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