Preparing for change

It’s May 30, 2015, and I’ve started the slow process of turning the ship around.  May 29 was Jay’s last day of teaching in Korea.  He Kakaoed me to say that he felt “scared and happy”.  He added that they had received some positive news from CIC.  I’ll get more details on Monday.  It’s a big move for him, May and the girls.  The file Jay compiled was huge.  Documents had to be collected from the Philippines, Canada and Korea.  Most of the papers had to be translated into English.  They have had to quit their jobs, sell their place and pack boxes and boxes, some of which will come here and some contain articles of clothing, etc. that they are giving to May’s family in the Philippines.  Compared with what they’re doing, I’m merely turning a dory.  And I’m enjoying it, mostly.  It’s invigorating to move stuff around, see things again and marvel at the amount of dust and dirt that accumulates in 5 years.  I had really spread out and now I’m gathering in, not throwing out much but rethinking where things should go and finding lots of space for what will come with the gang.  This house, like my Mazda, has inner bigness.  On Monday, two new bookshelves will be delivered.  I will have them set up in what will be my new bedroom.  I’ve wanted to buy bookshelves since I moved to Vernon and soon I will have them.  No one can accuse me of being an impulse buyer.  Another thing that I have wanted to do since I moved in was get some film to cover the big windows in the two exterior doors.   At first I couldn’t imagine living in a house that seemed so open to view, but I soon adjusted.  However, spurred by the irresistible excitement of change, I did some research, found a company in Vernon that does that work and discussed the idea with the young man who came here.  All will be done on the Friday after I return from Victoria.  He said that they will be able to duplicate the pattern that is already on the bathroom door, which is from the original, 1934 house. 

Jay and May taking a break from the business of moving

May looking beautiful as ever

Jay Van de Vyvere gettin' 'er done in Incheon

Mark Van de Vyvere bringin' home the turkey in Walkerton

Poppies in the front yard

The rose bush in bloom again

Victoria Day

It’s Victoria Day, and I’m celebrating some little victories.  The Sunday hike was a success in spite of the fact that I awoke at around 4:00am to the sound of rain.  At first I was elated because that’s exactly what the plants in the Okanagan need, but by the time I returned from the bathroom, I had remembered the Sugarloaf hike.  I went back to sleep and awoke at 7:00 to continuing rain.  I got up, and, in between phone calls from people asking what was happening, ate breakfast and got ready for the hike.  I told everyone that hikes are cancelled only if the people who show up at the municipal parking lot make that decision.  Walking to the meeting place with my umbrella up, I was wondering who would be there, although I had a pretty good idea.  And I was right.  Eleven of the dependable regulars were huddled under umbrellas.  There was one new woman among them.  We decided that as we were in for a nickel, we might as well go in for a dime.  By the time we got to the trailhead, the rain had almost stopped.  After ten minutes it had, and the rest of the hike was dry, except for the path itself, which the rain had transformed from grey dust on Wednesday to chocolate mush on Sunday.  We had some humorous slips and were all muddy by the end, but we laughed a lot and agreed that we were glad we had carried on.  The rest of the day continued in that vein.  Jay and I had our usual good chat, on Sunday night instead of Monday morning, and mom was feeling in pretty good shape when I talked later with her. 

I phoned Barbara and Terry today.  Barbara’s back continues to be painful, so she and Terry were watching the Victoria Day Parade on tv, instead of on the street as they usually do.  I will be able to stay in their suite from June 4 to 14, so I will visit mom for her 94^th birthday on June 7^th.

It’s not all good, but it feels that way today. 

Colin's picture of the Sugarloaf gang.  I think he brightened it a bit so you could make out our faces

My photo from another lookout at a more grey moment

Galls on a juniper on Sugarloaf.  I hope my Spartan doesn't get these.

Iris from the yard that fell under their own weight

May 16, 2015

I haven’t sat down to write in a while because I’ve been listless and sad.  The former feeling comes from the uncertainty I have about my mom’s situation.  She’s doing her best but sounds either overwhelmed or in pain or bored most of the time when I phone her.  She’s too old to adjust to a new life, alone, and I don’t know what to do to help her.   I don’t want to devote my whole life to her, so I encourage her every attempt at independence, but I don’t think she is buoyed by being able to do things on her own, as I was.   And I am saddened by the death of my high school friend, Liz White.  Mom often says that she wishes she had died when dad did.  Liz, like Jim, died too young.  

 It’s the Saturday before Victoria Day, and all’s quiet on the Vernon front.  Tomorrow I lead the hike up Sugarloaf.  We scouted it on Wednesday, and I went biking and helped a friend clean the outside of her mobile home on Thursday, so I am now enjoying two days of reading, restful housework and fixing up the yard.  Yesterday I bought and planted a Spartan Juniper.  I think it’s the name that attracted me.  I’m determined to plant only hardy, drought-resistant things because it sounds as if, after a winter of less snow than usual and a spring with little rain, we are facing a dry summer in the Okanagan.  What could be tougher than a ‘Spartan’?  I have planted 3 other small junipers as ground cover and a dwarf Alberta spruce.  That’s the end of my Spring-planting madness, I hope.   

The VOC on East Vernon Hill, with Kalamalka Lake in the background

Mo at the Brown Derby in Armstrong, where we had breakfast in the middle of our bike ride last Saturday.  The sign says it all; it's a great breakfast. 

Wild flowers on Camel's Hump

Miche's Visit

Monday, May 4^th and I’m getting grounded.  Talking with Jay this morning helped start the process.  Seeing him and May and the girls and hearing about all the ups and downs of family life always injects a lively note of reality into my mollusk shell and makes me look forward to the vitality they will bring into this house.  Talking with Jay about what we both are doing gives those events a meaning that I sometimes find is missing from my life as a widow, retired from a real job.  I have enjoyed learning how to live alone in this wonderful house and to make a life for myself in Vernon, but I’m ready for some changes, whatever they might be. Today I’m not going to get beyond putting away winter clothes and bringing up the spring and summer stuff.  This time, I’m determined to throw many of both into the bag for The Mission, but I always have that resolution until I actually am faced with realizing it, and then I think, ‘Well there aren’t any holes in this, it’s only about 10 years old, I like the color, etc., etc.’, and hang it up for another season.

This is something else that makes me look forward to the arrival of the gang.  I’ll have to get rid of a bunch of old junk then.  There just won’t be room for it.  The only other thing that has ever made me throw out old stuff has been moving.  Fortunately we’ve done quite a bit of that. I have been renewed by each move.

Miche is back on the VIA train enjoying the relaxing voyage from Kamloops to Toronto in her suite, with meals and the wonderful timelessness of train travel.  The whole VIA passenger system is a timeless zone with cars sidelined for freight without a thought.  It was futile trying to figure out the schedule when she arrived in Kamloops.  I phoned VIA before leaving home naively hoping to get some idea of arrival time.  The man who answered was very accommodating.  He had me hold while he made a serious attempt to answer my question.  When he returned, he said he was pretty sure the train would get in around 12:30am.  After getting lost in Kamloops in the dark trying to find the tiny, well-hidden north station, I arrived at around midnight to find three workers standing around completely innocent of information, a tiny waiting room with one woman sitting cross legged on a wooden bench in a state of meditation, a bathroom (thank heaven) and an old couple awake and waiting in their car.  I was prepared for this.  I got out a pillow and blanket, kicked back the driver’s seat and fell asleep in spite of the noisy shunting of train cars.  I awoke around 2:30am to silence; the old couple had left and the woman was now flaked out on the hard bench, covered in most of the clothes that had been in her suitcase.  After another two hours Miche arrived, we drove home, ate cereal, closed all the blinds and slept until after noon.  Then we slowly got back to normal and the visit began.

We had to make a few adjustments learning to live together, but nothing major, and we had some good times.  Miche started by renting a bike and ended up buying it and having it shipped back home when she left, so we did a lot of biking.  It was fun for me to actually be the one leading; I’m a follower with the VOC.  We took a drive into the Kootenays to check out some hot springs.  That is some of the most beautiful country I have ever seen.  We spent the night in Nakusp, found a wonderful coffee shop there, relaxed in the hot springs and walked around the area.  I was happy that Miche was able to meet some of my friends.  Mo had us for dinner and a hot tub on Sunday and Miche made crepe for lunch for me, Mo and Noreen on the day she left.  I drove her to Kamloops on Friday afternoon to catch the train early Saturday morning.  She had decided to stay the night in a hotel near the north station to save us both from having to drive from Vernon at about 4:00am.  An excellent idea, but even it was not good enough to avoid all ‘issues’.  We arrived at the hotel just after a gang of loud old bikers.  They filled the hotel reception area with their physical size and the volume of their self-conscious comments and demands.  The poor young East Indian woman at the desk had her considerable patience stretched.  Miche and I went outside to wait in peace.  Finally Miche was settled in a quiet part of the hotel and we went for a bowl of soup at a nearby restaurant.  I left her preparing to introduce herself to two sisters who were also going to catch the train in the morning.  She hoped that they could take a cab together.  Having Miche stay in my house was fun.  It makes what I’m doing here seem more real when someone I know from my other life shares this one with me for a while.    

Miche in my sun room with her new Giant bike

The path through the mossy woods near Nakusp Hot Springs

The rushing river that the path follows

The bridge over the river

The guys who built the bridge