She writes:

In a treeplanting camp, we all meet people who profoundly change our lives. You met your husband. I met a dear friend.

My BFF, Meg, and I met on crew near Prince George in the early ’90′s. Let’s just say that if we were both single lesbians, I definitely would have asked her out on a date. The fact that Meg spells Gem backwards just about says it all. Never did I meet anyone who was so darn likable, smart, brave, generous, creative, empathic and generally awesome. When Meg and I planted, we were Amazon women reincarnate who wore our “Invincible Misfits” badges on our sleeves. You know what I mean. Meg planted for a year or two longer than I did and eventually started teaching writing at Vanier College in Montréal. We became mamas at the same time. Twice. She was a writer, too, married to Andy Brown of Conundrum Press. It was actually Meg’s sister Kate who sent me your book last winter much to my jubilant anticipation knowing that Meg would have been thrilled, too, of your publication.

Now comes the sad part: Meg died in January 2011 from advanced breast cancer at the age of 43. In large part, she blamed the cancer on being exposed to so many [name your poison]-icides that she worked with during those silvicultural halcyon days. Who really knows? I’m sure many, if not all, of the chemicals the tree nurseries generously shower onto those wimpy seedlings are highly carcinogenic. Of course, we didn’t all get sick. Maybe it is just those gemstone souls who are born with the wrong genes for this poisonous world who succumb to cancer.

I share this, in part, because I know you can relate to the tragic aspects of the log planting industry. You recall the quips: “We’ll all be suffering prematurely from horrible ailments such as arthritis.” as we try to unfurl The Claw…or “Those sprays are so toxic we’ll probably all get cancer.”

Sigh. Those effin chemicals.

One of Meg’s favorite life experiences was the indisputably formative work of planting trees. Despite the fact that we were knowingly cogs in the wheels of deforestation, she was still a committed environmentalist who embraced the complicated intermingling of nature and culture that so characterizes the tree planting world. Able to flaunt our strength by tapping into our hominid self, we could simultaneously spar with Nietzsche or some other dead white guy, while wading through dense slash and screefing the b’jesus out of the land.

COURTENAY Wednesday, January 30
North Island College Write Here Readers Series | 7:00 pm
Stan Hagen Theatre, Comox Valley Campus| 250.334.5271

CAMPBELL RIVER Sunday, February 3
Museum at Campbell River | 1:00 pm
470 Island Highway | 250.287.3103

CAMPBELL RIVER Monday, February 25
North Island College Write Here Readers Series | Noon
NIC Theatre, Campbell River Campus| 250.334.5271

I’m this winter’s writer-in-residence at the Haig-Brown House in Campbell River on Vancouver Island. This heritage farmhouse was once the home of Roderick Haig-Brown, naturalist and writer, and his family. To discover more about this historic regional treasure, visit the Haig-Brown House online.

For writer-in-residence inquiries, send an email here.