Joanne Campbell

Joanne Campbell is many things but mathematician is not one of them. She is pleased, however, to be able to count herself lucky. She is also publisher of Northword Magazine.

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Zombie Fighters Grow Here

🕔Jul 31, 2015

I’d been feeling rather grumpy about the world.

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Work to live…or live to work?

🕔Oct 02, 2013

There are two types of modern day pioneer that make their way here in north-central BC.

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What Colour is Happiness?

🕔Apr 02, 2014

Driving home from work I travel the back road; it’s long and straight with fallow fields fringed with forest on either side.

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What brings you home?

🕔Nov 24, 2015

What brought you here, to this place you call home?

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Wait for it…

🕔Mar 29, 2013

Ah, spring! The season of birth and revelation and renovation. Most of all, spring—around these parts anyway—is the season of......wait for it..... waiting.

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Time to Put Me Out to Pasture

🕔May 31, 2016

On days when work and life and everything that’s crazy in the universe converge at a singularity inside my head, I get overwhelmed to the point of having trouble speaking.

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The three Rs of pest control

🕔Jun 01, 2015

Pest: “A destructive insect or other animal that attacks crops, food, livestock, etc.” Also, “An annoying person or thing; a nuisance.”

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The sweet, simple life: bikes, tomatoes and putting down roots

🕔Aug 04, 2014

If there is one through-line in this issue of Northword it surely reflects the quote above: at its heart, it’s about our search for simplicity, and for that which is necessary and real.

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There’s something in the water

🕔Jun 01, 2012

Living here is exhausting. And that’s a good thing! I find that there is no such thing as a quiet weekend or a take-it-easy week—and it’s not just me! Most of the people I know are so busy this time of year it can be a challenge to pin them down for the next event.

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🔍Read Full ArticleThe Paradox of Anyox—New hope springs from old mine site

The Paradox of Anyox—New hope springs from old mine site

🕔Mar 27, 2015

What does it feel like to stand in the middle of a slagheap? To climb around the innards of an old-but-not-forsaken dam? Or to pick your way across a falling-down power plant whose crumbling floors could swallow you with nary a burp?

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