Solstice 2020, Vernon, BC  

SUNSET: 3:56pm

SUNRISE: 7:55am

That's a long night after a short, cloudy day of snow so heavy it falls like rain and almost instantly melts on roads and sidewalks. However, it does cling to the boughs of evergreens, making them droop until finally the clump is so heavy it drops off and the bough springs back up. If you catch that moment, you're lucky.  😹 

There's no hope the snow will stop until around midnight, so it will not be possible to see the conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter that will occur tonight in the sky to the south west just after sunset. The forecast is for partly clear skies tomorrow evening. I hope to see it then. The last time there was such a conjunction was on March 4, 1226, so I don't think I'll get another chance. I'm not getting a lot of activity and excitement these days. Sitting in a reclining chair with a heating pad at my back watching snow fall might be more exciting than watching grass grow, but not much. That's why the mere idea of observing a planetary conjunction that last occurred almost eight centuries ago has fired my imagination. 

 

The other bright prospect in my life arrived yesterday in the form of a big brown box from Korea that was waiting at the front door when I arrived home with an only mildly aching back after a walk of about 3km. It's under the tree now. I'll open it when I have the Christmas Kakaotalk video with Jay and the gang on my Christmas Eve and their Christmas noon. 

Less bright is the unknown whereabouts of my package to Korea, which I sent Express Post on November 26. Ten days later, when I tracked it for the first time, it was about 3/4 of the way there. It hasn't moved since. I was cursing Canada Post and praising South Korea's service. But Jay suggested last night that the hold up might have something to do with the fact that in the box, along with the Christmas treats was his old Xbox and case of games. He said he'd heard of there being difficulties mailing them to Korea. And what had I done?  I get so rattled by official business of any kind that even mailing that box got me double thinking my way into stupidity. Although it was quite heavy, there was no need for me to explain exactly why, but I did. I included the Xbox in the list of contents. My mother always said, "Spare me the details, Jan," if I got too long winded, and Jim insisted that I let him do the talking whenever we crossed borders. I'm slowly getting to see myself from their perspective. I sometimes go on when backing off would serve me better. And I used to think they just didn't appreciate my eloquence and spontaneity. 🤪

2020 was a rather stark year, but we can always look forward to a more flamboyant 2021.

COVID Christmas 2020

Yesterday afternoon Bonnie Henry reluctantly announced that residents of B.C. will have to stay home this Christmas, no family gatherings. You can only celebrate with those who actually live in your house. There is an exception for people who live alone. We will be able to join another household of no more than two people for Christmas dinner. The strict measures will be in force until January 8, 2021 in the hope that the number of Covid 19 cases will not spike in mid to late January, as it's feared they would if people travelled and gathered in large family groups over the holidays. Like Hamlet, we will, "... eat the air, promise-crammed."  Unlike him, we are not capons. I reread most of Shakespeare's plays in 2011, the first year I lived alone in Vernon. I copied some of my favourite lines but haven't thought about them until a few have come back to me lately. Maybe I'll return to those notes as a Covid project. I'm not the least bit crafty, I don't like playing games and I don't want to go back to baking cinnamon buns and croissants because the Ratio Coffee Shop and Hot Bread Bakery, both of which are within easy walking distance of my house, bake the best of these two treats that I have ever tasted. And I can still walk short distances. 

As Jay is back in S. Korea and I fell and hurt my back on the second day of skiing, I was already  anticipating a less festive season this year. I will have Christmas dinner with Miriam and Bill and visit Mo and John for New Year's Eve. Jay and I are in touch every day via Kakaotalk, the S. Korean WhatsApp. It's virtual, but I'm really thankful for it. 

We will have a muted winter  season in hopes of being able to turn up the volume by the summer of 2021. 

Jay and Frank on their last hike

Jay on day two of teaching on line. They have kept almost all of their students and appear to have picked up a dog. 

Not all, of course, but many of my difficulties have been caused by either an excess of enthusiasm or a lack of forethought. Dad, because he had been rushed into responsibility by the early death of his father and the necessity of financially helping his mother raise four children in the Depression, was a very cautious person. In my blissful ignorance, I dismissed his deliberations before every act as a big waste of time that could be better spent actually doing things that would mostly be fine and if not would not take much effort to rectify. When he worried about my rushing into things without much forethought, I would just say, "Sometimes you're lucky, dad." He reminded me of this often as I  got older. And we would laugh. Like many of my generation, nationality, race and social class, I have lived in a golden time of prosperity and peace, in Canada. We've mostly been lucky. We've lived under the delusion that we can micro manage our lives, convinced that even if we follow the odd whim, little that is disastrous will befall us. We continue to be among the least affected by this pandemic. Born in June, 1946, I am, according to Garry Trudeau's 'Doonesbury', one of the oldest of the Boomers. Although none of us has made it to the age we are without experiencing pain and sorrow that have forced us to accept that we cannot control everything, we continue to be blessed. The generation before ours is suffering and dying in care homes, and many of those after us are experiencing serious difficulties in work and family life as a result of this pandemic. 

There's always hope.  I might finally have learned to curb my enthusiasm; although, I'm not going to put money on it. On November 22 I had a wonderful first day of skiing at Sovereign. On the 23rd I went for a second. Right at the start, on an embarrassingly small decline, I got going quite fast and stepped out of the ruts to skate a bit. I felt great until I saw my skies akimbo above my head and felt my back whack the ground with a force that knocked me breathless. I was aware of some pain, but mostly anger. How could I have been so stupid as to start skating when I was already going fast. My good friend Mo was soon by my side telling me to stop cursing myself and stay still as she took my skis off. She helped me up. Aside from a dull ache all over my back, I felt fine. We skied a short distance but soon turned around. Since then, I have seen the doctor, had X-rays and discovered I have four tiny fractures on the spine, around the area where the bra comes and just below. I have gripping muscle pain at times and sit down often with a heating pad at my back, but I only need one or two Tylenol extra strength a day. I can walk about three km and do everything I have to around the house. I have some young neighbours who will shovel when the snow comes. I couldn't get an appointment with the physiotherapist I really like until December 30, but I know two women with back problems who are giving me good advice to follow until then. My doctor suggested I have a bone density test to see if I have osteoporosis. But considering what I've learned from researching the medications available for that on the sites she told me about and talking with women I know about their side effects, I'm not eager to go there. So, in typical Scarlet O'Hara fashion, I'll think about that in the new year. I made a resolution this past New Years to allow more time for thought between stimulus and response, that obviously has not happened. Will this accident finally move me a bit forward along the path to forethought and, who knows, even wisdom? I hope so, but am not betting on that either.  

Jay is having to adjust to this pandemic in many ways. Born in 1981, he is one of the first millennials, as I am one of the first Post WW 2 boomers and my dad, born in 1919, was one of the first postWW1 babies. I don't think they made up fancy names for the generations then. On our daily KakaoTalk thumb chat last night he told me that S. Korea has gone to level 2.5, which means that in-class teaching has been cancelled for three weeks. He went to school early, and they started to implement their system for on line classes. He sent me this selfie of him starting his first class. Can you believe it, teaching on line while wearing a mask? 2020 is a time of change; I hope much of it will eventually be for the better. 

Some inter generational humour

I spoke too soon about Biden winning the US ELECTION. 

Although he did win, Trump continues to deny the fact. He has not yet conceded defeat. He and his red hats still stamp and scream that the election was stolen from them. But enough of fantasy.

The real world is confronting the second wave of COVID-19. It's crashing into parts of Canada that were hardly affected by the first wave and forcing the ones that were back into measures as drastic as those used in March. Even our Bonnie Henry has mandated mask wearing in BC, and she does her best to encourage people to do the right thing, not force them. But here as in most places people readily embrace the individual liberty that is implied by democracy but are reticent about exercising the equally fundamental collective responsibility it requires.

I rarely know what I'm thinking until I take time to consider what I'm doing. This morning I got up around 7:30, dressed, ate an apple, put a mask and hand sanitizer in my purse and drove to Superstore. I had about five items in the cart before I observed that there were more people in the aisles than I had thought there would be so early in the morning. They were all wearing masks. And I had just put ten pounds of whole wheat flour in my cart. Everyone was following the mask mandate and I was stocking up as I hadn't done since March. Until that moment, if asked, I would have said that I was unaffected by this second wave talk, 💦off a 🦆's back. 😹

But at that moment I realized that I had been thinking about it and so had these other masked shoppers. That's why I hadn't felt like having breakfast before going shopping and was buying things in bigger quantities than usual. When I went through the cash at 8:30am, I asked the cashier if there were more people in the store than usual at that hour because I had never been there this early. She said that it was starting to remind her of March. As I pushed my loaded cart out of the store, I passed a mountain of toilet paper on sale that I hadn't noticed on the way in. Superstore had caught the second wave well before I had. 

Meanwhile, back in S. Korea, Jay, May and the girls moved into their new apartment on Monday. They planned and packed and worked as a team. There were a few set backs, but nothing they couldn't manage and now they are settling in. They are quite a crew. Moving is becoming their specialty. The new place is on the main floor, bigger and much quieter than the last one, and the view from the living room window is of trees and a park. 

Packing done

Min and Jin eating their last lunch in the old place. 

May and the girls at the new dining room table in their new home


Jay's morning coffee after their first night in the new home. The nephews are already visiting as you can see from the blanket and softies on the floor. 

Rant 

The fact that the US has a  materialistic society, controlled by corporations through lobbyists and advertising, that is coupled with a myth of meritocracy that is in fact insanely weighted in favour of a small percentage of elite, upper class Americans who are the only ones who can afford to go to the best universities is clearly being revealed tonight as we see how many people feel so powerless in this atmosphere that they either ignore or admire the aspects of Trump's personality that I find narcissistic and immoral and vote for him because he brashly seems to defy those elites who presume they represent and are entitled to all that is good. What these disrespected, red cap wearing, flag waving, socialist fearing masses at Trump rallies don't seem to appreciate is that many among the elites are as bound to Trump as they are and support him financially precisely because as he talks like his rallying masses and appears to respect them he walks with the rich and entitled. Even though his position in their ranks is tenuous, they will back him as long as his narcissism props up their status and self interest. 🤪

That was my pre election rant. Like Rick Mercer, I will surround it with graffiti. This is the picture I took yesterday of the graffiti at the Black Rock. I walked there as part of my between season push to prepare for the pilgrimage I probably won't be able to go on next May. Caroline Pollock has invited me to join her, Mara and two other friends on a walk from the Cathedral in Ottawa to the Oratoire St. Joseph in Montreal. It would be wonderful to do, and not too difficult, or so I thought before starting to prepare. The route should be relatively flat, BUT you have to walk about 25km every day for 12 days. As there will be another group right behind us, there is no hope of a day off because the refugios are small and can only hold one group at a time. Still, the down payment was only about $70.00, so I happily paid. Now I'm trying to walk the walk. It might not be so easy. You have to carry a pack weighing approximately 20 pounds. I spent last week walking from one end of Vernon to the other, with digressions side to side and stops to fill my pack with shopping. I came nowhere near 25km with 20 pounds. One day after a long walk, I flopped my heavy pack ( a gallon jug of milk, a dozen eggs and some small stuff) on the kitchen counter and immediately took out my iPhone to see how close to 25km I'd come. 😅I was just short of 10. Still not too discouraged, I took out the scales to weigh the pack. I couldn't believe it but finally had to, 12.5 pounds. I'm going to need faith in a force greater than I am to help me through this pilgrimage. Finding that will be just as hard as walking and carrying. Covid might come to my rescue and make the whole thing impossible, but I really don't want to be rescued that way. 

As I write this last post rant part of the blog I am encouraged  because post Election Day vote counts have gone my way on two fronts. Biden will be the next President of the USA, and in my Vernon/ Monashee riding the NDP candidate has pulled ahead to beat the Liberal for the first time in years. 

One week ago today I received an email from Terry Keough informing me that Barbara had died earlier that morning. Barbara was brilliant. She was humane, intelligent and joyous. When I was with her, I felt special, not because I am, but because she was. I enjoyed her company and valued her opinion. She and Terry were good friends to Jim and me.  After Jim died, our friendship continued. I stayed in their basement flat every time I visited my parents, which was for a week or two, four times a year. After dad and mom died, I still spent at least a week every May with them. We had coffee and long talks together in their living room every morning and one or two pub lunches. Barbara almost always ordered a veggie burger with fries and took home about half the fries to heat and enjoy another time. She seemed to like fries better reheated. She was a wonderful listener, and when she said something, I listened. It was either a well stated, considered opinion,which I valued, or a laugh, which I often needed. I will miss her very much. 

Barbara and Terry at one of our pub lunches

It's the first day of what might be the last year that we Fall back in BC. I'm spending the extra hour in my grey sunroom. The temperature is 2c at the moment, but the sun is supposed to start shining around 11am.  Three of us plan to go on the final bike ride of 2020 at 12:30. The temperature should hit its high of 8c around 2:00pm, so we'll be wearing head bands and ski mitts. 

The leaves are still stubbornly refusing to turn and fall. 

But the temperature is certainly seasonal, dropping to between -1 and -9c every night starting tomorrow and only rising to between 1 and 6 during the day. We are supposed to get snow on Friday; it is already in the hills. Sovereign will open for xcountry skiing on Nov. 6; although they haven't issued their passes yet, even to those of us who have already bought them, because they are still working on a new Covid system that will allow them to know, by issuing plastic tap membership cards, how many people are on the trails. They will not be allowing people to enter the lodge, except to use the washrooms, so boots will be either worn up or put on in the car. 

Fortunately, neither Covid nor cool weather was able to halt the relentless will of Lynne Young. She has become a good friend of mine. She was determined to bike 80k on her 80th birthday, October 18, 2020. And we did it. 

I awoke at 7:00am on that morning, opened the blinds to see dark grey and light rain. The temperature was 4, according to my iPhone. I am not the person to initiate a bike ride on such a day, but I couldn't cuddle back into bed because I knew Lynne was. And another one of her friends, Colette is too. I rose, and keeping the faint hope of cancelation in my mind, mechanically went about preparing breakfast and all my bike clothes and gear. I was prepared to accept the inevitable when it arrived in the form of a phone call from Lynne. She said that even she had been of two minds when Colette called to knock the negativity out of her. So it was on. We would meet in Polson Park at 9:40am. I was ready to pull out of my parking lot at 9:15, got on the bike, stepped on the pedal and clunk. The chain had come off. I had never put the chain back on this bike. My first thought was to call for help, but who? There was no one except BCAA, and I'd have to wait for them. So I just started to do what I'd seen others do. And it worked. My hands were greasy, but the bike was fine. I made it to the park in time to take a picture of some of the others as they approached out of the gloom. We were all so bundled against cool weather and light rain that we looked like multicoloured Michelin men. But more than our tires were pumped. 

The weather didn't clear all day, but neither did it get any worse. We rode just over 40k to the Blue Ox Pub in Lumby, picking up more riders half way there. Other people drove to the pub, so there were about 25 people for the party. Lynne had done a lot of preparation, her husband John looked after the details on the day and the whole affair was a success. The ride home was more subdued. The temperature had dropped back to about 5 as we rode into Polson Park just after 4:00pm. Lynne invited us all back to her place for mulled wine after we had put our bikes away and changed. It was a great 80th birthday for Lynne and all of us. 

I spent almost two hours on Monday cleaning the dirt out of every crack and crevice of my panniers and bike and oiling the chain. 

The ditty I wrote on a card for Lynne and recited at the pub, in spite of the fact that I was shaking more than the leaves that still haven't fallen. 

Lynne Young

She's just turned eighty,

Our Lynne,

And in spite of the fact that

She's thin,

Her will is so strong

That her life will go on

Full of adventures 

And friends who are drawn 

To her hustle

And moved by her bustle

To do things that rarely go wrong. 

She does what she does

With commitment. 

A gambler would say,

She's 'ALL IN'. 

She stops for nothing, our Lynne. 

Not even her nose. 

Which she frequently blows,

While moving,

Without breaking stride,

Using one of the hankies she's fashioned 

And attached to her pack at the side. . 

And just because she's athletic 

Doesn't mean she is not à la mode,

Heavens no!

She designed a fetching, warm ski skirt

From a vest someone else had let go. 

At eighty today,

In her indomitable way,

She's gathered her friends 

For a party. 

Happy Birthday dear Lynne!

This time we're ALL IN 

Our wishes are heartfelt and hearty. 

Thanksgiving 2020 CE

2020 meant perfect vision to me, 

until 2020 CE. 

It's no longer something I wish I had

I've had it!!

I'm in my gloomy sunroom at 4:30pm on a dull, cool, rainy day in the Okanagan. But oddly enough, I feel fine. I think I'm buoyed by having spent the day washing summer and winter clothes, storing the former away and filling the cupboards and drawers with the latter. I have always bought most of my clothes in second hand or consignment shops, much to Jim's and my father's chagrin. Dad's comment one year as I got off the train from Kingston in Thunder Bay for Christmas proudly wearing a preowned fur coat, was, "Oh Jan, that wasn't even good when it was new." I hated to disappoint my dad, but his comment made me laugh. He had had a wry expression on his face as he made it, and I was old enough by that point to know that although I wasn't the perfect daughter of his dreams I was the real one who laughed at his jokes and made him laugh in my turn. Seeing my own well worn clothes again as the seasons change gives me a lift. They're still around, like old friends. It's new clothes that make me feel ill at ease. If I buy something new, I rarely wear it right away. I like it to hang around with the old stuff for a while to test its character. 

The forecast for the Thanksgiving weekend, according to my iPhone, is for more of the same, cool and rainy. I've done a lot of biking and rambling lately, so staying inside will be fine. On Wednesday, I was invited to a friend's place for dinner for five on the deck. She's a very good cook, so Thanksgiving Dinner is done. I'll join Mo,John and their daughter Kim for something on the weekend, so I will be following Bonnie Henry's advice to give big thanks in small groups. Lately I have started to find her voice a bit soporific and her messages rather saccharine, but BC has handled Covid fairly well under her guidance. She states the facts, doesn't panic and rather than issuing edicts, asks people to be kind to each other. What else can you ask?

To escape the miasma from the south,and I'm not referring to the smoke from the fires still burning in California, I am reading another book by Rutger Bregman,

Humankind, it's so much more stimulating, humane and well informed than the narcissistic nonsense coming from the Whitehouse.  

I'm thankful this weekend for the fact that Jay and May have found a new place. They have been searching for a while. They are back in Songdo where I had such good visits with them. They are on the first floor of a high rise, so Jay says it feels like a house  more than an apartment. Their windows look out on a park and a badminton court. They are very happy with it, and I am happy for them. 

So Thanksgiving 2020 is not without glimmers of hope. 

Jay and May's new home

Some friends and I rode our bikes to Predator Ridge this week. This is one of the many Thanksgiving decorations there. 

The smoke has lifted,

an election has been called in BC and it is now officially Fall. 

To celebrate the return of fresh air, four of us biked 80k on Monday, a bit of a stretch even with ebikes. It was a test run for Lynne Young's 80th birthday on October 18. She has invited quite a few friends to join her to celebrate the event and wanted to make sure that the route she had decided on was in fact 80k.  It was cool and clear and great to be moving again after more than a week of no real activity. On Tuesday, Mo led the Ramble up Bluenose. It's a short one but parts are quite steep. I had some trouble breathing but made it. Wednesday was a day of rest. 

I'm waiting for rain. I've planted so many things in the yard this season of Covid and smoke that I think I'd better implement a one plant policy next summer. I hope we get a long rainy fall to give the new things a good start, otherwise there will be a lot of watering in my near future. 

Ruth Bader Ginsberg was born, like Jay, on the Ides of March, March 15, 1933 and died last Friday, September 18, 2020. She was an intelligent, energetic and humane woman. She fought so many battles in her lifetime that it seems supremely unjust that the men with knives are still attacking her, even after her death. If Mitch McConnell and Donald Trump have an ounce of humanity between them, which I doubt they do, they will honour her last words to her granddaughter and leave the choice of her replacement on the Supreme Court of the United States to the winner of the November presidential election.

This is neither the best of times nor the worst of times, but it's another troubled time for humanity in more ways than one. It will take special people like RBG and ordinary people too voting and doing whatever they can to help each other and balance the scales of justice so everyone can live a descent life on a planet that remains livable. 

And for a humorous interlude: Lucy looks at 2020

Trying to find a balance

Schools have opened again in S. Korea!  I was happy to get a Seoul subway report last night as Jay headed back after two weeks off. That's good to hear; although, as is always the case in these uncertain Covid days, there might be another shut down if the government decides to take precautions in a couple of weeks during the Chuseok and Hangulnal holiday periods. Here in BC the main preoccupations are school openings, possible provincial elections and smoke from horrendous fires in Oregon, Washington State and California. Schools are open, but not without some snags, the New Democrats are high in the poles so may want to run for a majority and B.C. still isn't burning but is shrouded in smoke from the USA. 

The Monday bike, which was supposed to be an 80km rehearsal for Lynne's 80th birthday ride on October 18 was cancelled because of dense smoke in the air, so I am sitting in my sunless sunroom surrounded by haze. It is a fitting setting for these Covid days of uncertainty. A vague smell of smoke is entering the house and it's cool in here for the first time in months. Will I have to turn on the heat? Have I made it through another Okanagan summer without turning on the air conditioning? Is that really anything to celebrate? Perhaps, if you're desperate for an upside. 

The better news is that I had a wonderful kayak breakfast on Gardom Lake with Mo on Sunday and yesterday I picked all the Italian plums on my tree. They are delicious. I froze some in heavy freezer bags and boiled others into compote for winter. And I am reading a wonderful book, Utopia for Realists , by Rutger Bregman. He's a young Dutch writer I first heard of on PBS', 'Amanpour and Company', a programme I really like. He is well known for this book and for his TED Talk, ' Poverty isn't a Lack of Character, it's a Lack of Cash'. All is not lost. 

I thought this was a really small island on Gardom Lake but it turned out to be a very old raft with a diving board on it that probably hadn't been used in many years. 

This is a picture of Jay taken last week. He has been working out for years, sometimes at gyms but mostly at home doing weights, calisthenics and yoga with a minimum of equipment. It is paying off. 

Are we almost there yet?

In August, 1914, German Emperor Wilhelm 11 promised the departing soldiers that they would be home before the leaves fell. Many around the world, especially in the military, did not share his optimism, but lots of young men left enthusiastically for the front. 

It's now September, 2020; the leaves will soon change from green to their fall coat of many colours, so Covid 19 better get a move on if it's going to be gone before they fall. Of course, nobody said it would be; although, a couple of wanna be dictators swore it didn't even exist. 

That's enough of that comparison. Sitting in the house resting after a rewarding morning of working in the yard is far removed from huddling in a muddy trench as bullets whip overhead and mustard gas snakes toward you. But I am sick of Covid 19; just as the Monty Python gang was sick of the Swiss. I don't have it. I don't know anyone who does. All we have are statistics,  videos of crowded ICU wards, admonishments from scientific and medical experts and some very touching eulogies following the news. After six months of that, it takes some effort to make the imaginative leap into action required to enthusiastically follow preventative measures that just seem more tiresome than necessary. But then beneath the surface lurks the unknown, the fear of which is the worst and pushes us to worry, not so much me and my friends; although, we're the ones who seem to die from this virus, but younger people whose work and family life are threatened. Jay's school is closed again this week, and he worries that it might be extended as S. Korea, like many countries, is recording an increase in new cases of Covid. Parents in Canada are nervously having to decide whether or not to send their children to start classes in school again this week or next. The people and the economies of every country in the world are seriously threatened by this virus. After decades of thinking we were in control: eating right, exercising, getting educated, working, etc., etc., we lucky few in the first world are now being smacked by the fact that the unknown is unmanageable and unavoidable. 

As usual, I count on Jay to remind me of the lighter side, which is odd as he is the one who really suffers from anxiety and depression, but then maybe not. He has spent a lifetime battling those demons, and I just fall into their shallows once in a while. At any rate, he sent me a picture of May at the beauty parlour about a week ago. I couldn't believe it. She was under an octopus of a curling contraption the likes of which I hadn't seen since I went with mom to her hairdresser when I was very young. And even then it was not being used. The owner of the shop had bought it as an intriguing artifact to add interest to the place. 

May after the procedure. Beautiful. From the 1920s to the 2020s

Revelstoke

Lynne Young and I spent four days in Revelstoke this past week. Other than going on the Eva Lake hike near Revelstoke with the Vernon Outdoors Club a few years ago, I had never spent any time in the area nor had I seen the town that Terry Keough comes from; although I had seen his painting of it. I was impressed with the town itself and the recent improvements made to the mountain area, which I had heard a lot about. It has always been known as a CPR hub and an area where really good skiers go for the snow and steep runs, but increasingly it is becoming a four season tourist area with facilities for all levels of skiers, mountain bikers, climbers and hikers. Lynne and I visited the CPR Railway Museum before registering in our hotel on Tuesday afternoon. We were impressed by the exhibits showing the monumental labour involved in getting the tracks through the Rogers Pass and across the mountains in general. The Rogers Pass route through the Selkirk Mountains which was used between approximately 1885 and 1916 was difficult to build and dangerous to operate, largely because of avalanches. 

Our hike on Thursday was the Great Glacier hike which starts near the site of Glacier House, a luxurious CPR Hotel that attracted tourists from all over the world to climb, hike and site see from 1887 until soon after the CPR line ceased to use the Rogers Pass. It was finally torn down in 1925 but parts of the heavy stone foundation remain near the trailhead. The glacier that guests at Glacier House could have walked to has receded to such an extent that we could only glimpse it in the distance. Aside from the views, one of the best parts of the hike was the fact that it followed one of the many small meltwater rivers flowing from the glaciers, so we were always within the sound of running water. 

Our hike on Wednesday was the Stoke Climb Trail which starts at the top of the second gondola. It also was a moderate hike with wonderful views. 

We drove home on Friday, stopping to walk to two waterfalls before continuing on highway 23 and on to highway 6. I was glad that Lynne had suggested this route because I had never driven it and it included two short ferries. 

Melt water pouring off the glacier

The group that went on the Stoke Trail hike

"Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. "

That commandment came to my mind as I finished writing to Tracey Van de Vyvere, Bert's daughter, this morning. Her son, Ian, was diagnosed with melanoma about a year ago, but I didn't hear about it until her sister Lisa emailed me this week to say that the original cancer had metastasized to such an extent that Ian was in great pain and had recently been going back and forth between the hospital and hospice. She told me about a parade of special cars that had been organized to drive past the hospital especially for him. Cars have been his passion since he was very young. He still is far too young to be enduring so much pain. I watched a video of the parade and forwarded it to Jay. We were both moved by the way Ian and Tracey spoke on the video. I wrote to Tracey to let her know that we were thinking of them and hoping for the best. But I have since heard back from her that they have been told there is no hope of Ian's survival. The medical staff is doing its best to ease his pain and the family is with him giving him all the love they can to help him in his passage out of this life and into the unknown. 

It is Sunday as I write this. I don't know why that commandment came into my mind unless it is because as I sit here I realize that we do need to take time now and then to do nothing and let what is inside out. I often end up writing in such moments. When I begin I don't know what I'll write about, if anything. I discover by writing it down that it is meaningful me. At times, as now, the process makes me cry and gives me a momentary headache. But once it's down in words I feel a bit relieved. Even I, whose life has been comparatively easy, need some means of lightening the weight of living: rewarding work, time spent with family and friends, getting outside in nature or just taking moments to rest and write and let whatever's inside out. 

When the agony of this time slowly diminishes, I hope that Tracey and her family will have moments of rest and somehow find peace.

We had a wonderful early spring and a wet late spring and early summer. Now it's Okanagan summer with all that that entails in the way of sun and fun. The locals are happy. The Albertans are back. Many locals are not happy about that. This is the summer long weekend. The beaches are crowded with people lazing on towels or just offshore on enormous bright coloured floaties. Water levels are down now, so motor boats are roaring around the lakes again. Strangely, the price of gas is also down to $105.9 a litre. That's lower than it was last week. Usually prices go up during the summer holidays. Maybe the gas companies are giving people a break in this time of Covid 19; although, that's uncharacteristic of them. Or are they desperate to keep their gas guzzling, big boat and vehicle supporters on side in these days of less travel and increasing concern about the environment? Whatever the explanation is, the heat is on in the Okanagan to such an extent that Kelowna has had a spike in Covid cases in the last while. It now has a newly hired and trained Covid brigade patrolling its streets and beaches reminding people to remember Dr. Bonnie Henry's words: Be calm. Be polite. Maintain physical distance. Wash your hands, etc., etc. I wish them well. It's not going to be easy to keep high powered, skimpily dressed, drinking, drugging summer funsters calm and apart. 

I of course am not numbered among the funsters. But I do enjoy the shoulder hours of the day: walking, biking and kayaking before noon;  weeding and watering the yard in the evening. I open every window at night and close them all in the morning. In the heat of the day I close the blinds and sit or lie down in front of a fan to read or refresh (snooze). 😂Ah, the quiet joys of old age. I continue to try not to use the air conditioning. I have many justifications for that, ranging from believing that the artificial coolness  followed by excessive heat is bad for the health to saying that we have a short season of real heat and I want to fully experience it. Increasingly I can add concern for the environment to the list. And there is also the fact that I have more trouble than most parting with 💰. 

Lusia and I on a morning walk along the BX Creek to the falls, one of the shadiest places in Vernon. 

Mo in her new kayak on our first breakfast paddle on Swan Lake