Tag: Matthew R. Anderson

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Eight-Month Strokeaversary: How’s My Heart?

Several kind folks have messaged me recently asking for a health update, and saying they’ve missed my posts. The fact is: I’ve had a stroke-and-surgery update half-started on my laptop for maybe six weeks! But so much has been happening I couldn’t finish it until now.

In this post, I’ll share some of those events. In a forthcoming post, I’ll focus on more of the details of my actual health update — especially for those who’ve also had (or have loved ones who’ve had) major strokes, or who’ve had PFO Closure surgery, or who may be waiting for news of my hand and leg!

# 1 Heart Surgery in Halifax

A month ago I had a procedure to close the PFO (hole between the upper chambers) in my heart. I was kept awake for the surgery which went well …. but it meant long hours of final grading to finish beforehand, travelling the 2 1/2 hours to Halifax the night before, with Sara as my chauffeur, nurse, and help-mate, the operation itself (more on that in my next post, but a pivotal moment was hearing the surgeon say “I’ve never done that before”!), then trying to follow doctor’s orders (no lifting for a month) to recuperate.

#2 A Book in The Hand

The moment we drove down our driveway on the trip home from the hospital, my – now patched up – heart leaped. Two boxes sitting on the doorstep turned out to contain the first shipment of my latest book, Someone Else’s Saint: How a Scottish Pilgrimage Led to Nova Scotia (Pottersfield Press, an homage to Nova Scotia and to Scotland, and second-place winner of the 2025 Pottersfield Creative Prize for Non-fiction). Sara lugged the boxes in, as ten pounds is my upper limit for lifting while I recuperate. Excitement soon yielded to post-op fatigue…

#3 Throw a Tartan Over It

Just a few days after my return from hospital, I was able to launch Someone Else’s Saint at the wonderful Antigonish Heritage Museum. It was a lovely warm evening, thanks to the talents and scheduling flexibility of friends Barry Mackenzie (colleague from the StFX history department and director of the museum), Lewis MacKinnon (poet and Executive Director of Gaelic Affairs for Nova Scotia), and star musician Mary Beth Carty (Canadian Traditional Singer of the Year 2024). During setup, Barry rapidly produced a variety of tartans, one to cover the cardboard recycling, one for the book table staffed by Sara, and one for the treats baked by museum volunteers. He confided that one of the museum’s life hacks is “just throw a tartan over it.” Even though there were other community events that night, and grade deadlines and convocation to compete with, my (now hole-less) heart melted to see departmental colleagues, community members, and even fellow pilgrims all the way from Halifax come out in support.

pilgrims extraordinaires: Brent King, me, Joann Chapman

#4 Medicine Hat Heartbreak

The biggest thing that happened has yet to completely sink in. My always-happy, full-of-life-and-fun, strong as an ox brother in law Vern Enslen had died – a shock to us all, but above all to my sister Kandace in Medicine Hat. As soon as it was confirmed that I could safely fly after surgery, Sara and I booked the next flight to Alberta. There (still somewhat unsteady on my feet) I conducted the largest service the funeral director had seen in years. “By far,” were his words: “It’s a testament to Vern.” Vern, pictured below, was a gregarious and good-hearted extrovert who made friends with everyone – turned out the funeral director was a buddy as well. We spent valuable time with my sister, still in shock, and with other family, including crowds of my cousins Sara had never met. We had booked a “manager’s choice” car rental out of Calgary airport to save money, and were surprised to be handed the keys to a 2024 Mustang convertible. We both had the exact same thought: it would be just like Vern to arrange this from the great beyond, to remind us of the jovial, sport-loving, boisterous tone he would want his friends to take as they celebrated his life well lived. It seemed odd after a funeral, yet somehow fitting, to be cruising back to the airport with the top down. After the accumulated fatigue of grief, unexpected travel, working with my sister to arrange the funeral, and the intense two days of visiting, we returned to Nova Scotia on a red-eye flight that involved no sleep and a LOT of walking–the most I’d done since the stroke. Whewff.

#5 Heart’s Desire

The night of the funeral turned out to also be the night of the Saskatchewan Book Awards gala. Before Vern’s death, I’d been notified that The Good Walk: Creating New Paths on Traditional Prairie Trails was shortlisted. An unimaginable dream come true, for a book so close to my heart — a memoir of my family’s history and our prairie walks, intertwined with the troubled history of Canada’s prairies. But after Vern’s death, the nomination fled to a dusty corner of my mind. Immediately following the funeral, I collapsed into bed at our Medicine Hat hotel, and didn’t even think to check for the winners. Then an email pinged in from my friend and fellow walker Simone Hengen, who was attending the gala in Saskatoon. She sent a photo of what she was seeing on screen at that moment: a Powerpoint showing The Good Walk. At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at. Then I saw the little gold medallion that said “winner.” University of Regina Press had won the Creative Saskatchewan Publishing Award for my book! It was strange to be jubilant in the midst of loss, but again it felt fitting as I remembered that Kandace and Vern, with his eternal ingenuity and myriad connections, had done so much to outfit me for the long walks across the Prairies recounted in this book.

#6 Faint of Heart

Shortly after we arrived back home, earth-moving equipment showed up to widen our driveway and build a gravel platform for the trailer Sara’s parents Winston and Shirley are going to use as their summer cottage on our property. The platform and driveway were a great success – as an added bonus, they evaded a future problem when they spotted an issue with our septic tank and promptly fixed it. However, the delivery guy from Bouctouche NB didn’t have the gumption to manoeuvre the trailer into place. He was nervous about backing up, and afraid to raise the telephone wires a few inches to clear the air conditioner on top of the unit. In the end he abandoned the huge trailer on the side of the road and went back to New Brunswick, leaving us hoping for the best. Just then, a typical Pomquet neighbour stopped to chat. (No strangers here, only neighbours waiting to happen.) She offered her husband Joe’s tractor and services. The next day, Victoria Day, Joe Rennie showed up and had the unit parked in no time. Sara used our Canadian Tire snow rake duct-taped to a branch clipper to hold up the wires for the trailer to clear. Now, if we can just nab the electrician for hookup, Sara’s parents’ move will be complete…

#7 Heart-Recovery

I want to be sure to mention this: while I’ve posted a lot about my writerly highlights above, life is life. It’s also true that during these last few weeks I got two disheartening manuscript rejections from publishers, and I heard that I’d not received a different book prize for which I’d been shortlisted!

You get the picture. Between surgeries, book prizes, book launches, manuscript rejections, tragic funerals, and major construction we’ve been through quite the roller coaster of events and emotions. Major ups and downs. It feels like a year’s worth of changes have been jammed into a few short weeks.

The surgery and the busy-ness have certainly affected my recovery. More on that very soon in my next post.

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SOUTH BRANCH SCRIBBLER

This prairie boy remembers feeling on top of the world when he got called a “Montreal Creative” by Nantali Indongo on CBC Radio One Montreal in 2012:

But I have to admit being “author Matthew Anderson of Antigonish, Nova Scotia” feels pretty great in 2025. That’s my moniker in this “Story Behind the Story” interview for the South Branch Scribbler. Interviewer Allan Hudson is a New Brunswick writer and promoter of writing, and The South Branch Scribbler is his blog. He reached out to talk about the backstory of Someone Else’s Saint: How a Scottish Pilgrimage Led to Nova Scotia, published this coming week.

If you live near Moncton NB, I’ll be joining Allan at the 3rd Annual Greater Moncton Riverview Dieppe Book Fair, April 26 2025.
Riverview Lion’s Centre 10am to 3pm.

If you live near Antigonish, the official launch of Someone Else’s Saint will be at the Antigonish Heritage Museum on May 1 2025 at 7pm, where I’ll be upstaged by the glorious Mary Beth Carty and blessed in Gaelic (at least I hope it’s a blessing – my Gaelic isn’t too good yet) by Lewis MacKinnon.

If you live further afield, Someone Else’s Saint is available from Indigo, or by request at those two symbols that the world is still a good and just place: your independent bookseller or your public library.

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stroke-recovery

Five Month Strokeaversary: “I Got My License!”

“Dad, can I borrow the car tonight? I promise I’ll fill ‘er up.”

After my stroke, I was required by law to take my driver’s tests (written and practical) again, as a “one-armed driver.” I went in to Access Nova Scotia for an oral exam on road rules and safety, a road signs quiz, and a 45-minute road test. My jovial inquisitor was Teresa. At the end of it all, I officially got to keep my driver’s license.

Yayyy!!! I feel SO thankful.

The Driving Exam

It seems fitting that my 90-min driving exam took place almost five months to the day from my stroke back in September. I was supposed to take it a week ago. But I hurt my unaffected right arm last week overworking it (trying to rake snow off our solar panels, I think, or maybe it was that time I carried in all the groceries at once). It took a week for my “driving arm” to recover enough to turn a corner without grimacing.

Was I nervous? Of course! It will be – unbelievably to me – 50 years this June since I passed my first driver’s test in Regina, Saskatchewan (the above grouchy photo was taken a year or two after that time….I’ve since learned to smile!). The very professional and friendly Teresa here in Antigonish was all smiles when we got back to the provincial office. “Look at that,” she said, holding out her clipboard. “I barely wrote a thing. Sometimes I have to fill these sheets! You got just enough points deducted to prove you’re human.” I know one of the two things I got docked for was not signalling when I left a roundabout, but it was because I couldn’t safely take my right hand off the wheel to get all the way over to the turn signal while making that sharp a turnoff.

Appointments, Appointments, Appointments

Since Sara and I live in the country, not having a driver’s license would have meant a major life change. These days I’m teaching two days a week at Saint Francis Xavier University, 17 km down the highway. (Last week’s midterm exam for Bible and Film pictured above!) A normal week also means driving in two mornings for the Nova Scotia Cardio rehab program “Hearts in Motion” at the StFX Amelia Saputo Centre gym, where I and a dozen other heart patients get sessions on exercise and diet and 75 minutes on the treadmills, stationary bikes, and (for me) elliptical machines. I usually bump into one or two of my students, which is nice. Twice a week I also head back to the stroke rehab centre at the hospital, now as an outpatient. There I do 30 minutes of physio and 45 minutes of occupational therapy. Then there are all the appointments for blood tests, stress tests, reassessments, and consults, most here, but some coming up in Halifax.

I remember the old folks always complaining about how busy they were with appointments. Preoccupied juggling multiple part-time jobs and kids, I remember thinking: that’s hardly something to keep a body busy. Boy was I was wrong! I’ve needed to post myself a schedule just to keep all my rendezvous’ straight and out of conflict with my teaching times. I’ve also apparently joined that group of people who have to remember to take multiple pills daily, counting them out carefully every evening.

Me and My Big PFO

A big date for me comes up the end of this month in Halifax: my initial cardiac procedure pre-appointment. In case you missed my earlier mention of this: apparently I have a “PFO,” a hole between the upper chambers of the heart. This hole exists in newborns, but in almost all people closes in very early infancy. In a small percentage of us, that hole never closes. A PFO can allow a clot from the leg to pass directly to the brain rather than being shunted safely to the lungs for “processing.”

No one seems to know for sure if this is what happened to me. But it may have been. Something poetic about the fact I have a hole in my heart.

At my pre-appointment they’ll confirm whether I’m a candidate to have that hole closed with an arthroscopic procedure involving magnetized rubber washers. Of course I’d like that procedure asap. I don’t want another stroke (although I’m grateful for the meds that have finally brought my blood pressure down from the mountaintops)! But I know I’m fortunate to be seen so quickly about this. For now, on the doctor’s advice I’m not flying or taking long drives. A trip to Montreal to see the kids, or speaking at Gathering of Pilgrims 2025 in Vancouver as planned, are out.

Refuse the Plateau!

The book “Stronger After Stroke” that was sent to me by Greg and Ingrid Gust says that a good rule for stroke survivors is to refuse to accept the idea of “a plateau” limiting their recovery. So that’s what I’m doing. And amazingly, I have yet to see a plateau. Every single day, I see slight but noticeable improvements. For instance, I typed this sentence using the three fingers of my left hand….not easy, nor graceful, but a start.

I sometimes feel disappointed for still having a pronounced limp when I walk (my arm and leg spasticity, or tightness, becomes much worse when I’m cold). Then Sara reminds me that I’m also walking through snow, and up and down multiple flights of stairs at the gym and the university (holding the railing). So there’s that.

The physios at the hospital filmed me walking. “This isn’t for us,” they said. “This is for you, so you can see how far you’ve come.” Sara came into our living room last week to find me lying on the floor. I’d been trying to squat the way I used to pre-stroke. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I tipped over,” I said, not moving. “Do you need help getting up?” she asked gently. “No.” Sometimes, flat on your back, you just gotta laugh.

My proudest news is that for the first time I can actually make a couple of chords on my guitar… WITHOUT always using my right hand to “arrange” my left fingers. Before Christmas I couldn’t even keep my left hand on the guitar without it sliding off under its own weight. Now, the feeling of very slowly moving my left fingers into an A or D chord (the easiest) is pure joy. A stroke-specialist in Halifax I met with over Zoom said to keep at the guitar daily. That seems to be the key: my daily routines, using my left hand as much as possible, even though it takes so much more time (you’d chuckle to see me spending three minutes trying to fish a spoon out of the cutlery drawer for my tea – do you remember Tim Conway’s SOOOOO-slow routines from the Carol Burnett show?).

Book Launch!

One of the best parts of being at least partly back in the routine is getting back to my writing. With my colleague Barry from the History Department who also happens to run the Antigonish Heritage Museum where I was first invited to give the talk that ended up ballooning into my new book, we’ve set a date for the launch — fittingly at the museum! “Someone Else’s Saint: How a Scottish Pilgrimage Led to Nova Scotia” launches there on Thursday April 24th, at 7 pm. I’ll tell the story of the book and do a reading or two, some of the local walkers will attend (I hope), and fingers are crossed for some fine local music! Two days later, Sat April 26th, I’ll be in New Brunswick for the Greater Moncton Riverview Dieppe Book Fair from 10 am to 3 pm. The book is already getting some nice attention, with a planned CBC Radio (All in a Weekend) interview. It’s only in pre-sales, but it’s already listed as #15 in Amazon Canada’s “hot-sellers” in its category (see below). But please don’t buy it there … pre-order it through your local bookstore instead! 🇨🇦

Taking Time for Warm Stanfields and for Berry Blossoms

Like everyone else, I’m having a hard time not doom-scrolling and feeling anxious these days because of the news. But my stroke recovery books – and my common sense – tell me that what’s best for my condition is to maintain a hopeful and constructive attitude, and allow my self-discipline and anxiety to be tempered by humour and forgiveness (good advice for us all). So I’m going to be lining up some post-stroke, retirement-adjacent therapy. I’ll try to dial down the work and dial up the creative writing a bit more all the time. And even on my lower sodium, fat and sugar regime, there’s some room for the occasional self-indulgence, such as these 100% Quebec-made “Berry Blossoms.”

As you might be able to tell from this photo of the moon rise over our neighbours’ place, it’s been cold here in Pomquet – and the cold affects me more since my stroke. So it’s also been great to discover that the “Stanfields” long johns of my youth is now a full clothing line, made since before Canada was even a country, just down the road in Truro Nova Scotia. I bought myself a sleeping shirt and Sara a tee-shirt for Valentine’s. These days, I think we can all agree with the logo.

If by chance you’re thinking of saying goodbye to Facebook at some point, please consider subscribing to this blog as a way of staying in touch. Thank you for following me along on this pilgrimage through stroke, and may the support you’ve given me return to you in a thousand ways. Courage and health to you, from our home to yours!

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4-month Strokeaversary: Back to the Future

Back to Work

As I got out of the passenger seat with my backpack, and teetered through the snowstorm, slightly off balance, to teach my first class in over four months at Saint Francis Xavier University, Sara rolled down the window and looked proudly yet worriedly on. I went a few steps, then stopped and glanced back. “It’s like being in grade one!” I shouted. She laughed. “That’s what I was thinking!”

That first class, and those in weeks since, have gone well, all things considered, four months after a major stroke. I have over 50 lovely students for RELS 210 Bible and Film. I do find I have to stop speaking sometimes to swallow and to catch my breath, problems I never had before. And I’m exhausted at the end of the 75 minutes. When I go to leave the amphitheatre through the doors located at the top/back, I need to look for which side has a handrail to the right. But I find I can stand for almost the whole lecture. Kudos to the current chair of our department, Dr. Robert Kennedy, for suggesting that for the first part of term at least, I do half of my teaching online to save energy.

I was privileged last week to be invited by Katie Murphy, a member of StFX’s rugby team who’s been in several of my classes, to attend the Academic All-Canadian Awards breakfast as her one guest. Each Academic All-Canadian is a student athlete who maintains an average over 80% while excelling at their sport. They get to invite one favourite prof to the breakfast. Sara had the honour of being invited too, by another scholar-athlete, Myro Zastavnyy, who plays soccer. He got the highest mark in her New Testament class last term. All went fine, but a trip back and forth to a buffet table with breakfast in hand presents challenges I’ve never had to deal with before. Katie was a great help. She quipped, “once a server, always a server,” as she carried her own breakfast and some of mine back to our table.

Back to Mobility

Recently, I took my first solo drive in four months. As the kind clerk from the Nova Scotia Motor Vehicle Division assured me: “since your medical has come in all clear, there’s no reason you can’t drive right now. Just be sure to take the test again.” I have to retake both my written and road tests before the end of February, or my license will be suspended.

Off I went. It felt great – and a little scary – to be back motoring out in the big wild world all on my own like that. My first independent excursion since September. I took advantage of my first solo trip to head all the way to town to buy a pair of pull-on winter boots. I can now do up zippers fairly consistently (thanks to my friend Ken Wilson‘s gift of zipper pulls). But tying shoes? I managed to do one lace for Sara’s father’s 90th in Moncton. But it took me over five minutes, tired me right out, and even then it was loose. Pull-on boots for now.

I love two things about the photo of my prayer below from Winston Parks’s big birthday. One is that the Mayor of Moncton, Dawn Arnold, is behind me. Sara has admired her for decades, and tagged her in the facebook invitation. It was a privilege to have her there. The other is that two different members of my family, my son Daniel and my sister-in-law Barbara, when they saw the photo on the right, instantly celebrated the fact that I was holding my remarks in my left hand.

Back to the Hospital (as an outpatient)

Twice a week I drive myself to St. Martha’s Hospital. There I spend a half-hour under Jay’s watchful eye: walking on my heels, walking backwards, side-stepping, and doing high leg-lift marching that reminds me of what we used to do in high-school sports practise.

I still don’t have the left-foot strength to walk consistently on my toes, nor is my “normal” gait that smooth. But I’m getting better every week. After physio, my new Rehabilitation Assistant, Janna, takes over and guides me through 45 minutes of hand and finger exercises. I’m VERY fortunate to still be receiving this level of care! (Please, for my sake and yours, never vote for a party that has designs to privatise healthcare any more than some provinces already are!)

Back Home

This weekend, for the first time, I ventured across our driveway to spent an hour “working out” (I use that term gently) in our crowded insulated shed. Before Christmas, my brother and sister-in-law cleared space and set up the recumbent bicycle and the treadmill (from Sara’s parents’ recent move to an apartment) for me. It was great to listen to a podcast and just get my legs going. There have been both mice and a resident squirrel inside that space in the last year. We cleaned it thoroughly last summer and employed many mouse-proofing tactics, but while I pedalled I kept my eye out just in case.

I have a full home physio routine which includes wrist exercises, doing leg lifts and arm raises, and giving my left hand the “TENS” treatment of low-level electrical current at least 30 minutes a day. I can now sometimes pick up pennies off a table with my left hand and drop them into a pill bottle, arm extended. Although I still have to use my right hand to guide my left, I can now make clearer chords on my guitar. You should see me wipe a counter! It’s a messy business. A big part of my home-work is using my left hand as much as possible to do daily tasks. I think it’s funny that as spastic as I am, Sara still trusts me to wash the crystal (and so close to the cast iron).

In some ways, it’s my expectations that are now changing. Rather than being surprised (and overjoyed) simply to be able to move my arm and hand again at all, these days more and more I find myself reaching for something, say a bar of soap, with my left hand without thinking. Then I’m surprised (and slightly disappointed) when my arm won’t extend that far, or my arm won’t straighten or fingers won’t open enough to grab it. My left hand looks and acts rather like one of those arcade claw machines, like in the movie Toy Story.

On my new low-sodium regime, I allow myself to buy these salted veggie-stix on one condition: I’m only allowed to eat them with my left hand!

I can finally, sometimes, extend my arm straight forward in a “cheers” motion. But I would never be able to hold a heavy pint of German beer in that position! I’m lifting a three pound weight for bicep curls and doing tricep work with a stretch band. Laughably light loads, but a start!

And now that I’m home, I’m noticing some more subtle stroke effects. My eyesight isn’t quite as good as before the stroke. My taste buds continue to be “off” especially around sugars and bread products (that might be the COVID I caught in hospital). And my hearing is slightly, but noticeably, worse…not so much in terms of volume, but when trying to distinguish “t”s, “d”s and the like. I keep reminding myself of how fortunate I am, and how much more damage the stroke might have done. I can use both arms for a hug. That’s worth a lot! And cooking can be the most fun home therapy of all (photo below from my youngest – Gabe’s – visit with us over Christmas, which was a joy). I’m glad that Sara didn’t mind that all my (few) presents for her were from the hospital gift shop!

Back to Writing

All fall in the hospital, it was hard to concentrate on my research project on Jerome with my fatigue, frequent interruptions, and (most welcome!) intensive rehab regime. It was Sara’s suggestion that I use some of my isolation time to get back into writing smaller things, like poetry. I came up with a small collection, which I’m submitting to a provincial competition this week. I can’t share it here (since it must be “unpublished work”), but please keep your fingers crossed for me.

I also turned around the copy-edited proofs for Someone Elses’ Saint: How a Scottish Pilgrimage Led to Nova Scotia, due out in Spring 2025.

My big question mark is typing. If I can figure out a less sensitive keyboard for practise, I’d like to try typing while including my curly-fingered left hand, just to keep those left muscle memories alive. That’s on the to-do list. I sometimes use dictation, but that isn’t the way I am most comfortable composing and the results end up different!

Back to Gratitude

I’m still SO humbled for the ways I was supported all through my time in hospital by so many of you. Thank you! I get rushes of gratitude when I see the cards or when someone contacts me to check on how I’m doing. The postal strike gave us a kind of unexpected blessing, in that here we are in January and I’m still getting cards that were hibernating during the strike. Special recent thanks to Nadine and Phil for the so-very thoughtful box of individually wrapped and labelled goodies, and to George Greenia, who made it an Advent discipline last fall to mail us a steady stream of fun little cards of support, only to have them stack up with Canada Post and arrive all at once this week! Those of you who know George know that in addition to his kind heart he has a cheeky sense of humour. I’ll leave you with one of his mailings as an example!

I was also touched when our friend Amanda texted Sara the week after I got home, to ask, “When is Matthew’s weekly stroke report coming out? Mom and I look forward to it every Sunday.” What a miracle, to write one’s experiences and hopes into the ether, and have them land in the hearts of others.

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Winnipeg Free Press Review of The Good Walk

What a wonderful surprise to have Paul Gehrs send me a short note to say: “I imagine you’ve already seen this, but excitement [for your book] is building here in Winnipeg.”

I hadn’t seen it. Thanks to Gail Perry of The Winnipeg Free Press for this gorgeous review!

Photo of the full-page book section spread below, or if you prefer, the link to the paper’s column here: https://www.winnipegfreepress.com/arts-and-life/entertainment/books/2024/05/04/the-trails-less-travelled

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Today’s the Day: The Good Walk Release!

So many years in the writing, and finally – here it is, world!

Today is the official launch of The Good Walk (University of Regina Press, 2024). It’s no longer listed on all the websites as “pre-order.” It’s out in the wild. And here’s a photo from McNally-Robinson Bookstore in Winnipeg to prove it!!

“Equal parts memoir, travelogue, and manifesto, The Good Walk recounts the adventures of settler and Indigenous ramblers who together retrace the earliest historical trails and pathways of the prairies” (from the back cover)

“Unsettles all our precious notions of a peaceable history with wisdom, erudition, and such good grace” (Trevor Herriot, author of The Economy of Sparrows and Towards a Prairie Atonement)

Review by Foreward Reviews here.

You can order the book here, or from any online bookseller!

Listen to a CBC interview about the book here.

“Anderson observes and savours all the spirits and souls of life…” Louise Halfe Skydancer

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Our Own Green Acres

Have you heard of the 1960s TV comedy series “Green Acres”? It starred Eddie Albert as Oliver Wendell Douglas and Eva Gabor as Lisa Douglas. Oliver and Lisa were a socialite New York City couple who moved from their urban penthouse apartment in Manhattan to a run-down place in the country to fulfill Oliver’s dreams of being a farmer. Oliver would drive the tractor wearing a suit and tie, and Lisa did chores in lace nighties or designer dresses while wearing her pearls. The locals were anything but yokels, and a lot of the plotlines revolved around Eddie getting himself into some pickle and having to be bailed out by bemused neighbours and their advice. (For those interested in such things, there was an interesting subplot with the locals and Lisa being able to hear the theme music and credits, while Eddie was blissfully unaware).

I barely remember the show. But it must have stuck somewhere. More than once this last year, while out trimming bushes or picking up wood or fixing a mower I’ve found myself humming “Goodbye city life, Green Acres we are there.”

Our two acres in Pomquet Nova Scotia (Mi’kma’ki territory) has no run-down century farmhouse, but a Kent mini-home. But after decades of living in Montreal, Nottingham, and Dublin, what I see when I look up is as different from the storefronts and sidewalks and constant traffic I’d grown used to as Green Acres was from the Big Apple. Here, the nights are quiet and dark – so still you can sometimes hear the blood in your ears. Two packs of coyotes often sing across the river to each other at dusk. On afternoon “golden hours” the light suffuses our marshy inlet, turning trees and water into some kind of Flemish Renaissance painting. The big excitement now is not a new café or a street festival, but five blue herons at once, a bald eagle low overhead, or the day we spied a pair of puffins in the salt marsh. Or eggs left on our doorstep by the neighbour, so fresh they’re still warm.

“Next year we’ll harvest some of those.”

From not owning a car for over twenty years, we now have two. Our bikes, once our main mode of commuting, sit idle, but we spend more time than we’d like on the ride-on mower. I’ve had to re-remember habits I’d forgotten: how to brace a gas can so it doesn’t tip over in the trunk, how to file the points and clean up a spark plug, changing oil, raking and shovelling and planting. How to safely burn brush, and the best way to cook sausages over the embers. I haven’t consulted a bus schedule in months – but we check the wind speeds and rainfall every day.

A year ago this month, when we moved back to Canada and first saw this land, there were ripe chokecherries filling the bushes along the driveway. We had five suitcases, our cat Sweet Pea, and each other, but nothing else. “Next year,” I told myself, “Next year we’ll harvest some of those.”

Things always happen more slowly than one would like. In just one year we haven’t even scratched the surface of our dreams and “druthers”. But this week I made chokecherry jelly. Plenty of mosquito bites went into getting those berries. But that first bite of a fresh roll with chokecherry jelly was just about perfect. These really are “green acres.” And we really are there.

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Matthew Anderson appointed part-time Director of Camino Nova Scotia!

(by Dr Rob Fennell AST)

Atlantic School of Theology is pleased to announce the appointment of Rev. Dr. Matthew Anderson as the new Director of Camino Nova Scotia!

Matthew is a professor, podcaster, filmmaker, the author of three books, a Lutheran minister, and a pilgrim with thousands of miles on his boots. In 2015, he helped inaugurate annual treks across Treaty territories on the prairies with Indigenous guidance, and from 2014 the first Old Montreal to Kahnawà:ke Mohawk Territory pilgrimage for students. His podcast “Pilgrimage Stories from Up and Down the Staircase” is on all your podcast platforms.

This summer, Wood Lake Publishing releases Matthew’s newest book, Our Home and Treaty Land: Walking Our Creation Story (co-written with Dr Ray Aldred). Matthew’s pilgrimage blog is at https://somethinggrand.ca. There you can also find his documentary on the Camino de Santiago.

The appointment begins immediately

Matthew is excited to be moving with his wife Dr Sara Parks to the North Shore of Nova Scotia, and can’t wait to explore the land and meet other pilgrims with Camino Nova Scotia! His appointment begins on June 27, 2022.

Atlantic School of Theology and Camino Nova Scotia are grateful to the Province of Nova Scotia’s Department of Communities, Culture, Tourism and Heritage for funding that has made possible Matthew Anderson’s appointment and the expansion of Camino Nova Scotia, for the benefit of all Nova Scotians and visitors to Nova Scotia. We are also grateful to the Office of Gaelic Affairs for its ongoing support of Camino Nova Scotia: Slighe nan Gàidheal | Gaels’ Trail.

photo from Camino NS Cape Breton pilgrimage

(header image credit: image mrbanjo1138 Flickr Creative Commons)

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Sometimes a book comes along at just the right time (a review)

By Christine Way Skinner

Sometimes a book comes along at just the right time. For me, this was Matthew Anderson’s Pairings: The Bible and Booze (Novalis, 2022). As pandemic restrictions were loosening and the possibility of gathering with other people was restored, I yearned for a good discussion group. Pairings provided just the right text for a post-pandemic bible study! The concept is clever. Anderson has chosen ten scripture stories and “paired” them with an appropriate drink. He begins with “Low-Hanging Fruit: Apple Cider and the Second Creation Account,” and ends with “Bringing Down the Curtain: Bloody Caesars and the Book of Revelation.”

Though the book seems light and fun – and it is – it is by no means superficial.

The book is small – only 111 pages – but Anderson packs a wealth of material in each short chapter. Readers will be presented with insights into both Scripture and the history of various libations. Though the book seems light and fun – and it is – it is by no means superficial. Anderson provides rich, thought-provoking points for discussion on important and meaningful topics. Each time, our group has met, folks have arrived with points underlined that they wanted to discuss. And discuss we did! So far, the topics have included the portrayal of women in the Bible, the church’s role in colonialism, the comfort that faith brings to our lives, and the admixture of bitterness and sweetness in human life.

I have recently become fond of ordering a beer flight in our local restaurant/brewery where I can sample a variety of beers in small sizes. This always leads me to think, “I’d really like to try more of that beer.” Pairings reminds me of such beer flights. Every chapter left me intrigued to learn more. So, I very much appreciated the excellent suggestions for further reading that Anderson provides at the chapter’s end. I also appreciated that he provides non-alcoholic drink pairing for those who prefer this. Sharing a drink among friends can be wonderful, but alcohol can also be problematic. Thus, I found this to be an ethical, sensitive, and compassionate addition.

The small group we formed around the book has met only four times. I look forward to our six more meetings by which time, (hint, hint), we might have a Volume II!

Christine Way Skinner is a lay minister and author. She received a Bachelor of Arts in Theology degree from St. Francis Xavier University and a Master of Divinity from Harvard Divinity School. She is currently working on a Doctorate in Theology at St. Michael’s College in Toronto. Christine loves trying to find inclusive, compelling, and creative ways to pass on the church’s 2000-year-old traditions. She enjoys exploring the arts, gardening, and engaging conversations. Christine’s numerous publications can be found and purchased here.

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Lancement d’Apocalypse et gin-tonic!

I’m delighted with the wonderful translation into French of Pairings: The Bible and Booze, done by biblical scholar, podcaster, journalist, Catholic activist, and PhD student Sabrina di Matteo (phew, it’s tiring just to list all those occupations!). So it’s a real pleasure to announce the upcoming French-language book launch where we present this book to the world together!

Il faut le boire pour le croire

(from the translation – only one of many improvements to the original!)

Funny that les éditions Novalis and éditeur Jonathan Guilbault are partnering with Librairie Paulines on rue Masson in the Rosemont area of Montreal for the launch. I used to live just up the street from this bookstore, on 7e avenue, so I know this chic and interesting neighbourhood (and this cool bookstore) well!

On the agenda: quiz, conversation, swag, cocktails! Because of the pandemic, it’s been a while since I’ve been in Montreal, so my homecoming will be dans la langue francaise, as it should be!!

You can check out an “Apocalypse et gin tonic” quiz, and a short intro video here!

If you can’t make the launch, you can order Apocalypse et gin-tonic here (and of course, the English version, Pairings, is still available, and at a sale price, here!)