Tag Archives: life changing moment

The kitchen’s a mess

My Messy Kitchen

Continue reading


How Modern Family is Saving Social Morals from Themselves

and other funny stories.

We hosted a dinner party for three women and three men. Two of the women are in a long-term relationship. One of the men is in a long-term relationship with one of the women. That leaves two men unaccounted for.

Our two male guests happened to be wearing the same shirt.

“Time to play: Who wore it best?”

Continue reading

A mother’s image

It’s not that I hate being framed by the lens of a camera, rather it’s that I hate what it might “see”.

Out of my profile a nose arcs out like a parrot’s beak. My mouth is typically caught open in a gaping guffaw or wide smile that forces my lips into the shape of a curly bracket } and my cheeks into a featureless beach ball. And, the penance I pay for a lush head of hair? A peach-fuzzed visage topped off with a post-partum shadow over my upper lip. My patchy skin, my short forehead, my bushy eyebrows, my thick neck… the list of critiques is lengthy and I haven’t even begun to describe below my shoulders!

That’s what I see, but this is what she sees: Continue reading

Welcome to the blog

I love a good photo, but a dreadful one is even better! Especially this one for its pairing with the birth of an adoption; a process I can’t wait to follow.

Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my food blog: Meat Eating Vegans!

Dorothy Was Adopted

This past spring I FaceBook posted a truly epic photo of me. I was in all of my glory – disheveled hair, buggy wild eyes, and a strained expression extending from collarbone to forehead. You can imagine the comments (I love you all, I really do).

The truth is that photo was one of the more important ones taken of me in my entire life.

That wintry and blustery day last spring, Martin and I had rushed during our lunch hour to get an RCMP clearance check. We handed over several pieces of ID, got fingerprinted, and then photographed. A few weeks later, we had another important piece of documentation in our hands – confirmation by Interpol that we are clear of any previous criminal activity. Another hurdle cleared.

We’ve been doing a lot of high jumping this past year……….because there’s a lot of paperwork to be done when you’re…

View original post 198 more words

Higher Ground Women’s Ensemble

Sea to Sky Big Bad joining forces with Higher Ground Women’s Ensemble – Nov 15/17

Am I excited to be part of this? You bet I am! And, when they asked for a brief blog post? I jumped at the chance!

A “Newcomer’s” Perspective

By Betsy Agar

I’m new to Higher Ground, I mean really new. Many members have known one another for years, or even studied under Janet while she taught high school, but I’m an Ontario import with no such history on the North Shore. It hasn’t mattered even an eighth note! More…

Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my food blog: Meat Eating Vegans!

Open letter to helicopter parents

Dear Helicopter Parents,

I am sympathetic to your worries and can understand your intentions, but I would appreciate it if you could reign in your hovering urges when it comes to my kids.


Kids leading the way along the WillametYou see, I am not one to hover; mine are the children who wave goodbye to me without looking back.

They know I would never send them off into a world they are not prepared for.

They know that things might go differently than they might expect, but they can adjust and move on.

They have been listening to the new skills I have taught them at each step of their development.

But it is what I know that I would like to discuss with you.

I know when it is time to let them choose who attends their birthday parties.

I know when my kids have learned what range of foods they should put in their own lunches.

I know when it is time to let my 11-year-old navigate a controlled crosswalk across a busy street.

I know when my 11-year-old can ride with his 8-year-old sister to your house for a play up the notorious hills of North Vancouver.

I know when they are ready to be at home alone for 15 minutes, a half an hour, and eventually for an evening.

Isaac star jump

So, please don’t

Pout if your kid was not invited this year,  he or she may make the cut next year, who knows, kids are fickle.

Feed my children more than they thought to pack.

Insist on picking him up because you wouldn’t let your child cross a busy street alone.

Offer to drive them home.

Wonder what kind of parent I am to leave her children alone.

Because, I’m the kind of parent who expects that her kids

Never need to be reminded to be polite.

Never expect other houses to be just like home.

Never need me to hold their hands while they are out.

Never question why we choose to leave the car at home whenever possible.

Always know that I am just a phone call away should they need me.

They are confident, flexible, individually minded, and proud they can do so much on their own.

They make mistakes, they get hurt, and they struggle with their feelings.

They fly their own helicopters.


A woman trying to teach her children independence and courage

Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my food blog: Meat Eating Vegans!

Passion over pragmatics

Sometimes I re-watch this when I can’t quite remember the direction I was going:

Swiggtalk chats with Betsy Agar about following your passions, advice on choosing to do what you love, and the many career options available to teen girls. More at http://www.swiggtalk.com

Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my new blog! Meat Eating Vegans

In the quiet

Two square shapes
On one rectangle
Their sides rectangles too.

She reaches out
With her cylinders
And lifts an angle.

Her big circle stills
Her small circles
Rest on the squares.


She puts the sphere
As though it could be taken apart.

Put together
Taken apart
Put together.

All that is left is to
Choose the colour.

This moment is hers
I pause
And this is my reward.


Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my new blog! Meat Eating Vegans

But what does it mean

They’re drifting
I thought they’d stay
I lose more
With each day

Half full
And my heart beats off and on

I pine and wane
This is my fate
Brought on by me

Half full
And it seems I’m losing steam

We count the like
In the face of stars
It seems so small
But my heart is theirs

Half Full
And a solo is this song

A new beginning
Brought a new end
I have to start
To start again

Half full
And myself I have to blame

All that’s new
Seems permanent
I cannot see
A return again

Half full
And life here is unknown

Late at night
Voices the same
I cannot see
A logic game

Half full
And here I must remain

They said I’d turn
It could be so
I can’t predict
What’s left to show

Half full
And so I plod along

If you see
I’m there today
Please forget
What I might say

Half full
My thoughts are wicked friends


Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my new blog! Meat Eating Vegans

The destiny of an accidental writer

If destiny is predetermined, then perhaps I have always been a writer, with skills and passion lying in wait, building on personal experiences that would define that destiny. Although, it is equally possible that I might never have been a writer. Last night, I was reminded that there are a few chance occasions that have accidentally led me to this place.

Photo Credit: My 4-year-old son

Photo Credit: My 4-year-old son

The first was an event of outrage, which I was compelled to place squarely on the shoulders of a Letter-to-the-Editor. As I say in my bio, engineers are not expected to be able to write, and I are an engineer, as the saying goes. I never thought about writing, despite my way with words being my most valued asset while I was practising.

That letter started a habit and that habit grew into writing opinion pieces for the Hamilton Spectator. Most of these are now in archives, but one still lingers to remind me of my roots: The Balancing Acts of Motherhood.

The second was an event of irony. I tried to negotiate my way out of a Computer Science course, which is required for my program of study (CultureNet at Capilano University), but the Registrar refused so I had to “suffer” through. The irony: That course provided me with a set of invaluable skills in a number of unexpected ways. It was also the impetus for this blog.

Way back in May of 2011, when I posted my introductory “Hello world!” as is the tradition in the World Wide Web, I expected just to let the blog die along with the close of the course. I wrote about what I knew, namely parenthood, about what I was learning, mostly topics in sociology, and eventually about what I love, always concepts in social and environmental sustainability. It would seem that my blog didn’t die, and it won’t anytime soon.

The third was an event of luck, when I answered a call for volunteers to help with the We Canada campaign.

A year after relocating to Metro Vancouver, I was coming down from that initial high of moving to a new city (and frankly not looking forward to returning to classes in September). At the time, I was still juggling “littles” and school was my only prospect “outside of the home.”

When the ad for writers to craft online content for a national campaign appeared, a door opened, angels sang, my heart stopped, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel, in short, every promising cliché nodded smugly and said: See? Told you.

The We Canada Team, Partners, Sponsors, and Champions, are a stunning aggregation of Canada’s most passionate, dedicated, and focussed citizens and experts. They are the reason I continued to write, and I am forever indebted to them all for the opportunity and motivation.

I have only been calling myself a writer in recent months. The persona still fits more like a cardigan than a second skin and it has a long way to go before I’ll claim it with confidence, but like any labour of love, it is 110% worth the sacrifice.

Live within limits without limiting life

Follow me and check out my new blog! Meat Eating Vegans

%d bloggers like this: