The West Commences: Back in Vernon

Bill and I drove to Vernon from Victoria on Friday. Dad is still frail and mom seems tired, but they are determined to stay in their apartment as long as they can. We did everything we could to help them adjust to a new life with more home care and then thought we should leave and let them see how it works because if we had stayed, they would have depended on us for a lot and not got an idea of how they can manage on their own. I hope it works. As I had nothing but newspaper and plastic in the house, we walked to a sports bar and settled into its warmth with noisy Canucks fans. We spent a few happy hours drinking beer brewed in Vernon and eating mussels and tacos, an odd but tasty mix. Bill volunteered to help me on Saturday, but as I needed time to think of what to do and in what order, he left by bus for Whitecourt, Alberta to visit with Matti, Lindsay and their new baby, Cleo.

Now it’s 6:00p.m. Sunday, April 17, 2011, and I’m at the computer after a busy day. I feel a bit guilty because it’s Palm Sunday and if I hadn’t heard the bells tolling in the morning at the Anglican Church across the street I wouldn’t even have known that. Jim and I spent a Palm Sunday in Mexico watching peasants seated on blankets in front of churches bending strips of palm fronds into crosses. But that was 15 years ago and Barb says that Semana Santa in La Penita is quieter than usual, so even in Mexico the call is muted.

I began the day by folding more boxes and putting more newspaper and bubble wrap into clear plastic bags; that’s how Vernon handles recycle. When I first arrived, I thought the girls who had been renting the house had taken the recycle and garbage containers. As they seem to have taken the broiling pan, I assumed they weren’t above that. But when I asked the neighbor across the street to watch the house while I was in Victoria, I mentioned the missing bins and she told me that in Vernon, one separates recycle material and puts it into clear plastic bags for pickup. Garbage goes in black bags. So that’s what I’m doing. After that drudgery, I remembered a Sunday tradition that has nothing to do with Easter, the Sunday drive. I went on one. I did have a purpose, to investigate 2 nurseries that had been recommended to me. After unpacking, my second order of business is to plant a high and instant hedge between me and the next door neighbor with the ‘issues’ and the towering trailer home. I want to see something other than flapping plastic when I look out the side window in the bedroom. First I drove west, towards Kamloops, and up into the hills a bit. I ran into rain and even snow but found the nursery and a woman there who was a big help. Then I drove east, toward Nelson and another nursery. I passed through beautiful rolling ranchland with dark colored thickset cattle grazing by the road. Another woman helped me a lot, and now I’m waiting for their phonecalls with details and quotes. I measured the area I want hedged; I think I’ll need 10 ten foot cedars and 7 seven foot ones. Maybe I’ll turn to numerology like Pierre in War and Peace.

I ended the work day by filling the car with carefully folded boxes to take to the big recycle centre and by putting all the clear plastic bags on the back porch. Now I’m going to make grilled cheese sandwiches and cut up vegetables to eat while watching t.v., maybe the end of the Canucks’ game. My parents are fans, and I caught the fever while staying with them.