Toby goes for a Ride

Well, that was quite a hiatus! Thank you for all the kind words and support over these past few weeks as I worked, studied and researched. I loved hearing that ag.gray.gate's daily offerings were missed. For those of you who have been waiting...I handed in my completed business plan for the Boomtown Brewing Company last Monday and by Friday I had the news. It was accepted. Yay, for this Mompreneur and for this little family!!!! 2011 is gonna be a BIG year. I am equal parts excited and scared.
Other than me being fully engrossed in the brewing world, it has been life as usual. Since moving to Rossland six months ago my husband Mike commutes quite a bit back to Vancouver. On a good trip he goes to film something, on all the other trips he goes so that there is food on the table. Sometimes he crashes with friends and at other times he sleeps in the Cavallac. When he is able to take Toby (the Chihuahua) with him I am so grateful. Toby, our first baby, gets some serious one on one time with Mike, and I have only three beasts to take care of here at home.

One of Mike's most recent trips was for the explicit purpose of an audition. The audition was at 3pm. It takes roughly 7 and a half hours to get to Vancouver. Afterward, he would turn around and drive back to Rossland. He wore his costume in the car and didn't think to bring a change of clothing. Why would he? The trip was there and back again in 16 hours.

One of the things we have most enjoyed about life here in Rossland is the lack of traffic. Life here is super chill despite Forbes Magazine repeatedly giving us a spot on their top ten ski resort list. In fact, an article was written about our sleepy little town, labelling us the most laid back ski town in North America. Oh, and the Lonely Planet warns visitors about our erratic jaywalkers. Like I said, there is no traffic.

Anyhoo, 7 hours and 25 minutes into Mike's Vancouver trip, he was stopped in traffic two blocks from the studio. Suddenly, Toby begins to panic. Like, PANIC! He runs in tiny panicky circles in Mike's lap, pausing only briefly to put his paws on the window ledge and peer longingly outside, then resuming this frantic cycle. Michael barely has time to process that all three pounds of dog is in the throes of a man sized emergency. He says, "Just a sec Tobes and I'll find a place to pull over". Apparently Michael's reassurance was too little too late, for it was then that Toby placed his paws on the window ledge once more and shat helplessly all down the front of the only outfit Mike had.

Gagging, he found an ever elusive parking spot, and he struggled to figure out how to make this shituation better all the while managing to not strangle Toby. Mike went straight for the washroom inside. He washed out as much as he could which left little time for his still rank clothing to dry. Now he was wet and smelled like poop. Upon entering the audition room he says to the director, "Now, I know what this looks like, but it isn't pee. It's shit...but it's not mine". What an ice breaker.

Somethings Gotta Give...

I have some fantastic news...wait for it...wait for it... I am officially enrolled in the Self-Employment Program here in Rossland (well, Greater Trail I guess)! Now I have kept fairly mum on this whole subject but with this latest development the cat is out of the bag. This is the news we have been waiting for!

Both my husband and myself have long dreamt of owning our own business, we just never knew what that was going to look like. Then just over six months ago, in the few days between putting an offer on a house here in town, but before listing/selling our Vancouver home, we decided to start a brewery in Rossland. Then we packed up our old life in Vancouver and began our new life here.

Here is how the idyllic dream looks: We (me funded through Community Futures and Michael as my unpaid man servant) establish Rossland's first brewery since prohibition put the Le Roi Brewery out of business at the turn of the century. Then we are on our own. We have a smallish store-front, on-site craft-brewing, retail and tasting room on Columbia (Main Street). Our little Company begins to support and sponsor all the fabulous events that the wonderful people of Rossland create, host and attend. Investors come out of the woodwork to throw money at such a fabulous idea enabling us to grow and prosper. We build an entirely green, zero waste, incredibly efficient brewery which truly reflects Rossland and our communal values. We even employ some local farmers to grow our hops which is mutually beneficial. The Brewery garnishes heaps of local support, and because it is easily one of the best beers anyone has tasted word spreads like wildfire and our Brewery becomes a tourist attraction as well. From there it is all up.

Currently I find myself writing, researching and developing a business plan under the tutelage of the Program. Michael is in Vancouver again this week, (hopefully he'll have and audition and book a another part before Christmas!) which means in addition to business planning I am the sole parent here for a week. YAY! Sarcasm, that was sarcasm. Which brings me to the point where I ask your understanding and allegiance. Please bear with me if I miss a day here and there over the next few months, keep coming back - I will not be going anywhere!

Thank you all so much for your love and support, for your readership and comments. Oh, and if you have a half million kicking around, I know just the place for you to invest it :)

Learning To Fly

This morning Jack came out of his room smiling from ear to ear. He had had a dream that he was Astro Boy. I am pretty sure that this was a direct result of his younger sister having declared she is Astro Boy and introducing herself as such. All day, everyday. Which is a change from when she decided a few months back that her name was Missy Pie. When we ask about "Missy Pie" she says that it is still her name but that she is now "Isla AstroBoy MissyPie..." "What about Meat-a-saurus" I ask. When Isla started solids we began to call her Meat-a-saurus at mealtimes because of her affinity for all things flesh. "Meat-a-saurus" she says pointing to her temple, "lives in my brain". I almost peed.

Now Jack is dreaming he is Astro, he hears about him a lot! I wondered if that meant he had dreamt his first flying dream. It hadn't. Too bad, I cannot wait to hear about these.  I used to dream so vividly and flying dreams were by far my favourite. I scarcely remember my dreams now, unless they are guilt-filled and at that point I would rather not since I have a hard enough time forgiving myself during the day. Anyhoo.

Jack had another first today though. A wonderful neighbour and friend passed along a bike to us. Now Jack has been riding a Strider for the past 6 months and he was ready to make the move. In less than 10 minutes he was up and riding! No training wheels or anything. His dad and I were pretty much elated! 15 minutes in he has mastered his new ride and tomorrow is his first bike race at the Rubberhead - we are in Rossland after all!

Olympic Sized Adventure - Part 2

Olympic Sized Adventure - Part Two: The Adventure becomes Legend.

Where was I? Oh yes, lineup one was winding towards the gate and we were about to head into lineup two for the Coca-Cola Pavilion. It was all downhill from there. As my girlfriend Chrissy and I rolled two strollers and 5 children into the breach once more Jack spilled his hot chocolate into his seat. All of it. Into the seat of a stroller with a cover that cannot be removed because the manufacturers maintain that its surface can be easily cleaned with a brush and a damp cloth, of which I had neither. Awesome. I have yet to remove these stains by the way and  it is not for a lack of trying. I digress.

Lineup two heads inside, finally, I thought. But no, we are herded into lineup three. This is when I discover Isla had silently, without affect, filled her seat with her hot chocolate. So now we are in very close quarters with hundreds of people and I am all, "Look on the bright side Alicia, at least you are not claustrophobic! Her back will be to the wall in the picture. I know it looks like she shat her pants but at least it doesn't smell! Think about the picture with the torch, Jack and Isla will tell their children about this day."

It was then one of them darted, I still can't remember who, half disappearing in to the multitudes and it all gets a little blurry. In this tiny room teeming with goodness knows who my MommaBear kicked in and I frantically grabbed for my child and fumbled my camera. This is the camera that Michael and I had gifted each other for our 5th wedding anniversary and this was by no means the first time it had been fumbled, but this was the day that it broke. Moments before I would use our too-expensive-to-replace-right-now camera to take once in a lifetime family heirloom photographs of my precious hot chocolate soaked children with the Olympic Torch. To say that my heart sank would be to downplay my sentiment enormously.

The meandering line pushed forward. Queue-mates proffered words of kindness and condolence, my face having told the tale, my wonderful friend said that she would be more than happy to take pictures of my kids too. Crestfallen I wandered on, into yet another room, then another still. Three hours in this day was feeling old and so was I.

This last room was where the coveted torch was kept. We ushered the kids into the appropriate lane (there were heaps of activities I had neither the energy nor the desire to take the kids to) and felt my heavy heart lift. Coke had provided professional photographers and individualized links to your picture online. Granted it would be flanked in advertising but I was stoked. Until, at the front of the line after HOURS of waiting, Miss Isla decided she was NOT, under any circumstances going to have her picture taken. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!!!

Jack had his taken. Then Mommy. Then Isla relinquished begrudgingly, but not without conditions!

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I just wanted to go home. I changed Isla (who was still in the throes of potty training) into the dry clothes I had brought, searched the grounds for something to sop up the now cold/congealing chocolate mess in the stroller and got ahold of my husband. He wasn't coming. Work was hectic and he wouldn't be able to get downtown before 5, which meant I still had as many hours to kill.  Awesome again.

Chrissy graciously offered to stay for lunch and so we squeezed our party of 7 into Subway. Then she (insert pang of jealousy here) took her tired babies home. I needed to get a birthday present so I walked from Gastown into downtown amid throngs of our cities guests all the way down Robson. My children had fallen asleep when I ran into Jack's godfather. I saw his camera and asked where he had been. The Cauldron. Great. I would take the kids when they woke and steal his photos, his would be better anyway! I told him about the adventure our day had been, and yet again in an attempt to be optimistic I spouted, "Well, at least she didn't pee, right?!"

Fast forward to the GAP. Browsing through the racks of clothing I can hear my precious cargo stirring in the stroller. I notice a puddle under Isla's seat. A trifecta of AWESOME!!! I am out of dry clothes so I buy her an uber cute pair of purple skinny jeans on sale. They in no way go with her outfit and I practically have to wrestle them onto her.

It is now 5 o'clock, we sit outside the Gap on Robson, leaning against the window, awaiting Michael's imminent arrival. Isla is digging the tunes. She has a sizing sticker half hanging off her cheek. It looks like a microphone. She dances, like no one is watching, hands on her hips, her recent skullet still shorn close, wearing her new jeans and a terribly mismatched olympic sweater, and begins to scoop at the air. Big grasping scoops as though she is wafting some unnoticed scent towards her torso, then over her face. It was hysterical and very much to the amusement of prolific amounts of tourists passing by. She honestly looked like a tiny crazy person and her innocence washed away the stress of the day.

I wish I could have taken a picture to share with you, but the latter half of this day will have to be passed down through the good old fashioned art of story telling alone.

Olympic Sized Adventure - Part 1

Both my husband and myself have had the pleasure of living in two Olympic host cities. In 1988 we were elementary school students in Calgary and in 2010 we were lucky enough to be living on the Left Coast when the opportunity came around again.

Like many Vancouverites we contemplated renting out our home to turn a tidy profit and take off somewhere, anywhere,  for the duration of the 2010 games. But I caught some sort of procrastination bug and so we stayed. Truth be told we were REALLY excited the closer February got, both for the kids and ourselves!

Despite the ill-timed arrival of the Pineapple Express, the kids and I braved a virtual squall to greet the torch as it ran by. We stood expectantly, brimming with pride and excitement, amid the masses for a moment that, although it came and went in the blink of an eye, has lingered with us. It was then I decided what I would really like was for the kids to have their picture taken with the torch. Yes, I thought, a picture with the torch would be epic.

The Vancouver Organizing Committee held a lottery for Olympic tickets and we were delighted to secure 4 reasonably priced tickets to Women's Hockey. The women slaughtered the other team and our little family had a blast. We were officially swept up in Olympic fever!

My desire to have a photo of my children was only fuelled by the fervour. We picked a day that Michael would head off to work early then meet us downtown (in the heart of Olympic mayhem) by 11am so that I would be able to get back on Skytrain with my enormous stroller. Ridership was up  by dizzying proportions during the Olympics, which was great, but commuting with two knee-highs really had become a two man job at this point.

Once Jack, Isla and myself made it to Gastown we met up with some great friends and headed to Starbucks for sustenance. I bought the kids their own reusable mugs, filled with hot chocolate, and we headed into the breach joining the first of 3 hour long lineups by 9am.

Everything was going swimmingly, I could practically see the pictures of my children's smiling faces proudly clutching the torch, but that was all about to change.

To Be Continued...

G. Michael

Michael has gone back to Vancouver again for two weeks in order to put food on the table. He is a worker that one - a fine combination of Italian workhorse, Scottish determination and Little House on the Prairie work ethic. He makes me proud.

In an earlier post I mentioned that in between dream jobs Mike works as a mover. Aside from owning a business with yours truly, Mike's other dream job is acting and he does it very well. He dons the more prestigious moniker G. Michael Gray and has quite the resume to show for himself.

G. Michael in the Feature 'Silk Trees'

In fact at the beginning of next week he will be adding to said resume as he tucks a Guest Star on 'Psych' under his belt. After a dry spell that felt as though it would never end this is very exciting news. I adore seeing Mr. Gray up there on screen - it never gets old, but then again he has never had to film a roll in the hay!

Baby Jack and his Poppa on 'Supernatural'.

It is awesome that moving here to Rossland has not meant the end of Mike's auditioning and acting for film and television. I guess the only real obstacle to the whole thing is when and how we will be able to watch the shows he is in given that we have successfully avoided resuming our cable tv subscription thus far!