This is a story, as my headline suggests, about Destiny. About Fate. It's a story I've told many times but never in writing. I'll try to tell it just the way I do around a dinner table.
In 1986, I was living in Prince Edward Island where I had been the first editor of a newspaper called Atlantic Fisherman. It covered the commercial fishery in all four Atlantic provinces and it was a job I loved. The newspaper was very popular with the fishermen — not so much with the industry or the bureaucracy or the politicians — and it was right up my alley: encouraging the fishermen to define their own industry. I travelled around talking to fishermen on the wharves of Atlantic Canada and I learned so much and made some lovely friends.
I was leaving the job though — reluctantly — and I was up in the air about what I was going to do next.
Valerie was a free-lance writer in Halifax who did a lot of work for my newspaper. We had never met in person but we had taken to talking on the phone several times a week and had become friends. We knew about each other's lives, families, ambitions — really, the only thing missing from our friendship was that we'd never seen each other, face to face.
One day, Valerie phoned and told me there was a job available in Halifax: editor of Atlantic Insight. She said I should apply. Atlantic Insight was the premier general interest magazine in the region.
I was pretty sure I could do that job — in fact, I suddenly came up with all kinds of good ideas that I thought would improve the magazine — but I did wonder if I had the profile and the résumé that publisher James Lorimer would be looking for. Nothing to lose though so I put together my credentials with a letter and sent it off.
Lo and behold, I heard back from James and he came to Montague to interview me. We sat in a bar — the best bar in PEI (the Lobster Shanty) — for two hours and it was a fairly bizarre interview but I went home to await his call.
I'm not sure of the time sequence but I do know that when he called to offer me the job, it was a Friday afternoon.
I had a lot to do. I called friends in Montague to tell them I'd be moving. I called my sister. I called Valerie early on and got no answer but I kept trying.
In Halifax, every Friday afternoon — for Happy Hour and a pub supper — Valerie and a variety of friends went to Gus' Pub & Grill, very near to where Valerie lived. In this photo are good friends Carolyn, Eleanor and Sharon C. standing. That's Valerie in front.
Meanwhile, Dan O'Connor, whom Valerie had known when they were both at Dalhousie University a few years earlier, had returned to Halifax from Winnipeg. He had been Communications Director in the office of Manitoba Premier Howard Pawley and had come to Nova Scotia to be Chief of Staff in NDP Leader Alexa McDonough's office.
Valerie and friends were used to having an all-girl Friday evening supper but Dan was an old friend and always good company so they decided he could be the Token Male and he often joined them at Gus'.
Here's Dan with Carolyn, Valerie and Sharon C.
On that Friday in Montague, I called Valerie several times and still no answer. I fussed around, started making plans and lists, began considering how I was going to get moved.
And here is where Destiny enters the story: At around five to nine, I said to myself, "I'll try Valerie once more and if I don't reach her this time, I'll wait and call her tomorrow."
I called and Valerie was there! She said they had just got back from Gus' and were making a quick pit stop at her place before heading downtown to the Take Back the Night March. She said, "If you'd called five minutes later, we wouldn't have been here!"
I told her I'd got the job and was moving to Halifax. She repeated my news loudly and excitedly to the people who were there: "Sharon got the job and she's moving to Halifax!" To me, she said, "I'll find you an apartment! In fact, there's someone here right now who has an apartment for rent. I'll tell him about you!"
Dan, just moved back from Manitoba, had bought a house that included a small apartment. The apartment was empty and there he was, right in Valerie's apartment on that Friday night, in need of a tenant. Valerie said she'd give him my number and she gave me his number and said maybe we could work something out.
You may think it's a stretch to call this Destiny but I can assure you of this: if I had not reached Valerie that evening, in that five-minute window, when Dan was right there, she would not have thought of his apartment. She would have happily found me an apartment in the North End of Halifax — in her neighbourhood — and my whole life would have turned out differently.
That five minutes was a life-changer for both Dan and me. We did work things out and I moved into the little apartment on the lowest level of his house. If I hadn't, I'm sure I would have become acquainted with Dan and moved in somewhat the same circles but we never would have had the opportunity to nurture such a close and deep friendship as we were able to do while living under the same roof — different living quarters but same house.
That was 30 years ago. We got married in 1988, became parents in 1994, have moved away, moved back and will no doubt move again.
Valerie likes to take credit for it all and she deserves a lot. She reminds me that she said when I moved to Halifax, "Well, I found you a job and I found you an apartment. Now do you want me to find you a man?" I said thanks, but I'd take care of that myself.
And I did.
This is the heritage house where we lived back then — the right hand side. It was a lovely blue when it was ours.
The headline I've used is part of a quote from Anaïs Nin. The whole quote is:
You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars
Monday, May 30, 2016
Lobster? Rhubarb? It must be a spring-time birthday
Just to remind you, here are the cards that have ended up on our mantelpiece over the past month:
Here's a different view, same cards:
And here's one, with Grizzly "helping" because cats always "help" in these situations:
We started with Mother's Day on May 8. We celebrated my birthday on May 14 — a lovely birthday.
We marked our 28th wedding anniversary on May 26 with a low-key enjoyable celebration.
And as the calendar ticked down, it was Dan's birthday yesterday. It was a milestone birthday and we had special friends join us to make a simple party fun and memorable.
Valerie tried to get Dan to make a speech; he didn't but he was gracious about it.
(Photo by Valerie Mansour)
Friends Claude (Goulet), Lynn (Stewart) and Douglas (Blackmore) listened politely.
(Photo by Valerie)
We had lots of cheese and paté and olives and crackers and some of Chuck Hughes' no-knead bread but even when you're keeping things simple, if you tell people there will be lobster rolls, that becomes the high point. Because I always like to have things done in advance, I spread the making of the lobster roll filling over a couple of days. Shelling the lobster is the most time-consuming so I shelled a bit on Friday and a bit on Saturday. It's hard work but someone has to do it.
The lobster rolls were do-it-yourself. Here's Lynn.
And while everyone likes a lobster roll, I thought the cake would be well-received also. It was made (by me) with luscious fresh rhubarb that Valerie brought from Amherst. Valerie is very generous with rhubarb throughout the season and it's become an annual challenge to come up with new recipes to enjoy the tart treat. We've made cakes and crisps and crumbles. We've made chutneys and savoury sauces and muffins. We've made jams and jellies. Pies, of course.
This was the latest creation:
William did the honours and we all sang lustily.
(That's William and I and Cousin Dale — photo by Valerie.)
And Dan took care of the candles:
He did a lovely job of cutting and serving:
Valerie seemed to enjoy her cake and Ann (Roman) opted for take-out. She was going to take her cake to work for lunch the next day.
And that's about it. It was a joyous occasion and I know we were all happy to fête Dan on his birthday. After the guests left, he decided that he might as well finish the Prosecco — a sparkling wine — because if he didn't, it would go flat. Then he listened to La Traviata from the Metropolitan Opera and he listened to it nice and loud.
So with the month of May once again behind us, we have a good six months to prepare for the next family birthday when William turns 22 in November.





