Tuesday, February 23, 2010

In other news...

Why yes I am handling the news of my departure from the newspaper remarkably well! Thank you for noticing, local radio host!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

How can we miss you if you won't go away?

Today I covered my last council meeting. You'd think that being the last one would make it special and make me want to soak up every last drop of small-town politics while I had the chance.


I was as hard-pressed to keep my eyes open as ever.


The Reeve (mayor) and a few staff members apparently got wind that this would be my last meeting, and over the lunch break, several council members approached me to offer their help if I need references for work. The Reeve gave a little speech thanking me for my honest but fair coverage over the past two years and the staff presented me with a bouquet of flowers.

Considering that I've spent much of the last two years afraid to show up at meetings or, you know, walk around out of doors for fear of being tarred/feathered by some kind of Beauty and the Beast-style mob, I've been blown away by the reactions from people when they find out I'm leaving.

My editor held a little going away shindig for me at her place earlier this week. I figured it would pretty much be just the two of us, as two of the people from our tiny office were sick, and one was on holidays. Instead, pretty much everyone I've worked with, and some who I never worked directly with but got to know while covering events, since I got here drove into town to say goodbye.

Two weeks ago when I first got the news that I would be busting out of here, like it or not, I've been walking around with a chilly lump of fear in my stomach and coating my internal organs that no amount of jalapeno soup can take on.

Realizing that I've been a bright enough spot in even one or two peoples' days that they're actually sorry to see me leave, well, that's some powerfully warm and fuzzy stuff.

And of course, I couldn't help but crack a smile at this month's animal control report:

- 2 dogs taken to the vets
- OPP called me once
- Black Lab got caught in a 22 degree connibear trap The owners of the dog thought that the dog was dead. They cut the trap off with bolt cutters and did mouth to mouth on the dog and the dog came back to life.

"And the dog came back to life."

Well then.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Llama kisses for all!

I just wanted to say thank you so much to all of you for your seriously lovely and encouraging comments on my last post. I feel like I'm climbing a wonky staircase blindfolded, and there is this little army of voices shouting encouragement from their own staircases, and being disappointed for me when I'm knocked off. Pretty amazing.

I've been veering back and forth between nervous excitement and downright panic, but to be honest, between frantically packing house, sending out resumes and mapping out potential plans in my head, I haven't had much time to absorb what's happening.

This weekend however, I did make time to say goodbye to everyone's favourite Llama family. Between soft, winter-woolly llama hugs, and the most supportive blog friends ever, I'm definitely veering back towards being a very happy young lady.

Friday, February 5, 2010

How my life got flipped, turned upside down

You know when you've felt prepared for something for such a long time that when it finally happens, it shocks you anyway?

For months the editorial departments of the area small-town papers have been an anxious hive of arched eyebrows and dark smirks every time the publisher or other upper management announce they'll be stopping by.

Print media is not exactly the place to be at the moment. We've seen what's happened to other papers across the country and we don't have to ask for whom the bell tolls.

As one of the newest additions to our little group of papers, I've never felt particularly secure.

And yet, finding out that my position is to be the collateral damage in the latest round of cutbacks still came as the kind of shock that makes your blood roar in waves behind your ears. I could only nod and smile and make jokes as the management-types apologetically slid an envelope across the desk to my outstretched hand.

They could have at least delivered the news via fortune cookie or something.

While there's no denying I've heard that little whisper urging me to move on to the next thing, I intended to do so at my own pace, hopefully with a new job and a place to live secured.

The best laid blah, blah, blah.

Believe me I know that things could be far worse. When I look back it will be clear that this was just one more opportunity in a (fairly thin) disguise.

I will be determined to land on my feet.

But for now, I'm just reeling.

Monday, February 1, 2010

When life gives you snow,

make tiny snowmen!

I made this little guy a few nights ago to greet Sparta from the front porch when he got home from work. Now when I wake up and it's freezing, I think, well, at least the snowman made it through another night.