Newfoundland – The Finest Kind
Would we retire in Newfoundland without Killick Ecovillage(opens in new tab)? That’s the key question a keen friend asked after my last eager post(opens in new tab) about our week of connection in our future cohousing home. Sarah and I stopped, looked quizzically at each other like we'd been asked why we like peanut butter, and eventually came up with three responses.
1. We Don’t Need to Know
The fact that we’d never thought about it is telling. Reality is, we don’t feel a need to know. We’re not waiting for Killick to finish getting financing, build, and call us to move in a few years from now. We are part of the community right now. Active on three “circles” (committees). Part of an online writers’ group. Sharing facebook posts and stories and interacting like Friends.
If it did all fall apart, we’d be bummed, and we’d have to more fully answer this “what next” question. But we wouldn’t feel like we’d wasted our time - this is an active, Joyful building process we’re part of.
So we don’t have long lists of pro’s and con’s, contingency plans, safety valves. We simply are - today - part of the community, looking forward to one of these days being a daily in-person part. That’s enough.
2. We’re Confident We Don’t Need a Back-up Plan
Sure, it could fall apart. 90% of cohousing initiatives don’t make it to construction; this is hard stuff. We’re still lining up financing, fine-tuning designs to balance affordability with liveability and sustainability, and dialoguing with neighbours concerned about change (even though the alternative to our eco-friendly 51-unit development was the 200 big houses and paved roads the former commercial developer had planned before thankfully withdrawing.)
Without ignoring these hurdles, we deeply believe in the team, the work, and the vision. Planning and hard work started with the core group ten years ago - so long that one of the original kids will now be buying his own adult apartment right beside his parents and younger sister. The plans are solid, the human systems are rooted in respect and communication, the people are good, committed people. We haven’t brought in a backhoe yet, but a solid foundation has already been laid, and I know in my bones that Killick Ecovillage(opens in new tab) will be among the 10% of well-intentioned groups that do make it off the ground.
St. John's - the Finest Kind
All the reasons we grooved on Newfoundland a year ago (in this blog post(opens in new tab)) are alive and well. Vibrant cultural scene - folk music, storytelling circles, poetry nights, art exhibitions. Stunning landscapes, bracing weather, and hardy, loving people who embrace the power of outdoor activity. A warm welcoming Quaker meeting. A unique and proud heritage and way of life that can only be forged by centuries of living on a rock that’s closer to Greenland than to Toronto.
We build on that understanding by doing a real-estate tour. So many affordable (by BC standards) multi-coloured saltbox houses that would be great for Galen and Cai if they come study at Memorial University, or for us if that’s our destiny. Speaking of education, two of our Killick friends are in the Textile and Apparel Design(opens in new tab) diploma program at the College of the North Atlantic that Sarah’s itching to jump into, and both schools have creative writing programs that might be a good stretch for me.
We already have a network that would enrich our lives even without the magic of cohousing. Timing's too tight this trip to pick up on the various clubs and involvements we had last time. But Roger treats us to a Filipino lunch and teaches us about the work being done for and by New Canadians. Liz takes Sarah to a Quaker meeting happy to welcome us home. And Shelley and Bernard open their home overlooking Petty Harbour to us for a 3-day delight of delicious food, cliff-side dog walks, and long conversations like the old friends that we are fast becoming.
As a special treat, Bernard lends me some rubber boots and lets me “help” cast cod nets from his commercial fishing boat. Sadly, I’m unable to go back out at 5am the next morning to pull them in and help with gutting the hundreds of pounds of cod he and his partner get each time. But regardless of where we end up living, that’s a promise I know I will eventually keep.
Their boat is named “The Finest Kind” - a local expression meaning something is excellent, in the best possible condition. It can be used for pretty much anything that’s top notch. “How was your summer… The finest kind.” “How were your fish & chips… The finest kind.” "Got our gear aboard and the weather cleared up… Yes b’y, she's finest kind."
So, dear Laurie, would we still move to Newfoundland if Killick Ecovillage didn’t pan out? Based on our first two gut responses, we don’t feel any need to have a clear answer to that question. And based on #3, our answer would be clear... She’s the finest kind.
PS - Sarah has been told she’s “Bustin the b’y" with her knee replacement recovery(opens in new tab) - a classic Newfoundland slang phrase that means having an excellent, wildly fun time or doing something with high energy and enthusiasm.
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Currently in...
Montevideo, Uruguay, for Sept-Oct, recovering from knee-replacement and a busy busy summer
Heading to...
Chile, Easter Island, Carnival!, Monteverde. Please share any sites, people or ideas by email.
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Love this
You are both such an awesome part of our community! And it was terrific to have you home for a couple weeks. Kettle’s on for you next time back.