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Writer's pictureKim Letson

Goodbye – Au revoir – Auf Wiedersehen – Adiós – Arrivederci – 2021.


Wanting to write about a funny experience in 2021, after much thought, I’ve come up empty. Events such as receipt of COVID vaccines, the birth of my grandson, the completion of my third book have been happy, exciting interludes. I spent a week as Writer in Residence at McLoughlin Gardens – an honour. I left the island for a three day visit to Pender Harbour on the Sunshine Coast – an adventure.

Nothing about this past year has induced an endorphin-releasing belly laugh. Instead, I marked 2021 by watching vegetable seedlings wither, tomato plants stunt, strawberries shrivel, and blueberries desiccate under the heat dome. Bright side? The raspberries were prolific. Then forest fires ripped swaths of destruction through the province, followed by atmospheric rivers dumping enough torrential rain to cause catastrophic floods and washouts. Bright side? Maybe more folk will consider climate change to be a serious and immanent threat. Now a series of windstorms, snowfalls and a polar vortex have knocked out power and caused pipes to freeze. Bright side? I have power at the moment. My wood stove is keeping me cozy. I’m able to offer showers to neighbours because my pipes remain unfrozen – for now anyway.

During an eight-hour power outage on Christmas Eve, while pondering the challenges of preparing Christmas dinner with no running water, I walked to the beach with two friends. We faced a raw wind hurrying waves smashing into snow-covered driftwood logs. Just offshore the sigh and plume of a whale spout, followed by a glistening dorsal fin arching above the waves, announced a humpback. Two whales paraded by, the rhythm of spray, fin, shallow dive, repeated until a raised fluke waved goodbye. The joy of that sighting erased all domestic concerns. We walked home, entering as power flickered back on and the house began its familiar hum. No need to scrub potatoes with snow.

This has not been an easy year for many people. For some it has been disastrous. To everyone who as suffered, I hope you have the support you need to see you through. My community of friends and family keep me strong, smiling – even if not belly laughing, and remind me how important it is to be connected and empathetic. My biggest take-away from 2021 – we are better together and need community to survive and thrive.

As I write this, a large rat has popped out of the snow beneath the window. He’s regarding me with twitching whiskers and bright eyes, “Let me in. It’s cold out here.”

“No, Mr. Rat, you stay out there.”

“I’ll chew my way in – you know I will.”

I have no doubt that clever creature has a band of fiendish like-minded friends. Scamper, scamper. Their feet skuttle along narrow windowsills and scuffle across frozen eavestroughs. Munch, munch. Their teeth gnaw at worn cedar siding. Those rats have a fine understanding of community strength. Lacy patrols our perimeter, tail wagging in expectation. Armed with a rat-chasing broom and closing the door behind me, I’m going to the barn to retrieve more firewood. Under siege.

Here’s to an easier 2022 and the strength to endure whatever the coming months throw our way. And here’s to finding something better to laugh about than Kim and Lacy defending our shire from a hoard of marauding rats – although, that does sketch a funny 2021-appropriate picture.

1 comentário


Mary Catherine Rolston
Mary Catherine Rolston
04 de jan. de 2022

Thanks Kim for your humorous and thought provoking blog post. The rats certainly are armed with optimistic, collaborative persistence! Love your poetic reflective introductory vlog. MC

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