This is a letter to all my far-flung internet penpals. I’m here, you’re there, and it’s been too long since we’ve been together in the same place. Here’s what’s going on where I live, and I’d love to know what’s happening where you are.
It’s spring here, which means we survived the winter. On Monday, I ate breakfast on the patio at Wooden Spoon uptown, then I went to the record store to pick up The Band by The Band on vinyl, then I walked all the way home in the sun. It’s also spring break for the kids, so I find myself with a bit more free time than usual. But instead of the anxiety of not working, I’m thinking instead about how this could be my life all the time.
(I even let my mom talk me into applying for the farmers market because the COVID restrictions have been lifted, and all products are welcome again. She’s been crocheting and sewing again and has a big tub of kitchenwares to sell, which is good because it takes some of the pressure off me. I’ll let you know when we know our schedule!)
You probably remember how last year I committed a portion of All Day Breakfast’s proceeds to a variety of causes throughout the season. The one closest to my heart is the Land Back movement and the fight against the oil and natural gas pipelines the federal government is forcing through Indigenous territory. As a child of the wild west coast, I yearn for tiny towns and a mountain home. But as a white settler, my memories of hiking, camping, canoeing, and biking are happy ones. My childhood memories and future dreams are mapped on stolen land. This is a reminder for settlers to support the Indigenous land defenders on the ground, physically putting their bodies in the way of the pipeline and the police sent by the government to shut down opposition. Two groups I support are Tiny House Warriors and Unist’ot’en Camp, both located in northern BC.
Closer to home, two young activists started Takeover Skateboarding, a movement against skateboarding’s dominance by old straight white men. I’d love if you’d support them in their work, especially their recent campaign, Safe Rides, to ensure Indigenous, Black, Asian, queer, trans people have access to the resources necessary to feel safe on the city streets. If you feel safe on this land, if you feel protected on this land, if you benefit from living on this land, you have an obligation to lift up those who do not.
I started writing this letter so I could share that last link with you. I’ve been going back and forth on the decision to do the farmers market again this year, especially now that I’m writing a book with a deadline. But since the season ended, I’ve been searching for a community organisation to join here out in the suburbs. So much organising happens across the river because so many people live in the city. The market, at least, was a way I felt connected to my community.
I thought it would be a good idea to use this year to focus on this book and work towards the shop I know I can build in the future. But the more I think about going back to the market, the more I want to be there. I got my sourdough starter out of the freezer this month and brought it back to life.
And here’s a link to my sourdough instructional zine. It’s a pay-what-you-want download, and even without the dried starter, it’s a helping hand to get your own sourdough going. (The dried starter is available here, though!) It’s my contribution to the community, however far apart we may be.
PS. I’ll have another letter for you on Saturday–a recipe! Finally!–so make sure you’re subscribed because they won’t all be online.