Best of 2010

Here are some pretty cool things that happened in 2010.  

1.FACE A TOUGH DECISION

After a few months hiatus, begin working again for the newspaper in North Bay, doing research for their "Decade in Review" section. Am humbled when the Managing Editor tells me he's recommended me for a job at the daily newspaper in Timmins. Start to panic when I realize I have a tough decision to make.  

2. CRY IF I WANT TO 

Turn 27 years old. This one hits me hard. Although my good friend and sis make me a beautiful meal, complete with pink cupcakes, I act like a childish, selfish hosebag. Many apologies are made the next day after locking myself if my room because "no one even flirted with me on my birthday," which "MUST mean I'm OLD." Slowly come to the realization that even though I'm getting older every year, I'm also getting wiser. Vow to never cry on my birthday again.  

3.  FALL IN LOVE

Drive to Toronto with three girlfriends to see John Mayer perform on Valentines Day. Am convinced that even though there are 20,000 other screaming girls there, this is our (John and my) special date. Fall even deeper in love as he plays the guitar like nobody's business. Am convinced he's made eye contact with me. Three times. As we drive away from the city music blaring and laughter bouncing off the car walls, I look around at my friends and realize this is what life's all about.  

4.  MAKE A DECISION

After much deliberation and a pro/con list, I decide to accept the job back home at The Daily Press. Am now a reporter/photographer at a daily newspaper. One week in, I'm positive I've made the right decision. The job seems to fit like a glove. Although I miss my North Bay friends and work family, there are definite perks to this new position. Like the time I hand-feed an elephant jelly beans backstage at the circus. Or feel Margaret Trudeau's warm embrace as we pose for a photo after a speaking engagement. Or the day I FLY A PLANE. Career-wise, 2010's been the best year yet. Not just because of all the totally super fun things I get to do, but because of the feeling I get almost every day that THIS, RIGHT HERE, is what I'm supposed to be doing. Talking to people, hearing amazing stories, taking photographs, then going back to the office and writing about it. Releasing it into the world for everyone to discover. Amazing. 

5. WITNESS AMAZING LOVE IN FULL BLOOM 

The summer of 2010 turns out to be the Summer of Weddings. Attend three, in which I am directly involved, either as a musician, emcee, or guest book photographer. All three differ in style, from traditional church wedding, to beautiful park wedding, to glamorous wedding in the woods. All are equally beautiful. All make me weep uncontrollably. Am still convinced the saddest part of any wedding is when the father of the bride hands his daughter off to her new husband. Every single wedding is also filled with love. Tina and Louis, who now have a baby on the way, glow as they float around the dance floor. Melissa and Gilles, who can laugh their way through anything, kiss as though they're the only two people in the park. Alan and Kristie write the exact same thing in their speeches to each other, pledging to love each other with absolute conviction. Watching two people say their vows in the most gorgeous attire, then eating, drinking, celebrating into the wee hours of the morning? Yes, please! 

6. BECOME ONE WITH THE WILDERNESS  

By this I mean move back home to my Dad's place on a lake and occasionally go for a walk in the bush. I first moved into Pop's basement as a temporary situation while I looked for an apartment in Timmins. Ten months later, I'm still there, even though I know in the back of my mind one resolution should be "MOVE OUT." Dad's been amazing though, and I think that's partly why it's been hard to move. (That, and the FREE RENT.) He brushes my car off when it's snowy, has my dinner ready when I come home, flicks me with the tea towel when he feels I'm getting a little "uppity" (his word, not mine.) Although I know this year will likely hold a move for me, the wood stove heat still beats cranky landlords and overpriced electricity bills. And the view out my window in the morning, looking out over the lake while ducks swim leisurely by and birds chirp happily? That's not so bad either.  

7. UPON HEARING GOOD NEWS, CRY TEARS OF PURE JOY 

As 2010 progressed, my friends started to announce their various engagements, babies on the way, and new jobs. None affected me as much as Steph and Jamie's summer announcement though. I'd met the amazing couple when I first moved to North Bay, and liked them both instantly. Then, early last year, they decided they wanted to have a baby. Easier said than done. My heart broke a little every time someone would say "So...are you pregnant yet?" and I'd watch her paste a smile on and say sweetly "Nope. Not yet." In June, we were decorating the hall for a friend's wedding reception when she pulled me aside and said "So....you're going to be an Auntie." All of my excitement and happiness came pouring out of my freshly made-up eyes. I don't know if it's because I like them so darn much, or because I knew how much they wanted a baby, or both, but I was absolutely floored. To some people, this may not seem like such a biggie, but it was definitely one of my favourite 2010 moments. 

8. RECONNECT WITH FAMILY  

This year, there was a lot of quality family time. An Easter trip west to see my dad's brother. A Fall trip to Toronto to visit with cousins. Getting to know the new additions to our family, like curly-haired Leo and Zion, who've brought new energy and life to our clan. I've had heart-to-hearts with my Auntie, belted out karaoke with my cousins, watched another cousin fly a plane, hugged my granny, danced to Fleetwood Mac with my Aunt and cousins after several glasses of wine. All in all, a good year for the McLaren bunch.  

 

9. WATCH BABIES GROW WITH AMAZEMENT  

Just yesterday, when my four year-old goddaughter thought she hurt my feelings, she took my face in her hands and said "I still love you, Auntie Kate." When, I thought, did this tiny little baby grow enough to feel empathy, pick out her own clothes and recite her picture books by memory? And she wasn't the only one. We all celebrated recently when my niece Reesah blew her nose on command. Many first steps were taken this year. Although I know the basics of biology, it still shocks me how babies grow. Even though it's an inevitable part of life, to me, it's still a little magical.  

10. SUBMIT A SHORT STORY TO A NATIONAL LITERARY CONTEST  

I won't find out the results until February or March. So don't ask to read it. But, this was a big step for me in 2010. Even though I'm not sure if I'll win (there are over 4000 entries,) the biggest reward has already happened when my Dad read it, cried, and said "this deserves to be published."  

So there you have it. My year in a (very wordy) nutshell.  

In case you have trouble picture any of it, here's an accompanying video.  

Happy New Year. 

Best of 2010 from Kate McLaren on Vimeo.

Fever!

This post is about the Royal family.

I understand that the Royals, or maybe just some people's (*jabbing top of own head with index finger*) fascination with the haughty family often incites indifference, even anger. If you're one of those people, I suggest you leave now. Go Google something. Or see if there have been any Facebook updates in the last 3.5 minutes. Any of your buddies kids sick? Anyone tired because the wind howled all night and kept them awake? Someone find a lost kitty in I-need-a-life-ville? How many are complaining about the already-crowded malls and shoppers lack of Christmas spirit?

Wow...TANGENT!

Where were we? Oh right. ROYALS. So the news of the engagement between William and Kate hit the world a couple of weeks ago, and most people here in Canada responded with a collective "who CARES."

When my co-worker read me her People magazine, I tried my best to feign disinterest, said something like "oh, yeah? Cool," and kept typing. As soon as she headed for (the last brownie in) the vending machine, I ran (ok, walked quickly) to her desk and read the entire story.

What I'm about to say may disgust some of you. I like to think I'm a level headed, smart person. I know the Royal family are basically figure heads, and most Canadians don't give a rat's ass about the Charles/Camilla debacle or who Willy's marrying.

But I'm not most Canadians.

I have Royal Fever.

This fascination isn't entirely my fault. My Royal Fever was passed on by a mother who herself was struck by this condition. My mom, specifically, had Diana Fever.

This is going to sound super silly, but to me, there always seemed to be a little magic around both of those ladies (my mom and Diana.)

My mom always joked that the Princess' life mirrored hers. Although we all made fun, you can't really deny the similarities.

Diana grew up in a wealthy family in England, later moving to London to marry her prince. My mummy grew up in rural Southern Ontario, later moving North to marry her prince. (Sound like a stretch? That's cause it is.)

My parents were married in August, 1980. Diana and Charles were married in July 1981. As my mom watched the lavish ceremony on TV, my Grandma dismissively remarked "it's no nicer than yours was." She was 100 percent serious.

In June, 1982, Diana had her first baby, William. Eight months later, my mama was graced with my presence.

In September 1984, Diana had Harry. Almost a year later, my mom had Gilly.

Through Diana's life, my mom remained a devoted watcher. She cheered when the Princess danced with John Travolta. Called Charles and Camilla names when their affair hit the media (I remember "Horseface" in particular.)

In August, 1997, we were at the cottage when a news bulletin broke through Saturday Night Live, saying Diana had died in a car crash. I remember my mom being shocked, then sad.

"We have to watch the funeral," she said, eyes glued to the television.

"But it's on at 4 a.m. here," I whined.

"So we'll sleep on the pull out couch and set the alarm."

And we did. I remember the princes walking behind the casket, looking heartbroken. Diana's brother giving the eulogy about the "Queen of People's Hearts." Elton John's tribute. A Royal funeral with a twist.

Six months later, the pattern followed in an unexpected and tragic way. When my mom died, I remember thinking of Prince William. How I could now relate to him. Understood how he felt. This may sound beyond crazy to you non-Royal-lovers, but I thought "I wonder if they have met yet."

On a class trip to Paris a couple of years later, we drove through the tunnel where Diana was killed. As most students glanced out the window briefly, I was transfixed. I felt a connection, brought on by years of Royal Fever.

The recent announcement brought back these memories. Making fun of my mom for her Diana obsession. Laughing at her crazy parallel life theory (I do realize it's really not that parallel.) Lying on the pull-out couch at 4 a.m., secretly happy for the alone time with my mummy.

I heard on the radio that William gave Kate his mom's engagement ring so she could "be part of the excitement." Although our lives are worlds apart, I get it. And although, for the most part, I don't identify with any part of Royal life, my heart warmed when I heard that newscast.

See, the Royal Fever's hard to shake. Along with the memories of my mama. So go ahead and make fun of me for my silly Royal interest.

Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Holiday in the Fall

This fall, I took almost two weeks of vacation.

A few people asked me if I was going somewhere hot. No, I'd reply, just planning on sticking around here. 

I stayed in Ontario, and although the air was crisp and chilly, my holiday was warm and cozy. Many hundreds of miles were covered as I traveled South, then North, then South again to make sure I got the most amount of lovin' I possibly could. 

Between family and friends, I had the absolute best time. Here's a recap. 

NOTE: I know my nephew Leo's basically the star of this video but just look at those cheeks! Look at those curls! And that smile! How could I resist? 

My Fall from Kate McLaren on Vimeo.

Soundtrack is Lovers in Japan by Coldplay

Reminder

Last Thursday, 7 p.m. I'm driving home after a long day in the newsroom. I'm exhausted, frustrated. My eyes are fighting to stay open and I'm kind of dreading the hour-long drive ahead of me.

I drive along the highway, thinking about what I'm doing. What direction I'm headed in. What the next week, month, year holds for me.

The sky glows mellow orange in my rearview mirror. As always, the Fall season has made me nostalgic and pensive. Thinking of the past, I take a deep breath.

Up ahead, I notice two cars stopped on the side of the road. As I get closer, I see a man taking photos of something I can't see yet.

I slow down, brake, and turn to look at the roadside attraction.

Standing in a clearing among the cattails is the most regal looking bull moose I've ever seen. Just as I pull off to the side of the highway, he looks up, his massive rack throwing his head slightly off balance.

This moose is healthy, strong. His coat is black, shiny, beautiful. He doesn't run or even turn away when more cars begin to stop. He seems to enjoy this paparazzi-like attention.

My Dad always said moose were good luck. A sign that everything's going to be ok. I remember him telling the story about the night I was born.

It was a cold night in February, and I was refusing to make my grand entrance into the world. Which, looking back now shouldn't have surprised anyone because hello? Have you TRIED getting me out of bed in the morning before I'm ready? I like warm and dark and cozy places.

Anyway, being the drama queen I am, my mom was rushed to the hospital an hour away to have me. My dad flew along the highway to Timmins (to this day he swears he beat the ambulance), nervous and anxious about the arrival of his first daughter. When he tells the story of my birthday, he never leaves out the part about the moose. Racing down the highway in the dark on that winter night 27 years ago, Dad saw, like I did last week, a big, beautiful bull.

"I knew then that everything was going to be ok," he says, a faraway look in his eyes.

First Nations people believe moose are a sign of hope.

I remember my cousin telling me about her granny's last moments. After her husband died a few years earlier, her family said goodbye as she slipped away. Leaving the hospital, my family saw a bull and cow moose standing together in the early morning light. This confirmed for them that their Granny and Grandpa were together once again.

Seeing that moose on the side of the road the other night served as a confirmation for me too. A reminder that life, despite all it's complications, darkness, and pain...is truly beautiful.

Something old

Why is old stuff always so pretty?

Ok, I guess there are exceptions to this rule, like old man asses, and whatever it is I found while cleaning out the fridge the other day. That was not so much pretty as it was disgusting.

Last weekend for work, I covered an event that took people through the city's local history. One of the stations was a 1930's replica of a miner's house, set up to look like there was a family living there. If I wasn't such a moral, law-abiding citizen I would have been tempted to swipe some of the beautiful, timeless, classic pieces in the house.  

 Instead, I borrowed them in photographs. 

If this is what they call timeless beauty, I don't mind getting old.

Over-qualified

After dinner, I'm doing the dishes and Pop's in his room. I can hear him fidgeting with something and swearing under his breath.

I glance into his room out of the corner of my eye and realize he's trying to re-set his alarm clock. The electric one always gives him trouble.

He keeps fumbling for a few minutes, then drops the plastic alarm clock on his foot. He swears.

A few more seconds of trying on his own, and he yells "KATE! What the hell am I doing wrong here!?"

I dry my hands and walk over, pick up the alarm, set the time. Dad walks into the kitchen and yells "IT'S 9:18!"

"Done!" I say, returning to the kitchen. Dad seems baffled.

"You're done? Already? Whoa! You're good! Wow! Good job!"

You should see how crazy he gets when I change the message on the answering machine.

Do you see why I still live here? Great to feel appreciated.

Chatterbox

My dad's a putterer.  

It's not often you'll catch him watching t.v. or sitting around. Even more so now with his new digs - he's always doing something around the house.  
Along with his new place on the lake, he also owns land about five minutes away, which he calls 'The Farm.' The Farm's the place he goes when he needs peace and quiet, and he spends days there gardening and building things. 
I'm not home a lot, but often I'll come home from work and find a few flower bed or piece of deck has been added to the yard. At The Farm, Dad built bridges, dug ponds, constructed cabins from the ground up. 

One night last week, I found myself home from work earlier than usual. After dinner, Pop said he was going to The Farm to cover his onions. 
"I'm gonna come too," I said, pulling on my rubber boots. Was it just my imagination, or did he wince slightly when I suggested I tag along?  
I brought my camera in case we saw a bear. Dad's seen tons this year on his property, and a couple of summers ago even had to chase one out of the back of his truck. 

Instead of taking pictures of bears, I ended up taking video of us chatting. Well, me chatting. It was only when I played it back afterward that I realized how irritating I was. 

How he didn't backhand me, toss my camera out the window, and tape my mouth shut is beyond me. I guess it's this thing called 'patience' that has developed after listening to me talk non-stop for 27 years. 


Here's a little excerpt from our evening trip to cover the onions. I had to add subtitles, because Pop mumbles. Also, don't be alarmed by the gagging noises - just a bad case of the hiccups. 


Try to resist the urge to reach into your computer and strangle me. 
I, for one, had a ball. 


Evening bear watch from Kate McLaren on Vimeo.