little houses on the prairie

So I'm trying to come up with a cool idea for a map that's not "here are the same ten places in the Garneau area that the rest of you are using too". The thing is, though, is that I go the same places as everyone else, even if my memories are different and all that jazz. I'm trying very hard not to be boring (hopefully I don't come off as trying too hard, y'know?), and honestly I wish I could like, hand over a list of 10 pubs or something and tell you to be on your merry way, because I think that could potentially be one of the greatest assignments of your undergraduate career. (And now I probably sound like the lush I'm not, excuse me.)

Anyways, in doing that I've gone back to thinking about places and why I like them or cannot stand them. I was having a conversation with someone earlier -- I don't know him all that well -- and we ended up talking for a while about the kind of places we'd like to live when we become Real Adults With Jobs and Lives. I have all these ideas about peace and solitude and 10 foot high hedges and rooms full of books and such, with an old oak forest out back or something. Not suffocating, but small. Protected. Everything he told me he wanted? Lots of space, or at least the illusion of it. And pine trees. Something about how growing up in this province can make you crave wide open spaces, I suppose. 

I didn't grow up there, but my people live in what is possibly the most miserable province in Canada for six months of the year. Possibly all year, come to think of it. Anyways, it's Newfoundland and it's stormy the whole fucking winter (cousins had two weeks of actual snow days last year), and every time I go back I'm kind of struck by all of these tiny little houses, especially when I go to the outports, sort of just there, on the rocks. Basically holding on for dear life. The trees are like it too. But the houses are all so compact, and homey, and that's why it appeals to me, I think.

Where was I going with this? Right. Open spaces. Trees. Mmk. I used to think I hated -- or at least, really disliked -- all the open space we've got going on up here. How you can drive for tens of miles sometimes and see about one tree in the middle of a field and that's it.  But I've realised over the past few months that it's not all that bad. I went skiing in Banff with my family over Christmas, and driving down there, for once in my life I didn't fall asleep as soon as we pulled out of the driveway. So I started looking at all of these fields going by, completely covered in snow, with these huge skies up above. And you know, they're actually kind of beautiful. I still feel completely exposed and rather uncomfortable around them. I couldn't live it. But it's really the same as it is back east: these trees, or these little houses, just completely exposed, clinging on. There's strength in that; it's kind of quiet, but it's lovely and it's there. (Alberta also has llama farms, and I am rather fond of that too.) I can appreciate that.

And that's what I'll keep in mind tomorrow and the next day and the day after that when I'm bitching yet again about how I can't wait to get the fuck out of here. If those trees can stick it out, I guess I can give it another go, right?