Rain. How quickly things become normal. How quickly damp and cold becomes simply the way a body feels. Winter in Squamish creeps into the soul with such subtle artistry. And sure, at first we keep the inner-fire alive, stoking the low flames with memories of sun, the smell of cooking earth, of winters spent in…

Cinco pizzas por favor. I’m not sharing. Ceci can get her own. When I was a kid, or so my grandfather always reminds us, my brother & I would chuck full garbage bags against the garage door of his cottage and say that our utmost ambition in life was to become garbage men. And to…