Well, Finders, it has been a while now hasn’t it? Not much has been going on in my little world, more work than play but balanced enough. Although, I did go to an intensive work conference in Banff, only to return home to find Rusty laid up with a pulled back and the bloody World Cup in full swing. Honestly, I had to get the groceries and everything. Seven more days of soccer to go and this marriage is hanging on by a thin thread.

I’ve also had the pleasure of more doctor visits than I care to count—a traitorous knee that will require an injection of some sort of NASA grade super lube and two bumps that had to be hacked out of my leg, not once but twice on account of them being cancerous (not serious in any way). I look like I lost a back alley knife fight. No scars, no stars my boss, a former top cop, likes to say. By now I should be covered in more gold stars than Patton himself.

But just in case you thought my life of adventure was limited to the lugging bags of food around and wound care, fear not, for as soon as that husband has a fit form and some free time, we will be…wait for it…swapping the vanities and sinks from one bathroom to another! Oh yes, it has come to this: global goddess (at least in my mind) to the most boring woman on the planet. Oh wait, I almost forgot. The other day, in a fit of radical audacity fuelled by a hot flash, I painted my toenails purple. If my life gets any more mundane I may slow down long enough to think before I speak. Fat chance.

You know, it’s odd this place where I find myself now. I don’t mean Victoria—land of the terminally tattooed and blithely buffed; this city of wondrous weather and lush landscapes. No, I guess I mean going from having too much to do in hospitals to having nothing to do in France, then to a life somewhere in between medical madness and prolonged meditation in a medieval town.

My years of living dangerously abroad have led to this past year of living rather un-dangerously in a pretty Canadian town by the sea. Starting a new career has had its ups and downs, and its future is blurry to me despite my spectacles with lenses cleverly engineered just for ladies of a certain age. Where it goes from here is probably best determined with a crystal ball. My French (such as it was) is fading and I fear I may be picking up the Valley girl accent so common in these parts, like totally. Adapt or die I always say. I’m becoming fully entrenched in this new yet old way of being, and so far, it is good.

While my current financial situation nixes any European travel anytime soon, I have become curiously proud of living on an annual salary less than my annual tax bill when I was a fancy pants doctor. That’s not to say living within its limits doesn’t challenge me in some small way three times a day. It really does. Dreams of lottery wins are becoming recurrent. The saving grace is I believe in what I am doing; that it will somehow make a difference for children whose lives are so perilous that it beggars belief. That and the hope that my goofy book will get “discovered” and rocket up the NYT bestseller’s list, then be made into a brilliant indie film starring Allison Janney who refers to me as her inspiration and soul sister when she accepts her Oscar.

And speaking of books, I was inspired to return to the blog today because I just received a royalty cheque (long spent on work clothes and wine), which reminds me there are still folks out supporting the doodles, and for that I am truly grateful. But enough about me, what have you been up to?