Pictures

Flowers blooming in Barbara and Terry's flat on Dec. 19, 2010

The full moon through the trees in their back yard at around 10:30 p.m. on Dec. 20, 2010

The eclipse beginning, magnified as much as my digital can

A bit later

And later

As late as I went.  The sky was clouding over and so were my eyes, and I was losing interest in the programme about Christianity, Islam and Judaism that I had been watching to keep me awake.

The Great Outdoors

I’ve just returned to mom and dad’s apartment after walking along the ocean into the village of Oak Bay.  The wind and salt spray were exhilarating.  I’m known for being forgetful and speaking hyperbolically, so take that into consideration when I say that it was one of the 2 wildest winds I’ve ever walked in. The other was also on Vancouver Island a few years ago when Jim and I went with mom and dad on a brief holiday up the west coast of the island.  In Courtney it was blowing so hard Jim could hardly open the car door.  Mom and dad stayed inside and we walked along the municipal dock in a gale that almost ripped the hair off our heads.  It was the same wind today.  I had to wash the salt off my glasses when I got back and my cheeks and ears are still tingling.  I love wild weather, and I’m glad that I have such short hair now it looks better the more it’s blown around. 

Speaking of hair reminds me of Jay.  I talked with him on Skype this morning at 6:00 a.m. as always.  I mentioned that his hair looked good, and he laughed and said that the kids were starting to call him grandma because his hair gets curly as it grows long and in Korea the only people with curly hair are women of a certain age who get perms.  So now I look like a 20 something Korean man, because they often have hair my length and dyed slightly red like mine, and he looks like a Korean grandma.  I was glad to hear that the South Koreans are staying calm throughout this period of tension.  Their war games with the U.S. were delayed by fog, which Jay said was very thick in the morning, but they are going on now.  The North has finally declared that they aren’t going to retaliate.  The fact that their big Chinese ally is less than eager to back them might have something to do with that. 

The wind continues to whip around the yard and the sky remains grey, so I don’t think we’ll see the eclipse of the moon on this night before the winter solstice.  I had hoped we would.  It was very windy and cloudy early yesterday afternoon but by about 3:30 it had calmed down and the sun came out.  I was walking by the ocean when it cleared.  Half a rainbow touched the horizon and Mount Baker was suddenly there, bright white across the water with a round cloud moon rising on its left.  It was spectacular.  But it doesn’t look as if that will happen today.

Tomorrow, a new latch will be installed on the hatch back, and the Mazda will be ready for the road again.  WD 40 turned out to be a temporary solution only.

It’s almost 10 p.m., I’m back at Barbara and Terry’s and the sky has cleared.  I’m going to post this blog and try to think of something else to keep me awake until midnight because the sky is clear at the moment and I’m hoping to watch the eclipse.  

On the ferry

It's a grey day with a dark and white capped sea, and I'm happy to be inside at a computer terminal.  All systems are working except Skype which says I am not connected to the internet, but I am because I just downloaded an enormous photo file from Paula.  The girl's got talent; she managed to get at least 2 pictures of me, Bill, mom and dad in which we all look like people you might want to meet.

I left Bert and Peg's at 9:03 and felt proud of the fact that I was on time and firing on all 6 cylinders.  But I soon reverted to my default position.  I decided that I would do what I always do to get myself going on a kind of big move, take the line of least resistance to begin with.  That involved going to the Tim Horton's that I know best and is closest to Bert's, filling up my going away mug and buying a multigrain, egg, bacon and cheese bagel.  I didn't even risk parking in the Tim's lot which was crowded with caffeine starved late workers.  I left my car nearby and enjoyed the walk.  I stood in line and stared into space.  I heard the man in front of me order pancakes and thought that I had never heard of pancakes at a Tim's.  I looked up and saw a big yellow M, except more rounded, and slowly clued in that I was in MacDonald's.  I left and wandered a bit farther down the line of generic buildings to the real Tim Horton's, picked up my order and returned to the car knowing that things weren't looking good for the success of the trip.  But all went well.  There was a blanket of low cloud over the lanky snow-laden conifers as I approached the highest point on the 97 connector between Kelowna and Merritt, so I decided to pull in behind a transport that I had been watching.  It seemed to be either deadheading or lightly laden because it was going up hills quite quickly.  It was good I did that because very soon after the cover became a duvet and we were driving blind through it. I just stayed behind my big buddy  and made it through the section around the Brendon Mine without a hitch.  By the time we got to Merritt, the sky was clear and the highway dry.  The road after that had some sandy slushy parts, and I now have the dirtiest car on the ferry, but all went well until I made a wrong turn off Hwy.10 and on toHwy. 99 just before the ferry dock.  I got off  99 as quickly as I could.  I was in  a Mercedes dealership in White Rock.  A nice young man got me back on track, and I was parked in the ferry line by 2:30.  Now I'm on the 3:00 p.m. ferry to Victoria.  The rest should be smooth sailing, and I'm feeling pretty confident about getting around the city this time.

Back behind the wheel

Tomorrow just after 9:00 a. m. I will pull out of Bert and Pegs' garage and head to Victoria for Christmas with mom and dad and Barbara and Terry.  So far the roads here look a lot better than the ones around Sarnia that I saw on the news last night.  Heavy fog on the highway that connects Kelowna to Merritt seems to be the only foreseeable road problem.  Just in case, I'm going to be prepared as never before with sleeping bag, water, food, candles, matches, flashlight and even a cell phone.  I filled the gas tank and washed the car, a pre trip ritual with Jim, and it was then that I discovered the only possible spanner in the works.  The little red light indicating that a door is open is constantly illuminated.  I shut and re shut all the doors before phoning Mazda to see if that little light might run down the battery overnight.  The guy in the Service Department was thorough and only slightly patronizing, recounting how his wife had a similar problem but an inside light was on as well as the dash indicator light and the battery did die.  So when we get home from dinner with Jules and Carol I will check to make sure that no interior lights are on.  When I get to Victoria I will make an appointment with the Mazda dealer there; they did the 16,000 km checkup and put on the winter tires, so I know the place.  I hope I don't have to get to know them any more intimately.

I don't have a Mastercard to leave home with because mine was 'compromised' when I was shopping in Calgary with Jo.  They sent a new one which arrived by Canada Post courier today but nobody was home so now it is going back to the post office and I will have to pick it up when I get back from Victoria.  I've become quite addicted to it, but I can cope, I hope.  I'm getting better at that.

Time has elapsed since I began this blog, and I am now praising Bert and WD40.  He came by, and I told him about the door problem.  After a squirt of WD40 and one small panic on my part about how the hatch opens, all is well.  The dash light is off and now we leave for dinner with Jules and Carol.

More anon

Pictures

The hotel I stayed in and my shadow on the beach at sunrise

Another resident at the hotel, an agoutis eating a child's dropped ice cream cone

The Mayan Bill Couch explains some interesting differences between the bloodless Mayan ball game and the gory Aztec one

Here he drums with the musicians in the Mayan house/shop

Here he stands in front of a Mayan house beside the traditional log bee hives and makes one of his many arguments for Mayan pacifism, even the bees don't have stingers

The pyramid at Coba.  

The view from the top across the flat Yucatan

The cenote

A sandpiper's track by a small shell on the beach

Ina and Ted at lunch with me in their hotel

The Mayans are a peaceful people, unlike the Aztecs

I've returned neither with my sword nor on it.  I had no need of either on the Mayan Riviera; the Mayans are a peaceful people, unlike the Aztecs. That was the leitmotif, at times more heavy than light, of our guide on the trip to Coba, the site of Mayan ruins, including a pretty high pyramid.  Everyone I talked with on the tour agreed that he was the best guide we had ever had.  Only I knew; however, that he was the Mayan Bill Couch.  There must be an ideal Couch, and I have now met 2 of the shadows walking the earth at this moment in time.  He looked like Bill, the same Buddha body but with skin a bit darker than Bill's when he's really tanned; taught like Bill, committed to his subject and full of information, funny at times, a bit long winded at others but impossible to ignore and acted like Bill, jumping in to drum with the musicians in the Mayan house and serve with the waiters at the restaurant where we ate the Mayan chicken that he had described so enthusiastically at 9:30a.m. and we didn't sit down to until 3:00p.m.  It was such a crazy experience that I finally had to tell him how much he made me think of my husband's friend.  He just squinted up his eyes and gave me an expression I'm sure I've seen on Bill's face.  Then he went on to repeat that the Mayans are a peaceful people whose whole culture is based on water and corn, not like the warrior Aztecs whose rituals all revolve around blood.  It was a great tour that took all day and involved visiting a Mayan village; swimming in a cenote, a limestone cave full of fresh water,  and climbing a pyramid.  If I had had eyes in the back of my head, I never would have done the latter, but I don't.  I went right up without looking back.  I was a bit hot and winded when I got to the top, but what took my breath away and made my legs wobble was turning around.  I had to sit down for a full 5 minutes to regain my composure.  I took some pictures just to prove I had done it and then carefully approached the edge and went all the way down on my bum.

That was the only tour I took.  For the rest of the time I rented bikes and rode around the area and into the town of Playa del Carmen.  The girl in charge of bikes, if you can imagine anyone being in charge of such a sorry collection, was a hoot.  She was made up as if she were going to a cotillion, with eyelashes so curled and mascaraed they looked painful, but she was helpful and funny.  She called them 'bicicletas mexicanas, feas,' and did her best to help me find the least ugly of the bunch.  It was hard to do because  every part that should have been chrome was rust.  And of course they had no gears, but the Yucatan is as flat as Holland.  Perhaps that explains why there were so many Dutch people both on my plane down and at the hotel.

One of the most pleasant couples I met all week was partly Dutch.  Their table was beside mine in the buffet restaurant on the first night.  Being 'sola', I was doing what I'm getting better at I hope, looking composed and appearing to be quite happy to be alone while listening to and watching everyone within the range of my senses.  He looked Oriental but he sounded Dutch.  I knew that throaty guttural sound; I'd been listening to it since before our plane took off in Calgary.  Finally, I just leaned over a bit and said, " May I ask a stupid question?"  "Are you Dutch?"  He laughed and said, "Yes."  And so began our first conversation.  He was born in Korea but knows nothing about it because he was orphaned and almost immediately adopted by a Dutch couple.  He has lived all his life in Holland.  His wife is Italian.  They met while travelling, married and now have a son, Noel, who was born just before Christmas last year.  They both spoke English, she better than he, so we met and talked quite a few times after that, about Jay's teaching in Korea; travelling; the tensions between the two Koreas at the moment; juggling jobs and kids and about having a child rather late in life, they were both 35, about the same age Jim and I were when we had Jay,which seemed old to us at the time but looks young now.  I had my last dinner at the hotel with them and another couple that we both knew.  This couple also shared a Korean connection.  They live in  Sparwood, B.C. and their son married a Korean woman, so they have a grandson that looks a lot like Noel.

In the evenings, I usually went to the bar to sip a white Russian, and there I talked with a pretty hard drinking couple from Calgary who were travelling with their four children, ranging in age from sixteen to ten.  The gang was often all there and the bartender was a really funny guy who kept us all entertained with tricks and concocted for the kids some of the sweetest drinks using chocolate, red syrup and whipped cream that I have ever seen.  He made pretty good white Russians too, and sometimes I took a second one back to my room to drink as I watched CNN en espanol.

 I spent much of the time on my own, swimming in the ocean, reading, watching CNN en espanole, riding Mexican bikes and walking.  I walked in to Playa del Carmen twice to have lunch with Ina and Ted.  It was really good to know at least 2 people in the area.  On my second last day, after lunch, Ina and I went shopping.  She's as good as Jim used to be at pointing out things that might look good on me but that I would have walked right by in an effort to get back out on the street.  We had fun and got some real deals.

Getting together with Joanne in Calgary to sip wine, eat and have a chat was a very good way of beginning and ending the trip.  Bert met me at the airport when I arrived in Kelowna last night, and he and Peg and I had wine, dinner and a talk.  I'm now at home in their place 'putting the ducks in order', as Jim used to say and preparing to drive to Victoria next Thursday for Christmas with mom and dad and Barbara and Terry.

Hasta el proximo

The "Globe and Mail" didn't make it to Kelowna on Saturday.  The people at the Mac's where I get mine had no idea why.  Having missed my Sat. ritual of buying the 'Globe' and taking it to a coffee shop to enjoy with my one cup of caffeine for the week, I tried again on Sunday.  Imagine my joy when I reached for the "Globe", found it to be thick and discovered it was the Saturday one on Sunday.  Again, nobody could explain why. I'm still curious to find out what happened, but; whatever, I spent a good hour  at The Second Cup getting wired on news and real coffee.  The first section I open is 'Style', but only for the horoscope.  Jim always read the 'A' section first and then 'Style.'  He was the sartorial member of the marriage.  He read Beppi Crosariol and Leah McLaren; I think he was first attracted to her picture but then enjoyed her writing.  I left wine to him, and as Leah's picture didn't instantly get my attention and I often found her column a bit cloying, I left that to him too.  She's now in the Art's section, I think.  "The Globe" has gone glossy and changed a lot lately.  The part I like to read most and always have read first is 'Focus', Doug Saunders is my man, then the 'A' section and 'Arts' and 'Books.'  I go into this detail because it's part of a subject that fascinates me at the moment.  What things that Jim and I always did do I still do?  What do you do when you're on your own?  Of course, would I do even these things had I not spent years with him?  That, I will never know.  It's as futile as wondering if a falling tree makes a noise when it lands if nobody's there to hear it. Although I thought the Saturday 'Globe' tradition might fade away, it hasn't.  However, it used to involve some kind of sweet bun or muffin of my making, which it no longer does.  I'm not cooking as I used to and I never bake now.  Jim's favourite breakfast was always a sweet bun and I spent hours of my life baking such things.  Now I discover I prefer cereal with fruit and nuts, except on Saturday when I long for a cinnamon bun, which is very hard to find.  I have gone to three different coffee places in Kelowna and not found a good one yet.  I wonder if Gabe has them at Grounded?  If he does, I'm sure they're good; the lunch I had there before I left Ottawa certainly was.

I continue to enjoy a long walk every day.  Today the sun was bright, and I went along Mission Creek again.  As usual, the geese were in the air, honking between lake and orchard.  Peg says they spend the day at the dump, but I can't accept that.  It's bad enough that their sound is losing it's enchanting rarity, but to think that I might have to consider them along with rats in the dump is not bearable.

I talked with Jay of Skype this morning as we always do on Mondays, at about 6:30 a.m. my time and 11:30 p.m. his time.  I still am stunned by the fact that I have just been wakened by an alarm, thrown handfuls of cold water on my face to shrink the puffs around my eyes and opened the laptop to see Jay tired after a day's teaching and staying up watching some of his favourite downloaded shows as he waits for my call.  It takes us a while to get talking, which is uncharacteristic for both of us, but there's no rush on Skype.  We slowly adjust and bit by bit remember the things we want to say.  There are also usually moments spent playing with sound levels, pauses and pictures that go wonky.  In a few years or even months at the rate communications are improving, we will probably laugh at this system and remember it as the equivalent of the old ship to shore radios, but it's a wonderful miracle to me at the moment.  Imagine, he's in Korea, and I see and talk to him every week.  He says that Seoul is cold now although hardly below zero and with little snow.  They don't seem to have much in the way of snow removal equipment, and there's nowhere to put the snow anyway.  The streets are narrow and people park everywhere, even double park.  They leave their cellphone numbers clearly on the dashboard for people to phone if they need the car moved.  Jay was given a new smart phone by the school today; you can't leave home without them in Seoul.  Even the kids in grade 2 don't copy the homework from the board; they take a picture of it on their smartphone.   I was happy to hear that the tension between the 2 Koreas is still being taken in stride by most people on the streets of Seoul.

On Tuesday, Nov. 30 I fly to Calgary to spend the night with Jo and  then fly to the Mayan Riviera on Dec. 1.  I just found out that Ina and Ted will be in Playa del Carman for part of the time that I am at the Reef Playacar, which is supposed to be within walking distance of that town; we might get together.  I'm not going to take the laptop, I'm looking forward to a week unplugged.  I'll be back around Dec. 10.  Is that a threat or a promise?

Hasta el proximo, amigos.

Cold

Winter drove into the Okanagan the day after I went up to see the Sovereign Lake Nordic Centre.  I was outraged at first, but now I've walked and driven in it and watched the almost- full moon, solid and white behind the stiff bare branches of the walnut tree; I remember winter and I like it.  I'm glad I bought snow tires in Victoria; I need them.  And I'm going to the Mayan Riviera next week.  I can hardly believe it; I'll be there, a minor hot spot and Jay is in Korea,  where the war that never really was a war has never ended

  I awoke this morning to the sobering news that N. Korea had fired on a tiny island off the N.W. coast of S. Korea, killing at least 2 marines.  The report also mentioned that the people of nearby Incheon, where Jay is living, were frantically buying up all the noodle soups and water they could.  At least this is not a worry.  Jay eats little but the former when he is in his apartment and he's always drinking from a litre bottle of water when we talk on Skype, so I'm sure he'll at least be well stocked with the basics.  It is worrying non-the -less, and I'm trying to get all the information I can.  It seems as if where the Kim Jongs are concerned, if it's an 'ill wind that blows no good,' an 'Un' one isn't much better.  But as my parents said when they heard I was going to Mexico, " If you avoided all the danger spots in the world, you'd never leave your house."    

A hairdresser's salon in Kelowna was a dangerous enough destination for me this morning.  I arrived early as usual and idled my time reading about and looking at great new cuts.  As I always do, I chose one that looked spectacular on a glamorous 20 year old model.  I got exactly what I'd asked for; the hairdresser knew her stuff.  I just didn't hold up my end.  Now I look like what my mother would refer to as a 'peeled eel,' and my ears are freezing.  I paid, put on my head band and left.

After a long walk up good old Knox Mountain and a hot shower, my cheeks are so red you hardly notice the ears, but they still feel over exposed.  On the walk, I was reminded of my Gatineau River home by the smell of woodsmoke and the honking of geese as they flew overhead in their chevrons, where to at this time of year I couldn't imagine.  Bert told me later that they have stayed all winter in the Okanagan for years, flying daily from the lake to the orchards and back.  The nuthatches are also here, flitting from pine to pine making their little pip squeaking noises and bopping head first down the terra cotta black -cracked trunks pecking the bark with their beaks.

I was going to add some pictures but the server was rejected, whatever that means.  I'll try again tomorrow.

Cold

The Doldrums

I'm on dry land, but if I were at sea, I'd be listening to the creaking of the boards.  I'm in the Doldrums and that can be boring, but it does make one think.  You learn a lot about yourself when you live alone, and I haven't  in 38 years, not that you don't discover a few things in marriage too.  After Jim died, I was stunned, too busy to pause and then moving, driving and visiting until the last couple of weeks.  Now, I'm comfortable and resting, but having to kick start my days by making an effort to discover what moves me when I don't have anyone else in the car or the bed or the house. It's a luxury to be so idle and it appears that this is going to be my winter of living frivolously.  I often think I'd rather be back with Jim and teaching, but as that won't happen, I'll indulge myself until I can settle into Vernon and see if I can find some way to work and contribute there.

I remember one of Jim's friends told me that while talking about how they spent their time commuting to work,  he said he listened to certain CDs and Jim thought a while before responding, "I listen to Jan".  That was an exaggeration in the name of humour; we didn't commute together often, but there's no denying that I was always quicker with comments than Jim, so in our conversations, I contributed the quantity if not always the quality.  Now I'm discovering that without Jim's company I'm spending more time at the computer.  I'm so used to saying whatever comes into my head that I'm now writing it.  I'm discovering that some of Jim's judgements of me that I thought were unjust and jumped to contradict when he mentioned are in fact true.  I do often talk without thinking and I don't have a good sense of direction.  I'd like to admit these things to him now when I can't and the only solace I have is that he was so sure he was right in these matters that my admission of them could not possibly have reinforced what was so solidly held.  That's why I contradicted him in the first place.  And if he were here, I know I still wouldn't admit them.  We deserved each other.

I was upset on the morning of Nov. 16 when I phoned to wish dad a Happy 91st Birthday.  My mother who is rattled by the telephone at the best of times was just on the point of calling the doctor.  The phone's ringing threw her into such a panic she could hardly talk when she picked up the receiver. My father was in pain, and they wanted to get him an appointment.  I hung up, let her phone, called back, found they had an appointment for 11:30a.m. and so waited until late afternoon before phoning back to find out what was wrong.  In the interim, I worried about him and wondered whether I would have to cancel my il-starred trip to the Mayan Riviera, first a gas explosion and now my dad's health.  And I hadn't really wanted to go in the first place.  It turned out dad had a bladder infection, and by the time I talked again with them, they had been out to lunch and were preparing to eat some chocolate cake.  The Energizer Bunnies are back.

If you've read this far, you deserve a dark chocolate truffle, but as I can't give you that, here are a couple of pictures.  I finally did get myself into gear today and drove to look at the Sovereign Lake Nordic Centre outside of Vernon.  It was cool in Kelowna when I left, but sunny, and I didn't put a jacket over my sweatshirt.  As you leave Vernon for Silver Star, you begin to climb immediately.  Within about 5km. of the city limits, my ears were popping and the road was wet and dirty with recently dumped sand which sprayed up the car and clouded the rear window.  There was a light dusting of snow on the hillsides which got thicker and thicker until I finally turned off for the 2km drive into the cross country ski area.  By this point, the snow was weighing down the tall thin spruce by the roadside and the road itself was narrow with a surface of hard packed snow lightly sprinkled with sand like a Starbuck's cinnamon latte.  The ploughed banks were fresh and high enough to show tracks where one of 2 passing cars had had to ease over.  The sign at the lodge said that the temperature at 8:30a.m. had been -9.5 and it didn't feel much warmer than that at the time.  It was a sobering experience to be so quickly immersed in winter, and I have to admit I was happy to drive down to fall again and merely look at the brochure I had picked up.  The Mayan Riviera is starting to have more appeal.

But I will come here after I've had a bit more time to adjust to the reality of winter.

 

A day indoors

The weather is nasty, and I haven't been out beyond the small compost pail that Bert left on the stoop.  It's grey, cool and raining.  I was wakened from a deep sleep by the alarm at 6 so that I could Skype with Jay.  I went back to bed to try to sleep but failed.  No amount of cold water thrown at my face could wash away the dullness in my brain, so I've been sitting around all day reading and staring at the computer.  I'm finishing a book, Destination Chungking, that I picked up at my parents last time I was there.  My mom always liked reading books by Han Suyin.  It took me a while to get into it, but now I'm enjoying her very correct, detailed account of her family, her love and her life in the chaotic period in China's history between the fall of the Manchu Dynasty in 1911 and the Japanese invasion of China before WW2.  Now I realize that China will be celebrating the centennial of the former event next year.  Perhaps I'll visit Jay in Korea and go to China.  There's nothing like a day of doing nothing to get the mind wandering.

I looked at hotels in Puerto Vallarta and ruins and snorkling locations on the Mayan Riviera.  As I couldn't find a travelling partner to PV and I couldn't not use the credits I had with Sunwing, I am going to take an all inclusive trip to the Yucatan from Dec.1 to 8.  Originally, I didn't want to do one of those alone, but if Cordula can, so can I.  Now I'm looking forward to it.  The fact that the lobby of a hotel on the Mayan Riviera was blown up yesterday does give me pause, but it was a gas explosion not a drug world assassination, so I don't think it will become a regular event.  I'm going to fly to Puerto Vallarta on Jan.3 and stay until Feb. 14 and then meet the Pollocks and Mela and Don in Hawaii in March, so this is going to be a warm winter, for the most part.  For the moment, I'm very happy to be peacefully settled at Bert and Peg's and looking forward to Christmas in Victoria.

Hasta el proximo

Mission Creek

Like many Canadians, I find myself unable to stay inside if the sun shines on these fall days.  Winter's cold breath is already frosting the windshields in the morning.  I've always found being outside alone or with friends preferable to being inside, weather permitting of course.  Lately I've been mostly alone, but I share Thoreau's sentiment although I'll probably mangle his prose, 'I'd rather sit on a pumpkin and have it to myself than be crowded on a velvet throne."  I've walked every path on Knox Mountain, and in the last while walked and biked along the Mission Creek Greenway.  This morning the sun was bright, so I left after breakfast to walk the last part.  It winds along the creek and up to the highlands above a canyon.  I got to a certain high point and was resting on a bench after about an hour's walk, wondering what to do next when a couple came up.  I did what I've been doing a lot lately, asked them where we were and what was beyond.  They said, 'Layer Cake Hill,' and asked me if I wanted to join them.  I did, and we walked together for another hour and then back.  It was fun, and I enjoyed their company.  Here also I dare to compare myself with Thoreau.  Jim was reading him off and on while we were in the condo, so I took up the book after Jim died.  When I first read Thoreau years ago, I was not impressed.  I thought that he was just vacationing in wilderness life and that he made a big deal out of the fact that he could make 'the earth say beans,' when I knew from my own bit of gardening that there was nothing the earth would rather say.  This time I was not so young and dismissive; I paid more attention to his ideas, many of which are still beyond me, and his expression of them which is often wonderful.  And I wasn't so critical of the fact that Walden was just a walk from the company of people.  I realize now that I am most at home in nature, but it's nice to have some people over every once in a while.

 Layer Cake Hill

Remembrance Day 2010

                                             Jim and Dad, November, 2009

Dad turned 90 on November 16, 2009.  He is a veteran of WW2, a navigator in the R.C.A.F. and a very good father.

                                                                  Jim

The man with whom I fell in love and lived
and laughed and fought
and talked
worked and played
and stayed for almost forty years.
And now in tears
Remember
with other lives that laughed and cried
with wives and lovers
husbands,brothers
fathers, mothers
sisters, friends
through time and beyond.
Tears hot in eyes
to no avail.
They will not rise.
We must.
And do for those alive
what we tried to for the dead
who also did their best.

Monday morning

It's 10:25a.m. new time and the highlight of the day as well as most of the work is over and done.  I talked with Jay on Skype at 6:30 Kelowna time which is now 10:30p.m. Incheon time because they Korea doesn't fall back and spring forward as we do.  I preferred calling him at 7:30.  I know that many people in  Canada are questioning the wisdom of our clockwork calisthenics and I think I will add my name to their number, not that I advocate taking Korea's lead in all aspects of our lives.  Jay's trying to learn the language now; today he told me the word for a woman of a certain age, 'ajjuma'.  He says that the Koreans are very respectful of age and that I would fit right in.  That's at least better than what he told me a couple of weeks ago which was that my hair style resembled that of many young Korean men, short and dyed red. 

As for work, I have almost finished 2 loads of laundry. It's the first time I've done laundry since I was in Victoria.  I'm beginning to think that once I've washed my clothes in a place, it's time to leave.  The other highlight of my day will be to go for a flu shot in the aft. with Bert and Peg.

I went on a different walk yesterday, along the Mission Creek Greenway from the park to Lake Okanagan.  It was longer than I thought it would be and by the end my toes were sore from bumping against the front of my hiking boots.  Pretty minor, considering how beautiful the path was; most of it was covered in fallen poplar leaves.  I think that's why my toes got sore; I kicked my way through the leaves most of the way instead of walking.  Poplar leaves smell almost as wonderful in the fall as the buds do in the spring.

The stuff's in storage

The stuff’s in storage

It’s Thursday, Nov. 4, and Qwest Haven and Pernell have finished the move.  My original belief that they would do so and well had been challenged by my dad’s serious doubts.  I had been willing to take the leap of faith required to go on line, research various moving companies, choose one based on its very good Better Business Bureau ratings and place my possessions in their hands, but to his way of thinking such blind trust in the complete unknown was tantamount to dancing naked in the dessert and expecting it to rain the next day. 

Just after 8 this morning, I scraped the frost off the car windows in the semi dark and drove to Tim Horton’s in Kelowna where I finished my Tim's gift card by ordering coffee and a breakfast bagel.  By the time I got back into the car, the sun was shining.  The drive to Vernon was really pleasant, no traffic and beautiful scenery.  Vernon was still shrouded in mist or low cloud when I pulled into the Storit Place.  Pernell arrived not long after.  His swamper, like the one in Ottawa, was a wiry, hard-drinking, incredibly strong little guy who told me at one point, in his semi-toothless lisp, that he had had his jaw broken 4 times, once by a woman.  Together they emptied the van into the storage container in under 90 min.  I shook their hands, went into the office to buy a lock, put it on the container door and drove back to Kelowna.   The sky was blue and the sun brilliant as I drove along Lake Kalamalka.  The hills on the far side were either a patchwork quilt of luminous autumn colors, where there were orchards and vineyards, or an undulating beige carpet of dry grass intermittently patterned in green pines and bright yellow leaves.

The move is almost over.  At the Storit Place this morning, I even reserved the truck and 2 movers for Sat., April 2 when I will finally get into the house.  The weather has been wonderful the last couple of days.  I’ve been walking and helping Bert to rake the leaves and pick up the hundreds of walnuts that cover the yard.  It’s 2:15 p.m., and I think I’ll go outside to celebrate the rites of autumn and one minor victory of faith, or is it blind luck, over doubt.

Pernell doing the paperwork while the swamper, Doug, goes to open the doors

The swamper getting ready for the transfer

Notes from the underground

I said goodbye to Barb and Terry in the dark some time after 7 on Thursday morning and drove to the ferry on a shiny black road in the rain.  I caught the 9 o'clock ferry and for the first time didn't take even one turn around the deck.  I rushed to get a coffee, muffin and seat at a computer terminal.  I'm becoming quite a techie.  I drove off into the grey and rain at Vancouver and continued nonstop to Kelowna.  I kept watching the temperature gage in the car which read 10 in Victoria and Vancouver,  4 or 5 over the Coquihalla, 0 with snow on the connector road down into Kelowna and back to 10 in Kelowna.  Almost all the leaves are still on the trees here and the temp. is around 8 today.  I went for a good walk up the hill at the end of Bert and Peg's street, and took some pictures.

Now, I am sitting at the computer in my basement suite at Bert and Peg's.  If I put on my glasses and look up and out the kitchen door, I see bright blue sky, a few leaves falling, and in the distance, a rock face fringed with dark green conifers.  I've enjoyed finally organizing some of my stuff, including some very useful kitchen equipment that Bert saved when he sold the Boler.  I've spent the last 2 days doing this, and visiting with Bert and Peg who are helping me find out how to make my way around Kelowna.  At the farmer's market yesterday I bought a carving done in cottonwood bark by a local man.  It looks like an old wood imp and is supposed to "ward off undesirable spirits, bring good luck and help to keep households safe".  This combined with the fact that it's made from the bark of the cottonwood tree made me rush uncharacteristically quickly into my wallet to buy it.  I will put it near the door of the Vernon house when I move in in April.  April 1st in fact which is a rather inauspicious date so it's best to ward off spirits.  There are a few strange coincidences revealing themselves around the house, and as it is Hallowe'en day, I will write them down and hope in that way to lessen any evil magic they might otherwise hold.  The house was built in 1934, the same year that Cole Porter wrote the song, 'Don't fence me in", that has been haunting my head since I left Ottawa.  He wrote the song based on a cowboy's poem for a cowboy musical that was never staged, and he said much later that of all the songs he had written, it was the one he liked the least.  In that song the cowboy says he wants to ' listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees', so how could I not buy the carved spirit in the hope that it brings good luck to the house and that the purchase of it will complete the circle and get the irritating song out of my head.I got a call from Dan, the realtor who is renting our house, within 15 min. of arriving at Bert and Peg's.  He informed me that there had been a leak in the sewage system and some sewage was in the basement, so he needed the insurance information in order to get the cleanup and repair started.  What a downer, but that was before I bought the wood nymph, so I'm hoping that when I phone him tomorrow, all will be well.

Happy Hallowe'en to you all

Hallowe'en 2010 in Kelowna

The day of the dead 2007 in Puerto Vallarta

The cottonwood bark spirit

The new bridge in Kelowna from the top of the hill at the end of Bert and Peg's street

 A turkey at the farmers' market in Kelowna yesterday.  The look in his eye seems to indicate that he won't go to the table without a fight.

Memories of Jim

Bill had 3 discs of photos he'd taken in India and while kayaking along the north shore of Lake Superior which we put into my laptop to show to our parents.  They were very happy to see slide shows of both trips, explained by Bill and accompanied by music I chose from among the many pieces Jim had downloaded onto the laptop.  We had a good time.  This led to my working on iPhoto this morning to straighten out the photos.  While doing this, I looked again at old photos of Jim and cried and laughed.  Here are two that seem to catch a part of the spirit of the man I remember.

Jim in Victoria with Barb and Terry

Jim on the beach at Barb and Rod's in Mexico

Re Bar

Thanks for telling me about Re Bar, Miche.  I've just returned from lunch there with Barb and Terry.  The food was delicious and the beer, a Kelowna pale ale, the best I've tasted in ages.  The veggie club was so good I didn't even miss the bacon and the Yukon gold and yam fries with chipotle dip beyond my wildest hopes, and I did have high hopes when I ordered them because I love yam fries and all good fries.  So much for the left coast foodie section of this blog.  Back to the pictures.

dad's spider which pulled up it's web and left two days ago

dad, mom and me on our way to lunch at the Oak Bay Marina.  I look as if I've been having a few too many lunches out.

with Barbara on a walk.  At least I'm not eating all the time.

Bill and I in front of an arbutus on a hike we took up Mount Finleyson near Gold Stream near Victoria.  I'm biting his apple.

Left Coast update

Greetings from the south island on the left coast.  Vancouver Island weather reports are almost always issued in 4 parts, all quite different and equally inaccurate according to locals.  Victoria is in the south island where rain and wind are in the forecast for today.  The morning didn't dawn; it just paled into grey.  I  woke up at 6:45 and decided to get up and turn on the computer to see if Jay was on line for a Skype call, so I saw the slow transition from black to a paler shade of grey.  Yesterday was supposed to be rainy, but it didn't come down much until late afternoon and there were good periods of sun.  I went to Gold Stream with Paula and Bill, and we hiked up Mount Finlayson, a rock wall that rises out of the ferns and moss covered trees just beyond Gold Stream.  Some of the firs and cedars on the lower part are enormous old creatures with thick moss-covered bark on one side, or all around if they're dead.  The path was carpeted in needles and huge maple leaves.  Near the top we almost entered the back yard of a golf club condo, a bit of a disappointment after a vigorous uphill walk in what had appeared to be the great outdoors, but beyond that we really got to the rock climb.  After rounding a couple of juts of wet rock that got me closer than I wanted to a formidable drop off, I snuggled into a corner of rock and sat in the sun while Paula went a bit farther and reached her limit and Bill went further yet and came back to join us as the dark clouds threatened imminent rain.  We walked down and reached Gold Stream in the dripping wet.  As we approached the water, we saw that people were gathered watching the beginning of the salmon run, so I finally saw that spectacle.  The fish were huge, grey and moving slowly upstream in a fairly large school until some native boys walking fully clothed in the stream with poles and fishing rods disturbed them.  Then they contorted their bodies, rose and turned making the stream a moiling mass of salmon.  A couple of the boys caught big ones after quite impressive struggles.  It was a great day.  Today I think we'll shop.

The dam's been opened

I'm practicing my new trick by sending more photos.  At the moment I'm in the Oak Bay library escaping the tense atmosphere at my parents' place as they await my brother's arrival on the ferry.  Today is the first day of real wind since I've been here and this adds to their level of concern.  Fortunately, they don't have internet access, so I was able to use the excuse of having to check something on eBay to get out for a walk in the wind and a trip to the library.  I actually am awaiting the end of the auction I entered.  The time will be up in 10 min.  Here are some pictures:

Bill, Barb and me on Mount MacKay

 a train entering the spiral tunnel in the Rockies

Joanne and her sister Barb outside Jo's condo near the Berard Bridge in Vancouver

More anon.  As my mother would say, "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Thursday in Oak Bay

This is Thursday, and I’m sitting again in the Oak Bay Library while dad reads the paper and mom has her hair done.  I’m settling into the routine, more or less successfully.  It’s limits are set by my parents’ lifelong habits of rigid planning which have now calcified with the physical and mental restrictions of age.  But considering their ages, 89 and 90, they are pretty active, certainly mentally.  We had a lively lunch at the Oak Bay Marina with Barb and Terry, who commented to me later on the fact that my parents are certainly interested in contemporary issues and express their minds on all matters eloquently, if at times caustically.  There’s a lot about political correctness and computer technology that they don’t understand and don’t care to, but they love an invigorating political exchange.

Talking about limits makes me think of the song that popped into my mind when I first thought of this blog, the lyrics of which I have referred to a bit.  I must have heard my parents’ record of it by Bing Crosby many times when I was young because most of the words are still in my mind, in fact it’s becoming what Miche would call a brain worm and I wish I could eliminate it as one would a tape worm.  I looked it up just now in Wikipedia and discovered that it was written by Cole Porter in 1934 for a musical that was never produced.  What a coincidence, our house in Vernon was built in 1934.  Now that I’m alone, the lines, “Let me be by myself in the evenin’ breeze,/ And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees,”  take on more meaning.  I’ve always loved listening to the rustle of poplar leaves, but I haven’t heard that sound since I left Wakefield. However, after leaving mom and dad’s, I have spent some time alone in the evening breeze watching the moon become full with Jupiter bright beside it.  When Jim and I were visiting his aunt in Belgium, she told us that her late husband used to tell her when they couldn’t take a trip to Spain on certain years that she should go to the end of the garden, sit on the bench, shut her eyes and listen to the poplar leaves.  Their sound was like the sea, he said.

Wishing you all well,

Jan

Gaze at the moon

Gazing at the moon

Now that I am long past the ridge where the west commences, I’ve started staring at the moon, and Jupiter.  I haven’t completely lost my senses, but I’ve started collecting bugs to help my dad feed the two spiders that live in webs the size of dinner plates suspended between the ceiling and railing of my parents balcony, so perhaps I’m close.  He’s been nurturing them for months and now I’m helping by collecting earwigs and some kind of armadillo like things from under Barb and Terry’s plant pots.  Terry’s even getting into the game; he volunteered to put holes in the candy tin I collect them in.  I still haven’t seen one of the epic struggles my dad has described which sometimes end up with the web in tatters and the bug wrapped like a mummy and ready to be sucked dry.  The long view from the balcony is of the 14^th hole of the Oak Bay Golf Club, but for the moment the close up is much more riveting.  At night the moon is bright and Jupiter’s brilliant.

Fall comes much more gradually in Victoria than it does in the Gatineau.  There are shades of yellow, peach and red on some trees and bushes, but many trees that look deciduous never completely lose their leaves, so there’s still plenty of green and many flowers are still in bloom; the roses are especially remarkable.  I drove with mom and dad today to see the salmon run at Gold Stream, but it hasn’t started yet, so we walked along the paths among the enormous B.C. cedars and firs.  The last few days have been sunny and cool, perfect for walking.  I’ve also had good walks around the inner harbor with Barb a couple of mornings and I spend two or three hours every afternoon walking along different beaches and reading by the sea.  At one place I talked with two fishermen who had just caught a huge halibut.  One of them was filleting it very skillfully and I mentioned that my husband had been good at filleting.  We talked about pickerel, and I mentioned liking pickerel cheeks.  He took the cheeks out of the big blubber-lipped halibut head and gave them to me.  As neither of us had a bag, I walked back to the car, about 15 minutes away with one in each hand.  They were thick and the size of my palm.  We had them fried in butter as part of our dinner.  They were  quite stringy and tough, so either I did something wrong or ….  Today I walked to a Chinese Cemetery by the sea and took pictures of the gates and some of the stones.  On the way I saw a few art deco houses that reminded me of ours in Vernon so I took pictures of them too.

Victoria

Victoria

The Great Trek is over; the Mazda has made it to the west coast of Vancouver Island.  I’m glad now that Jim was adamant about our buying it.  At the time I wanted to keep the Ford Escape, but once I began driving alone, I was happy to be in a new car.  It does have inner bigness.  When Bert and I unpacked it and put all the stuff either in their garage or the suite, I was surprised again by how much there was.

I think the theme of this blog will be thanks because that’s certainly what I felt this Thanksgiving.  I miss Jim’s company, conversation, help and much more.  On this trip I have been brought to tears many times by the memory of him and the stark fact that he is dead, but I have been helped so much by family, friends and even strangers that I have to express my thanks.  It was wonderful to have final dinners with friends and their children before I left.  I was able to settle in and say a real goodbye.  As I drove west I shared visits and meals that were both rests along the way and chances to keep in touch with people who have been close to us for all our married life.  Although Jim and I often had to be reminded of our anniversary, I remembered Oct. 9 this year; it would have been our 39^th. 

I had a non- traditional Thanksgiving dinner in a restaurant in Vancouver with Jo and her sister Barb, halibut and chips with a delicious sesame coleslaw.  For the first time, I was in Vancouver with people who live there.  Jo’s condo is on the waterfront, a short walk from the Berard Street Bridge, so I was able to take pictures its art deco arches.  The weather was perfect the first day and we wandered all over Granville Island and then went to Barb’s new house in West Van,; it’s right on the water with a beach and huge drift logs.  Monday we toured by car and foot through Stanley Park and the U.B.C. gardens.  I drove Jo to the airport on Tues. and continued on to the ferry after asking directions from a cab driver.  Again, a stranger gave me clear directions and the way was easy.  The crossing was warm and windy; I walked around and around the boat and went inside to write some emails.

Barb and Terry greeted me at their door in Vic. West. I went inside for a chat and then settled into the friendly comfort of their suite.  I unpacked for the first time since I had left Don and Mela’s on  Sept.29.  What a luxury it was to see what was in the suitcase and what a disappointment to discover I’d forgotten include my granny slippers and favorite sweater.  I’ve already had one good walk around the Inner Harbour with Barbara, and we plan to have one in a different direction tomorrow morning. 

Mom and Dad are carrying on bravely.They are proud people, and I think that at times it’s sheer will that keeps them upright.  They pull together dinners using most of the same kitchen gear they had when I was with them and still in high school, but the food is tasty, healthy and in small portions.  That and mom’s long held belief that you have to eat 5 different colours of fruit and veg. each day have helped to get them both to 90.  We’ve been driving, walking, visiting the library and out for lunch.  I’ve got lost both times trying to get back to Barb and Terry’s at night from mom and dad’s.  That’s one practical way in which I miss Jim.  He always said I was horribly twisted and it made me furious, but now I have to face the truth, I am.  Last night I was driving around for half an hour before I finally saw a relatively respectable looking man crossing the road I was on and asked for directions.  He straightened me out by sending me in the completely opposite  direction on Fort Street from the one in which I had been heading and I made it to be safely.

More anon

   

Calgary

Swift Current

I didn’t see much of Swift Current; it was perfectly planned for passing through, with a service road lined by fast food restaurants, motels, gas stations, farm equipment stores, etc.  Once beyond this, you have the sensation of entering the maw of an inland whale as a morsel on the long black crease of it’s rough undulating beige/green tongue, rolling to the distant point where it meets the pale blue pallet and you drop into the throat.  Of course the image, if it’s apt at all, becomes less appealing if you look left and imagine what the eastbound traffic is.  I feel at home in this prairie landscape.  Like Lake Superior or the ocean, it’s restful in a way to be able to gaze at the horizon, although some might say boring.  I remember reading in the book of photos of Canada that we presented to the U.S.A. on their bicentennial a Saskatchewan farmer’s comment upon looking at the Rockies for the first time:  “ They’re not bad, but they sure do block the view.”

The rolling becomes more pronounced as you approach Calgary.  The fields are golden and studded with round bales, as numerous as the depressions on a Chinese Checker Board.  I stopped for gas before entering the city and when a young man came up to the window to fill the tank, I decided to ask him to look at my Mapquest  map to Joanne’s place.  What luck!  He had lived on Elbow Drive and knew a much more direct route, one I could easily remember instead of the bewildering maze I had been preparing to follow at my peril because I would have been taking my eyes off the road at regular intervals in order to get the next instruction.

I arrived early at Jo’s and spent a glorious half hour in her garden before she came home and we began our evening of  white wine, chat and a delicious lamb dinner at her golf club.  The weather continues warm and sunny.

Swift Current, Sask.

Here I am at another spot on the map.  Driving out of Winnipeg today was like living last nights' CBC weather report with Clair Martin, although I wasn't nearly as well dressed as she is.  Last night I watched her with Danny and she talked of warm air coming from the south east into Man.  This morning as we stepped out of the house you could feel it.  As I left Winnipeg, the russet and green grasses by the side of the highway were all waving toward the north west and the geese were crossing my path at almost perfect right angles heading south. By the time I got into Sask., the wind was blowing so hard right out of the west that I had to stop the car and fasten down my bike because I saw it rise up in a way I'd never seen before.  It didn't help that I was driving on cruise at just under 120; the speed limit in Sask. is 110.  That and the fact that Rita sent me off with a strong cup of coffee and cream and enough muffins and cheese to last all day account for the fact that I made it all the way here.  Other factors were the gaining of an hour and the beauty of the rolling hills west on Moose Jaw and the wide blue sky.  I drove the last hour listening to Peggy Lee and letting my gaze wander over yonder.  I recommend Ann Patchett to anyone who hasn't read her, perhaps I'm the only one who hasn't.  I got a cd of her commencement address at Sarah Lawrence College out of the library before I left Ottawa and listened to it today.  It's wonderfully sane and imaginative; I'm going to read some of her novels now.

I stopped at a Super 8 just after a busload of seniors and had to take a smoking room, which I've been airing out for the last 2 hours.  It's not great, but the hot tub was relaxing and now that I have eaten in the Chinese restaurant across the highway, a not bad noodle dish although I could have had heavily breaded shrimp in shiny sauce, and settled into my pyjamas I'm ready to sleep.  

Winnipeg

Now I'm in the west.  The land flattened out west of the Lake of the Woods and the wind gusts made the Mazda sway at times.  A white cat jumped out of a ditch and dashed across the highway in front of me;  there was nothing I could do but hit it and send it flying.  I looked back but saw nothing.  It must have landed in the opposite ditch.  I felt awful, but cars were behind me and coming at me;  I just drove on.  So far this has been the only bleak patch on the trip.

I had a good rest and visit with Bill in Thunder Bay.  I went with him and Paula to an int./adv. yoga class.  I've been doing yoga since I attended a class in Quebec City in 1974, but this is the first formal session I've been to since.  It was a sobering experience.  Some of the positions were new, and by the end I was in a sweat.  But after the final minutes of measured breathing and focused relaxation of the entire body I stood up, looked out the window across the bay at the Sleeping Giant and thought I would try to find a yoga class in Vernon.  After the class, we joined Barb in the Hoito for breakfast, went for a walk around Mount McKay and home to Bill's for a delicious dinner made by Patrick.  Bill made me blueberry oatmeal in the morning, scraped the frost off the car, gave me a pair of driving gloves and I left for Winnipeg at 8a.m.

The Trans Canada out of Thunder Bay is a two lane road patterned with cracks filled with fresh tar and bordered by gravel shoulders.  It's hard to believe it's the main highway across the country.  The grass on either side was faded by frost and the poplars and birch had lost most of their leaves so only the Tamarac were yellow among the conifers.  The bare branches and cold made the coming of winter a reality, but by the time I got to Winnipeg the sun was setting in a clear sky;  the temperature rose to 25c. by Mon. afternoon.   I've either seen or talked on the phone with a lot of relatives here.  Danny and Rita had their kids for dinner and a lot of other Van de Vyveres later for coffee and dessert on Sun. night.  The talk went on 'til midnight.  Today I talked with Jay on Skype; Marg and Ken and Bert and Joanne on the phone; helped Danny and Rita look after Dawn and Lino's 2 little kids; went to Lino's birthday dinner and returned exhausted to write this and hit the pit.  I'm going to try to get west of Regina tomorrow.

The Sault to Thunder Bay

Morning dawned sunny in the Sault, although I actually didn't see the dawn; I drove away from the Ambassador at 8a.m.  I was immediately on hwy. 17 which at that point is a narrow two lane road hedged on either side with beautiful fall trees for a few miles.  Then the view opens up and you are looking over a valley and rolling hills that form a tapestry of muted autumn colours pierced by dark green spruce and whisped  in low spots with rising mist.  It's beautiful and to paraphrase a well known comment made about Paris, any person who is tired of such wonders of nature is tired of life, and I'm not.  This beauty lasts for about 2 hours and is followed by a bit of a boring part, during which I listened to one of my cds.  Then you reach the north shore of Lake Superior and the rest of the drive is punctuated by spectacular views of that vast water and rocky shore.  I stopped to look again at a particularly memorable place, the Twlight Campground where Jim and I stayed on our trip west with the Boler.  It was as I remembered, a rather seedy campground on a spectacular stony bay.

I got to Bill's by 5:30 and spent the evening on his porch with him and Pat, his son, eating, drinking and talking.  After a long sleep, I awoke this morning to the happy sensation of being rested.  My heart had been beating weirdly for two days, to the point that it was starting to bother me, but I have had no coffee in 2 days and I am relieved to have the move over and feel calm for the first time in days.  Jim used to say that I was all sail and he was the keel, and this is the first big move I've made with no keel in almost 39 years. But it seems to be going along.  Today Bill and I went for a great walk to Trowbridge Falls with his dog and met Lindsay, Matti's wife there.  She's pregnant with their first child.  We had lunch at the Hoito, so the  T.Bay experience is being lived.

More anon