In the slightly more than three years that I have known her, I have a lot of things for which to thank Carley.
After all, had it not been for her, my music library would be much thinner, I would never have gone camping again in my life, and I wouldn't have been half the places I have been (I probably wouldn't even be living in Barrie).
But, at this moment, the thing that strikes me as her most significant contribution to my life would be her love of reading.
I have never really been a big reader; I mean, they force it on you so much in school, it's hard to work up the desire to read for one's own enjoyment. I've read Animal Farm, The Stanger, The Prince, and a host of Shakespeare plays - some gladly, some not so much - but in almost all the cases, it's been for one project or another.
That was then, this is now. At the moment, I am reading three books (one in Orangeville, one in Barrie, one in the car, for whenever I stop anywhere and have some time to kill). I have three more on the back burner. I believe, very deeply, that Carley (with a little help from Terry Pratchett) has had a profound effect on my rediscovered love of literature.
(Once I run out of books, I will be looking for more suggestions however, so just keep that in mind.)