The West Commences: Victoria Day, 2014

Victoria Day began very well, with a great chat with Jay and May at 7:00am. And after two days of rain, it looks blue and sunny outside.

I’ve been talking with mom every evening, just after her dinner and before mine. Dad seems to be doing well. Her central theme is the wonderful care he is getting. Even he admits that every part of him, mentionable and un, is being thoroughly washed, and she can’t believe how clean shaven he is. His main problem seems to be ordering his meals. In spite of having no gravy one night and no coffee another, he persists in dismissing the instruction at the top of the order page that says you have to check off everything you want. However, last night he didn’t get any dessert because he hadn’t indicated he wanted it. For a man who loves sweets, that was a hard lesson. I think he will have learned from it. Mom hopes so because she had to leave him the part of a peanut butter granola bar that was left from her afternoon tea and that she had hoped to finish at night with her tea, watching the news. Perhaps she shouldn’t have softened the blow of no sweet; she may have missed the teachable moment. Dad is supposed to begin physiotherapy on Tuesday.

The hike up Sugarloaf went well in spite of the fact that the weather was less than perfect. It rained off and on all day, but the trail was in good shape because it is mostly through tall firs and pines. The branches kept off the drops and the ground in many places was dry. However, as we approached the lunch spot, a misty cloud blew over making it cool and rainy. We found sheltered places at the base of trees and ate, still with a view over Lake Okanagan. The rain stopped as we hiked down; it didn’t begin again until we were driving home, at which pointed it pelted. I now feel that I can help with more clearing expeditions, hikes and rambles, which makes me happy because the VOC has made my move to Vernon much more enjoyable than it otherwise would have been, and I would like to do my part.

I wish someone would knock the fedora off the head and smile off the face of Goodluck Jonathan. He seems to be reveling in the international attention now being paid to him instead of seriously trying to find and free the kidnapped Nigerian girls.

I’ve always liked the Habs’, even though I hardly watch hockey now. I don’t worship them, as many Montrealers seem to but I did enjoy their series against Boston. CBC had a show on them in which they interviewed a Roman Catholic priest and mentioned that the goalie, Carey Price is being referred to as Jesus Price. I laughed at that, but the smile was wiped off my face this morning when I heard that he has been injured and will probably not play again this season. The Habs’ chances of making it to the finals are seriously diminished by that.