September's coming

Eleven more sleeps before I leave for Korea.  Jay phoned last night using a new app that allows him to call long distance using his regular minutes.  It was great to pick up the phone and hear his voice.  I can make an audio call to his cell using Skype, but his system is more direct.  It’s as if he were in Vernon, or Canada at least.  But he’s not, and I do look forward to giving and getting a hug.

My thighs are burning today.  After 2 Sundays without hiking, I went for a good one yesterday.  It’s called Vista Pass, and the vista is of the chain of peaks known as the Pinnacles.  I had done it in Aug. 2011, but didn’t remember how spectacular the views are from the lunch stop.  My thigh muscles seem to have forgotten a bit too.  I thought I’d been keeping in shape this summer but obviously I hadn’t.  There was nothing difficult, just a series of rises that stretch the lungs a little going up but are harder on the thighs on the way down.  I went to the film club’s movie this evening, and when I stood up at the end, I almost fell back into the seat.  I felt like a really old half miler because the movie was called ‘Storm Surfers,’ about two Australian ‘best mates’ who are practically 50 and are still looking for the ultimate big wave.  The workout my thighs got on Sunday’s hike isn’t a spark compared to the raging inferno their muscles survive riding the waves they do.  They were fun to watch and listen to, but I’ve never been a committed grinder like that.

I’ve been biking a few times with Mo and John to a couple of beaches in Kal Park where we swim and cool off.  It’s a wonderful way to spend a morning.  The long summer continues in Vernon; a warm breeze accompanied me as I walked home from the early show at 7:30pm.  Now at 8:00, the sun is already below the church across the street.  The day is fading.  September's coming.

Our bikes by the water at Juniper Beach on Lake Kalamalka

An apple orchard between us and Kal Lake on the ride home from the beach

One of the many views from the lunch stop on the Vista Pass hike

Peachy

It’s blazing hot, and I’m baking French bread.  I’m only partly crazy because this little house keeps cool if I follow my procedures, and this morning on the bike ride we stopped at a farm selling wonderful tomatoes.  I bought some and got them home safely in the new panniers.  Now I want to cut one up, put basil and oil on it and eat it with the fresh bread.  I’m not sure how great the latter will be because I haven’t made bread in about 15 years, and the recipe I’m using is one from The Joy of Cooking that mom gave me when I got married.  I don’t think I’ve ever used that recipe before.  I had a good one that Caroline Pollock gave me, but I couldn’t find it.  Oh well.  The bread’s in the oven now and looks a bit flat, but if it even comes close to the thought that got me started on the project, I’ll be content.  I think I can afford to eat bread and olive oil because Miriam, Jane and I biked again this morning on the route that Miriam refers to as the training run, training for what I don’t know.  None of us is going on the bike camp this year.  It’s a short (19km) ride, but really hilly.  Some of the hills are the kind I like, short and steep, preceded by a bit of a downhill run, but others are long, low grinders that kill me.  What you are comes out in everything you do.  I’m gung ho for short spurts and usually lead Jane, but she never quits and grinds up the long low grades without breaking a sweat.  I can usually maintain the lead but I’m always dripping wet.  We’re the hare and the tortoise while Miriam who was a better athlete than either of us before she got Parkinson’s keeps up a good pace and pops on the motor if she has to.      

 I’m going to have to water the cedars, etc really well this evening because I haven’t watered in about 5 days.  Thunderstorms have been predicted but never materialized.  I’ve never had to pay more than the minimum water rate but in the next bill I’m sure I’ll be well over that.  I’m experiencing the true, hot, dry Okanagan summer this year.  Yesterday just walking home from the library (5 min.) I felt the sun was going to sear my back through my blouse.  On the up side, I’ve never eaten so many and such sweet juicy peaches in my life as I have in the last few weeks.  I was even moved to freeze some.  And today after our ride when we were having coffee and muffins at Marian’s, her husband brought us a bowl of huge, sweet mulberries.  I’d never had them before; they’re delicious, much better than any black berries I’ve eaten; although, they resemble them.  He even gave Jane and me each a goji berry.  I can’t rave about them, but the fact that he even has some testifies to his determination to grow things that are not usually grown in the Okanagan. 

I volunteered, along with Bill and Miriam, at the Mile High wine tasting event at Silver Star last Saturday.  The work wasn’t onerous, even the ‘spittoons’ that we had to empty were not really disgusting.  However, Bill was disappointed because last time they had been allowed to taste as they worked but this time the liquor laws were strictly enforced and we weren’t.  We did each get a bottle of Okanagan wine and a glass at the end.  I went back to their place for a dinner and tasting.  Miriam and I had each received white wines, so we chilled them in the freezer and sipped them after the meal.  They were both very good, but mine was especially fine.  It was a blended white called Harmony White from a small organic winery, Kalala Winery, in West Kelowna.  The owners are from India and the name Kalala is from her home region and means, miracle place.  Bill had read good things about their wine, and we were all happy to try it.

I don't know what this wine is like, but it reminded me of Mara Pollock because of its presentation in a high heel.  She loves shoes.  The winery is called Dirty Laundry and this white is named Secret Affair.

This is the raunchy rock and blues band that added to the atmosphere of the Mile High wine tasting evening.

Dry

It’s been a quiet and dry BC long weekend.  I could have used a bit more action and a lot more liquid, water for the cedars and liquor for me.  I’m only joking about the liquor; although, I haven’t had much to drink in the last few weeks because I’ve had a mild case of vertigo and a few headaches, both of which seem to be less evident if I don’t drink alcohol.  But I have had the odd drink, mostly gin and tonic, and it really doesn’t seem to make much difference.  I’ve heard of a few other people with similar symptoms, one with much more serious vertigo; Mo says it might be a virus.  Viruses seem to be on the rise, or perhaps not.  I don’t follow medical trends too closely.  I did hear the other day that recent tests have shown that the strength of many antibiotics is being enhanced by the addition of minute amounts of silver, but that has nothing to do with viruses.  That’s the medical section of this blog. 

The cedars really could use more water.  Vernon has just experienced its driest July on record, and I was here for most of it.  Campfires were banned this long weekend, and people are talking a lot about the devastating fires of 2003.  I’ve been watering the cedars and some new plum and hazelnut trees that I bought this year, as well as the Ben Conan black current plants that Miriam’s husband gave me.  Some dark clouds have passed over town this weekend, but only a few drops have fallen from them, so I will water again this evening.

Jay and May are happily settled in their new apartment, not without a great deal of planning and one big, unexpected hitch.  But as long as a shock isn’t killing, it’s stimulating and being galvanized into action can make you bright, which was the case with them.  They solved the problem with some quick action and the help of friends.  My problem with the reluctant flusher was solved by Kirsten on Wednesday.

On Friday, I went to Marlin Travel with all my visa application material.  They will send it to the Chinese Embassy in Vancouver, and I should have the visa sometime next week.  I’ve almost finished Oracle Bones by Peter Hessler.  I got it in Victoria at Russell Books, a store Barbara recommended.  It’s a well-written fusion of his knowledge of Chinese history and experience as a freelance writer there between 1999 and 2005.  When I told Miriam about it, she gave me a set of dvds in the ‘Great Courses’ series that she and her husband bought.  This one is called, ‘From Yao to Mao: 5,000 Years of Chinese History.’  She told me that Professor Kenneth J. Hammond who presents the series is knowledgeable and that his changing ties provide a little visual interest.  He wears the same blue shirt and khaki pants all the time but changes ties for each lecture.  I have now watched 2 ties.  I hadn’t watched any dvds since I moved in so had to phone a Shaw service agent to help me switch the system before I could begin.  At least I will have  learned how to do that even if I remember little else. When you live alone, you have a lot of time alone, but my friends are certainly helping me fill it.  The problem is that my brain doesn’t have as much space as I have time; it can’t retain everything.  At least wonderful ideas are washing over it and that’s enjoyable to experience whether or not anything is being stored.

I don't have any photos this week, so I had to use a shot from the archives.

As I type this, Jay, May and the girls are probably waking on the morning of their move.  Jay and May’s brother will be doing the heavy lifting, May will be running around finishing up the paper work and the girls will go home from school to a new apartment.  I hope it’s not as hot in Incheon as it is here today.  I enjoyed a slow morning finishing the Saturday ‘Globe and Mail’ over coffee.  I get it from Mo and John most Sunday nights when I’m there for dinner.  I was at the library when it opened at 10 to have the first of two classes there with Lucia’s kids.  I walked around downtown doing some shopping from noon until about 1:30 and came directly back to the cool dark house to spend the rest of the afternoon.  I’ve been hiking and biking with Mo and John lately; we meet at 8 and are home by noon.  It’s best to be either in doors or in the water between 12 and 6.  I water the cedars every other evening, open the windows when the sun goes down and turn on my new fan in whichever room I am.  I usually keep it running all night and turn it off in the morning, shut the windows when I get up and the blinds as the sun moves into the west.  It cools down to about 15c at night, so with this routine, the house stays comfortable. 

Last night the Vernon Film Club showed, ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist.’  I liked it.  The sets and sound track shifted back and forth from the glass offices and cool deals of Wall Street to the chaos and color of the streets and tea shops of Lahore.  The characters were also torn between these extremes.  The main character, Changez, was played very well by a British actor and rap singer whom I had never seen before, Riz Ahmed.  All the acting was good; the story was gripping and not without nuance.  I’d give it two thumbs up.  Hell, now that I can do it again, I’d give it two arms up. The preview was for a movie with Forest Whittaker called ‘The Butler’, which I will definitely go to.

Moving from movies to the more mundane, tomorrow I get a new toilet.  I’ve put up with my reluctant flusher for as long as I can.  Kristin, the woman who did most of the renovating of this house before Jim and I bought it has helped me with a few things lately, and tomorrow she will replace the toilet that hasn’t flushed properly since I moved in.  I can’t wait.  Even a retired person has enough to do without having to wait after flushing to make sure she doesn’t have to flush again.

Yesterday when I arrived home from biking and going to the market, there was a message from RBC saying that the $500.00 Can. in Korean won and $1,000.00 Can. in Chinese renminbi that I had ordered last week had arrived, so I walked downtown to pick them up.  They are now stashed in my secret hiding place awaiting the end of August, as am I.

Me standing in front of a corn field in the hat and dress I bought last year in Korea.  Jay thought the dress was corny, a house dress.  Perhaps it is.  I hadn't realized how bow legged it makes me look.

One of the mountain bikers in the competition that was going on at Silver Star when we hiked there last Sunday.

Burke Boyce and his bear.

Visit to Victoria

It’s Sunday, July 21, and I’m sitting on a bench in the shade of a tamarisk tree looking out to sea from the tip of the Turkey Head Walkway in Oak Bay.  A crow nearby is cawing and pulling apart something he’s found in the garbage can.  I don’t have my glasses on because I want to see what I’m typing, but it appears to be a whole plastic bag full of stuff.  He’s tearing at it with his beak and flinging white bits around in all directions.  In the distance is a rocky point and beyond that a few white sails dot the dark blue, rippled water.  The horizon is mist.  It’s the first day since I arrived in Victoria a week ago that the snow- topped Olympic Mountains have not been visible from here.  The weather has been wonderful.  I’ve had coffee every morning with Barbara and Terry, twice outside, once at the table and chairs in the garden off the basement suite where I stay and once on the deck above.  Coffee and a chat with them eases me into a day with the aged Ps, who are putting up a good fight, but it is a struggle.  Mom is the same as Jupiter was when he got old, full of youthful enthusiasm for short periods each day, usually before and during meals.  Dad is much more grim.  He’s happy to see me and always wants mom to have a good time but every move is difficult for him to make and he pushes his walker into his room to lie down many times a day.  He’s so thin that his bum hurts if he sits too long, so he’s happiest flat out on the bed, eyes shut, mouth open and breathing heavily.  His mind is inclined to wander, but mom won’t let it stray far; she calls him back to the concerns of the moment and because she’s genuinely helpless in many circumstances, requires him to do or say things. 

Yesterday, Barbara and Terry took us out for lunch at Swan’s in downtown Victoria.  They had asked us to their place at Christmas and then not been able to have us there because Barbara had a horrible flu, so they made up for it with Christmas in July.  Barbara brought a china Santa to decorate the table and Christmas crackers to pull.  The whole affair was festive and mom and dad loved it.  Swan’s is on a busy street corner near the harbor, so they were able to see for themselves what they had watched on t.v. the night before, the hoards of tourists, tour buses and cars that fill downtown Victoria on this its busiest summer in quite a few years.  They don’t get out of Oak Bay much now and miss the action.  Dad also enjoys a good beer and he had quite a few during my stay, at restaurants and at home drinking the beer Terry had made and given to us.  After the lunch we drove home along the water and saw many of the old cars that are here for a show this weekend.   For dinner, dad and I had eggs in the nest and mom enjoyed the last half of the Reuban sandwich she had ordered for lunch.  For dessert we finished the fat, juicy cherries that I had brought from Vernon.  The whole day was perfect; today wasn’t.  They wanted to have their usual Tim  Horton’s Sunday breakfast, not in Tim’s, which is dark and deserted on Sunday mornings, but on a bench at Willows Beach.  Mom and I went into a nearby Tim’s and brought the breakfast back to dad who waited in the car.  Then we drove to Willows.  When we got there, I had to drive and stop and slow down and stop and move on again as they debated/argued about which bench we should choose.  I made the mistake of entering in at one point and got snapped at.  Finally, we settled on a bench that was wood, not concrete, and facing out to sea but away from the sun.  The day was cool and cloudy and dad hadn’t worn a sweater, so after all the time taken choosing the perfect perch, we ate and left quite quickly.  Mom, not wanting to let any chance for fun escape her, suggested that we drive downtown again and then home along Dallas Road, as we had so successfully done yesterday.  We did that, but only to discover that not only can you not step into the same river twice, you can’t even take the same drive on two consecutive days.  This time many of the downtown streets were blocked off for special summer busker shows, art walks and antique car rallies, so the traffic was horrendous.  We were stuck in it and couldn’t get out for half an hour.  When we finally got home, dad pushed his walker into the bedroom and was flat out on the bed before I could turn on the oven and put the stew in.

This break by the ocean has been refreshing.  I’ll drive back to mom and dad’s to find them refreshed too, I hope, and eager to Skype with Jay at 5:30.  Seeing him and talking with him all the way from Korea always fills them with childlike wonder, me too.

I’m now on the ferry to Vancouver.  The Skype with Jay was all that mom and dad had hoped it would be.  I was surprised at how calm mom was.  She listened to Jay and added her comments as if he were in the room with us.  Dad was very happy to talk with Jay for a while, but he can’t sit for long so left us to continue while he wheeled his way back to his room for a lie down.  It was sad to leave them on Sunday night.  The last couple of partings have felt as if they might be the last for at least one of them, but so far they have carried on.

Barbara and Terry having coffee with me in their back yard, just outside the/my suite.

The gang celebrating Christmas in July at Swan's, near the water in Victoria

A new sculpture that caught my eye as I walked around downtown Victoria one morning

The Oak Bay Marina, near mom and dad's place

Heat

Again it’s a hot Tuesday in the Okanagan, but not hot enough to keep us inside this week.  One of the women I bike with lives in Armstrong, a small town north east of Vernon.  We met at her place about 8:45am this morning because her car has broken down so she couldn’t join us anywhere else.  We biked from there.  As usual we did about 35 km on rolling back roads.  My arm has improved so much that I’m sure I could handle more difficult rides now, but I really enjoy the company of this group of women and I don’t have to get myself strong for the fall bike trip this year because it’s in Sept., when I will be in Korea.  Armstrong is in a beautiful wide valley.  The roads are paved and roll through fields of corn, hay, grains I don’t know the names of, market gardens and even huge herb gardens.  At one point, the smell of oregano combined with that of the clover on the side of the road to create a perfume that made me want to breath deeply and never stop.  Of course we passed through other less pleasant country smells too, especially at the point where a farmer was spraying liquid manure on his fields using an irrigation sprinkler that shot the putrid yellowish stuff in a vast circle.

 Miriam and I are going to go for a swim at Jane’s again later today.  The water in Lake Okanagan is really warm; Jane didn’t think so last week, but Miriam and I swam for quite a long time.  The only time you felt cold water was if you dove deep. 

I walked down to the Town Theatre last evening to watch ‘Love is all you need’ with Pierce Brosnan.  He was certainly better in it than he was in ‘Mama Mia’.  I looked up the movie when I got home and discovered that the title in Danish is ‘The Bald Hairdresser’.   The actress, Trine Dyrholm who played the hairdresser was excellent, and the two titles together give an idea of the jumble of romantic jocoseriousness to expect.

The lazy, hazy, not much of the crazy left, days of summer are here.  I look forward to visiting mom, dad, Barbara and Terry next week in Victoria.

Otter Lake near Armstrong

Otter Lake

Resting under a willow on the shore of Otter Lake

Summer

Now it’s hot in the Okanagan.  But as with the rain, not as catastrophic as in southern Alberta, so with the heat, not as fierce as in California.  However, the humidity here on Canada Day was unusually high and made the 35 degrees feel drippingly hot.  Around 10:30am, I walked over to Polson Park to listen to the music and wander among the food and entertainment stands.  Fortunately, I ran into my friend Noreen who was there with her son and his family, sitting under a tree on a big blanket.  I joined them and at least escaped the sun.  There were lots of people there, almost all dressed in red and white.  Even the mayor, a rather sober seeming man was wearing a floppy red and white Cat in the Hat thing on his head.  As always, the ladies from the Philippines were, serving small spring rolls redolent of garlic and tender pork skewers, so lunch was no problem.  Noreen came back to my place later in the afternoon, and then I drove her to her son’s.  By the time I had dug a trench to keep the water around the cedars, watered them and had dinner, I didn’t have the energy to walk to the fireworks at the military camp, so I watched tennis at Wimbledon on tv and stood on the front porch talking with my neighbor Donna as the firecrackers boomed.  We could see all the high ones very well.

This morning on the radio I heard one of the announcers admitting that she felt guilty about the fact that she and her husband didn’t like to turn on the air conditioning.  She said that they used fans for as long as they could.  The other announcer ridiculed her.  I wanted to call her up and tell her that she should stop feeling guilty.  I’m so brazen about it that I’ve elevated the not using of air conditioning to a virtue.  However, when I tried this argument out in Korea last May, in a futile effort to convince Jay’s girls not to use the air in the place we stayed at near Seoraksan Nationl Park, Jay pulled me aside to reason with me.  His argument was that the girls come from a blisteringly hot place where those who can use air conditioning do use it and would be institutionalized as mentally deficient if they didn’t.  I had to accept this and shut up.  Today I encountered a similar argument from my friend Miriam who comes from Ireland where they didn’t even have central heating in her youth.  She firmly believes that if you can turn a switch and be comfortable, you should.  I had the windows open all night last night and am carrying on without air.  It’s still comfortably cool in the house, but if I can’t sleep tonight, maybe I will flip the switch.  We cancelled our Tuesday morning hike today because of the heat. Miriam and I are going to go swimming at Jane’s on Lake Okanagan this afternoon.  Jane says that most adults don’t seem to be going in beyond their knees, but I think I’ll be able to take it because the Gatineau River was considered too cold for swimming in by a lot of people and I liked it.  It’s summer and the hills will soon be dry and camel colored again.

Kids going wild to the music of 'Cod Gone Wild'

'Cod Gone Wild' plays lively Irish music.  None of them is Irish, although they introduced the only obviously Oriental one as Irish.

The much more sober Scots contribution to the music of Canada Day.