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