Tuesday, July 29, 2014

How Much Fun Can You Pack In An Evening While Waiting For A Husband's Plane? You wouldn't believe!

Today is Tuesday. The last day I felt this alert was Sunday, and this will explain why.

I worked on Sunday, and this particular day was the beginning of another spell of really hot weather, which I guess we all sort of expect, it being summer, and all. The day started off with a big bang - a REALLY big bang - when one of the awnings crashed down on the sidewalk. Thankfully there were no people on the sidewalk. Even more thankfully, it didn't crash down while I was putting our sidewalk sale stuff out there, or now there would be a big gash where my head should be, and you probably wouldn't be reading this now. However, no one got hurt, although the adrenal that shot through my body was probably enough for a Work Safe claim, if I was so inclined to push it.

However, the day itself went on uneventfully, with surprisingly few customers, given the hot Steveston Sunday. I guess a lot of people were seeking the wetness of a beach or the coolness of a mall. 

Since Howard's plane was due to arrive at the airport at 10 pm, I was wavering between spending an hour and a half transit-ing home, spending nearly a couple of hours there, then driving back to the airport with Steve. (Actually, Steve would  be doing the driving, I would just be sitting.) When I grabbed my cell to tell him I wouldn't be coming home, but would hang around Steveston, go to the beach, grab a bite ... etc etc, I noticed he had sent me a text message - 

See? Great minds really do think alike.

 So, I had just locked the door and stepped around the corner into the shade, when he zipped around the same corner, parked the car, and we headed to Steveston Pizza for his first taste of the Green Earth pizza, which is only made by the very best artisan pizza makers in the world.


Roasted garlic, caramelized onions, spinach, enoki mushrooms, fresh tomatoes, and brie - can't get much better than that. Unless of course you order the Best of Seas pizza, which has to be pre-ordered and costs $725.00, and I'm sure it's worth every penny, if you like stuff like caviar and truffles.

 So we ate just about all of that yummy goodness, and finished off with a Screamer dessert - soft-serve ice-cream layered with lime slush and decided how to spend some of the time remaining - about 3 1/2 hours - before Flight WS723 touched down.

 ( This is about the time I should have checked my FB messages.)

 Steve decided a trip to the casino would be fun, so up we drive, and I mean up, as he headed for Floor 3 parking at the River Rock Casino. He had his little heart set of playing Blackjack, which I've only played unsuccessfully on scratch-off tickets, and even though he really, really, really wanted me to play, I insisted I would just sit and watch. I obviously didn't bring him good luck at this particular game - I'm not sure if he'll want to play it again.
However, I wasn't averse to playing a slot machine. I'm an old pro at this, as I must have been to casinos at least 4 times in my like, losing from $5 to $20 each time. Except for the time Pauline and I went last June, and we turned $5 each into and amazing $42.
It was great when the bells and whistles went mad, and that number on the bottom right started shooting up - at one point it actually went over 1000, and I was up to the amount I put in. Which was $20, thanks to Steve, who insisted on funding my gambling addiction.
I decided to take Kenny Rogers advice, though, and quit before I was absolutely broke. I printed my cash out voucher - when I showed it to Howard later, I told him I would cash it out when we really needed the money.
As we walked back to the car, passing happy smiling people on their way to lose all their money, we went by a very scenic overgrown area, and I was so happy to see a heron. He was almost hidden in the overgrowth, so I had to zoom in and find a spot between the trees and bushes to capture him on my phone, which is why the picture is a bit hazy.
And lo and behold, the blackberries are ripening. It's hard to imagine that a pretty white flower can first turn into a green, then pink, then black cluster of deliciousness. I plan to capture as many as I can this year.
Well. Now we only had about 2 1/2 hours to wait. (I really should have checked my FB messages.) I thought it would be nice to go to Iona Beach. Steve and I had been there a while ago, on a cool breezy morning, when we walked out on the 4km pier to toss a bottle in memory of George Donaldson for my buddy Patricia - being in Calgary she was just too far from an ocean to throw it herself.

 We didn't walk the pier this evening though, but wandered first of all to the IBA to check out the IBs that were supposedly there.
Neither one of us saw any birds in the Important Birds Area though, although it was a very peaceful and idyllic place. (Is that redundant? It probably is.)
 
Then we headed to the beach.
The tide was high, so we didn't have massive flats of sand to walk. It was so wonderful to hear the waves slosh  in, though. One of my favourite sounds.
No whales dancing in these waters, though.
The sun let us know time was passing, as it neared the horizon. (This also would have been a good time to check my FB messages.)
The last time my feet were in ocean water, along with the rest of me, was on January 1st, when Nikkie and I did the Polar Bear Swim.

Well, at least I did the swim. Nikkie only went in as far as her ... well, let's just say she wouldn't have gotten her panties wet. The water here was a lot warmer than at White Rock, though. Nice. But, you know that 4 km pier we walked along? That is actually not just a pretty sight - it is built on top of a what must be much longer than 4 km sewer pipe that leads from a sewer treatment plant about 1/4 km from the park. So I wasn't going to put much more than my feet in the water. The faint aroma penetrating our nostrils was enough input to my senses - I wouldn't want it to infiltrate my sense of taste as well.
So - pizza, casino, park - just as well to head to the airport now. (Damn. I really should have checked my FB messages.) On the way from the park, with Steve trying to impress and terrorize me with his driving skills, we realized we were driving underneath an approaching plane - so Steve yanked on the wheel and did a Dukes of Hazard landing on the gravel parking area. I'm sure the other people appreciated this as much as I did.
If you are one of my faithful readers, you may remember hearing about my shadow at times - the one that actually does the things that I wish I, as a real person, could do? Well, here is proof it exists - I'm the shorter one of course. Steve's shadow unfortunately seems to be underneath the wheel of his car.
Okay. We get to the airport. Check the arrival signs. Now I didn't have to check my FB message - this is when we find out the plane is an hour late, and will arrive at 11pm instead of 10. An hour and a half wait gets turned into a two and a half hour. What on earth shall we do for 2 1/2 hours? Go the bar, of course.

 Steve may look happy now, but that look doesn't last for long. He ordered a beer,
and even though the bartender probably wasn't even born when Tom Collins were all the rage, he still knew how to make one, although he may have just poured a little too much of  whatever makes one's lips pucker.
It was good, though, especially when the ice started to melt and toned down the citrus hit a bit. Of course it was good, it had gin in it. As I told the bartender, when I get old I'm going to start drinking gin, so it's just as well to start practicing.

 After we finished our drinks, we headed up to the observation deck to check out the sunset.
After the sunset got a bit boring, we watched a King of the Hill episode on Steve's phone.
Then - we checked the arrival times again - now the gd plane was delayed yet another hour, and wouldn't land until 12:20 am.

 Since neither one of us could come up with a good way of passing away almost another 3 hours in an extremely quiet airport, we got in the car, paid a whopping $18 parking fee for our adventures, and headed home. About an hour and a half later, we headed back out, another half hour drive, and only had about a ten minute wait before Howard came down n escalator and back into our lives.

I'm going to close with this FB status update from last night - it's self-explanatory
Tamar Vokey
15 hrs · Surrey ·
went to bed 4 hours before the alarm went off, got up at 5:30, at work by half past eight, worked for 8 hours in a hot shop, and home by 7:30..Stumbled to bed and crashed - for about 5 minutes when Howard came in to tell hamburgers were done. .Couldn't get back to sleep so got up and had part of one. Before I was done, he looked at me and said, 'Well, any muffins tonight?' I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but if was laugh it would have been a hysterical one.
LikeLike · ·

And by the way - this is the following FB message I should have checked when I got off work - thanks, Josh and Bernice -

Mom wanted me to give ya a quick note that she seen uncle Howard board his plane in Toronto
We are delayed in Toronto. Lighting storm moving over the airport. Dunno how long we will be sitting on the plane. Our guess is uncle Howard is delayed too

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Saturday, July 26, 2014

Recitations - From the Amateurish to the Absolute Best!

Three of the poems in my little book were sorta kinda story poems - a bit lamer than the traditional Newfoundland recitations, but I did my best. 

 The first one is called Mose and the Moose and I do believe I was motivated by my brother-in-law Cyril, when he decided to play tag with a moose on the way home from Clarenville one night. I guess he was being really thoughtful, thinking I needed some poem fodder.

 Mose and the Moose

Our country's laws are strange, it seems,
As Mose knows, there's no doubt,
As he was driving home one night,
A moose, bewitched by his headlights,
From the forest wandered out.

Mose hit the brakes, his car to stop,
The tires squealed, and left
Black marks, but he could not stop it
In time, the poor young buck was hit,
Poor Mose was quite bereft.

For there his brand new Chevy sat,
Its front end squatted in
He'd never even had the time
To make one payment, not one dime,
It was a real darn sin.

Oh well, he said, my car is gone,
At least I'll have the meat,
All winter long it will provide
Meat stewed and roasted, boiled and fried,
For all my folks to eat.

And so he hailed a passing car
A ride back home he got
He and his friends returned with saws
To strip the moose from hoofs to jaws
All ready for the pot.

Now things did not go smoothly
As poor Mose found that night
He got the meat down to his yard
And then he found his driveway barred
With cars with flashing lights.

They took his winter's hoard away
To an institution's kitchen
To feed the crooks and thieves and such
That left poor Mose with not too much
No car. No moose. No nuthin'.

Of course, the only similarity here was the fact that Cyril wrecked his car, and of course, a moose. Everyone knows that one doesn't harvest the meat from road kill. 

Even though I know absolutely no one who has ever poached a moose, ever, I still managed to write a poem about poaching. That's because I'm smrt.

 The Week Before Christmas

'Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the hoose,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the moose,
In the basement its carcass was hanging with care,
In hope that no Mountie  would track it down there,
And poppy and daddy and Uncle Mose too
Were down in the basement with good Newfie brew.

When out in the yard there arose such a clatter
They ran to the door to see what was the matter
And right in the driveway did quickly appear
A car with two Mounties - their hearts filled with fear,
And meanwhile, the pot filled with kidneys and 'lights'
Gave an odour of moose to this crisp winter night.

Now nanny was setting the table for four,
When seeing the Mounties, put out two plates more
And she went to the door when they knocked to get in
Not seeing the wee spot of blood on her chin .
The Mounties said, "Madam, it may seem absurd,
But news of some moose meat around here we've heard.

"Would you mind if we search, the rumor to quench?"
Said nanny, "No, look, and please do stay for lunch."
Well, the mounties came in, and they looked here and there
And one of them went to the basement stair,
When poppy and daddy and Uncle Mose too
Did what they, in a tight spot, had no choice but to do.

They started to growl at the foot of the stair
Like three vicious dogs on the track of a bear
And the Mountie, he stopped with one foot on the stair
And nan said,"We've got to keep Killer down there,
He's an awful mean dog when he sees someone strange
At the sight of a uniform, he's completely deranged.

"You'd better be careful, he'll tear you in two,
But go look if you must, do what you have to do."
The Mountie leaped back, and he went to his pal
And said, "There's no need to look down there at all
In fact, I remembered just then that we're late -
We're almost off duty, and we've both got a date.

"So if you'll excuse us, we'd better move on ..."
And before you could say Santa Claus, they were gone
And poppy and daddy and Uncle Most too
Came upstairs for a scoff of that good moose meat stew.

By the way, this is not a good way to cook moose. Just saying.

 see a cachedfree moose profile image search cartoon of moose
(In case your wondering, 'lights' refer to more moose innards. You're welcome to them.)

The last one is based on a story I heard from Ada, my one time partner in crime. I don't know if it was true or not - maybe she was pulling my leg, but I wrote this anyway. If there is indeed a 'Louie' then sorry - but this isn't about you. It's about someone else who lived far, far away.

Louie

 Oh, his yearly round with the moonshine flask
Brought Louie to our door,
It was nearing one on Christmas Eve
When we heard him knock and roar.

 We were having a party anyway
So we let old Louie in
And he wobbled through the door and set his bottle
On the kitchen table with a grin.

 He flopped on the chair, almost missing the seat
For he was almost too drunk to walk
And the folks that were there shut up because
Louie wouldn't give them time to talk.

 Yes, he held his glass with no steady hand
As he talked about times gone past
Every now and then bursting into song
Til he finally headed home at last.

 We watched as he stumbled up the lane
And we wondered if he'd be all right
So I put on my coat to follow him
And make sure that he got home this night.

 Well, I followed him home, but he didn't go in
To his house, but walked to the barn
Where Nellie, his horse, was sheltered
With hay to keep her warm.

 Well, Louie went up to Nellie's stall
And stroked her chestnut head,
And I heard him say, "Is 'ee 'ungry?
"Do 'ee want some oats, me maid?"

 Well, he didn't see me by the wall
So I thought I'd have some fun
When he asked again, "Is 'ee 'ungry?"
I said, "Yup, Louie!" then I run.

 I hid myself by the apple tree
And I saw Louie run like hell
To the kitchen door where his missus stood,
For she'd been watching us for a spell.

 Well, I'll never forget the sound of Louie's voice
When in tears he grabbed her arm
"Nellie said she was hungry, she talked to me
When I was in the barn!"

 No I'll never forget the Christmas Eve
When Nellie to her master spoke
And I'm damned well sure that Louie won't,
For the only thing he drinks now is coke!


Now, since you've worked your way through these, there's a treat ahead. It's about an hour long, but this CBC clip of 4 real recitations, by 4 real Newfoundlanders, is worth a listen. Blast up your speakers, and have a Newfie dictionary handy - Stage to Stage - Newfoundland Recitations Now and Then













 
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Friday, July 25, 2014

Back to the Past - with my little ditties and pics ... Winter Wonderland? I Think Not ....




We used to have winter way back in late 70's, in Newfoundland, and I am shivering in the low 20's (Celcius) now just thinking about it.

The first school where I taught in Trinity was up high on a hill, and to get there, I had to first go up Doctor's Hill, which for those of you not familiar with the area, was indeed a hill, and then go up the hill to the school - which was situated half (well, maybe a quarter) way up Gun Hill. Doctor's Hill would usually be plowed if there was school, but not the school hill. Oh no, that was only a path, with a fence on one side. This fence was handy to hang on while climbing up the icy path in one's platform boots.

If you look at the picture below, you can see that school, perched way way up. The middle set of windows were in my grades 3/4 classroom. Check out snow levels .... 
 However, as Mr Smith found out one morning, the fence didn't always do its job, as he was half way up, probably with chains on his boots, when he met me cruising backwards, down towards him on my hands and knees.

The fence wasn't practical either when it was buried under 3 feet of snow. (I just hope all you ex-pupils realize how difficult it was for your mini-skirted teacher to arrive at the schoolhouse door each morning. It was true dedication.)

As I attempted Doctor's Hill
All covered well with ice
I only slipped a million times
And cracked my bottom twice.

And when I almost reached the top
A 50 hour breeze
Gave me a nudge and down I sailed 
Upon my hands and knees

 And down I slid past Esther's gate
As quickly as the devil
And didn't stop until I hit
A pot-hole on the level.

Of course, these wintry days weren't always a bad thing. Not when the snow and wind combined to make a wailing blizzard, and there was no school for the day. That's when I'd just crawl into bed with Ivy and Suzanne, and we'd hibernate. I'm pretty sure we'd have a stash of junk food and smokes for nourishment, also.
When the school was closed down after Christmas in 1974 all the kids were bussed 'round the arm' to a brand new, modern elementary school adjoining Bishop White High School, and together they became Bishop White All-Grade, where I was placed in a Grade 4 classroom. I never passed that grade, not in almost 20 years - in fact, I was very content just being held back year after year.

Besides the schooling of the kids in Trinity Bight, the school was a sort of community centre, and I remember at least two 'courses' that were offered.

Doctor Duncan taught all the teachers First Aid. I almost needed first aid when Vernie, my friend and coworker, actually stopped all my vital organs with her version of the Heimlich maneuver. Or maybe it was the CPR punch that usually breaks ribs. Whatever it was, it left me lying in a foetal position trying unsuccessfully to get my breath. I guess I did eventually. It seemed time stopped.

We're Doctor Duncan's helpers
And if do things right
We'll save your life if possible
And you won't even get a bill
To make you all uptight.

If you have wounds we'll dress them
With bandages and such
We'll splint and sling and respirate
We'll do you up what e'er your fate
Just pray you're not hurt much.

We'll stop that cut from bleeding
We'll whumph what makes you choke
And if your heart decided to halt
We'll punch it back - it's not our fault
If all your ribs get broke.

If you black out we'll gently
Place you in semi prone
And keep our eyes on watch for you
Prepared to do what we must do
Til someone comes to phone.

If you get burned severely
We'll pour cold water there
And if we have to carry you
Three knuckles up is what we'll do
A very handy chair.

We're Doctor Duncan's helpers
So if you need First Aid
Be sure that one of us is near
And you'll have nothing else to fear
Yes sir, you'll have it made. 

I'm just glad I never had to put any of that stuff into use, especially as my knees turn to water at the sight of blood. One thing about the modern times, a cell phone is always near at hand, and I'm sure an ambulance would arrive before anyone bled out.

A Monday night Torture class that probably didn't last long was an exercise class led by our principal, Mr Kelley. It's a wonder we all didn't need First Aid after an hour or so of this. It's probably the reason I stay clear of exercise now.

You must have heard of Nazis
The tortures they'd devise
To inconvenience every part
From toenails up to eyes 

Well they've finally infiltrated
Newfoundland, to our distress
And where they're starting out at
Is not too hard to guess

Yes, Monday nights at Bishop White
When Melvin holds the whip
And drives us poor sweet ladies
Til we're frothing at the lip

O-kay! Beep-beep! touch your toes
Raise your legs, your chins
Don't pay attention to the death
Of muscles in your shins

But we'll get him back some day
When playing soccer, and 
We'll whop that ball right at him
Revenge will be so grand.

Of course, we also did fun stuff in the school - like playing darts in the staffroom. During our lunch hour, of course. Usually after we ate lunch, and some of us had filled the room up with smoke, making visibility poor for the dart throwers.

Well, Sandy got on first
With a double to the board
You should have heard the squealing
When she scored!

And then 'twas Cec's turn
Three darts were not enough
You should have heard the language
Things got rough.

And poor Yvonne decided
To use the duplicator
You should have heard the cries of pain
When Ada's third dart hit 'er.

But that was not enough
And Audrey, acting cool
Aimed for Barry, bending down 
Scored fifty for the bull.

Oh yes, these were indeed the good old days. However, winter still reared its ugly head, as this school was in Port Rexton, and I lived in Trinity. Which meant instead of crawling up two hills - I had to drive up, down and around eight miles of them - commonly known as going round the arm -to get to work.

As I was driving 'round the arm'
The wind galed up into a 'starm'
 The snow began to drift and blow
I couldn't see just where to go
But crawled along without a hitch
Until I landed in a ditch.

 Of course, snow wasn't the only impediment to driving that particular course. I remember once, while driving home after some night-time do, it was so foggy I could barely see the hood of the car, and had to stick my head out of the driver's side window so I estimate where the turn-off at Lockston was.

Yup. Pretty much like this: 
 
 So as you can,  between the snow and the ice and the fog, 40-year-ago Newfoundland winters were definitely not for sissies. Got to go now, the temp has dropped below 20 degrees Celcius - time to turn on the furnace.



 
 
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