Gathering Loose Threads

Playing in the Snow

2012-01-30T08:58:00.000-08:00

Bryan got home from the north country this weekend and got reacquainted with Socket's puppies. He hasn't seen them for over 4 weeks, which is a long time in the life of a little dog. It was mild yesterday after a day of snow - perfect conditions to get them playing outside (the kennel is their 'safe' place).

Bravely going where no puppy from this litter has gone before.

Mom .... mom .... MOM!

OK, time to play!

Nothing better for cold toes than a cuddle from dad.

Winter Carnival, or How to Beat the Winter Blahs

2012-01-28T07:42:00.000-08:00

If you're feeling a little blah, there's nothing better to perk things up than throwing a party.

Vernon throws one of the best winter parties EVER. (The Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous in Whitehorse would be a close contender, maybe Carnaval de Quebéc - they have the ice hotel after all.)

Vernon's Winter Carnival is the BEST WINTER CARNIVAL THAT I CAN GET TO. How's that?

Following are pics from last year's carnival. Unfortunately, I missed most of it because I was over in Alberta. I intend to take in several events this year, have my tickets for both the Laugh Out Loud Festival on the 4th and the Medival Feast on the 11th. Hope to get up the mountain to the provincial snow sculpture competition at Silver Star.

Hot air balloons over Spallumcheen

Carter Classic Downhill on Silver Star

Glow - lighting up the balloons in the park

Carnival parade is very popular and well-attended

Last year's theme was Cooking with Carnival

Co-workers in the hotly contested broomball tournament, held noons on Main Street - in blue jerseys: editor Glenn Mitchell, sports writers Kevin Mitchell and Graeme Corbett

Roger Knos is our brave goalkeeper

There's even Royalty. Queen Silver Star and her princess drop the puck at the peewee tournament

Member of the Vernon Vipers hockey team trying out the speed trucks

Carnival Cops with an Arrest the Best ~~criminal~~, er victim

It's going to be a great Carnival. Come on over - bet we can find something to entertain you!

The Pomegranate Solution

2012-01-19T09:28:00.000-08:00

The bitterly cold weather is putting a damper on things. How does one cheer up when Mother Nature is showing her ugly side?

Eat pomegranates.

The delightful ruby jewel seeds of pomegranates have been adorning my meals for weeks now. I didn't know much about them, and then came upon a quinoa-spinach salad that included pomegranate seeds.

They're in season right now, and one fruit can serve up enough seeds for many, many servings.

My introduction to pomegranates a long time ago was not auspicious. Knowing what I do now, I was probably fed over-ripe fruit.

I'm suitably addicted now.

Becca is the Queen of Pomegranate Seeding. Good thing she likes them too.

We aren't as 'white' in winter as we were living up in the north country, but this is still a wonderful way to add colour to an otherwise mind-numbing monochromatic winter landscape.

Brrrr, or Why We Left the North Country

2012-01-17T12:46:00.000-08:00

This doesn't look too bad for a January forecast ..... except that it's actually Vernon temperatures. It was -19C plus windchill in Falkland this morning. The point I'm trying to make it that it is FALKLAND ..... there isn't supposed to be ugly, nasty, cold weather in Falkland. That's why we moved here.

Of course, this is what we left:

Look carefully at two points in this screen capture: The red Alert and the "Feels like:"

This is exactly why we left the north country.

Of course, Bryan is up there right now. Pity him.

All the prairies provinces are under attack from an arctic cold front that's dropped in for its annual visit.

These are the conditions in which my brothers, dad and assorted family/friends are feeding cattle:

Other assorted family and friends are enjoying the lovely weather in the middle of Alberta:

In fact, you'd be hard pressed to find spot in Canada that isn't feeling kinda ucky (the 0C in the middle of BC is actually for Vancouver - and the 0C in northern Quebec and Labrador ... well really, you want to be there?

Shoulda moved to Mexico.

Family Reunions, Familiar Strangers

2012-01-02T09:27:00.000-08:00

Great Grandmother Sarah

Happy Second Day of theNew Year!

The first day of the newyear was a quiet day for me and the little dogs, split between working on apublishing project or watching episodes of The Big Bang Theory. Considering I’dspent most of Saturday sleeping and reading, in recovery mode from my chestcold, I figured it was the least I could do. I had a very ambitious To Do listfor a three day weekend. Oh, but my laundry is all done. Check.

I did spend time yesterdayrecalling the flavor of the first 18 years of January 1^sts in my life – the McKinnon Clan Gathering.

In Scotland, New Year’sEve is called Hogmanay. I have no doubt my paternal great-grandparentscelebrated this occasion. They were married in 1893 but the genesis of the dayI remember probably didn’t really get going until the eldest children had theirfamilies. I stand to be – and mostlikely will be – corrected (Francie? Russell? Come on!)

Great Grandfather Lachlan


Whitney gathering 1914 (Sarah's family)

Suffice it to say there’sphotographic proof from the 1940s of the family gatherings of the day.

The clan gathered twice ayear: News Years Day and the third (or was it the fourth?) Sunday in July, downon the LK Ranch along the Bow River, the Home Place.

LK Ranch

Let me state here and nowfor all the members of my generation that these events were excruciating! We,the great-grandchildren, the third cousins, were familiar strangers.

Some of the cousins - thosewho lived closer together, whose parents visited each others homes or whoattended the same school or 4-H events – we knew each other a bit better andtended to stick tight.

Most of us spent timetogether only at family events: January 1, the summer picnic and occasionsusually pertinent to the sibling generation like landmark anniversaries,birthdays ending in 0 or 5, funerals (but seldom weddings, funny enough – I guessthose were more ‘immediate family’ functions).

A few of the moms recognized the rebellionrising in our little chests as we got older. “But I don’t WANT to go!!! There’snothing to DO! And I don’t KNOW them.” I hope that wasn’t just the conversationin our house. Pretty sure it wasn’t because we began taking games to pass the afternoon while the senior generations –thesiblings (our grandparents) and first cousins – visited, drank endless cups ofcoffee and noshed on Cousin Hazel’s goodies. Oh yes, I remember those. One timethe Colwell’s (God, I hope I got that right; I have a memory of Wilda beinginvolved) brought a projector and we watched slides and home movies of familypast. I’m sure now it was Colwells because Murray always had a camera in hishand.

The meal was potluckalthough I vaguely remember there was some organization involved at the Cousin’sMeeting. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to call it a communal meal. MargaretStewart always brought tomato aspic no matter what the schedule said – you know,at the time I found aspic to be quite revolting but long after her demise, I foundmyself wishing for a taste of it!

We always sang grace, thesame one the siblings had grown up singing. Most of my generation didn’t knowit – in desperation small papers with the words printed were furtivelydistributed for emergency use. Again, interestingly, when I was asked to saygrace at a large formal dinner some 30 years after my last McKinnon Clan meal,I found myself singing that exact grace.

Some waters run very deepindeed.

The picnics were much morerelaxed. Sometimes members of the family camped out the night before.

Elaine, do you rememberthe time we made a rough tarp ‘tent’ to sleep in and woke up with the entireinside walls covered in grass slugs?!

There were games.Sometimes the ‘cool’ older cousins brought guitars – yes, Stuart, you werecool.

We learned life lessons,like checking through the gooseberries thoroughly before eating them. Who wassick besides you, Lorne?

Mostly we learned theimportance of family, of connection and roots.

Isn’t it funny how manywonderful memories I have of occasions I had to be dragged to against my will?

I’ll tell you aninteresting addendum to this.

The Clan gatheringseventually died out as the sibling generation all passed and the familiesbecame more dispersed through marriage. Every so often, though, my dad’sgeneration – the first cousins – plan a get-together. The last I attended wasat our family farm and was the first (only) my children attended. I enjoyed it.My children tolerated it. Cousin Lachie was heard to comment, “I figured if Iwas dragged to these things against my will for all those years, it was onlyfair my kids suffered the same.” (See, I wasn’t the only one.)

We grew up in thatenvironment, though, and our children did not. A few days later, my daughtersaid, “That was so weird. Seeing all those strangers who look just like you andGrandpa and Uncle Todd, Uncle Scott. Weird.”

No. Wonderful.

Hearing God Laugh

2011-12-22T10:53:00.000-08:00

There's a saying: If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans.

The week beginning Dec 11 had an agenda that I was apparently unaware off. My plans including hanging out with Bryan and our friends Brian and Cheryl, two curling games, the Holiday Train and perhaps some baking.

The evening of Dec 10 threw those plans right out the window with a hearty HA! At a company Christmas party bowling event - during which there was not nearly as much drinking as circumstances might indicate - I mis-stepped whilst delivering a ball, fell awkwardly and severely strained my right knee. At the time it seemed a minor incident. At around 2 am I knew I was in trouble and the next morning (the Goldsmiths will vouch for me) the left knee was approximately twice the size as the right one. Pain? Oh yeah. Nimble dexterity? Zip. Nada. Zero.

Didn't curl Tuesday night. Did on Thursday, but delivering rocks with a 'stick' (if you don't know curling, I'll forgo the explanation other than to say one doesn't knee down into the hack to throw the rock). We lost, but it wasn't all my fault!

I haven't had a serious injury like this for a long time - I'm thinking when the cow beat me up during calving season about 13 years ago. The one that first came to mind, though, was a year or so before that.

I had been doing chores, heading back to the house from the chicken coop with a bucket filled with eggs. It was late spring; the yard was rutted from driving the tractor through soft spring mud and not yet disced level. I mis-stepped and tried to correct the fall, and in doing so wrenched my left foot either side of the instep, then fell heavily. The bucket was tossed up as I went down, and as I lay stunned on the ground, eggs rained down all around me but none hit me.

I knew I was in trouble, but also knew I had a few minutes to get to the house (or try to) before the pain really kicked in. Made it, grabbed the phone and called Bryan (he wasn't worried, said what could he do? and I'd be fine), hobbled to the couch and passed out.

When I regained consciousness (in the immortal words of Sgt. Renfrew, CBC fans) the left foot was quite ugly. It was a few weeks before I was walking properly, and to this day if I do a lot of walking, the foot is achy on both sides.

Wednesday we did go to Salmon Arm to watch the CP Holiday Train roll into town. Not as long a train as last year but fun nonetheless. A bit cold, and so with Bryan's arthritic back and my damaged knee, we were quite the gimpy couple heading back to the truck.

http://holidaytrain.typepad.com

Upon our arrival home that night, what did appear? No, not Santa, but there was a delivery. Socket had four brand new little puppies in the kennel with her!

She was a bit nervous about allowing us near her little treasures, but we scooped them and her out of there to quickly switch out the soiled bedding and put in clean. Three girls and one boy (Bryan's initial assessment was all girls but a few days later Becca finally was allowed to check them out more thoroughly). They've already doubled in size but their eyes won't be open for another few days.

Saturday was Bear Day at the office. The paper has a seasonal promotional that involves people buying $300+ from participating retailers, qualifying them for one of 50 limited edition Gund bears. I don't know how many years the promo has been going on but there are diehards out there - they start lining up at the door around midnight to get Bear #1 or whatever. There is also a draw from the 50 qualifiers for $500 cash.

As the rest of the community is getting totally wound-up for the Big Day, the office is winding down, our work for the seasonal madness now mostly done. Even the Boxing Day promos are already out.

I have no baking done. I have gifts purchased, even wrapped. Cards got mailed last week - something good came out of being laid up with a bum leg! And I'm totally fine with the state of things.

Merry Christmas to everyone.

A Celestial Treat and Quick Review

2011-12-10T07:07:00.001-08:00

Good morning, good morning!

You'd think after the rousing grand time we had last night with Brian and Cheryl that I'd be bleary-eyed and a bit crabby, but no. I managed to moderate myself very well (I think Cheryl might be hurting, though) and was up at 5:30 (did you know if you type that with the 'caps' key locked, it looks like swear words?) as usual.

The extra treat was a perfect, absolutely perfect, view of an absolutely perfect total lunar eclipse. I don't have photos because I was driving to work, watching the eclipse in my rear view mirrors for the first 30 kms; wasn't until I turned north at O'Keefe Ranch that I got a good view of the event. When I pulled up to Tim Horton's for my morning coffee (Starbucks isn't open at 6:15 - go figure) the eclipse was complete. Clear sky, still above the horizon (and above the land line which can be tricky, living in the mountains) and just so ..... well, perfect.

I have a quiet morning at the moment. Got the first section of the paper (which is actually B section, but the first to the plate room and hence to the press) to Travis by 7 am, and it will be awhile before Graeme is in to finish the sports pages. All this is leading up to the fact that I have some 'down' time to finally get some writing done!

Recap of Recent Projects:

Baby Quilt

Check.

Mom Sarah is delighted with it. Young Declan, born Oct 29, has yet to render his opinion.

Watercolour Class

Check.

Last class was Nov 22 and much as I was exhausted come Tuesday morning with the late hour of said class, I truly enjoyed it and learned so much. And I miss my classmates!

This was a still life arrangement for my watercolour classs. I was excited about capturing the oyster shell in paint but it turned out to be a real bitch-kitty. I think it will be an on-going challenge.

LSAT

Check.

Preparing for the exam took up an extraordinary amount of my life, and yet I hardly looked at books the last few days - busy with work, curling, work, laundry and work. Was at TRU bright and early, felt a little foolish sitting amongst a group of undergrads most of whom are younger than at least one if not both of my children. However, when the exam administrator stood up to get things started, we were all equals in the face of the challenge.

Four and a half hours later, I felt good. That's no guarantee that I did good but the deed was done and all I can do is wait patiently (!!!) until January when our marks are announced. And meanwhile get my admission application papers in order and pray for some benevolent funding to descend.

Curling

Big check.

We're 7-1 for the season to date, with two games this coming week (lots of double-game weeks in our schedule this year). Our volunteer icemakers are doing a fabulous job this year and playing conditions are great. We commented on Thursday night that it's so much more fun playing smart instead of playing lucky (on iffy ice, even the best player is the fool of fate).

On Deck:

The CP Christmas Train

The most beautiful train in the world will be pulling into Salmon Arm on Dec. 14 (between curling games, thank goodness!) and so we are going with bells on. Meeting PK and Gary, taking in the event that signals the beginning of the Christmas season for me.

Puppies

Maybe it's hard to tell from this photo but that is one very pregnant little Jack Russell curled up in Becca's lap.

Socket had an illicit rendezvous with a studly Maltese while up north with Bryan. Ergo, puppies are expected on or about Dec. 23.

Hannah Banana has a new home in Vernon with a family consisting of another Jack, a large dog of undeterminate breed and two young boys who absolutely adore her and mutually wear each other out. All in all, a good move. Socket has quieted down as an Only Dog (the heavy baby belly may also be a contributing factor) and is totally into being a Good Dog. We like it.

Val's Last Book Project

Publishing partner Val delivered her last manuscript to me a few weeks ago. I'm ashamed to say it's been languishing on the back burner (so to speak - it's actually been in my face on the kitchen side counter, glaring at me every time I glance that direction) while I cleared the deck of other projects (can you spell LSAT? of course you can). I've now created a home for it on my laptop and got the layout set up. Monday I'll sort through the photos, move the text onto the layout and begin work on the design. Piece o' cake ...... stay tuned for future temper outbursts..... Seriously, I want this off for proofing before the end of the month.

Quilts and other things Fabric

Yes, Juliette, your quilt is still on the list. I also have two large quilts to finish for a co-worker, tops inherited from her grandmother (yes, tugging the heartstrings with this one). One only needs to be bound around the outside (some church ladies quilted it already); the second is a remarkably complex pattern of Texas stars and tumbling blocks. But it will have to wait until Juliette's rebuild is done.

I have a backlog of other sewing projects I've been aching to get at: a Burda dress pattern that both excites me and intimidates me all to hell. I think I may consult with a sewing diva in Vernon before getting too far into it. Also have some shirts for Bryan and a wool-&-brocade top for me in the lineup.

Christmas Baking

I'm not ready for Christmas. I'm never ready for Christmas and yet it still arrives just fine. I am booking next weekend for baking, to at least get some gift boxes done.

So now, do you forgive me for being delinquent in posting? I've been thinking of you. Really!

Christmas Lights

2011-11-13T11:42:00.001-08:00

We're putting up the outside Christmas lights.

One of the advantages of getting older is that sometimes, just sometimes, you do get a little smarter.

Like putting up the lights when there isn't any snow on the ground yet, it's daylight and not freakin' -30C.

I 'rescued' a whole big banana box of old-school outdoor lights from the transfer station last year (it's not called a 'dump' anymore because one's garbage is hauled to some other place). And there was also another banana box filled with fresh new replacement bulbs.

Score.

Anyway, I had visions of summertime parties with lights strung overhead like you see in pictures of places like Italy or when you go to East Side Mario's for supper.

Turns out they're darned good Christmas lights, too. Once the places where the mice ate through the plastic sheathing are fixed.

They came that way. We do not have mice. We have moles destroying the northeast corner of the yard but no mice.

The lights look just like this one:

but in an assortment of colours. The violet ones are my favs.

Bryan and I strung then through the fir trees on the fire department's lot right beside ours, best viewed through the large window beside our dining table. We'll do a 'test view' tonight but have resolved that they will not be regularly lit up until December.

And now, I sit here writing while the man fixes the small LED trees we've had for years which were mauled by the at-the-time very small Jack Russell puppies. Once the repairs have been done, installation of Christmas Lights - Part 2 will commence.

Wow. This is something like when I accidently got a college term paper done way before deadline. It felt so good I wondered why I'd never done it before. Of course, I didn't let it become a habit.

Trying to Fit Everything In

2011-11-12T08:35:00.001-08:00

I seem to have overbooked my off time this month. A fall watercolour class I started in September has overlapped a busy curling season that kicked off last week. A wee quilt is taking longer than it should because it keeps getting preempted by studying for an exam I'm writing in early December.

Forget housework - I'm lucky to get my laundry caught up! And thankfully my husband arrived home from the north country, down (he says) for the winter, because otherwise I don't think I'd be eating proper suppers (nor have nice lunches of leftovers).

There is just so much I want to do in my life, it sometimes just all jumbles up on top of each other. Eventually things settle out, as will happen the first week of December.

Learning to paint watercolours has been on my 'life list' for a long, long time. I have just two more classes this month and then the fall session is finished.

I'm finding it works well with other activities, in fact benefits from other activities. When I'm studying or quilting, there is a saturation point when I have to set aside pencil or needle and do something else. Painting has become that something else.

And when I've got to a point in the painting where I need to step away before I do something I'll regret, I go back to reading or quilting. That goes fine and then I find my mind wandering back to the painting, either having thought of a solution to the problem or confident that the underwash is dry enough to proceed with the next piece.

All in all, a perfect scenerio for a multi-tasker.

Curling is finally underway and we're 3-0 so far. Going to be a busy season because our small league is short one team. Lots of weeks in our schedule when we play both Tuesday and Thursday.

Not complaining, just noting that it's a good thing I've been going to the gym in the mornings. Otherwise I'd be hurting too much to move just now!

All I have left on Declan's quilt (yes, he arrived 2 weeks ago today) are two sides of the inside border. Then a quick trip through the washing machine to remove the marking chalk and bloodstains. (I'm sorry. I tend to leave little blood spots on the back of the quilt where my guide finger is perpetually poked.)

I'll finish the quilt today, get it washed with some other compatible items, and get back to studying while they swoosh in the water.

The studying? I'm writing a university entrance exam on Dec. 3. Yes, I know, and at my age, too.

December 4 will be a quiet little meltdown day.

Maybe I'll do some painting.

Airport Role Call

2011-10-22T07:59:00.000-07:00

As I was sitting in Tegel's departure lounge on a Monday two weeks ago, upon learning of the flight delay I began fretting about connecting flights.

I don't mind flying. If I could afford the cushy seats up front instead of the cozy conditions of economy, I'd mind it even less.

What does cause me moments of high anxiety is making the connecting flight with a very small piece of time in which to navigate an unfamiliar airport and more than likely another security scan (I just came off a flight for which I was security scanned, traversed a sterile concourse with no contact with the real world ... am I really a security risk? I mean, other than a towering rage should I miss my next flight) when that flight is the middle in a series of connecting flights.

My heart plummets to my shoes when I enter a concourse, look at the flight board to find my next gate and read the word: GATE CLOSED.

My Sudoku puzzles weren't easing my anxiety at that moment so I started thinking about Frankfurt International and wondering if I'd have to sprint through unfamiliar territory, and it got me to thinking about other airports I've sprinted through. Although not a globe-trotter by any stretch of the imagination, I was surprised at the tally.

Calgary

Edmonton, Internation and Municipal (where the north fence running parallel to Kingsway is bent from the tails of the planes pushing against it trying to get enough runway for take-off ... or so the story goes)

Grande Prairie

Peace River

Fort St. John

Winnipeg

Toronto: pre- & post-Pearson

Montreal: pre-P.E. Trudeau

Vancouver

San Francisco - and if I never go there again it will be too soon

San Diego

Los Angeles : Terminal 2 & Tom Bradley Int'l

Houston: Geo. Bush Intercontinental, just two months after 9-11 & full of military type guys bristling with automatic weaponry, very unsettling

Chicago O'Hare - at that time the busiest airport in the world

Hawai'i

Sydney

Heathrow

Munich

- grouped together because although I passed through these ports not once did my feet touch the soil of those countries (or city in the case of Munich). Kind of bizarre when you think of being to a country without actually being to the country, if you know what I mean.

Palmerston North
New Plymouth
Berlin - Tegel, which will cease to exist very soon after which travel will be via Schoenefeld
Frankfurt

Glancing at today's blog roll to the right, I see the Yarn Harlot is in (or just travelled through) Chicago.

May the Force be with you.

PS My brother pointed out I missed Kelowna and Kamloops. The two closest airports and most current 'home bases.' Figures.

Holiday Recap

2011-10-15T08:33:00.000-07:00

I'm home. It was a wonderful week in Germany with Claudia & Chris, Valentin & Leopold. It's good to be home, too, although I haven't seen much of it yet.

Arrived home 8pm Tuesday night, called Bryan to say I was back on land at home, then crawled into bed. Up at 5:30am and on the way to work by 6 to tackle the snowdrift of work at my desk.

Basically I've been at work or asleep at home for the last three days.

The Flight of Discontent notwithstanding, this is why I went and it was well worth it:

Got to see the new house, which is delightful so long as you don't mind living very close to your neighbours:

About the only photos I got of Chris were during a family soccer match in the back yard one day.

We did some of the 'tourist' things that warm the cockles of my heart. On route to the Museum of Natural History (the boys love that place, full of enormous dinosaur skeletons) Chris took a little detour to show me this interesting spot:

This is one of the last remaining guard towers in Berlin, where the GDR soldiers kept watch over the Berlin Wall for anyone trying to cross it - in or out. It's in a tucked-away spot, not hidden but not on the beaten track most tourists would see. There are many spots like this that usually only the locals know about.

I wanted to get to an art gallery or two, but it didn't work out that way. There is a Rennaisance Masters exhibit at the Bode Museum - only to be shown in Berlin and New York. Claudi and I went down to Museum Island early in the morning - at 9am the line-up for tickets (not into the museum but just to buy the tickets to get into the museum!!!) was over 1 km long.

So while Claudi went for coffee with a girlfriend, I tackled the Berlin Cathedral.

Like so many of its sisters, the interior is almost overwhelming. The organist was working his magic on this instrument when I entered:

I'd love to get some time on the keyboard.

And the altar is stunning:

as is the sanctuary ceiling:

It takes a good two hours to tour the Dom if you're so inclined. There is a museum on the mezzanine and catacombs below (both fascinating and creepy with it's 98 coffins & sarcophagae). My goal was to climb the 270 or so steps up to the walkway. If you look at the first picture of the church (or go online) you'll see a railing just around the bottom of the copper cupola. That's the walkway.

Keeping watch over the city all around the dome are angels and cherubs with a variety of musical instruments and song sheets:

I love this juxaposition of very old and futuristic - the TV Tower in the background.

The angels and cherubs have lots of patches on them. Bomb damage from WWII. It's a miracle the church is even there. Truth be told, the ol' girl's had many face lifts over the years.

Looking over Museum Island. The Bode is the black domed roof in the middle back. The River Spree can be seen on the right - it splits and rejoins, creating the island.

Berlin - northern Germany - is flat, flat, flat all the way up to Denmark and over to the Netherlands. The view is filled with church spires and red roofs.

A taste of the steps up to the walkway, or a set of them. And these are generous in size and depth compared to some tower steps I've climbed, including the next day in Erfurt.

Yes, I have more photos but I also need to do some laundry (heck, unpack my bag!), take a walk to get re-aquainted with my garden, and just get caught up at home.

Theres's a good panoramic photo of the sanctuary and more information about the church at this site:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Cathedral

And this one for the Bode:
www.berlin.de/orte/museum/bode-museum/index.en.php

And the show I missed:
english.ntdtv.com/ntdtv_en/news_europe/2011-08-25/renaissance-art-exhibit-kicks-off-in-berlin-germany-.html

Stuck in Frankfurt

2011-10-10T08:36:00.000-07:00

I will not be home on Thanksgiving Day. I am still in Germany. Frankfurt to be precise.

Me and a few thousand other flyers. So much for getting home in one day.

Errrggg.

Apparently the ground crews - baggage handlers - whoever gets the planes moving through the airports have gone on strike, or are about to go on strike and are on slow-down, throughout Germany.

Whatever. Standing in line with a few hundred other tired, frustrated travelers for two hours trying to get another flight home was not my idea of a good time. The Lufthansa ladies did their very best under extremely trying circumstances and I have an early flight out tomorrow morning.

It was kind of interesting being in the midst of Italians: one from Italy, one a landed American and the third from Brazil but raised in Switzerland and traveling to a new job in Mexico. Gotta love it.

The bus from the airport to the hotel we're staying at was full of Norwegians, Canadians and the crazy Italian lady who lives in San Francisco. There's a lady from Ottawa on the other computer here in the business room writing to her family explaining what's up, on her way home from a holiday in Milan, Venice, Florence, Rome and places in between.

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-10-09T08:20:00.000-07:00

It´s a beautiful autumn day, a perfect Thanksgiving Day. And I´m in a country that doesn´t even celebrate the occasion!

Happy Thanksgiving Day to everyone in Canada from Germany. Tomorrow while you are enjoying turkey and pumpkin pie, I will be winging my way across the Atlantic back to BC and believe it or not, directly back to work Tuesday morning.

At least I´ll be back working with a familiar kezb0ard! Have I told zou about how frustrating it is to have a kezbboard in a different languarge# Half the kezs arenät where thez should be ... especiallz the letter Y. YYYYYYYY and the apostrophe kez #######

At least one can be consoled by the absolutely perfect chocolate and kuchen. (I think I´ve gained 20 lbs -sshhhhhh!)

Clippings in Envelopes

2011-09-28T12:03:00.000-07:00

A newspaper clipping landed on my desk this morning. One of our clients annotated it with changes he wants made to it for the next issue.

I had a flashback moment. My paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother were both great ones for tucking newspaper clippings into their letters. Grandma especially would sometimes have the envelop bulging with all sorts of interesting or informative excerpts. A few were mystery clippings - not quite sure why they were there, what the intended message was.

My favorite - and I have no idea if it still lurks in my boxes of Stuff To Be Dealt With Someday - was included in a letter from her shortly after our son was born.

The title of the article was "Father looks for second job" and was about a young couple down in the Smoky Mountains or Appalachian country of the US, both 18 or 19 years old. She had given birth to twins, and 11 months later delivered of triplets. I found it quite amusing although I'm still not sure why she sent it. Perhaps just for the amusement. Maybe to discourage me from complaint about the soreness following a difficult delivery of my first-born. Who knows.

I sometimes get newspaper clippings from friends when I get snail mail. Not much of either lately, though, so much of my correspondence taking place on-line.

An attachment isn't quite the same.

I miss newspaper clippings stuffed into letters.

When Dairy Farmers Retire

2011-09-22T10:30:00.000-07:00

I attended Olds College. From the first day of classes to this very moment in time, my life has been a strange mix of Mennonites and dairy farmers. An unholy mix if you consider I was raised on a cattle ranch and bore a Scottish surname. Time has blurred those battle lines!

Last weekend one of those elements came full circle when a Mennonite dairy farmer friend and former OC classmate from Chilliwack sold the last of his cows and the family pulled off a surprise retirement party.

Cultus Lake

We were, in fact, the decoys getting Allen out of the yard Sunday morning so the family and friends could do their magic getting the party tents and such set up. After a lovely breakfast at Cookies Grill, we took the looooooong way to Cultus Lake for a look-around. Truth be told, we hadn't ever been there. Barbie was driving so Allen and Bryan visited in the back of the Denali while we sauntered around the countryside.

Allen in the Captain's hat, honoree of the afternoon, with his uncle and aunt.

We arrived back at the farm before most of the guests because there just wasn't any more excuse to loiter around the valley. The band was warming up, the caterers had commandeered the kitchen and the kids were still tweaking the decorations. Still, Allen was surprised (or did a good job of appearing so).

The ultimate dairy farmer retirement cake!

One of the highlights was the appearance of two former OC classmates - Rei and Sally. I hadn't seen them since we graduated in ... well, a few years and a grandchild or two ago.

The Three Piece Combo (name unknown- sorry!) provided a wonderful atmosphere to the afternoon gala.

Excellent spread (still in progress here) by Cookies Grill.

Note the Hawai'ian theme.

Allen's parents were there with many friends and family.

Barbie (red hair, green lei)

Kids always add a fun element to an essentially-adult event.

You can put the farm girl in Sunday School clothes but you can't keep her off the tractor.

There are no photos from that portion of the event - wine, cameraitis and brisk conversation took over.

Allen, his oldest grandson and the grandson's other grandmother.

The local vet stopped by, drawn by the sight of all the vehicles in the yard, sat down with the OC reunion contingent and we learned his sister had also been in our class! Sally and Bryan became instant best friends over a bottle of wine (not everyone there was Mennonite!) and we exchanged contact information. And if you're reading this ladies, it was a hoot and we'll keep in touch!

It was a quick trip there and back but well worth it. Well Done! Barbie, Cathy-Ann, Dan & Jennifer, Eric and Felice.

Aloha!

Forest Fires, Bears and Biking

2011-09-03T09:34:00.000-07:00

So, I get a phone call from my husband at 3pm or so on Thursday afternoon while I'm at work.

"I think we might get burned out."

Pardon me?

"There's smoke so thick here in town, I can't see any other houses around us. Went to go look and everything around Falkland Ranch is on fire."

Oh.

Choppers shuttling from the Salmon River to dump water on the fire.

Are you grabbing a get-away kit?

"I have the dogs. What else would I need?"

Hmm. That about sums it up. Maybe my laptop. And my passport - fire or no fire, I'm still going to visit Claudia in October!

Turns out a major windstorm blowing from the west through the valley dropped a tree on a transmission line, triggering a fire in optimum conditions: tinder and overgrown undercover, +30C temperatures for two weeks with no precip, high winds & steep terrain.

The fire west of town, around 7 pm.

The fire was immediately west of Falkland. Once the water bombers and Initial Attack crews were on the scene, the town wasn't in serious danger.

Bomber dumping fire retardant onto the fire - Daniel Hayduk photo

I used to drive wildfire fighters out to fire lines in northern Alberta. I lived in an area prone to forest fires for 25 years. We had careless neighbours who scared us with their land-clearing burning practices, and came close to disaster when a spring burn we and neighbours conducted led to a ground fire that travelled into an overgrown road allowance, burst into fire two weeks after the initial burn and moved rapidly towards our homestead.

I have never truly overcome my primordial fear of fire.

Falkland Fire Department worked on the fire - Daniel Hayduk photo

There are still hot spots smoldering away. Crews will be there for several days yet I imagine, digging them out.

Daniel Hayduk photo

In other news:

Last weekend Bryan and I went to Nakusp to visit friend David, who was attending an event involving adventure touring motorcyclists. It turned into our own little adventure tour.

As usual, Bryan had the Girls in their kennel on the back of the Triumph (I'll have to get a photo of that some day). It was early afternoon before we left home, so around 4 pm or so when we stopped at Gold Panner Campground east of Cherryville for an iced tea.

Further on down the highway, about 15 km or so east of the Monashee summit, Bryan discovered his back tire was going flat! Something in the gravelled parking area must have punctured the tire.

It was getting late, we were a long way from anything. After a discussion, he took my bike and headed to Nakusp, intending to get help from David.

Socket, Hannah and I waited at the pull-out area alongside the highway.

It was warm but we were in the shade ... along with a healthy population of mosquitoes, black flies and no-see-ums. We walked, we talked, they snoozed in the kennel and I worked puzzles in the little sudoku book I take on road trips.

Twilight moved in. The cows grazing along the transmission line cutline called to their calves.

I tried to expunge the brain cootie that had been haunting me all day - Dean Martin singing "That's Amore." It was playing on the radio when I drove into work early that morning and stuck in firmly for a long visit.

I used to like watching ol' Deano on his television show but can't say I was all that happy about him settling down with his martini and cigarette in my brain. And of course the more you try to not think about something, the more you do.

And then the neighbourhood black bear made his/her presence known, crashing around in the bush down the embankment. Seeing as I was already a bit grouchy what with Dean Martin haunting me and various voracious insects eating me, this was the last straw.

I cussed out that bear. Everyone knows black bears have a low tolerance for profanity. The noise paused; I could hear ursine mental gears shifting. The noise resumed and I swore again, louder and cruder. The noise stopped. I can only assume the bear was shocked and dismayed at my behaviour, because shortly thereafter my knight in a black pick-up arrived.

It was well and truly dark when we got to the Needles ferry, past hope of a meal at the hotel when we arrived in Nakusp at 10 pm.

Bryan had acquired a room in the attic of the Leland Hotel. Now there's an experience. I'd been in rooms on every floor of that venerable old structure except the attic. Thank goodness for mornings at the gym because that third and last flight of stairs is STEEP. Still, the old hotel is 114 years old so quirks should be expected.

Breakfast with David and friends was a nice leisurely affair. Wish we could have had more time but they were off for Calgary as soon as they were satisfied we'd be OK.

Bryan found a rescue wagon through AMA and once again in just over a year, I found myself riding my motorcycle behind a minivan rescuing my husband from a road incident - different bike, different country, but still .......

We got back to the abandoned motorcycle. Bryan repaired the tire and filled it from the compressed air tank the road assistant guy brought along. He went back to Nakusp, we returned to Falkland.

You'll notice there are no photos of the Nakusp ride.

Lessons learned:

1. Always carry the tire plug kit on the bike. It doesn't do much good in the garage 200 km away.

2. Jack Russells have the potential to choke a bear, discouraging further attack, but only to be used in extreme emergency. Growling Jack Russells are less useful.

Apparently there is nothing else to be learned from this experience.

A Splash of Red

2011-08-27T08:05:00.000-07:00

Nothing says 'summer' like an alfresco supper on a warm night, especially a supper featuring Italian food, endless wine, music, fabulous art and over 100 convivial diners.

Bryan and I attended the Caetani Cultural Centre fund raiser A Splash of Red. Yes, the old biker got his culture on! It was a semi-formal event with attendees strongly suggested to wear the colours red, white and black.

Tables were set out on the Caetani House grounds. Little bit of a slope which tired one's back and buttocks as the evening progressed, but that made for an excuse to get up and mingle.

There was a live auction of several donated pieces of art. I had my eye on a fabulous painting of irises, but the auction itself was somewhat slow, the time late and I had to be at work the following day. Perhaps another day, another painting....

We sat with Christine and Keith Kashuba. Christine is one of the artists who donated a piece to the sale, a lovely photo of the mosaic tile floor in the Vatican, shown below (although not a lovely as in real life - the colours are much more vivid):

Co-worker Katherine Mortimer (aka Lifestyles editor) was also in attendance. (She's in the middle of the photo, both across and by depth, with sunglasses atop her head.) We agreed next morning that it was a wonderful event, that we hope (with a few improvements) that they hold the event again next year.

And now Bryan and I are inspired to try our own alfresco supper - something a little classier than bratwurst cooked over the firepit!

PS Christine has other shows and works available. See some of her works at www.okanaganartistsofcanada.ca/kashuba.html

The Wedding, Gonzo Garden and The Girls

2011-08-22T19:01:00.000-07:00

This is long one, so fill your coffee cup and settle down for a read.

Well, it's been a full weekend. One in a series of full weekends. August is flying by, so fast I've not even told you about July.... or have I?

Super friends Karen and Randy were down from the North Country in late July.

Karen and Randy under a fair sized weeping willow at Gort's Gouda Farm west of Salmon Arm, part of the never-ending food roadshow. This is the only time you'll see Randy masquerading as a tree hugger.

We had a wonderful, all too quick weekend with them. Showed them our playground, ate ourselves silly and even shipped a motorcycle back home with them. Yes, the trusty little Suzuki is now taking its second lady owner along the highways and byways of northern Alberta. Have fun, Alyssa!

Bryan and I spent part of the August long weekend on a motorcycle jaunt to Osoyoos with the girls. Socket and Hannah love riding on Bryan's bike in their little kennel. Stopped at Summerland and Peachland for lakeside breaks; let them run in the desert at Oliver; breakfast in Osoyoos, scoot up onto the plateau to Rock Creek and back north on Hwy 33. Nice little overnighter.

Then he headed east to Manitoba, to partner up with buddy Marc and a ride down to Wisconsin, then back west through the northern States. All reports are they had a good 2+ weeks.

So, this weekend was THE WEDDING. Niece Jolene married Russ and it was a grand event. The ceremony and festivities were up at Russ's parent's home in Rose Valley, northwest part of West Kelowna. The weather was perfect, we were fashionably almost-late and Bryan's going-to-a-wedding suit stole the show... again.

Bryan, brother Walter and sister-in-law Susan.

Try if you can to imagine the reactions of people in cars and trucks on the highway whenever we stopped for a red light seeing Bryan on his motorcycle with this suit, sunglasses and his not-quite-legal beanie helmet. What would have made it perfect is if I could have managed my long blue dress as well, but I was nervous of the chain. A quick change from jeans was required. Oh, and out of my boots to slip on flip-flops.

It was a nice group gathered atop the mountain:

Uncle Stan and Auntie Doris, all the way from Australia. I love her hat!

Gary, Terry and Mom ignoring the camera.

Brothers Bryan, James and Walter, with Susan.

The wedding was lovely as most weddings are. The maids of honor and flower girl Katy-Bug were beautiful despite squinting into the setting sun:

What a backdrop! The new Mr. & Mrs. Senyk signing their official documents with the valley and Okanagan Lake (just out of this shot, to the right) as their stage:

We had a lovely visit with friends and family. The getting lost and asking for directions three times between the hotel and house became no more than a laugh and distant memory.

More visiting during breakfast at the hotel. Not nearly enough, of course, but weddings generally aren't the best visiting occasions, are they? Too much going on.

Bryan and I rode home on Westside Road, the scenic back road from Kelowna to Vernon along the west side of Okanagan Lake.

The south half of the road is very narrow in many places, in poor condition in most places, and a sheer drop off down to the lake anywhere from 50 to 150 metres in FAR TOO MANY PLACES with no guard rails or concrete berms of any kind.

I'm not a great fan of the road going south, but I'm officially labeling it The Road That Intimidates Me The Most when traveling it north.

Once we were north of Fintry, I was fine. I really like that half. It's going to be a long time before I do that route again, though. Bryan says if he tweaks the bike's suspension, I'll feel better. I'll feel better when they widen the road by 2 m and protect some of the vertigo-inducing drop-offs.

Becca and the girls had a nice time at home. She took them up to Pillar Lake to have a free run-about. Becca asked me how, exactly, did one get to the pillar that Pillar Lake is named for.

We hopped in the car with the dogs and headed up towards the lake.

The trail is a meandering goat track up a very steep mountainside. Very steep. I had little trouble going up, but half way there I realized I was going to have a bitch of a time getting back down. I didn't bring a walking stick and I have hyper-extended knees, which makes any downhill motion difficult (some times even stairs). I didn't realize the trail was that steep, so caution overcame valour and I headed back to the car while Becca and the dogs carried on.

(Pillar Provincial Park photo)

The pillar is a basalm column about 30 metres high and 3 metres in diameter at the base, made of glacial drift cemented into hardpan with a rock cap.

Becca was tres impressed - these are her photos:

So today was Gonzo Gardening Day. It was overcast and moderate in temperature, perfect conditions for stump removal.

The fir tree that once stood here was very unstable during a violent windstorm two years ago, so Bryan felled it. The stump has been a nuisance ever since, primarily due to the roots that came just far enough out of the ground to trip people and catch the lawn mower blades. Last weekend, while Bryan was still away, Becca and I began working away at it, thinking it wouldn't be too difficult a job - fir and spruce trees generally have shallow, broad-spreading roots.

Yah, well, this one had a serious tap root. Bryan worked away at it Saturday morning while I was at work. Today was the Serious Tools part of the program, involving a come-along, chains, chainsaw and axe.

This was about the time in the program when the tap root was discovered. Most of the other root had been severed.

The mighty Poulan goes to work, waking up Becca whose bedroom window is right beside the project.

She came out to investigate and set to work on the come-along still in her 'jammies. That's my girl.

What you can't see in the next photo - I wish every so often for a video camera - is Becca bouncing on the chain, laughing at her dad as he works the saw.

There, that should do it.

And yes, we have lift off.... or lift out in this case.

Surveying the hole, the quite deep hole and discussing the project.

After this job was done and the tools put way, again with Becca's assistance, I finished the top two steps and top landing of the garden steps, cementing in the flat stones, mortaring in the sides as well. Just the bottom landing to do, but that's quite enough for one day. Mixing concrete in a large rubber bin with a shovel, then laying big rocks is all very tiring work.

The yard is moving into its late summer stage. Many of the mid-summer giants like delphiniums are looking like blowsy party girls who've been up too late and smudged their makeup. A good pruning is in order. The late flowers are showing off now.

Salpiglossis is one of my very favorite annuals. I had trouble finding it when I first moved here my now know which nursery to go to.

Salpiglossis with lavender and a volunteer snapdragon.

One of the lovely double daylilies that came from Mom Giesbrecht's garden.

A rather washed-out photo of some actually stunning rudbeckia.

The newly finished stairs lined with lavender, dragons-blood sedum, strawberries, pinks and a variety of rudbeckia, a white rose off in the distance.

Last lily of the year. The lilies have been spectacular but these are the gems and the most aromatic of them all.

And because you haven't seen pictures of them lately, the girls out on their running line.

Hannah:

Socket:

Bryan's out for a ride with the cop next door. The girls are snoozing, and I hear a dish of hot-from-the-oven blueberry batter cake calling to me.

Mom's Cream Addiction

2011-08-13T10:10:00.000-07:00

I was at Starbucks early this morning, as is usual on the mornings I don't go to the gym before work.

Why didn't I go to the gym? Socket and Hannah are with me this morning ... their Dad's in Fargo, Becca's in Revelstuck and our emergency backup dog sitters are on Shuswap Lake. Ergo, they get to come to work with me today.

ANYWAY, there was a couple in line before me. He picked up his drink, much like mine: straight, black and strong. Hers was piled high with whipped cream and he uttered an 'Eeeww' comment on the calorie-laden frou-frou beverage.

I started to laugh, which made them and the two baristas look at me.

"I just had a flashback moment to my mom," was my explanation. And I told them about my mom's cream addiction.

My mom was a tiny little thing with an unquenchable hunger for cream. Thick, heavy, yellow, stand-a-spoon-up-in-it cream. I was raised on a ranch and everyone knows ranchers don't milk cows (or if they do, it's a deep dark secret .... wonder where they hide the cow .... but I digress .... again) so we didn't have a milk cow and no cream ready to hand.

Every so often, Mom would go visit Mrs. Frick down the road, owner of a set of Jersey cows. She'd come back with a quart sealer jar filled to the rim with fresh cream. Mom would get a cereal bowl out of the cupboard, toss a few Corn Flakes in the bottom for pretense and then fill the bowl with cream, then sit down and proceed to spoon it down.

We'd gag. I mean, we liked cream but this was just gross. Dad would laugh at her and ask who she thought she was fooling with the whole Corn Flakes things.

What a great memory to start my day with!

Still a Friend After All These Years

2011-08-12T14:54:00.000-07:00

Is a friend still a friend if you haven't seen her for 30 years? When news of her sudden death plucks a heartstring, I'd say the answer is 'yes'.

A college friend living in Manitoba died this morning. She'd been fighting cancer, something I didn't know. Sounds like she may have died from a heart attack, though, but details are still sketchy.

We were the kind of friends who hung out together at events of mutual interest, shared mutual friends but weren't close confidence-sharing bosom buddies. There was a day of drama while she dodged a wish-he-was-boyfriend who'd taken to stalking her. I'm sure Bryce and Blaine still have green memories of us bursting into their room in Residence with the 'stalker' in pursuit ... while their parents were also in the room on a visit to their sons. To this day I have no idea what those four people look like.

We exchanged Christmas cards for a few years and then somehow that too drifted away. Without more than just the casual chit-chat of "All's well here. Kids are growing like weeds. Best wishes for the coming year." it's hard to maintain any sort of meaningful correspondence.

Once in awhile I'd hear tidbits, as mutual friends travelled back and forth, carrying news. I imagine news from my life drifted back towards them in a similar fashion.

She and her husband are ever-young in my mind, students looking forward to their life together with hope and enthusiasm.

I remember the reaction from friends when he happily informed us of the wonderful Christmas gift he'd purchased for his wife-to-be .... an electric frying pan. The stunned silence might have been a clue that it perhaps wasn't the most romantic gift that a young lady looked forward to for a first Christmas gift from her beloved.

I remember curling with them during the winter, IVCF get-togethers, camping trips in the mountains at the Burnt Timber and Ya Ha Tinda ranges.

Good memories of friends, of laughter and of youth.

Bin Doin' Stuff

2011-07-16T08:01:00.000-07:00

Wow! What happened to the last four weeks?!

I bin gardenin': squishing aphids (lupins particularly hard hit this year),

murmuring encouraging words to the roses, (although the next photo is painted daisies, not roses - I do know the difference)

picking strawberries, weeding,

picking strawberries, mowing,

picking strawberries, pruning

and picking strawberries. These are not strawberries,

nor are these,

or these.

I'm quite done with strawberries, thank you. You can see, however, how nicely the garden is coming along.

Took a photo of one of the baby fir trees a week or so ago. Look at the new growth on that sucker! Fat and fluffy.

I bin motorcyclin': to work, to hither and yon with Bryan on the weekends, through torrential rain/wind/hail lightly seasoned with lightning, to the vintage bike show at O'Keefe Ranch.

I bin quiltin'.

I bin readin': too long a list to remember at the moment.

I bin cookin' rhubarb: or did, in simply everything it seemed while in season, but now it's time to let the plant rest.

I bin hostess with the mostest: NOT in a lounge! We've had company and enjoyed it. Company presently fills my house - biker boys arrived Tuesday, former Northern neighbours pulled their 5th wheel in yesterday, the yard is full of kids, bicycles and motorcyles. Some of the old New Fish Creek gang is expected to arrive tonight for a visit 'round the firepit.*More company is anticipated next weekend, and the one following. It is summer in the Okanagan after all.

I bin workin': summer skeleton crew makes for 'interesting' days but it's working just fine (fingers and toes crossed, which makes it difficult to type....).

• Saturday morning addendum: there were enough motorcycles in our yard last night to make the new neighbours watch with a wary eye. Yes that's us, the local hoodlums ... grey hair and all.

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

Thanks for the photo, Cory.

Promo Fun

2011-06-16T11:00:00.000-07:00

One of my on-going assignments is coming up with new promo ads for the newspaper. When I find a theme or an idea, I run with it. It's sometimes hard to dig a new idea out of an over-mined brain. But sometimes the idea is self-evident.

Whaddaya think?

PS, never mind the hoodlums in Vancouver. The Canucks did just fine winning the Campbell Cup.

Relay Recap

2011-06-11T08:31:00.000-07:00

I walked.

We walked.

It was a lovely evening. The day had been warm and the the weather held. A slight breeze kicked up in the middle of the night, and the sprinklers came on, cooling the air. But the sky was clear.

The entertainment was, well, entertaining. Especially the bar flies who stumbled into the event at around 3 am, crowded around the stage while a young, talented rock band pounded out their tunes. A few of them drunkenly made their way to the other side of the track and were heard to ask walkers in a vaguely panicked way, "Is there a way out of here?!"

At the start of the evening Polson Park had the feel of the ultimate tailgate party. The larger teams had barbeques set up, themed decorations and costumes. A game of pick-up football ranged around the infield, a volleyball net was set up beside the massage college tent, Team Silver Star hauled in a large flat screen TV and posted updated scores for the Canucks game.

At 9:30 pm or so, the luminaries set around the entire perimeter of the track were lit. The evening was imbued with quiet grace. People slowed their pace, lingering to read the messages inscribed on the glowing bags.

At 4 am the atmosphere was much more subdued as the party-hardy crowd snoozed in reclining lawn chairs huddled under comforters. The stalwarts kept walking and walking.

One fellow, pushing a 'running' stroller with one sleeping child inside, talked while we walked side by side. His wife and second small child, with him up to this point, were in their tent, trying to get small child back to sleep. He said he had a running injury (can't remember exactly what anymore) that was making the evening a bit achy by that point. They'd been on the track continuously since the children fell asleep at 7pm.

"But I can't complain too much," he said, "because my mother's been out here with us the whole time and she's only got one lung."

Ah.

Team Grandpa Wink, we were a small but steady group.

Grand Poobah Stacy broke her little toe at work Saturday morning - she's an RN and ironically was taking a patient to the casting room when she stubbed and broke the little digit. A compassionate co-worker splinted it; once in her running shoe and sustained with regular doses of Ibuprofen she was good for the duration.

A few of Stacy's friends started out the evening with us. Her parents were the set-up crew for our little tent headquarters on the infield. Her in-laws made laps for an hour or so. A best friend showed up after midnight until around 2 am.

She, husband Mike and I took turns making the laps in the wee small hours towards dawn - the only 'rule' of the relay is that one team member must be on the track at all times.

Alan (Grandpa Wink's son, Stacy's dad) showed up at 5 am with black Timmy's coffee and fresh encouragement.

A few remarkable people were on the track the ENTIRE time! Two stood out because their outfits were noticable: a cop wearing a red top, a young man in bright yellow running shoes. I was behind the yellow shoes kid when another walker asked how many laps he'd done. "Oh, I don't know. I quit counting after 150," he replied. Each lap is just under 400m (it's apparently not an 'official' length track, an issue for competitions). So let's say it's 350m - that's still 52 km!!!

I figure I walked around 14 or 15 km and felt OK, all things considered. No sore legs or stiff joints. Just slightly bruised front soles - as the dirt packed down, thousands of small rocks littered the surface. I was a little punch drunk on Sunday, trying to catch up on sleep and reset my body clock after being awake most of 26 hours (15 minute cat-naps don't count). Thank goodness I had Monday to get my weekend chores done!

Thank you to everyone who sponsored me in the Relay for Life. Thanks to your generosity I raised over $1,000. There are still funds coming through the mail (Canada Post, bless your little strike-ridden hearts) so the final tally isn't in yet. Stacy set the team's goal at $300. To date our tally is over $1800. That's remarkable considering how last-minute our whole campaign was!

Thank you. Thank you. Friends and family in Canada, in the US, overseas - I'm proud to call you my own.

Thank you.

Relay for Life: Update

2011-05-31T13:41:00.000-07:00

Getting closer to the weekend. Last year the Relay started at 7 pm, this year it's at 6 pm. Good thing I read the ad for the paper, eh?

Fundraising is going great thanks to some very special and generous people (you too could be in that exaulted group!!!). I have cash and cheque donations not yet included in the on-line tally, but can tell you I'm now over $500 in pledges and the team is over $1000. We're stoked.

Still time to get in on the event. Go to relaybc.ca, select Vernon, then Participant, and enter Brenda Giesbrecht. Follow the links and you'll be on my honor roll.

More info can be found at vernonmorningstar.com

How's that for a shameless plug?!

Relay for Life

2011-05-25T12:56:00.000-07:00

OK, people. I'm going to do something I said I would never do on a blog.

No, it does not involve full frontal nudity or Jello.

I'm going to put some personal information out for all the world to see, and it's for a very good cause.

I'm taking part in this year's Relay for Life for the Canadian Cancer Society. I'm a member of Team Grandpa Winks. He was a friend/co-worker's father who died from cancer a few months before my Mom did.

The relay takes place June 4-5 from 7pm to 7am. I'm walking during the midnight to morning shift.

Please, if you are a reader, a friend or someone who's life has been touched by cancer, here's how you can help.

Go to my Relay homepage

http://www.relaybc.ca/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=439270&lis=1&kntae439270=D8F4A0A215534F169E0E1507364D6692&supId=328535496

and make a donate on-line. If the link doesn't work (and sometimes, Lord knows, it doesn't) then drop me a line via the comment box and I'll send you the details.

This is a Canadian fundraiser but donations can of course be made from anywhere in the world thanks to the wonderful, wonderful world of credit cards.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0sCnsKv9Fw

I will miss my Mom every day for the rest of my life. Supporting research into prevention and cure of cancers will maybe help you to have your Mom or other loved one in you life just a little longer.

Thanks.

Quilting, Motorcycles and Puppies

2011-05-21T07:47:00.000-07:00

The title about sums up the way my days have been spent lately. I supposed I could have added gardening, but as that means trenching, digging weeds out of the vegetable spot and seeded but as-yet bare soil in said garden spot, it's not exactly the stuff of photo excellence.

Work is coming along steadily on the current crib quilt. Or was while the weather was damp and cool and the husband was up north.

I always like the pattern that emerges on the back of the quilt, a ghost image of sorts.

The weather has warmed up - finally! - in recent days, and in recent days there has been a new addition to the stable:

Yes, I finally acquired a sport bike! This is a 2006 Kawasaki Z750S. Brought it home last Monday. It was scuffed a bit in places but only has 10K kms on it (that's a summer riding season for me). The advantages of sleeping with a mechanic is knowing my ride will be healthy no matter what quirks the bike comes with. He dealt with the minor neglect issues and I've been using it the rest of the week. At a rated ( but not dyno'd) 120hp, it's more than enough for me. The windy Salmon River and Yankee Flats roads will see plenty of evening rides this summer as I tune in my sport bike skills.

Things are getting a bit crowded in the stable. There are two more bikes to the right of the top picture:

plus the little DiBlasi scooter in the shed ... although some might dispute its designation as a motorcycle (it's a tiny little folding scooter). The blue Yamaha scooter in the far back of the first pic is for sale, as is my trusty Suzuki 800.

I finished the (hopefully) final draft of the latest book design project. Sat down with my publishing partner one evening in an "I'm not leaving until it's all worked out" fine-tuning session. She's going over it with the client and (finger's crossed) planning to send it to the printers next week.

The Falkland Pro Rodeo is on this weekend. I'm working this afternoon, second shift in the beer gardens (serving & snapping cans, not drinking, thank you for asking). Possibly tomorrow as well. It's a three day event but I have things to do Victoria Day Monday.

And after the gardening-quilting-riding-publishing-beer wench activities, we must not forget the best part of a full and busy life:

Just Another Week in Paradise

2011-05-05T13:03:00.001-07:00

This morning, someone in the office said, "Did you hear about the grow-op raid near Falkland the other day?"

"That isn't news," I said, "that's Tuesday."

However, it was indeed a hallmark day. When I got home Wednesday night, Bryan asked what the big RCMP raid was at a place along the highway on route to Vernon. No idea. Squad cars, unmarked SUVs, even an RCMP helicopter.

And here's what it was all about. He saw it in live-time.

www.bclocalnews.com/okanagan_similkameen/vernonmorningstar/news/121287118.html

Wednesday

2011-04-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

Damp Dawn Parade, Memories of Sunrise Services

2011-04-25T15:21:00.000-07:00

I was perusing the Taranaki Daily News website this morning before work officially began. There were photos of the ANZAC Dawn Parade. In the rain.

The cenotaph in New Plymouth is only a short walk away from an apartment I had in New Plymouth a few years ago. I attended the Dawn Parade that year. Having played piano for a multitude of Remembrance Day services in Canada over the years, I found this ceremony refreshing and moving.

In the dense darkness of predawn, there was a p

reternatural quiet given the number of people gathered together. The surf pounded the nearby beach. It was moving. And chilly.

But not raining.

I remembered Easter Sunday sunrise services of years past. Those that occurred in March were particularly notable for their hypothermic potential.

Bad enough being up at dawn milking or during calving or having not gone to bed at all.

I am so not a morning person.

The End of a Double-Double Deadline Week

2011-04-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

This is how much of the week, and especially today, felt like.

Bruise of Honour

2011-04-17T09:52:00.000-07:00

I have a lovely deep purple bruise beginning its transformation to a less-than-lovely yellowish colour in the crook of my left arm.

The bruise is a badge of honour because it was incurred while giving a blood donation on Friday.

The donor clinic is coming to Vernon more frequently now and during hours when I can attend, and so I recommenced an activity that I'd been unable to take part in for many years now.

After the long screening process now required since HIV/AIDS and Chagas came into the picture, I finally got to the chair. The RN was swabbing my arm and for some stupid reason, I blurted out, "You know, I don't know why I'm here. I hate needles." Because, you know, they use huge honkin' needles (4 gauge or something damned close) so as not to damage the red blood cells.

She gave me a long look, smiled and said, "I hate needles, too" then proceeded to give a very nice needle, as huge honkin' gauge needles go. And I was an exemplary donor because I filled my quota in 9 minutes. Yea for me.

The rain outside this morning is looking suspiciously like snow. It's melting upon contact with the ground, so I'm thinking it's just snow with bad attitude. Spring, grow a set and fight back!

Chai Tea morning

2011-04-10T08:23:00.000-07:00

Cuppa tea this morning rather than my usual coffee fix. Some days, that just seems right.

No doubt the coffee pot will come out later in the day.

Those observant ones in the know, yes indeed that is a Northern Gateway Public Schools mug. And yes, Rosie and Pat, that is a tea bag floating in a mug and not properly steeping in a tea pot. I own a tea pot. I'm just lazy. It is Tim Horton's Chai Tea, not that that means anything to anyone but a Canadian.

The butterfly quilt is finished, washed and in the hands of Sean and Jenna. Mike and Loren's is now underway. You might have seen a quilt with this fabric in Mom's house or in my granddaughter's crib.

The pattern on this fabric isn't as dense as the butterfly fabric, so I'll do in-fill quilting on the blue sky between balloons as well as inside the balloons themselves. Just now, I'm working around each balloon. My photos are a little dark. These are bright, bright Crayola crayon colours.

The sewing room is still in a bit of disarray but I did get the books moved and the fabric stash sorted. The photos are two of my favs. The group is my mom's mother with her siblings and father, taken in Rocky Mountain House in 1940. Mom is the infant in her mother's arms, older sister Betty standing in front. And the one to the right is Mom at my brother's house holding one of Daisy's little tiny very new puppies (Daisy is a Jack Russell, like our girls).

Spring has been slow to arrive. Environment Canada gurus are saying that the entire West will experience a cold, wet spring. They'll get no argument from me. Sorel and mint, poppies and weeds are all that's poking their heads through in the garden. The narcissis and hyacinth are holding back.

Inside, one of my 'creepy' plants is in seasonal glory:

That ropey, spiny thing is a Crown of Thorns. It often has more leaves on it, but its true gift is the incredible blooms it puts out:

This plant is a particularly prolific bloomer.

It was a bit sunnier outside yesterday but cool enough to make trenching bearable. I've been burying the drip line supplying water to the trees and shrubs around the perimeter of the yard. There's also drip line in and around the flower beds but I like to keep it tight to the surface so I don't inadvertently hit it with a shovel or fork and tear it.

The line for the trees needs to be shallow buried so we don't rip it with the mower or string trimmer.

From the kitchen balcony, looking northwest up the hill alongside the house. You can see the black irrigation line laying on the ground. Disturbed dirt at the top near the woodpile where I quit yesterday.

Above: looking straight west along the north boundary of the property and the fir trees I've transplanted from the volunteer plantation on Kelly's lot. The line is already buried here, as well as to my left, and to the south at a 90 degree angle from the end of this row.

Heading straight south along the west property boundary. The group of firs and our woodpile is straddling the property line, but as the land beside us is CSRD land - the fire hall property - it isn't a big deal. Doubt very much there will be a fence here unless we build it.

The little tree immediately in the foreground is a Rocky Mountain juniper, another local transplant. I have a few of them in this corner of the yard.

Around the woodpile and looking down to the bottom of the yard. The white stake is a boundary marker. The string is electric fence line to (hopefully) keep the deer out and away from the roses. It works even better on teenagers.

The water line is running to the left of these big trees, among the varieties of horizontal juniper we planted there. They provide good ground cover and excellent quail habitat. The line goes on to water the magnolia and catalpa trees further to the south, and then to the line of cedars along the south boundary.

The lot measures 26m x 62m (85 ft x 205 ft). So far I've buried 52m (170 ft) of line, around the north end. I've got 135m (440 ft) left to do because the line doubles back along the bottom of the yard, along the cedars, through the southeast rose and lily bed and then back west to supply the dogwoods, cottoneasters and roses parallel but north of the cedars.

I should get the line running south along the west border done today. And if not before 4 pm, then too bad because Canada plays Scotland in the Mens World Championship today and there's a table at the pub with my name on it.

In a Dither

2011-04-07T18:09:00.000-07:00

Hi Rosie! Nice to know you stopped by.

The spring weather can't make up its mind today: light snow this morning, sunshine during the afternoon (like I'd know, sitting in an office), rain in one valley and thin sunlight in another driving home.

Likewise I can't make up my mind: stay home, get some chores done and work on the next quilt, or head down to the pub to watch Canada vs Norway in the World Curling event (the occasional inconvenience of not having television serve at home - by choice I might add). Stoughton's secured a berth in the finals, going unbeaten through the round robin to this point.

I'd kinda like to see Ulsrud beat him tonight only because I'm so not a Stoughton fan. Sort of like politics - like the party if not the leader, or the leader but not the local candidate ... you get the picture, I hope.

It's just so hard to get past the whole pants thing with the Norwegians, though. Doncha think?

Check it out.

curling.ca

March Going Out Like a Lamb

2011-03-26T08:49:00.000-07:00

It doesn't matter how long or short, how mild or savage our winters are - by the end of March, every Canadian is in full whine mode: "When will winter end?!! When will spring arrive?!!"

I thought perhaps it had arrived this week. We've almost no snow left. However, the temperatures this morning reminded me that appearances are deceiving and it's still plenty cold enough out there yet. Best to stay inside curled up to a warm computer with a hot coffee close to hand.

Bryan and the girls are up north where it truly is still winter. Trust me on this one. He's been singing sad songs ever since arriving a few days ago. The only two things both taking him there and keeping him there are the accountant and friend Mike who's on vacation and for whom he's house/pet sitting.

Hannah and Socket have grown tremendously in the past few months. They're very, very smart and keep Bryan on the go most of the time. Hannah is a pleaser, loves to play and is easy to train. Socket is more challenging, always pushing the boundaries to see how far she can take it ....

... as you can see by her attempted to pretend she didn't just do what she ought not to have done, and hiding behind the footstool.

Spring means spring cleaning - the item on today's agenda. Last weekend was more just catching up around here, but I love love love it when I get the laundry out on the line. Most times during the week it's quicker and easier to use the dryer if I'm running a load through in the evening but nothing beats hanging freshly washed clothes out in the sunshine.

Today I must tackle the sewing room. It's been in sad disarray since I returned from Alberta, due in part to the infusion of fabric, quilting supplies and works in progress inherited from Mom, a small portion shown below.

Now to be fair, the sewing room was in a big of a schmoz before I travelled east, as it's the room that between projects, is the general dumping grounds for things I'm not ready to deal with or don't exactly know what to do with other than a certainty it/they can't been removed from the house ... yet.

Here we have a fine array of mending, leftover polar fleece, random leftover Christmas cards, linens to be ironed, rainbow dyed wool top, cotton batt requiring preshrinking, and miscellaneous tools and books to be returned to their proper places. Never you mind how long some of it has been on the little bed.

On the other hand, this is the reason nothing got done in the sewing room lately.

Yes, a totally clean desk (never mind the partially eaten waffle on the corner). Many of you have never seen the top of my desk, or at least this much of it, but I have proof that it does happen at least once a year - and NO, I didn't just sweep everything off onto the floor out of range of the photo!!!

The book are done for year end and at the accountants. I decided to remove the file organizers from the desktop because Bryan has never in almost 30 years voluntarily filed anything in them anyway, just me. So the current year's files are in the drawer and a basket will soon grace one corner to accept paperwork.

Now there's room for my laptop on the desk! Like now. Cool

And while I'm in confessional mode, this is the other reason cleaning up has been shoved into a back closet.

I'm almost finished the butterfly baby quilt. It's the last quilt Mom worked on. She only had the binding partially finished (on these little quilts, it's easier to bind them before quilting), so I started working on it when I sat with her, and then in the hospice at odd moments.

You can probably see by the pins that I just have the borders to do. I'll mark them today (after cleaning, promise) and perhaps get working on that part tonight. For those who are interested, it measures 130cm by 100cm (52" by 40").

Mom always made whole-cloth baby quilts using fabric with large bright prints. The borders break up the monotony and add visual interest. These aren't classic whole-cloth quilts - the quilting is done around the print elements on the cloth.

Then again, these are quilts to be used, not hung up for display. I expect to see my baby quilts on the floor, in a crib, in the laundry basket - again! and held tightly in the hand of a sleeping child.

This quilt already has an owner, a wee one due to be born in July. There's another quilt ready to follow right behind this one, bright yellow covered in hot air balloons, for another July baby. At this rate, I'll have Mom's 24+ baby quilts done up in - oh - 6 or 8 years.

Right.

Goodbye, Mom

2011-03-06T16:39:00.000-08:00

The past few weeks have been a blessing and a heartache.

After a brief battle with cancer, my mom died on 27 Feb shortly after her 72nd birthday, about six weeks after her diagnosis.

I was able to spend the last two weeks with her, first at home with the help of her older sister and close friends, and than at Agape Hospice in Calgary.

Mom had an aggressive cancer, primarily in her spine, that progressed at a frightening pace. Heavy painkillers and steroids gave her a good four days to celebrate our birthdays at home and provide her with a unique gift - one-on-one time with her children, grandchildren, siblings and close friends.

Even in her dying, she was caring for us and nurturing us, helping old wounds to heal and teaching her grandchildren how to die with grace and dignity. There were laughter and tears, family bonds made and renewed.

She died quietly and peacefully on Sunday night, knowing exactly where she was going and meeting it great faith and longing in her heart.

Dad, my brothers and I had time this last week to get our heads around it all, and organize a simple but meaningful celebration of life for mom. Over 400 people attended her funeral - pushing the church past its legal capacity, and I'm sure others came to the lunch afterwards who were unable to get to the service.

It was a quiet and mostly restful (for me) trip home through the mountains with Bryan and the dogs. Today has been a quiet day at home, to gather myself back together and move forward into a new life without my mother.

Bryan's health issues have reared their ugly head again with new and 'interesting' aspects. From one challenge straight into another. And nothing to do but take it head-on.

Thank you to everyone who emailed or telephoned over the past three weeks, to those who provided opportunities for me to occasionally step back from the intensity of it all and to those who attended mom's service and gathering. It means so much to know I have a strong and faithful group watching my back!

Photoshop Delight and Fruit Stickers

2011-02-06T15:03:00.000-08:00

Do you ever have those moment when everything goes RIGHT on a project and fills you with glee?

This one one of those moments.

I do graphic design and most times I'm trying to take a client's concept and make it work ... often times trying to fit far too much copy into far too small a space. One of the mantras you often hear floating on the air in our little corner of the world is "20 lbs of shit in a 5 lb bag."

Our motto is "Impossible is easy. Miracles just take a little longer."

Anyway, this one is mine all mine, or almost because desk neighbour Sean helped me refine my photoshop skills.

I've been working on series of house ads in my spare time, self-promotion ads for the newspaper. It's an ongoing project as the ads constantly need refreshing. Sometimes an idea catches in my brain and I can build an entire campaign around this, and two weeks ago a random wander through our image bank led to this ad. In real life it's 10.333 inches wide by 14 inches tall. (Yes, I know we're in a metric age but most of our clients aren't. Hush.)

I was trying to think of unlikely places to find a message. Tattoos are a common part of our society and so are T-shirts (T-shirts with logos are a funny way for companies to get advertising done, by having the customers pay for it.)

The Canadian National Newspaper Association recently posted research findings as tweets - messages in 140 character or less - and I made a tweet into a tattoo. The * is for the statistic source notated at the bottom of the ad. And further up in the ad is the website http://www.vernonmorningstar.com/

The publisher is trying to establish closer ties between our print and on-line versions.

This project required some new skillsets that I didn't have in my arsenal, hence Sean's help. We often help each other in our department this way, as each person has strengths that the others don't. Anyway, the crowning jewel was making the newspaper's logo part of the tattoo.

The publisher loves it. The advertising manager is amused that our 'poster boy' is now on at least two computer desktops in the office. My husband thinks it's great and I giggled for days.

An advantage of sharing the building with the press is access to other papers from the region. I often grab a handful of them to bring home - husband loves to read them - or peruse in search of new ideas, or simply for the news.

The Salmon Arm Observer had an interesting item in their gossip column (they call it Sidewalk Supervisor but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck ....) that perhaps you already knew. I didn't, so I'm going to share.

Next time you buy fruit or veggies, look at the label stuck onto it. You know, the little annoying one that is hard to remove and has a barcode on it. There are also numbers on it, a PLU (Price Look Up code). They describe the exact variety, size and place of origin for every type of fruit and vegetable produced in the world. Go to plucodes.com if you're interested.

But that isn't what Sidewalk Sally wrote about. The site, that is. She informed me that if there are three numbers - 4011 for bananas, for example - that they were conventionally grown.

If there is an 8 before those numbers - 84011 - they are genetically modified produce, and if the prefix is a 9 - 94011 - then they are organically grown.

Cool, eh? The little things you learn.

Like the time I learned the secret of the wee pointer triangle beside the gas pump icon on my car's gauge panel. Does your car have one? Look. It points to the side of the car where the filler cap is located. Brilliant. And there is no mention of it in the car's manual. I looked. I learned about it in an issue of Harrowsmith magazine about 5 years ago. Changed my life forever, at least when refueling a vehicle.