Livelier News from the Vernon Arts Scene

In the last few weeks I have got to know Misia, a young Polish artist chosen as one of the artists in residence who will visit Vernon throughout the year and stay in the Caetani House, the family home of Sveva Caetani a local artist.  She is working on a project that incorporates aspects of our local environment and life into her art. 

She is a contagiously enthusiastic person who joined the Vernon Outdoors Club in her quest to get to know the area.  I have been on a few hikes and rambles with her and also walked with her a couple of times up to the Black Rock, my favourite neighbourhood site.  I knew she would appreciate not only the view of the three lakes that you get from there but also the ever-changing graffiti on the walls of the abandoned water reservoir. It was while walking around the top of the wall with her that I saw for the first time the words, "July 20th, 1909" written into the concrete at one point.  I had never walked all the way around before.  Many old locals think that the graffiti is just the scrawl made by druggies who go up there to get high, and it sometimes is crude and vulgar.  But often it is well done.  I can't always read it but you can see that it is thoughtfully executed.  I had seen on Misia's website that when she was on a similar residency in Italy she was fascinated by things other than the beauty of nature, so I thought she would enjoy seeing the graffiti.  She did.  She will work it into her project somehow and in the process make a brief reference to me because she associates me with words.  Unfortunately, I will be in China when she makes her presentation, but we will keep in touch and she will send me the link to her work.

As we were walking one day it occurred to me that she would like to see the Ballets Jazz de Montreal. I had just bought a ticket to their performance here.  She said that she had thought of going but tickets were too expensive, so I gave her $20.00 dollars that I had in my pocket to lower the price for her.  Last night I picked her up at the Caetani and we went together.  I have seen them before and liked their work, but last night's show was exceptional.  It was brilliant and energetic and went from indigenous, Rodrigo Pederneiras' "Rouge", to intimate,Benjamin Millepied's "Closer" to the frenetic pace of daily life today, Andonis Foniadakis' "Kosmos".  We stayed for the discussion with the artistic director, Louis Robitaille after the show.  I don't normally do this because I feel so ill at ease in such sessions where people ask their questions that sometimes make me feel embarrassed for some reason.  But I stayed for her sake and learned what I often do, that it's usually a good idea to put myself in situations that I too easily avoid. We both left the Art Centre energized. We didn't talk much but she said something that cracked me up. She mentioned how good Louis's English was, which is true but went on to add that he hardly had any accent, which is not.  His accent was extremely and attractively French.  In fact I think that that is half the reason why I listened so attentively to him and ignored the questions he was asked.

The last flowers in Polson Park.  I took this picture while on a bike ride with Mo and John yesterday.  The next time I'm on a bike I will be in Vietnam.

October 1

The days are getting shorter, and we rest in the sunny spots instead of the shade when we are biking or hiking.Those are the main signs of fall that I have felt so far.  The poplars are yellowing, but the larch are still green; there are very few trees with fiery leaves in the Okanagan.  I'm going to see The Cowboy Junkies tonight at the Arts Centre.  Patrice asked weeks ago if I wanted to join her.  I'm glad I said yes because it's been a good day, but it's rainy and cool now and the music might liven me up.

Jay and the gang are moving to their new place today.  They are renting a house with a yard, a garage a good view and a 70 year old man in the basement apartment.  I haven't seen it yet, nor have they come by today, so I guess they will move the stuff that's here later.  I have invited them for dinner Sunday. 

 I went for a really good fall bike ride with some friends on Wednesday.  We were on the roads back of Lumby and stopped on the way back at a farm where we bought so many vegetables that my panniers were more loaded than they have ever been.  I bought two huge cabbages.  This morning I used much of the green one to make cabbage rolls for tomorrow.  I googled a good way to separate the leaves.  You remove the core and place the whole cabbage in the microwave for 5-6 minutes.  It's not dead easy; I still had to work on them under running water, but it's the best method I've ever used.  I then baked the rolls and hope that they taste as good tomorrow as they smelled today.

It's now Sunday.  The Cowboy Junkies did NOT liven me up. I've heard their songs on the CBC, but never before listened to their music for an extended period of time. I did last night, and it is decidedly NOT lively.  The singer, Margo Timmins admitted part way through the second set that they had only ever produced one happy song.  They are three siblings by the name of Timmins and two others, all from Toronto.  Even though an entire concert of their music is too intensely emotional and raucous for my liking, I was drawn in last night by their commitment to it.  They have a big fan base in Vernon; the Arts Centre was packed. It was the celebration of the 15th Anniversary of the Vernon Arts Centre.  Patrice and I laughed as we were leaving.  It made me think of the line, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to."  I guess they wanted to. 

The cabbages

The happy gang after eating the cabbage rolls

Another beginning

I haven't sat down to the blog in over 2 weeks.  A lot has happened.  I spent 5 days looking after 2 old dogs and house sitting for a friend of a friend who lives on the shore of Kal Lake.  From that I learned that although I miss living on water, it's not worth taking on 2 sick old dogs just to be there.

I returned to my little house in downtown Vernon and life alone in it.  Jay, May and the girls have moved out.  They haven't bought a place of their own yet; they are living in a suite in a local hotel.  The stress of the girls' starting school again, the search for a home to buy and May's worries about my having to live in the midst of it all finally became too much.  They are presently staying in a suite she found in a local hotel that is owned by Koreans and run by Filipinos.  That must be some kind of 'going around coming around'.   They have known a lot of work and difficult times in the last few years, so I'm sure things will work out.  I feel rather hollow sitting here alone in the house after not having seen any of them in over a week.  We had some raucous good times together.  I'm sure we will have more, just not at such close quarters for a while.

I have spent the last 2 days playing house for the first time in almost 15 months.  Of course Jay, May and the girls have left lots of their stuff here, including so many shoes I would need a calculator to count them; it's all in one bedroom, a large closet in the basement and Jim's Eccentricity.  The basement room and bathroom had been bursting with the girls clothes and makeup since Jay finished it, so it's fun to see it almost naked for the first time.  I can't complain about being well fed by May for over a year, but I have enjoyed rediscovering the kitchen and starting to cook again.  If I fall back into a diet of nachos and salad and chicken, yams and potatoes baked in the toaster oven again, I may long for May's food.  In fact I'm sure I will.

The last roses of summer in the yard.

The most recent addition to the front yard, a driftwood creature I lugged up from the beach the last time I was in Victoria.

The Search Is On

Jay just came into my room to show me the realtors' pages for two houses that he is quite keen on. He went to see them alone because May is working.  A first house is a big step. Talking with him, a memory of building our first one overwhelmed me for a moment, the intensity of the time.  Each decision about the drilling of the well, the placement of the septic, the Rumsford fireplace, the size of the rocks for the heat sink, the amount of overhang of the roof, the materials to make the living room floor a passive solar heat sink ...  While they were in Korea, they saved quite a bit of money so they have a good down payment and Jay has been pre approved for a mortgage, but realty seems to be on the move in the Okanagan, so they are among the many would be buyers.  It seems as if people who can't afford to buy in Vancouver are looking in Victoria and here.  

I can't put my finger on it, but there's something stirring in the girls this week.  I wouldn't call it a sysmic shift, but they're rising from the basement before noon.  School starts next week.  Jin will join Min at Seaton High School.  Imagine, their second year of school in Canada, in English.  Teenage girls appear to be doing nothing, sleeping from 2:00am until 2:00pm, but something's happening there even if what it is "ain't exactly clear".   And it ain't.  The family has done a lot in a year.  

Living in the wake of their turmoil and progress can be exhausting, even irritating, but it's not boring.  

Windy and warm in Vernon

We are all enjoying a lazy Sunday. I got back yesterday afternoon from four days of hiking around Sol Mountain Lodge with the VOC. I made it to the top of Mount Fosthall, the highest peak in the Monashees, one day, so I'm happy to do very little today.  Jay has been working hard in the extreme heat we've been having. His legs cramped so badly one night that the pain had him dancing around the bedroom like a dervish. May was laughing her head off because he looked funny. The next day he had to leave work at noon because of  cramping. Since then he's been drinking a lot of water, eating bananas and feeling better, just tired because as well as his regular work he's doing a private job. May has lots of weird shifts at the casino, and the girls have been doing a whole bunch of nothing. Today we're all doing that. 

My holiday at Sol Mountain Lodge was wonderful. About 20 of us drove 21/2 hours up from Revelstoke in trucks on a really rough logging road. We parked the trucks and hiked 1.9km to the lodge. In the winter you have to go in and out by helicopter. The lodge is plain but comfortable, the staff is friendly and the cook is a wonder. He trained in Charlottetown. His food was tasty, healthy, artfully 'plated' and practically waste free. It was a treat to be able to spend four days doing nothing but hike with friends in spectacular back country.  Some of us swam for a few seconds in Sol Lake one day. Getting to the top of Fosthall on the second day took everything I had, so on the other days I took easier hikes. A highlight of every day was the late afternoon sauna. It was such big one that even though it had an airtight stove to heat it, it never got as hot as ours used to, but it was enough so that after a dry session, cold outdoor shower, wet sauna and second shower, you were feeling no pain.  On the first day Mo and I were alone, but each day we got more converts.  My iPhone camera stopped working on the first day, so I couldn't take pictures. I hope some people will send me theirs.  

On the way to Mount Fosthall

Mount Fosthall

The VOC on Fosthall. It is the highest peak in the Manashees. When Jim and I first came to Vernon we skied at Silver Star.  We arrived in the condo we had rented at night so saw nothing, but in the morning when I opened the curtains I was overwhelmed by the sight of the luminous snow capped mountains in the distance.  Jim said they were the Monashees.  Now I have been to the top of the highest mountain in that range.  It's not a classic looking peak, and although I was exhausted by the time we got back to the lodge, it was not a difficult hike, but I felt I had come full circle to a certain extent.

The whole gang outside Sol Mountain Lodge

Back with Barbara and Terry

It's blackberry season in Victoria.  Last year Bill, Sharon and I biked by some patches on the Galloping Goose near the end of July, but this year it's the height of the season right now.  None of the wild berries is as big and sweet as the ones you buy.  In fact a lot of them are sour, but I'm getting better at picking only those that are soft, black, shiny and not so far into the bush that the deadly thorns draw blood as I pull my arm back.

For the first time since I biked with dad about 15 years ago, I went along the shore roads from Barbara and Terry's in Vic West to the house that Liz and Ross rented in Cadboro Bay.  It was a good change from the Galloping Goose.  Drivers in downtown Victoria and along Dallas Road and Beach Drive go slowly and are used to sharing the road with bikers.  On the ride back I went into almost every road and path that led to the ocean and walked the beaches a bit.  I really enjoyed that. 

Every time I go out in the kayak I learn something new.  Last time it was raising the seat with some styrofoam and this time I finally figured out how to adjust the seat so that I am not sitting too far forward.  Since my first impulse is to do something the wrong way, one of my greatest sources of delight is eventually discovering the right way and for a brief thrilling moment thinking I've invented the wheel.  This time I paddled up the Gorge to a bridge where the water swirled so much that I chickened out, turned around and went back to the inner harbour.

Staying with Barbara and Terry is the usual wonderful holiday.  They've had quite a few friends and relatives staying with them this summer.  On my first day here I joined them for a delicious lunch of leftovers, a lot of good things that remained after their last guests had left.  Yesterday, we drove to Saxe Point Park and then went out for lunch.

The Walkerton Van de Vyveres provide the big news.  Brian had a mild stroke in July but is recovering well at home now and David and Dana have a daughter, Leah.  She was born in the early morning of Aug.8 and weighed 9.03 lbs.

A gilt gate and wedding cake fountain in Uplands

Me with my bike in James Bay Park at the tree where we took Jay's picture when he was 5 and 15

A heron I drifted up to in my Kayak near the shipyard on the Gorge

Barbara and Terry at Saxe Point Park

Leah Van de Vyvere

Waiting for the 4:00pm ferry to Victoria

It's been a perfect day for a drive to Victoria, and now I just have a one hour wait for the next ferry. I'm sitting against a parched looking poplar, under a clear, blue sky. There's a breeze off the ocean that's fresh and only tainted occasionally by diesel fumes as transports pass.  People are calmly waiting around after a hectic drive.  There was quite a bit of traffic between Hope and here. The PetroCan in Hope was packed; I had to back into the one space left.  People looked harried both there and at the McDonald's where I stopped for a medium Americano, which wasn't bad for $2.50.  It and the apparently contagious spirit of rush kept me awake all the way here, so for the first time ever on this trip I didn't take a nap in Hope.  Driving in BC in summer, like old age, is not for the faint of heart.  But now I'm metaphorically in "port after stormy sea".  And the sea ahead looks calm.  

Jay is finding some faults in the running of On Side, but is still a willing worker.  May has worked enough shifts at the Casino to have been given more responsibility and let in on some of the gossip.  The girls continue to rest up for the fall; although May has been giving them more and more housework to do and controlling her urges to redo the things that don't quite meet her standards.

What a wonderful ride on the ferry.  I owe a lot to mom and dad and Babara and Terry for giving me a reason to take it so often.  It now costs $63.15, one way for a senior. Sometimes that seems like a lot, but at this moment, sitting on a bench on the starboard side, in a breeze that is a buffeting wind at the bow, watching the dark green islands sitting in the sea with the sun's light brilliant in front of them and the distant hills dark beyond, iced in a thin line of white clouds beneath a pastel blue sky, I can't count the cost.  Neither my words nor my poor old iPhone 4S camera can do it justice.  Soon I'll be walking up and down the docks at the Oak Bay Marina as the sun goes down.  It's the only marina I know of that is completely unlocked.  Anyone can wander around among the boats.  The first time I remember doing it was years ago with dad.  We were having fun commenting on the names of the boats.  One raised his ire.  It was 'We're here'.  I had just been thinking it was not a bad name for a boat that sailed from port to port when dad scoffed," I'll give you a dollar for the sexual orientation of the owner of that boat".   He followed this with a brief chant of, "We're here.  We're queer."  He'd had enough of pride parades in Victoria.  This reminded me of mom's anger over the fact that homosexuals had made her word 'gay' their own.  The 'Gay Girls' who played bridge every Thursday were now just 'The Girls' and she wasn't happy about it.  By their mid 80s they readily admitted that the world was a strange place to them.  My dad never was able to tolerate even the smell of garlic but he did finally and reluctantly recognize that Canada was now full of people who actually ate it.  My mother never accepted the fact that you could wear anything you wanted anywhere, even joggers and things that looked like pyjamas in an airport. And these people even hugged their pillow under their arm as they sprawled over the floors and chairs of the waiting room playing with their 'devices' as they awaited their flights. She and dad had dressed in suit, tie and fur coat to go to the evening hockey games in Thunder Bay in the 50s.  They had nothing to do with computers and only a tenuous hold on the tv remote.  It's just over a year since mom died and returning to Victoria fills me with memories of them, even the things that drove me crazy come back as stories that make me smile, better remembered than lived through.  

The South Korean military band at the Vernon Military Tattoo.  They were the hit of the show for me and many of the others there.  As you can see, they don't fit the stereotype of a military band; they had dancers, acrobats and a weird two man animal, as well as screeching horns that weren't as stirring as bagpipes but were almost as loud and potentially irritating.  Koreans are a strange mix of regimentation and whimsy.  

May and I picked these apricots from a friend's tree one evening last week. It was fun, but we couldn't eat them all so I made two kinds of jam and ruined the last ones by trying to dry them without a real fruit dryer.