The author is of settler and Algonquin heritage, She lives in British Columbia. According to her father, when she first arrived on the planet, the bagpipes caused her to weep uncontrollably. Her grandson rocks the pipes now, and thankfully, she’s gotten over that.
Her colourful work history includes being an outreach worker, a carpenter’s helper, a terrible short order cook, an okay waiter and a bartender who understood that a dry martini meant just a few drops of vermouth, or none. She taught first aid for a while, worked in dozens of offices and on a few factory floors, including a packaging facility for plastic wrap. That job ended when she stuck her hand in a pot of hot glue near the end of her third shift. She’s quick to point out it was the middle of the night. Fortunately, she already had the first aid training—and the promise of another, less treacherous job.