The West Commences: Remembrance Day

It’s four o’clock on Sunday, November 11, 2012; the sun’s going down on what was a mostly grey day. I talked on the phone yesterday with mom and dad about the fact that if we wanted to watch the Remembrance Day Service live on CBC television, we would have to be up at 7:30 am this morning. Mom, although this must have been the case ever since they moved to BC more than 30 years ago, seemed to take it as another unanticipated arrow from outrageous fortune’s quiver, aimed specifically at her. She just couldn’t believe it was happening and couldn’t imagine getting up in time. She was in a low ‘lorn’ mood, brought on by living so long either with or in dread of pain. Her only other gear is full tilt enthusiasm, and she soon shifted to that when I mentioned I had made the Christmas cake and already given it the first sprinkling of brandy. She and dad have always liked sweets, but lately they love them, in spite of the fact that mom always used to say, “You can’t love an inanimate object, Jan.”

I was awake around 7:30, so I turned on the tv and watched the ceremony in Ottawa as I prepared for the day. I actually sat down just before eleven for the Last Post, gun salute, Lament, Rouse and fly past. It was very moving; I thought of both dad and Jim, especially when the lone piper played. After breakfast, I dressed warmly and walked to the Westbild Centre in Vernon where the service here was being held inside. As I was unsure of where the place was and walking quickly because of the cold, I ended up blocks past my destination by the time I went into a gas station to ask where it was. A young man who was filling up his car asked me if I wanted a ride there, but as I was still early, I thanked him and walked back. At first the whole scene was a bit depressing, a hockey arena. But there were lots of people there, a good band, a pipe band, and aside from a boring clergyman who was MC and a couple of awkward speakers, it was a moving ceremony. There were many wreaths laid by people in a variety of uniforms. Among them, the most exotic were the representative from the Knights of Columbus and the two Knights Templar. When the latter were announced as they went to lay their wreath, I was stunned. I had been watching them and wondering who they were. There was nothing as extravagant as they were at the War Memorial in Ottawa. Knights Templar! The last time I had heard of them was in a documentary on the Knowledge Network a long time ago. I associated them with the Crusades and the Island of Malta. What were they doing in Vernon, BC. I looked them up when I got home, and the Knights Templar have a Sovereign Great Priory of Canada branch here, Preceptory #72, Okanagan, Vernon. I found it on Google maps. It’s about six blocks from where I live, near the Phoenix Steak House, so I guess that it wasn’t just one bird that rose from the fire. And judging by the hats these fellows were wearing, that bird is lucky if it has any feathers left at all.

On Saturday night I went with Mo and John to see the new Bond movie, ‘Skyfall’. I hadn’t even thought about going, but I’m very glad that John suggested it and was able to get tickets on line. It was sold out and well worth seeing. I didn’t see ‘Dr No’ in 1962, but it eventually was the fist James Bond movie I ever saw. I fell in love with Sean Connery. Daniel Craig is grittier but equally attractive, and this time there is the added spice of Javier Bardem as the evil Raoul Silva. They’re both good actors, and the make up work done on Javier Bardem is shocking, especially in one scene. The opening action scene was even better than in ‘Casino Royal’ and ‘Quantum Solace’. It was followed by a mix of the new, troubled, rugged, beer-drinking Bond and the classic, suave, shaken-not-stirred 007. I can see why it’s making billions; the trailers we saw before it, and they were numerous as the theatre had a huge captive audience to pitch to, looked pretty unappealing to me. Bond hits a wide market.

The only other news is that I’m having a crisis with my hair. I put in an auburn shade of the non- permanent color that I often use, not realizing that I had had real dyed streaks put into my hair before going east in August. Well, the dyed parts turned bright cellophane red and the rest stayed mousy brown and grey. What a mess. I thought of rubbing the left over walnut casings that I had used with such success on the floor into my hair, but Mo suggested what I had also thought of; it might go green like Anne Shirley’s. Anyway, a day later I did try it on a strand, which didn’t go green, and then on the whole head. I boiled the walnut leftovers with a bit of vinegar, and when this brew cooled, I held my head over the sink and poured it on. What a mess of bits of walnut husk everywhere, and to little effect. It took me ages to rinse it all out. Then Mo let me try a dark dye/rinse that she uses. It dulled the red a bit more. I hope I’ve slaked my thirst for experimentation. I’m going to stay as I am for a while. At least I no longer look like a Christmas hamper at a rural bazaar. I can live with this color, and as I’m living alone, I don’t have to worry about Jim telling me I look like a cashier at the IGA as he did after one of my earlier hair experiments.

I awoke at 7:30 this morning, Monday, to a layer of snow on the ground that justified getting out and shoveling. It was so quiet and warm that I went beyond my civic responsibility of the front sidewalk and cleaned off the car and parking area too. It continued snowing, but because the parts I had shoveled were bare, the new stuff didn’t stick and now it has stopped and they’re still clear. The temperature is supposed to rise to 4 today, so it is an easy adjustment to winter so far.