There’s nothing better than exploring your own home.

This weekend my boyfriend and I drove up the sea to sky highway to Whistler.  The drive always takes my breath away.  Mountains and deep valleys surround the road and the air gets cleaner and crisper with every winding turn.

The rain poured heavily when we got there so we spent less time exploring outside, and more time relaxing, cooking up some great meals, and enjoying some live music and drinks at an Irish pub in the village.

As I said to my boyfriend, “It is so nice just to be able to live in the moment.”

Now that I’m home I find I’m not always trying to look forward to what’s to come.  I’m savoring every simple moment.  Tasting my food again.  Enjoying the way red wine swirls in a glass.  My first cup of tea each morning. Feeling a warm hand wrapped with mine.

We drove home Sunday and stopped at one of my favorite shops, Gourmet Warehouse, an emporium of gourmet food and cooking and baking equipment.  I left with some fire roasted peppers, some honey dijon mustard and a fresh curry spice mixture.

The day continued with a stop at Ikea for kitchen equipment and a couple of nice things from the apartment, a stop in Little India for some spices and a final stop at Whole Foods to buy some fresh prawns and vegetables for dinner.

I love getting my hands dirty in the kitchen again, cooking and baking to my heart’s content.  I burnt my arm making a lemon tart this weekend, but it was so tart, light and flakey, that I am wearing my new baking scar with pride.

I am making myself at home for the first time in years.  It feels good.

I have a desk set up and am going to get going with my book,  I have another interview today, and I am planning on taking this blog in many new directions.  I want to explore Vancouver and what it has to offer, capture a taste of the Olympics and so some fun new video segments.

I feel like I have room to grow in this city, and even though I plan on staying still, I know I’m going places.

My first tarte au citron.  See recipe here.

Whistler mountain, home of the 2010 Olympic games!

Salad with candied walnuts and balsamic glaze

Serving up wild sockeye salmon

Gourmet Warehouse

What would you like to see in upcoming posts?  More recipes, beauty, health, videos or fashion?

As the airplane touched down on the Vancouver runway I felt a sense of relief.

Home.  At last.

I sat beside a former flight attendant who was coming home from a cruise.  I told her my story.  I told her how excited I was to see my boyfriend because I had to tell somebody.

When the plane landed she motioned for me to move ahead of her and her husband, “You have important things to do,” she said, “go ahead.”

He was waiting for me with a big grin and I fell into his arms with ease.  I wrapped myself in his familiar warmth and smell and knew that I was finally home.

Being back in Vancouver feels right.  The Pacific Ocean and the great mountains remind me of natural beauty, while this slow moving city is picking up its pace with the Olympics coming any day now.

I was going to spend my first few days here doing nothing at all, but I am my mother’s daughter and I like to keep busy.  I’ve been cooking, baking, organizing, joining a gym, and yesterday I visited my brother and had my first job interview.

I’m determined not to spend the rest of my life as a waitress and am applying for TV jobs so that I can pursue my dreams.  I want to be proud of what I do, to use my brain, my people skills and my creative talent on a daily basis.

Right now, anything feels possible.  I have a place to call my own. My suitcase unpacked.  A wonderful man that loves me so much he surprised me with fancy new baking equipment and a gift certificate for my favourite organic grocery store (he knows me too well).

Tonight we’re heading further up into the mountains to see Whistler before the Olympics take over.

I’m excited to watch this city transform and will be capturing a lot of the action through my blog.

It might not be Paris, but it’s home, at last.

Welcome home gift. And yes, that is French butter.

Staples at our place

Kale, black bean and corn salad with fresh salsa and bean dip

Vancouver getting proud

As soon as the plane took off I felt my worries lift.

I did it.  I survived six months in Paris with a dream, a small budget, a long distance relationship and a big open heart.

The end was the hardest.  The only way I could describe how I felt was broken.  My heart hurt, my body ached from the cold and my self confidence was holding on by a string.  Before my mom came to visit, I had two euros left in my pocket and everything to lose.

But the clouds outside wrapped their arms around me as the plane took off from Paris.

I am so lucky I can do this, I thought.

I arrived in my first destination, Toronto, to my smiling aunt.  I spent an evening with my cousin and the next day we all went out and had our hair done together.  It’s amazing what a little hair dye can do for your self esteem.

Then I jumped on the subway to the city to see Mary, the angel I lived with during my last semester of school last year.  We hugged, talked, I made dinner and we shared some wonderful locally bottled wine.

Mary spent years living out of a suitcase, travelling everywhere from Mexico to Turkey, doing everything from selling posters to working on an avocado farm.  She exudes warmth and love and makes me feel like everything will be okay as long as I keep my heart open.

After dinner she dropped me at the train station and I hopped on the late train to my grandparents.  Even though it was 11:30 p.m. when I arrived, my grandfather was waiting at the station with a grin, and my grandmother was sitting at home waiting with a fresh batch of Irish bread for me to try.  When I embraced her at the door tears welled up in her eyes.

I spent yesterday baking granola bars, homemade Almond Joy chocolates and making a dinner of Cajun tilapia with an orange salsa, broccoli, and a salad with blackcurrant vinaigrette.  We even hit up the local Walmart and antique fair for a little outing.

Now it’s six in the morning and I sit in my grandmother’s kitchen with a few slices or her Irish bread on the plate beside me.  I feel so at peace.  My heart, that was falling apart, is carefully being put back together.  I feel like I hit a low but now I’m climbing back up with extra strength.

Tomorrow night I will reach my ultimate high as the airplane flies over the mountains and descends into Vancouver.  Home.

My love and the next stage in my life await me.

My grandma and her favourite toy

Homemade Almond Joy and peanut butter granola bars

Cajun tilapia

Poppie ready for dinner

My grandmother’s ultimate baking cupboard

A good sense of humour