Laura – 2nd Avenue

Selected short reading (vol. 8)

My consumption of short pieces has dropped substantially since completing my Post-Graduate Diploma in Creative Writing a couple years back. Makes sense as I’m no longer required to keep a reading journal and critically evaluate short-form pieces. I’ve also slowed (maybe even halted?) my own fiction writing, meaning I’m no longer prowling publications I might want to submit to — and seeing other people’s writing.

But I have collected a few short bits to share over the last few months. There’s no theme tying these together, just pieces I’ve liked.

It’s just like riding a bike

Laura with her first (and only) race bike on Vancouver’s Lions Gate Bridge

Like most suburban kids, I grew up riding a bike (photo of Little Laura and her big glasses below for proof!). Then periodically cycled to friends’ houses and school and things as a teenager. And promptly forgot all about all things bike-related after moving to Edmonton for university.

When we lived in North Vancouver, Tony and I counted several strong cyclists amongst our close friends. Those friends and a truely awesome bike shop (shout out to Obsession: Bikes) prompted me to get a serious bicycle, complete with clip-in pedals (which proved to be the bane of my cycling existence) and proper kit. (If you look closely the jersey in the photo of me and my Trek on the Lions Gate Bridge says “North Shore Triathlon Club”, which is how we were introduced to the aforementioned strong cyclists we still call friends).

Belonging and the ballot

It’s election day in Canada!

Somewhat sadly, I’ll miss out on actually going to the polls as I mailed my ballot from Denmark a while ago. Assuming PostNord and Canada Post have done their work, my vote is in Ottawa, where it will be counted alongside ones from other international electors, those serving in the military, and people voting from outside their electoral districts (all of whom submit what are known as ‘special ballots’).

Ducking the US

Before the current administration imposed tariffs on Canadian goods (and those from Mexico and China) and President Trump took to calling Prime Minister Trudeau ‘Governor’ (and threatening to make Canada, Greenland, and Panama part of the States), I wanted to create some distance from the US. Initially, my motivation was related to gun violence and then to the first Trump presidency—and now there’s even more reason to stay away and spend money elsewhere.

Here’s how I’ve been voting with my dollars over the last few years and how I’m stepping up avoiding US-based goods and services. It takes effort and mindfulness and I am not absolutist in my approach (well, other than bourbon, Levis, and Harley Davidson). I’m not suggesting my self-imposed limits are right for anyone else (case in point: my other half sometimes enjoys a little bourbon) or judging others’ purchasing decisions (loving Tar-jay or Val-de-Mart is not something to feel guilty about), but making thoughtful choices makes me feel a tiny bit better about the state of the world and my role in it.

Making 180 days more comfy

Part of the relocation package when we’ve moved with Tony’s work is a place to live upon arrival. This not only gives us somewhere to lay our heads, but also facilitates the necessary immigration admin like registering with local authorities (essential for Germany, Switzerland, and Denmark), getting set up with bank accounts, and all the rest.

When we moved to Switzerland and the UK, the company provided temporary accommodation (basically an Airbnb) for a month. The apartments are furnished (interior designers for such corporate housing tend to be fans of faux leather sofas) and include the basics (bedding and towels, rudimentary kitchen equipment, a TV), but lack any sense of homeyness.

A colourful blanket and socks in the foreground with a window behind. Looks very cosy and comfy — A bit of cosiness in our temporary flat

With this move to Denmark, we get three months accommodation, which is great—and a long time to live somewhere relatively soul-less.

After a few relocations, we’ve learnt to pack a few beyond-basic items that make everyday life more comfortable. Here’s what we brought this time around…

Starting again (again)

The author (Laura) grinning with a Christianshavn canal and clear blue skies in the background. Showing how delightful it is to be back in Denmark. — Hej fra Christianshavn! Det er dejligt at være tilbage i Danmark! (*Hello from Christianshaven! It’s delightful to be back in Denmark!*)

Another (much welcome) relocation. Another temporary flat (thankfully quite comfortable). Another monsoon of admin (visas, residency registrations, bank accounts, insurance, it feels like the list never ends).

New streets to learn. New transit options to figure out (so many Metro stops opened in 2024!). New paths to explore (and familiar ones to retread).