About Me and Contact

Welcome to High Heels in the Wilderness. 

I started writing this blog in 2014, about a year after I retired from teaching, partly because I taught creative writing for many years, and I missed the story telling and creative to-ing and fro-ing involved in teaching writing to teenagers. Partly because I need an outlet to talk about whatever inspires me. And partly to put into practice what I taught kids over the years... namely to write what they cared about, and not to be afraid to put their work "out there." 

I taught high school English for many years in Ottawa, Ontario. But I'm originally from "down-east." My passions are books, fashion, travel, and staying fit enough to keep up with my skiing, canoeing, biking, gardening, golfing husband. And story-telling, of course.

If you have any questions about this blog you can contact me here.

For the rest of my story you might want to read the post below.

Streamside Chic: How High Heels and Wilderness Came Together

I came across this picture of Karlie Kloss in a Saint Laurent dress and hip waders in Vogue a while ago. She's the very epitome of streamside chic. "Hip waders and high fashion." If I ever write my life story maybe I'll use that as the title. 

streamside chic in Vogue December 2014
Vogue December 2014
You see, I've always been equal parts city and country, part girly-girl and part tomboy. Fifty percent fashion and fifty percent fishing, or something. Ever since I was a kid. I remember the summer I was eight, my older brother Terry and another boy in the neighbourhood worked all summer for my grandfather who owned a well-drilling company. Well-drilling is kind of the family business. My mum's father, all my uncles, and in turn my brother, and most of my male cousins... all well-drillers. That summer Terry and Albert loaded and unloaded pipe, and scraped and painted every bit of machinery Grampy owned. I helped. Seriously, I got up every morning and went to "work" with the boys. I loved it. According to my mum, I'd come home in the evening covered in grease and paint and insist I had to drink my tea from a china cup and saucer. You see, I was part grease monkey, part lah-di-dah lady.

I've never minded getting dirty. And I've always fished. When I was a kid, I fished with brother Terry, who was nine years older. He bought me my first fishing rod when I was ten. Later when I was eleven or twelve I fished with Terry's father-in-law who was an avid sportsman. And in my teens I fished with my step-father and step-brother.

In my twenties, I met my husband. There probably aren't words to describe how much Hubby loves fishing. We met in the staff room of the high school where he taught Phys. Ed. and where I was supply teaching. I was wearing high heels and a navy skirt suit. I know I probably looked as if I thought stuff like canoeing and camping was beyond the pale. So imagine his surprise when he discovered that I liked fishing. I admit that I knew nothing about camping and canoeing when we met. But I did know fishing. And the other stuff... well, I was game to try.

This is me, below, in early spring 1985. Hubby and I had started dating a few months before. We planned to go trout fishing on the Easter weekend. The weather in Ottawa had been beautiful and warm for weeks; we had no idea that there would be so much snow in the hills overlooking Brudenell Creek in the Ottawa Valley. I'm wearing Hubby's rain gear here. You could call this outfit an early example of colour blocking, I think. No fish to be had that day. Still, I look like I'm having a good time. Must have been love, eh?

Fishing in the snow. Brudenell Creek 1986. Streamside chic.

This is me in 1987. Hubby and I were fishing for brook trout in a beaver dam. I think I look quite fetching in my hip waders. Actually they were Hubby's boots. He bought me my own for Christmas a few years later. 

Beaver Dam fishing 1980's. Streamside chic.

Fishing isn't all sunshine and roses. There have been days when it's rained. Hard. And I've been soaked. And days when the bugs were biting, but the fish weren't. Yep, there have definitely been days like that.

But then there have also been those once in a lifetime days. This is the big, big fish that I caught in the Yukon in 2006. Oh. My. God. That was hard to reel in. The guide kept yelling at me..."Keep your rod tip up! Keep your rod tip up!" And I kept gritting my teeth and replying..."I'm trying. I'm trying." We'd been fishing since 6:30 in the morning, and I was pooped. And I couldn't feel my arms anymore. The picture says it all, actually. By the way...this was a catch and release lake. And the guy holding the fish is not Hubby; that's Doug, our guide.

My big fish. Yukon 2006 Streamside chic.

Most fishing days are not as fraught as that day in the Yukon. I much prefer a quiet lake in Algonquin Park, just me and Hubby, our Kevlar canoe, and a nice cup of tea. This is a shot of an early morning fish on Booth Lake in Algonquin Park in 2010. In order to get me out of my sleeping bag and into the canoe at a time that Hubby considers reasonable and I consider the crack of dawn, he uses bribery. Fresh muffins and a thermos of tea. And the promise that I can read my book once the trolling lines are set. I do love fishing. Just not as much as Hubby loves it. 

Lolling and fishing and sipping tea. Booth Lake 2010. Streamside chic.

So you see, fishing and camping, and even well-drilling, that's the other half of my life. The "wilderness" part, not the "high heels" part. And that's where the name of my blog originated. One half of me loves clothes and make-up and obsesses over my hair and the other half just wants to get down and dirty, so to speak. You might say that one half of me lives at the mall... and the other half in the bush. 

I started thinking about writing this post when I saw that shot of Karlie Kloss in Vogue. And I began to think I should explain to readers of my blog where the title High Heels in the Wilderness originated. So now you know. 

The shot below was taken on the Bonnechere River. One hot, hot July day in 2011. This is me doing my impression of Katharine Hepburn in African Queen. 

Every fishing fashionista need a parasol, don't you think? 

It's the very epitome of streamside chic.

Katharine Hepburn on the Bonnechere. Streamside chic.

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