk of life. She had no sympathy during a game of Scrabble, would have had Christmas decorations up all year long if we'd let her and she was very, very loved.

She was my oldest sister Kathy, who's 2nd round of cancer killed her too swiftly for words. She hated to travel, loved to be home, to be the center of all things family. Her death reminded me again that life is not fair, it's short, and to Carpe Diem.

A few years ago, she chose to celebrate her 60th birthday with us in Chelsea, getting on the train by herself, something that would have taken a lot of courage. She was already suspecting her 1st cancer, didn't talk about it, put on skates for the first time in years, we had so much fun together, enjoying each other walking, arm in arm, and I bought her red earrings that caught her eye as we passed a shop window.

I brought those earrings on this trip, her leather gloves too, to remind me not only of the power of her spirit, but as thanks to her for our last 4 months - 11 cities, planes, trains, buses, our feet and a camel. We land in Canada in 2 days' time.

To all these remarkable, ordinary women in our lives, you never, ever know who you will inspire, but it will be someone. That's power.

Comments received:

Lucy Daly:That made me cry the best tears! Hugs to you Sheila!

Bettina Ralph: Love you La la la!

Elizabeth Flanagan: lots of love a beautiful tribute

Laura Fowler-Massie: That made me cry too! xoxo

Jennifer Buttars: So beautiful, Sheila.Thanks for sharing such a heartfelt story of love and courage. Carpe

diem says it all.

Correne Giles-Letourneau:Thank you for being a remarkable ordinary amazing lady!

Andrew Leach: That was lovely. Thank you, Sheila.

Sarah R Cox: You are spectacular Sheila Strickland. I love you!

Liz Philp Cheers to your sister Sheila and to the love you shared. I add that there have been many a woman thathas inspired me and proud to say I too inspire. Xo

Eva Cooper: Wow! I love what you wrote and the message that we can take and share with others. Safe travels back to Canada - sunny ways await you

Robyn Wright-Baker Sheila you are truly an inspiration to us all. You have almost completed a huge check off

your bucket list which your sister I am certain is smiling and giving you a big thumbs up! I look forward to seeingyou and Mark at this years potkie festival in Stanbridge!!!safe travels.