For some of you who don't know, this is my final editorial for the Humboldt Journal, as I'll be moving back to Halifax next week to get married in August, settle down and make a life along the East coast.
For the past little while, I've been contemplating how to write this final editorial; how to say goodbye.
Some people give quick goodbyes; a small slap on the shoulder and a pursed-lipped 'See ya'. Others have long, drawn-out emotional farewells, full of lung-collapsing bear hugs and heavy sighs of sadness.
I'm not really sure which is better; if it's quick, maybe it's less painful but there's so much I have to say. I mean, where do I begin?
It's only been a year, which is a blip on the timeline compared to my predecessor's tenure at the Journal, which lasted about 13 years.
And yet, I feel as though I've been here longer than 12 months.
When we first got jobs out this way, who am I to lie, a lot of my friends raised an eyebrow and wondered why we'd leave a big city for Humboldt, Saskatchewan.
"There isn't anything to do out there," said one friend.
"Can't you just wait until you find something in a bigger city?" Another one suggested.
Of course, we laughed these off, packed up the U-Haul and our two cats, one of whom slept like a little cherub in his carrier for the whole three days we were on the road, the other protesting by meowing, hissing, squawking and snarling for an entire day and a half before resigning to her fate and curling up at the back of her crate in an angry lump.
When we pulled into Humboldt after our long cross-country trek, I was pleasantly surprised by its size (not too small at all), by the people (very friendly) and by the variety of places to eat (yes, including the fast food joints).
We had our first meal at Chick Allen's (Rest in Peace) and I remember the waitress there sarcastically asking us a signature question as newbies to this Prairie town.
"You're from Ottawa? Well, how d'ya like Humboldt?"
I like many things about Humboldt.
I like the still summer nights when the stars pop out like crystals on a black cloth, when all you can hear is the sounds of crickets and a cool breeze blowing between the thickets nearby.
I like the sound of the train rumbling through town in the early morning, before anyone has gotten up and the fact that you can walk to work, to the 7-Eleven, to the museum and yes, if you really wanted to, even to the Quill Centre and people will say hi to you just because.
I love the hole-in-the-wall stores and restaurants that are locally owned and operated, some for generations. I also love the bigger-box stores that moved into this city but remain anything but disconnected from community ventures and events taking place.
I'm thankful for many things to; for my co-workers, who quickly became like family and helped me and Braedon settle into Humboldt seamlessly.
I'm thankful for Wanda Price at the SPCA, who let us supervise every Sunday night at the shelter and introduced us to two future pets, Elvis, our Border Collie we-don't-know-what-he-is-mutt and Mum, our third cat and Elvis' Tweedle Dee to his Dum.
I'm thankful for people like Jennifer Hoesgen at the museum, Jennifer Brooks at City Hall, all the councilors and staff there, Marguerite Cunningham of the Seniors Hall, Rev. Al Hingley of the Legion, members of the BID, Dave Atamanchuk of DUC and so many others who helped me out with background information for stories that otherwise, would have easily floundered.
I'm thankful for all those who contributed photos of veterans for our Remembrance Day issue, stories for our Halloween features, letters to the editor almost weekly, whether you liked something I wrote or absolutely despised it and wanted to run me out of town. I'm even thankful for the Roses.and yes, Raspberries too, I suppose.
I've written things that people loved and laughed at; I've written things that really provoked the ire of some and filled up my office voicemail with angry messages. Whether we agreed on something or not, I always appreciated people talking to me and hope our readers will continue to have that open dialogue when our new editor, Kelly Friesen, takes over next week.
There's nothing like the relationship between reader and paper; we value your opinion and readership, and I for one am excited to see what is in store for the Journal because this new era will continue on and our paper will strive to bring you the news and what you need to know, no matter what it is.
With new things on the horizon for Humboldt (Humboldt Commons, the revamping of the St. Elizabeth's property, the BID working away at the downtown, subdivisions popping up and yes, maybe even a Walmart), this is only the beginning and the best is yet to come for Humboldt, and the Journal.
So thank you to everyone -all of you - who made my time here absolutely worth the move. No matter where I end up in life, like an actor always remembers the first part he landed, and an NHL player keeps the puck from the first goal he scored, I'll always remember my first real, gritty step into journalism, at the Humboldt Journal.
Guess I picked the second way to say goodbye.
CM
