For the past 7 years I’ve had the opportunity to work and hone one of my skills on the island, as a support worker, specifically for GIFTS (the Gulf Island Families Together Society), working one to one with young adults who have special needs.
One of GIFTS’ mandates, is to help young adults who have recently graduated from high school integrate into their community. One approach towards this goal, is to support these young adults in finding work.
About 8 months ago, I started working with a young adult fresh out of high school and began the task of looking for suitable employment on the island. I knew of John Quesnel and the plight of his Salt Spring scrap Metal Recycling business (who doesn’t if you read the local paper), and thinking myself that recycling in any form is not only good business, but makes good sense, especially on an island, I decided to ask john if we might be able to volunteer some time at his facility, to gain some work experience and see if this might be a good fit for the young adult in question.
I must admit, I partly had a secret agenda of my own in all of this.
I’ve always been shall we say ‘a collector of stuff.’ And being this close to a lot of stuff that people are simply “throwing away,” and being first on the scene to possibly scoop up and save some special cast away treasure from obscurity, is always a great thrill for someone with my particular interests. Spend anytime at the Blackburn Mall (which I have also been fortunate to do as part of my work), and you will see that I am far from alone in this pirate’s adventure. Nevertheless, I knew there was a lot to learn in this metal fantasy wasteland, for me and the young adult who I was working with.
Fast forward 6 months of working two, three hour days/week, rain or shine, and we have both learned much.
There is much to learn. But what I did not anticipate in this “fantasy job” was how impressed I would be with what john does with his little recycling facility, and how much he continues to do each and every week.
What working in this facility has provided me with, is a fly on the wall perspective of a business which is for the vast majority of us; a dark secret, a place of innuendo, a questionable character, all of which we really know nothing, if little about.
What I have acquired, from this point of priviledge each week, is witness to our island’s really dirty secret. The seemingly endless supply of discarded; cars, vans, campers, dishwashers, stoves, hot water tanks, propane tanks, computers, pvrs, dvd players, aluminum siding, electrical wiring, exercise equipment, long discarded farming equipment, etc., etc., etc., much of which is picked up for free from various ‘environmentally sensitive dumping grounds’ on our island of paradise and brought by john or Heath (John’s only full time staff), to the facility for recycling.
What I have also been witness to, is the care in which much of this material is treated while on premises. Every single discarded vehicle is; drained of it’s gasoline, oil and brake fluid, removed of it’s rims, tires, battery, catalytic converter, and mercury switches, all of which is then independently recycled. In addition, all of the metal that comes in to this facility is sorted into its appropriate category, whether it is; copper, aluminum, zinc, lead, or other non-ferrous materials, which is all eventually carted off the island by John or Heath for further processing.
What I was aware of before I started working here, is how much controversy this little business has elicited. I also knew, that John is one of those few dying breeds, a native Salt Springer, one of a small percentage of kids who has stayed behind to work and raise a family in the place that he was born and raised.
What I didn’t know is how much work John does. Not only does he attempt to keep abreast of all the latest recycling technologies, but he is continually upgrading his own little facility.
In the short time I’ve been there (while continually fighting the right to carry on a family business), he has; consulted and had a walk around the property with an eco-business consultant in order to create an environmental management plan for the site, had a sound engineer estimate the sound levels and frequencies that his business currently generates, replaced soil & gravel work areas with impervious concrete, installed a water collection run off system to separate run off oil from water, and is in the midst of installing a septic treatment field with a sand filtration system. All towards the aim of environmentally upgrading his facility and keeping his neighbours happy.
What I also have gleaned, from this humble guy who happens to be the vice president of our local Chamber of Commerce, is that as an activist and concerned citizen, he has taken on, not only BC Hydro, but the Islands Trust on many fronts; including; breaking the news to fellow islanders regarding the ramifications of implementing RAR (Raparian Area Regulation), taking a local Chamber of Commerce delegation to the Island Trust council on budget expenditures (specifically regarding the doubling of Trustee renumerations), and instigating and ultimately establishing the right to video tape Local Trust Commitee (LTC) meetings, making the meetings accessible to anyone with an internet connection, all while developing an organic farm on his own homestead.
Even more importantly, what I have learned from both John and Heath, is what it would look like, should this little facility cease to exist on our little chunk o’paradise. Firstly, what it would mean, is paying for multiple trucks on and off the island every day, carting off the junk that John and Heath now go around the island collecting for free. Since the on island recycling facility allows for compacting the metal into large storage bins, trucking the material (an estimated 50,000 lbs of scrap metal weekly), is condensed into one trip per week, as opposed to an estimated three times per day! Think of the added ferry congestion alone, with an additional three flatbed trucks per day on and off the island, not to mention the added fuel costs. And you can be quite certain, that an off island company would not be picking up those additional ferry costs, not to mention picking up your junk for free.
So, if for reasons of inadequate industrial zoning (which by the way, john has already spent his own time and energy working on a industrial rezoning plan), this recycling facility be deemed to be in the wrong vicinity, then we as a community should be doing everything we can to find the right place for this facility, so that it can continue to carry on, and improve upon, an already established and much needed island service (Does this sound vaguely familiar? Think Salt Spring Roasting Company).
As for you NIMBY naysayers who don’t want such a business on our little idyllic island, next time one of your trade’s person fills up his or her half ton with your scrap metal junk, or you happen to see the Salt Spring Metal Recycling flatbed strapped down and filled to the brim with relics from our technological past, follow them and see where they go. Take a little trip down Rainbow Road, and see what exactly Salt Spring scrap Metal recycling facility is doing with your unwanted stuff. You might be pleasantly surprised. You may even learn something. I know we are.
Check out www.saltspringmetalrecycling.com for further information on Salt Spring Metal Recycling.
This story was submitted by Brian Nash ( cinemat) on May 10 and republished here as a featured local story May 11.

Singer/songwriter Tara moved to Salt Spring with her family recently, after many years touring and performing, to raise her young family.  She wrote a song called Where Am I and performed it at the Folk Club this past winter. Prompted by the great feedback she received about it, she recorded it and made this video with the help of local artists. She released it this week online.

The lyrics strike a chord with Moms – and people are sharing it widely. In just two days it has reached almost 3,000 views on You Tube.  I wanted to share this here with everyone as it is particularly meaningful as Mother’s Day is upon us this weekend.

Click this link to go to You Tube and watch the video:

http://youtu.be/_n8Xo93HKKM

As a songwriter myself, I could never quite express these exact sentiments I felt when my kids were little, in a way that worked in song. Tara has captured it so well.  Beautiful song writing!

Best wishes to Tara for the success of this song. If you enjoy it, please consider sharing the link with others!

And Happy Mothers Day to all! Where would we be without our Moms?

Salt Spring Island Grandmothers to Grandmothers scrabble fundraiser in support of the Stephen Lewis Foundation. Come out and play. Click here to download the sponsorship form to collect pledges for your play.

Fun video going around about Sh*t Salt Springers say in keeping with the ongoing internet meme. Do you say these things?

Maggie Schubart was an exceptional activist who made immeasurable contributions to our island and world. Maggie passed away in 2010, yet her legacy of community involvement and gentle leadership continues to inspire.

In November 2006, I had the pleasure of interviewing Maggie in her home, in the aftermath of a major snow storm. Maggie had made a big pot of stew; we drank tea and chatted in her kitchen. Maggie and I had worked together on food security efforts and she had generously agreed to be part of my Master’s thesis research on learning in social movements.

Maggie and her husband Hank, the esteemed architect, and their five boys moved to Salt Spring from California in 1968, during the Vietnam War. Her social change work had began years earlier when she helped establish Bay area KPFA radio station that became a force for change.

In San Francisco, both she and Hank were active in the civil rights movement and anti Vietnam War efforts. Maggie said, “Yes, I was involved in the civil rights movement because…because of what it was. The reason we bought our card table was so we could set it up out in front of St Dominique’s church on Sunday and register dark voters. And I spent a day a week at a place called Freedom House trying to facilitate solutions to individual problems people would bring. We were thoroughly involved in the civil right movement. At the same time we were involved in the anti-Vietnam war movement and part of that was pointing out to African Americans that they were disproportionally taken in the draft and died abroad.”

On Salt Spring, Maggie and Hank were very involved citizens, working to promote peace and arts and culture. Maggie joined the national Voice of Women and gave gifts of membership to others. That emerging group sparked the formation of the Salt Spring disarmament group which spearheaded a nationwide petition.

Maggie remembers “Salt Spring was declared a nuclear free zone. Art and Lou Rumsby escorted the petition to all these communities and got people to sign against nuclear testing and eventually presented it, at the time our representative was Jim Manley, he was a convinced peacenik. No concrete results emerged but I always think, even though you can’t see results immediately somewhere along the line, some little button was pressed or something clicked, no effort is wasted.”

During the nuclear free zone campaign, they devised a clever tactic to piggyback an informal citizen’s vote onto a federal election. The organizers set up unauthorized polling stations on voting day, in the same location as the federal voting stations. They were completely open to the voters that their poll creating a nuclear free zone wasn’t official and the results were impressive.
Maggie recalled, “(Results were) about 92% here and on other islands a bit more. I sent telegrams to Trudeau and Uri Andropov and whoever was president of the United States at the time, saying we have voted such and such to be nuclear free and of course, they didn’t answer but we felt better about it.”

Maggie and Hank invested in their beliefs. They opened the Crossroads store which carried third world goods, endeavouring to raise people’s consciousness. In another example of putting your money where your values are, they bought a house in Nanoose Bay with sight lines to the submarine testing bases. Protesters and activists used the house for campaign headquarters.

Maggie stressed that change happens often through arts and culture, rather than lectures and protest. “Being in anti-war marches in the 60’s and 70’s and having Country Joe and Fish sing right alongside us gave an emotional boost and had a clarifying effect for some reason. It helped me to formulate my older ideas about how important culture is and how much more effective it is than lecturing or presentations.”

Two local groups that Maggie championed, Peaceworks and Salt Springers for Safe Food, created community celebrations to encourage more of what they wanted. In Maggie’s words, “To me, especially music and certainly drama and to some extent painting, all the arts in any kind of cultural context, I think are more meaningful because it is indirect but the recipient person is the one really having the experience and I think its more incorporated into their consciousness.”

Maggie cautioned not to be too susceptible to all the negative news in the media, “When I meet people who are immersed in that kind of thing, I make a real effort to show them there are other ways of looking at things. The whole world isn’t North America and they will feel a lot better of they get involved and the best thing to do is to take matters into your own hands and no matter what you work on its all valuable.”

Maggie shared her wisdom, if asked. One technique she suggested for events was to have admission by donation, and then trust the money you need will appear. While nerve-wracking to not know what your revenue will be, I have found this technique to be effective as those that can pay are often generous and the people that can’t will contribute in other ways. Social change requires both passion and dollars and lack of money shouldn’t be a barrier.

Maggie was involved with multiple social change efforts over the years, including local affordable housing, food security, peace campaigns and the film festival. Many groups held their meetings around Maggie’s kitchen table and numerous activists have benefited from her involvement and encouragement. Like many, I was inspired by Maggie and am grateful for her mentorship. As the saying goes, we stand on the shoulders of giants and Maggie is a giant.

Ellie Langford Parks is a social justice adult educator, community development professional and music manager. Most recently she’s an instructor in UVIC’s Masters of Arts in Community Development program, and manager for the Helping the Helper series: Leadership development for non profit leaders. 

Ellie is inspired and intrigued by those who act to improve the world. The Creating Change series honours activists and active citizens. Contact Ellie with your profile suggestions at eparks@telus.net

She confesses to an addiction to adventure.  She acknowledges that she often doesn’t appreciate the consequences of her spontaneous decisions.  And she is currently off on another escapade—this time sailing via California to Mexico for six months. She’s leased her house for 18 months and has no idea where she’ll live when she gets back from Mexico.  But she’s confident that things will fall into place – “somehow, they always do.”

Suzanne Ambers, counsellor, massage therapist, spa consultant, and self-described gypsy, is always up for something different, particularly if it involves travel to new places.  And the sea.

Suzanne Ambers

“Every day unfolds differently,” she says. “”I’ve lived out of a suitcase all over the world. I raised two sons in a float home and I was plunked down by the universe on Salt Spring, somewhere I never imagined I would live.”

Open to opportunity, some would say. But for Suzanne, it’s more like heeding your heart, or maybe listening to the psychic friend who tells you that “you won’t grow anymore if you don’t pursue your interests elsewhere.”

Suzanne’s desire to grow and roam the universe began in Alert Bay on Cormorant Island – a remote chunk of rock and trees on the northern edge of Vancouver Island’s inside passage.  Alert Bay’s population of just over 1,000 clusters on the sheltered southern side of the island, in the middle of a wild, ocean-lashed, wind-swept and incredibly beautiful place.  About half the population are Namgis, a First Nations band within the Kwakwaka’wakw nation, and the village boasts the tallest totem pole in the world and is home to the killer whale. A renowned place to visit in summer for eco-tourism and First Nations art, it is also a very demanding place to live year round.

When Suzanne decided on post-secondary education, she chose a place completely opposite to Alert Bay – London, Ontario – far from the ocean and the mountains, where the natural form of the countryside had been subdued into tidy-looking, prosperous farms.  She finished at the University of Western Ontario and returned to her birthplace, to counsel and teach street kids, many of them victims of abuse, in an alternative class in the local school.

She married into the Kwakiutl band, another tribe within the Kwakwaka’wakw nation. “I learned the language (Kwak’wala), attended potlatches and immersed myself in the history and strong culture of the nation,” she explains. In taking her husband’s name, Ambers, she became associated with a sad part of that history – up until the 1950s, her husband’s family name had been Umbus, before Indian agents changed First Nation names to be more like white names.

Suzanne and son Chris

When she left Alert Bay for a second time, she didn’t travel so far and she didn’t leave the sea.  She ended up in Victoria, raising two sons on her own– Chris and Kelly Thody – on a float home.  Unsurprisingly, both her sons chose careers related to the ocean, and Suzanne first came to Salt Spring to visit Chris who was teaching sailing here.

The island proved to be something of a surprise. “Salt Spring seemed so gentrified compared to the life and death issues that are faced daily in Alert Bay. Life there was always on the edge,” she notes, “while here, it seemed almost like a fairy tale and so blissful.”

So blissful, in fact, she decided that living full time on the island would prove ‘boring.”  But as she explored while her son was at work, she came across Vesuvius and was struck by both its beauty and the warmth of the people she met there. And then she spotted a house she couldn’t resist.

“I fell in love with it and rented it immediately,” she says, still amazed at her impulsivity. “After, I asked myself what I’d done, because I already owned a home in Victoria.”  But, as she was beginning to realize, often things just take care of themselves – a very few days after she’d committed to Salt Spring, a man turned up completely unexpectedly and asked to rent her float house.

After 20 years in education, Suzanne decided to pursue a different career. She enrolled in an evening massage course and began filling her days with practical training.  She became so passionate about what she was learning that she put in many overtime hours and completed the course in record time.

But there was more to learn.  After she gave her very first massage in her newly established home business, the client asked how much she should pay.  Suzanne had no idea what to charge and besides, bartering was then common on the island. “I wasn’t sure how to barter, but knew I needed to live and eat. So I suggested we work out some trade that would benefit each of us.” The client was not impressed.  “She wagged her finger, pointed out that I had given her an excellent treatment and insisted I deserved payment.”

“You aren’t acknowledging your worth and if you don’t do that you will go out of business,” Suzanne recalls her saying.  “I earned $55 for that first massage but the lesson I learned was the equivalent of four years of university. I finally had worth.”

Suzanne’s business began to prosper, and she was asked to run a bed and breakfast atop Mount Belcher. Over the next six years, her meditation and massage retreats became increasingly popular.  Ahead of her time, she envisioned a hospital spa at a Bullock Lake resort, “This would have been a first, cutting edge, a unique healing spa,” she says, “but the lodge burned down.”

Despite this setback, other avenues started to open up.  Her passion for massage had broadened to other areas. She undertook advanced training in esthetics and began teaching for Aveda. Her list of certifications began to grow: cranial sacral therapy, reflexology, herbology, Thai massage, stone therapy and visceral massage.  She also studied water therapies and became a Reiki Master.

As her expertise grew, she started making training trips, which indulged her taste for international travel and adventure.  “I travelled solo around the world while living out of a suitcase,” she explains. “Every trip, every class I taught were adventures. I visited New Zealand, Asia, and South America.  A trip to Fiji was particularly exciting, because I crewed on a boat. I am a gypsy at heart.  I always want to visit new places and learn new things.”

Harking back to her Alert Bay roots, much of her enthusiasm is inspired by ancient therapies.  It was her belief in the curing powers of water and spa medicine that led her to private spa consultation.  Work with BBA Designs, a Vancouver firm specializing in luxury residential interiors and spa design soon followed. Designing and naming the world-class Ancient Cedars sanctuary at Wickaninnish Inn in Tofino was an early project, followed by the Susurrus Spa at Poets Cove on Pender Island.

Suzanne and Art

Throughout her adventures Suzanne’s passion for the water has never diminished. She strolled waters’ edges wherever she went, and back on Salt Spring, she bought a boat.  She joined the sailing club and races on Sundays.  And, for the next six months she and her partner of five years – Art Munekke – will explore Mexico by boat – another spontaneous decision.

“One night we discussed the idea and the next day we began making plans,” she exclaims. “ I jumped to this adventure as I typically do, often neglecting to consider the consequences. The thrill of something new always wins out.”

She’s counting on things continuing to fall into place whenever she returns. “I am fortunate to have people in my life who tolerate my lifestyle,” she emphasizes.  “I love my work and my clients are dedicated. They will be on Salt Spring when I come back.”

And when she does, she will rejoin the Vesuvius walking group on their one-hour uphill hikes. She will continue sailing, relaxing at yoga, swimming, watching the sunset and will search for another new challenge.

Suzanne, at 65, is more interested in “beginning to give back” than retirement.  She stresses the need to be compassionate to those in need, and adds, “If you’ve been there, you’re more apt to help.”  Her aspirations focus on volunteering at a hospital and working with children confined to bed or in casts.

Where will this adventure be? “Salt Spring or maybe Mexico,” she says. “My life is unfolding beautifully, but the next stage is unknown.”

Pat Preston is a former journalist, journalism instructor and public affairs executive. She has worked and lived in several cities in Canada and the United States. She and her husband, John Tylee, moved to Salt Spring in April 2011. She is currently a freelance writer, a Board member of the Salt Spring Arts Council and an advisory committee member of the Salt Spring Forum. Contact Pat with your story ideas at saltspringstories@gmail.com.

Tomorrow we remember.

Last week we ran a survey asking residents of Salt Spring if they considered themselves to be *mostly* introverted or extroverted. The results are bit a surprising. Our survey closed automatically when we hit 100 responses and of those 100 responses, 79 people identified themselves as *mostly* introverted.

Speaking with a colleague via email about this who has a background in Jungian psychology, he shared that in general it is understood that about 40% of the population identify as introverts and that the dominant culture, at least in North America, is extrovertedly oriented.

Is it possible that 79% of islanders are mostly introverted at double the average in North America? Is this just another thing that makes Salt Spring special? Should we have gone out and surveyed at a party where all the extroverts are? Should we become the destination for introverts everywhere, or do we need to import some more extroverts to balance this place out?

Spooky Halloween night on Maliview.

Salt Spring’s Halloween Hamster had a little story done on her last night on Cheknews. See the video’s below…

I’m conducting a highly un-scientific poll on a subject I’ve been curious about regarding the dominant nature of island residents. I’ve been wondering if those who are attracted to living on Salt Spring have a stronger tendency towards introversion or extroversion? In the way I understand this, I would think of introverted people as those who get their energy from spending time alone to recharge and restore themselves, while extroverts would get their energy and relax by being with others in more social settings. There is much more to these labels, but let’s find out. What would you say is the dominant nature of Salt Springers?

Ganges Village history by Peter Prince.

Website: www.peterprince.com
FaceBook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001725425369
Documentary Videos: http://www.youtube.com/saltspringvideo
Music Videos: http://www.youtube.com/user/dzongbird

She was ready for one more adventure. He wasn’t so certain.

They had, after all, lived comfortably in Calgary for 29 years.  Neither had any inclination to move.  Yet, one morning as she looked out her window at her flourishing and beautiful garden, Liesbeth Leatherbarrow had an epiphany.

“I have always planned on living until 100,” she said. “I loved all that I saw that morning, but the thought of looking at and walking up the same path for the next 45 years struck me as limiting. Everything looked beautiful but I knew in that moment I was ready for one more adventure.”

Her husband of 33 years found her epiphany intriguing but, being a cautious and deliberative man, Bob Leatherbarrow needed time to mull over the idea and do some research.

“I was confident, but Bob had to think,” Liesbeth points out. “It sounded to him like a spontaneous, romantic idea.

In 2007, Bob began checking out various locales—from Provence in France to Nova Scotia, Cowichan, Maple Bay—to see whether any would suit their needs.  There were a few criteria to be met before any decision could be made.

It had to be an amazing place and a garden was a must.  Bob was an established artist working for more than 20 years with kiln-formed glass. His workshops were oversubscribed with eager glass artists from across North America and he was a frequent instructor at national and international workshops. So a studio in a good destination for workshop clients was a must.

And Liesbeth (a Dutch derivation so don’t pronounce the ‘h’) was an avid and respected gardener, having co-authored five gardening books.  She was also writing for a variety of publications and busy as an editor for a publishing company, designing books and handling book publicity. And then there was the quilting she’d been doing for 20 years.

Both Liesbeth and Bob agree there was no reason to leave Calgary. “We loved the city,” Bob says with a smile. “And our lives were full and rewarding.” But then a confluence of circumstances occurred.

In 2005, Bob, a geologist, on the receiving end of a ‘golden handshake’ from his employer continued as a consultant for the next three years as house prices began to climb in Calgary. Daughter Kate, a marine biologist, had relocated to Victoria.  And then there were their island friends and “the house.”

Vic and Lesley Reynolds were close friends who had moved from Calgary to Salt Spring in 2001. The Leatherbarrows visited often found themselves on the
receiving end of some “friendly bludgeoning.”  “They handed us a copy of the booklet with Salt Spring real estate listings as we boarded the ferry after one of our island visits,” Bob quips.  Liesbeth questions his choice of words but agrees the Reynolds were instrumental in their decision to choose Salt Spring as the place to begin their final adventure.

The Leatherbarrows didn’t need to read the listings. They already knew where they wanted to live. “We had visited the island many times and we always drove by one house that we admired and loved from the outside,” explains Bob.

“We began calling it ‘our house,’ always saying that if we ever moved to Salt Spring that would be the place we would choose to call home,” adds Liesbeth. “Initially, we believed Salt Spring wasn’t an option or even a possibility.  I was always a big city girl.” Both, in fact, were born in large cities—he in Montreal and she in Ottawa.

On every visit, they passed a property on Vesuvius Bay Road.  And, on each drive-by, they gazed more longingly at the house and surrounding garden. “We began to call it our home,” explains Liesbeth.

Then, be it synchronicity or alignment of the stars, things began to happen.  Liesbeth was planning a visit to Salt Spring while Bob was teaching in Texas. Four days prior to her leaving, she learned ‘their house’ was on the market.

“I immediately checked it out on the internet,” she recalls. “I loved it. It was everything we wanted. But I still wondered whether I could live on an island.”

She arrived on Salt Spring in February 2008, toured the property, called Bob and quickly went about making an offer. But someone else had the same idea.

“I knew I had to act fast,” she says. “Bob and I have always made decisions together but he was miles away. So I made the offer conditional on Bob’s liking the house.  I was sure I’d be happy but he needed to be equally comfortable. This was life changing.”

The sellers chose the Leatherbarrows’ offer because their purchase of the house had been made under similar circumstances. The studio, built in 1992, had been used to house and sell artists’ prints and was perfect.  Now renovated, it is Bob’s studio, light and airy with pieces of his colourful kiln-formed glass bowls and sculptures interspersed throughout.

Liesbeth returned to Calgary and the couple put their Alberta home on the market. It sold quickly and five months later in July, they were calling Salt Spring home. And the Reynolds were the first to greet and welcome them.

Bob’s grin is wide when he talks about the move. “The island is an amazing contrast after Calgary where the environment was not overly supportive of artists,” he says, leaning back expansively on a sofa in the home they deemed theirs before buying it.  “Here we are surrounded by artists and the creative spirit is held in high esteem. Everyone, it seems, is connected in some way to the arts.”

“It was an impulsive, spontaneous move,” adds Liesbeth. “We came, we were bitten by the island’s beauty and ambiance and we were, and still are, smitten.” They each struggle for the words to describe the island’s magic. But they feel it each time they return. “We happily board the ferry and, during the half hour ride from Swartz Bay we breathe the salt air, gaze at the water and any fears we had about moving to an island disappear,” Liesbeth says as Bob nods in agreement.

Glass Bowls by Bob Leatherbarrow

 Both have fully embraced island life. Bob continues developing unique textures and colour palettes using glass powders. (www.leatherbarrow.ca.) He’s currently writing and editing The Powder Palette, an artists’ catalogue to showcase his talent. And he is a volunteer director of the Salt Spring Arts Council (www.ssartscouncil.com). He continues teaching around the world, most recently in Australia. In March, 2012, two of his works will be featured in the Museum of Northwestern Art show in La Conner, WA.

Liesbeth manages her husband’s business and is still active in the publishing industry with Heritage House. She also continues her quilting with local quilters and she chairs the SSAC committee developing an arts school on the island. Her passion for gardening continues, evidence of which surrounds their Vesuvius home.

“We work as a team, supporting each other in old and new endeavours.” Despite their personality differences—Bob is a long-term planner, outgoing and logical in his approach to work and decisions, whereas Liesbeth is spontaneous, risk taking and less outgoing—they describe themselves as “exceptionally compatible.”  His six-foot-five inch frame towers above her (she’s 5’4”) but height aside, these four-year island residents fully compliment each other. Liesbeth says, “It’s good to be reigned in at times.” Bob adds,  “Being taken out of my comfort zone is useful, too. It may take a while for me to engage in new things and places but adjusting to Salt Spring came very easily.”

For this couple that “one more adventure” is now reality.

Pat Preston is a former journalist, journalism instructor and public affairs executive. She has worked and lived in several cities in Canada and the United States. She and her husband, John Tylee, moved to Salt Spring in April 2011. She is now a Board member of the Salt Spring Arts Council and an advisory committee member of the Salt Spring Forum. Contact Pat with your story ideas at saltspringstories@gmail. 

Everyone we told said we were crazy. Giving up our fabulous condo in Yaletown, leaving the myriad of amenities offered by Canada’s greenest city, starting again on a tiny island whose population barely equaled that of one Vancouver neighbourhood.

“Why?” they asked. “You are urbanites. You love vibrant, bustling downtowns.”

And they were right, sort of. My husband and I had always lived in urban centres, some smaller than others, but always in the midst of the action. And we’d always loved the hustle bustle of cities.

I’d grown up in Toronto, received my journalism degree in the heart of the city before leaving for Calgary as a young reporter at the Calgary Herald. My career in journalism (teaching and writing) took me to other large cities: Edmonton (to write radio ad copy), Ottawa (to edit a church publication), back to Calgary (to teach journalism), Vancouver (as a journalism instructor), Wilmington, DE (as a communications executive) and a stint in Sarasota, FL where I wrote for a monthly magazine.

Although my husband was born in Ireland, he grew up attending a boarding school in rural Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). His attachment to cities began when he enrolled in Exeter University in England. As a curious young man he travelled throughout Europe visiting its major cities. He emigrated to Canada for graduate studies in Toronto where he stayed for more than 20 years as an economist and statistician in the Ontario government.

Our first smaller city was Wilmington, Delaware after I was transferred there from Toronto with my employer, an international pharmaceutical company. Population: 70,000 (600,00 in the entire state).

This place is pretty small, we thought. Everyone’s going to know us in no time. And, a lot of them did, primarily because I handed out grants from the company and my husband developed policy for a downtown redevelopment agency.

Chasing warmer climates, we chose a smaller city on the Gulf of Mexico in Florida. Before purchasing a home, we spent a week touring the city, researching its cultural and culinary offerings. Housing was affordable and the people seemed friendly to newcomers.

“This time we’ve settled on a really small city,” my husband said after checking out the local economy. Population: about 50,000.

Everything we liked about the city on our first visit held up during our five-year stay. Who couldn’t be drawn to the Ringling School of Art and Design, the professional ballet, theatre and symphony presentations? And the best live opera in a spectacularly restored opera house. A wide variety of restaurants satisfied our palates. A downtown bookstore/café fulfilled our literary needs. Important, too was the hairdresser who miraculously made my fine hair look full. A bonus was the wonderful friends we met and still keep in touch with.

The endless white sandy beaches were a bonus. But we didn’t get to them as often as we’d hoped. We ran a Farmers’ Market as part of our mandate at the downtown agency where we were employed. Refereeing battles among vendors, sorting out placements that kept everyone happy, creating policies regarding insurance and fees, introducing a smoking ban for vendors took their toll. Our 4 a.m. Saturday starts began to lose their charm. Healthcare costs, humidity, hurricanes and Republican state and federal politics dominated our nightly discussions about what to do next. We decided it was time to return to Canada.

My husband chose Vancouver and we began again. We renovated a condo. I began pottery classes, took up aquatics with a vengeance and volunteered with an arts program at the Vancouver Art Gallery. After months of hanging around not-for-profit agencies and attending Board of Trade ‘meet and greets’, my husband landed work with an economic development agency. We were back in a big city with its varied cultural offerings, its outdoor beauty and its scores of good restaurants.

It was difficult to break in. And there was that traffic. And those poorly timed stoplights. No one looked us in the eye. Everything was expensive. A medical diagnosis, a significant birthday and the end of the lease on our Yaletown condo brought on more evening talks. While we enjoyed what the big city offered, we both felt a need for some peace and quiet. Yet we weren’t ready to turn our backs on the arts, fine cuisine, interesting bookstores, lively discussions and stimulating talks about challenging issues.

“Where does that leave us?” we asked each other. We knew we wanted to be part of a community, live where we could walk to a town centre. We needed access to cultural activity, visual artists and writers. Our past-their-prime bodies acknowledged the importance of a nearby hospital as well as doctors, dentists, grocery stores, a library, hopefully a movie theatre and swimming pool. For me, a beauty salon also ranked high (Fine hair needs a skilled stylist.)

In the past, I’d visited Salt Spring a few times and immediately felt at ease. On one occasion I stayed with a friend in Maracaibo. We walked, toured Ganges and ate delicious fresh fish. My husband and I returned in the summer of 2010, exploring artists’ studios and other tourist attractions. Last February, I returned in for a spa experience. Each afternoon I drove to town to check out the listings in real estate office windows. My appetite was whetted. In late March of this year we came for a week. Every day was a downpour as we drove from Vesuvius to Southey Point back down to Fulford and surrounding areas. Our umbrella blew apart one day as we hopped into our real estate agent’s van. Fifteen houses later we found one we liked. Although our criteria for a new home included no stairs and no gardening, this one had both.

We returned to our room in the Salt Spring Inn. I was sold. If I could like it in the rain, I would certainly love it in the sun. But I also knew my husband was more cautious, less prone to impulsive decision making. I suppressed such rashness and decided not to push. Later, over dinner I broached the subject of living here.

“Let’s do it,” he said. My fork dropped. Outwardly I registered surprise; inwardly I was excited.

“You mean it?” I asked.

“No need to think more about it,” he replied. I stayed an extra day to begin work on an offer. A week later we owned a home.

It’s hackneyed and corny to say it was meant to be. But I believe it was. We have culture. Six bookstores feed our literary appetites. Six bakeries satisfy our sweet teeth. Amazingly talented artists working in all media surround us. I exercise three times a week at Rainbow pool. We enjoy delicious meals at local restaurants (two dozen at last count). The fresh produce and food is now at my fingertips. The local markets still entice me. Salt Springers are friendly and look me in the eye when we meet. I can walk to town. I’m involved in organizations that I love. There’s opportunity for discussion and debate. (There are, I’m told, more PhD’s per capita here than anywhere else in the country.) Fifteen places to worship fulfill spiritual longings.

And I have at least a dozen beauty salons from which to choose. My fine hair will be in good hands.

And now, fortunately, I have a reason to meet more islanders. I will be writing about new and old Salt Spring residents. Giving you the story behind a face or a place that you see regularly. Many of us have come from elsewhere, for many different reasons bringing fascinating experiences. What brought you to the island? I’m eager to hear.

Pat Preston, saltspringstories@gmail.com.