September 14 - Finally finding my groove again - walking, baking - and while still doing dishes, that did not dominate my waking hours.

 Here is my old friend, the Power Tower I pass by every time Will and I walk to his school  I’ve taken pictures of this in all kinds of weather - today gave us a coolish morning where I wished I wore my sweater, and a hot afternoon, where I wished I didn’t have to wear any clothes at all. Only kidding. I always enjoy wearing clothes, no matter how hot it gets.

See all these bushes growing in front? Blackberry bushes, but between the first time I checked the maturity of the berries - only a few ripening and those not so sweet yet - and the next time about a week later, they were just all shriveled, dried up and tiny. Last year I would go walking with my plastic jug every morning, and bring it home filled to the brim. Except for the few times I would stop on the way and pour half of them into somebody’s bowl. Usually, but not always, somebody I knew a little. 

So, my grapes are long gone, thanks to that cute but greedy little raccoon, who only nibbled a few while we were watching, and then obviously brought his whole damn family, in-laws and all, in the dead of one night and stripped the vines. They probably spent the following week making preserves. 

However, today I found two little treasures that were hiding beneath the grape leaves most of the summer. 

Steve’s little hot pepper, just a little bit of red basking in the sun …

… and Howard’s big red bell pepper, who, unfortunately for it, will soon end up in a stir fry. 

I also found this little fellow, who came from heaven knows where. I can guarantee it won’t end up in one of Howard’s stir fries. 

Today was the first day in almost a year I got over 10,000 steps - 13,308, to be exact, in three walks. One to bring Will to school, and do a side trip to the pharmacy, one to No Frills, where Howard and I went to buy a chunk of bologna for supper - pan fried potatoes with bologna and beans (can’t order that at Denny’s), and the last to bring Will home from school. 

I also made a pan of brownies (cheated with a brownie mix) and a lemon pie. 

About the lemon pie. I cracked one egg, put the yolk in the pot, and the white in a bowl. Repeated that step with the second egg. But when I looked in the pot, this is what I saw. 

Just looked like one egg. I knew I had two in there, because I could see two sets of eggshell halves on the counter in front of me. I went ahead with the lemon filling anyway, hoping I wouldn’t find the first egg yolk  in my pocket later in the day. (I didn’t.)

So, all considered, this was one of the most normal days I’ve had in a long, long time. I still get some pain at times, mostly my hands and my right knee, but I can live with that. But getting my stamina back is a huge deal. 

So thankful. 

September 13 - Not all second-hand stuff comes from the thrift store.

I have a confession. 

I haven’t been my usual happy-go-lucky,  up for anything self lately, but more of a moody, don’t talk to me or I might snap at you, don’t want to go anywhere, kind of jerk  

I checked. Mood swings and depression are some side effects of the medication I take for RA, so I just have to try not to kill anyone (or have anyone kill me) for another three weeks until I see my rheumatologist, so she can get me on something that will make me opposite. 

So, that’s part of the reason I’ve been having difficulty writing this blog every night (I hope), and the reason I’ve been hauling up the used words from years ago. 

Like I’m doing right now. At least there’s pictures  

******************

Friday, March 2, 2012

I really needed a beach, and I knew there was one in White Rock, so that became my plan for the day. I walked to the bus stop to catch the 321, which would take me to Surrey Central, where I would transfer to a White Rock Centre bus, then planned to catch a Shuttle Bus to take me as close as possible to the beach. It just didn't seem to be a walking-kind of day today.

After catching the 321 Surrey Central bus to Surrey Central, I found Bay 10, where I would board the 321 White Rock Centre Bus. That is when I realized that if I had caught the 321 on the other side of the street, I could have bypassed the trip to Surrey Central. It was the same bus. Duh. Just another Tamar type of thing to do.

While on the bus, Steve called and, coincidentally, I found out that is where he was working. He invited me to Fatburger for lunch. I hadn't been to Fatburger before, but assumed the Fat refers to the size of the burgers, and not the contents, so I accepted with relish (and catsup, mustard, sauteed onions, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and cheese.) As I got closer to my destination, I kept my eyes open for either Fatburger, or the McDonald's directly across the street from it, and got off the bus at the nearest stop.

Good choice for lunch. And the Fatburger website is almost as good as its food - give it a listen -

http://www.fatburger.com/home/

After lunch, Steve sent me off in the right direction to find the beach. A  five minute walk, he said, so I wasn't going to bother taking the bus. Should have known better, but despite the rain and wind, it wasn't too bad, I suppose. I passed a mall with a Zellers, so decided to go in and get some warm gloves and a hat, as I was slowly getting really chilly, and knew it would be even colder by the ocean. Steve said I'd know when I was close as the road would start going downhill, and boy, he wasn't kidding.

...yeah, way down there- see the ocean?

The road started to dip a lot - the muscles in my legs started to complain a lot.

Well, at least there are some stairs here.

If you look really closely, you  can see how steep this hill is. I had to walk close to the wall and sort of hang on as I slithered down. Doctor's Hill has nothing on this one, let me tell ya.

One more flight of stairs and I'm almost there.

The most prominent thing on my mind as I minced my way down hill, was where the Shuttle bus picked up people for the trip back to White Rock Centre. I was really happy when I saw Bus Stop signs on the street above the beach, in front of this restaurant.

Isn't this cool? Much nicer than a fast-food joint!

Lots of rocks - but no clay pipes

and this is what all the fuss is about - the White Rock

The White Rock:White Rock's namesake, is located at west beach, just to the left of the pier, and the result of a glacial erratic that migrated south during the last glaciation. The 486-ton granite boulder was kept white by shellfish-eating seabirds, whose guano covered the rock, so much so that sailors in the 19th century used it as a beacon. However, it now remains white through frequent applications of white paint by the city parks department. It has been a popular graffiti target for over thirty years and is enjoyed by children throughout the year. - excerpt from a web site

I like this one better, though. the other one is a bit crappy.

The community of White Rock is named for the very large white rock on the beach. Legend has it, that a Sea God’s son fell in love with a Cowichan Indian Maiden. The lovers after being rejected by both fathers, vowed to make a new home. The Sea God’s son on seeing the big white rock, picking it up, threw it across Georgia Strait and then with his Cowichan princess, they followed the rock to begin a new life and a new tribe.

I had to walk out on the jetty before I went home, no matter how cold I was, no matter how red my hands were, no matter how runny my nose was. 

And what did I find when I got out there? This:

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

On the way back, the batteries died for my camera, but I  was smrt enough to remember my phone had a camera, so I was able to take a portrait of this fine feller

The waves weren't really fierce, but they still roared - a little

Walking back along the pier

I had to warm up a bit before I hit the road, so I went into an up-scale cafe for Coffee and a Scone. I felt a bit out of place there in my earflap hat....

... but it wasn't very busy, and they were very nice. I could have bought a dozen cupcakes for $15,  but I didn't. 

Then I was just in time to catch the shuttle bus to the town centre, where I bought some goodies from Hillside Bakery http://hillcrestbakeryanddeli.ca/ and met this fine feller.

September 12 - I wonder if the young people who won’t offer an old lady on the sky train a seat would be the one that would actually buy frozen sliced bananas? I think so.

 A little bit drizzly at times today, but mostly just a cloudy day. We went to Walmart this morning, where I was surprised to see -

- frozen sliced bananas. Okay, there are lots of frozen fruit in this freezer, but bananas? Cheap and available all year round - who on earth will buy frozen bananas? After all, if you have a freezer of any kind at home to put this bag of frozen bananas in, wouldn’t you realize it would be a lot cheaper to buy your own nice fresh yellow ones and freeze them yourself?

It’s a good job we don’t have to grow our own vegetables any more, just saying. 

However. After that trip, where the bill came to the magical number of $123.45, which I thought was pretty cool, we went to Value Village, where had been no new used records since my last visit. Then to the mall, where Howard had his buddy burgers, and I had a latte and a Raisin Bran muffin from Tim Hortons. And on the way to the car, Howard expressed his desire to go the hobby shop in Burnaby. 

Okay. We parked the car in a pay parking lot, and I went to the pay station, where I did everything right, inserted my credit card and took it out when the machine told me - and then the machine seemed to give up the ghost. No receipt. A few people started to line up behind us, and Howard reached over and pressed cancel. 

So I called the number on the thingie - twice in the next hour - and both times gave up after a few minutes listening to them tell me how busy they were. The payment doesn’t show up as pending on the credit card, so I guess I just have to wait and see if we get a ticket in the mail. If we do, I’m not paying it. 

Anyway, the car was still there, and not towed away, when we got back from Burnaby. I tell you, I am still not a happy transit user. 

At least on the way there, a couple of young people offered us their seats in the Seniors Seating area, but on the way back it was a different story. One girl got up, and I told Howard to sit as he’s a lot worse off than I am now, and I hung on to a pole for over 2 stops until another lady, in a regular seat, offered me hers. 

Meanwhile /

Just two of about 8 pairs of seats that were signed for handicap or seniors. 

I blame the parents. 

But, as I said, I was glad our car wasn’t towed. 

September 11 - Yes indeed, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

 Not feeling so good today, so nothing happening at all. 

I just went archiving again. And what I found was pretty weird. Because on this day in two thousand and something - 12 or 13, maybe - I was also  sick and feeling miserable, plus I had been suffering from a bite - that time, a spider, this time, a wasp. Well,  I’m glad to say, the spider bite is no longer bothering me, but that wasp bite is still a bit painful, but also starting to itch.

****************

I know it's pretty early to post, but I'm pretty sure nothing exciting is going to happen between now and bedtime, especially since bedtime is in the very near future. I left work early because I was, and am, feeling not so well. In retrospect, I'm usually pretty healthy, although I do enjoy complaining about the odd sniffle or the newfound creak, but today I just had to give into it, as I thought I was going to pass out by the glue section. And no, I wasn't sniffing it.

My co-worker figures it could be due to my humungously infamous spider bite, but I think it's just a bug - I know spiders are sort of bugs, but I mean those tiny little bugs that you can only see under a microscope. Thank God. Oh well, I'll either wake up tomorrow feeling better, in which case I shall return to work, or feeling worse, in which case I shall go see the doctor. The thought of doing either makes me want to stay in bed, and I'm not even there yet.

I'm working on Christmas Stocking Number 3, and although I spent a few hours this afternoon knitting, it didn't amount to much as I kept having to unknit due to mistakes, usually following a knit row pattern on a purl row. Concentration sure helps when you're doing intarsia - guess I shouldn't have been watching The Sopranos at the same time.

September 10 - We’ll sing in the sunshine - however, it was cloudy all day today.

 Well, checking the Convenient Archives tonight, as it’s so bloody close to tomorrow and I have absolutely nothing to say about today. I came across this from many years ago. I actually did love my job at the craft store, but obviously had a bad day back then. This was not a bad day, though, but it wasn’t a great one. 

Tomorrow will be better. 

**************

SEPTEMBER 10 LONG LONG AGO

- beef, bellyache,bewail, carp, fuss, groan, grouse, growl, grumble, kick up a fuss, moan,  snivel, sound off, wail, whimper, whine, and yammer - all of the above and more - 

I think I would like to work for the city of Richmond and give out Parking Tickets in Steveston. Just because I would love to have a job where people are pissed off at me for a change.

Customer: I need a 3.5mm circular needle and point protectors.
Me: Okay, I'll get them for you
So I go way to the back of the store and get said articles.
C: That's not what I want. I want Stitch Markers.
So I go way to the back of the store and exchange the point protectors for stitch markers.
C: I don't want a circular needle, I want straight ones.
So I go .... well, you get the drift.

Whereas, if I was writing someone an $80 parking ticket, he or she would be the one running up to the car and  getting frustrated. Not me. I would be wearing a uniform that made me look almost like a cop. And I would never, ever, ever have to show anyone how to knit Ruffle Scarves any more. Now people are coming by who have never bought a ball of ruffle yarn in our store in their lives, and saying, 'Oh yes, I bought some HERE last month, but now I can't figure out how to do it.' And I say, 'Well, we always show people how to knit the ruffle yarn they buy.' And they DON'T say, 'Well, I actually bought it at Walmart, or at Michaels, and they don't show people how to knit it, but you guys do. so I'll just tell a little lie and you can show me how .... ' And I wonder if Ticket Writing uniforms come in my size.

But the ones I love the best, are the ones who bring their friends in, and say, 'Oh yes, they'll show you how to do it, it's so easy, they don't mind here, they'll show you how do all the different kinds, but you don't have to buy any now (we'll go to Michaels later ...... )'

And then I come home, and Howard says, 'I put chicken in the oven, if you want to make a macaroni salad ....'
And I say, 'I've been gone from the house for 12 1/2 hours, I've been on my feet all day, I just want to sit down and watch my half-hour of Coronation Street that's coming on at 7:30 ......'
And he gets pissed off at me because I don't want to help with dinner, and then I get pissed off because even though the words on the TV screen a couple of weeks ago said this week Coronation Street was going to be broadcast at 7:30, it wasn't. It was on at 6:30, so I missed it. So guess who's pissed off now? We both are.

I'm going to bed. If he's lucky, I'll prepare tomorrow morning's coffee before I go. Maybe.

September 9 - Some sweet salty air on this sunny summer day. And no, this post is not brought to you by the letter S.

 Seems like my birthday is extending into a weekend. This morning, after sleeping in until 8 o'clock and , having my toast and coffee, Howard decided we should go to Steveston. Of course l agreed, as Steveston is a lot closer to the sea than we are. It's also the place where the Fraser River, the setting for a lot of our picnics, reaches the Pacific Ocean, so we can smell the salt water and hop over driftwood. Well, truthfully, I can't hop over driftwood any more, but my trusty husband always has a helping hand.

Of course, first stop was the boardwalk for him, and a thrift store for me. There are two thrift stores in the village, but only one was open this early - so obviously, l went to that one, and headed straight for the record section. I found a few that to buy - until I saw the price stickers on them. $15? $20? 

Nope  Glen Campbell and The Poppy Family can just stay where they’re at. (Actually, The Poppy Family one, I believe, was $6. Even so.)

You (meaning I) certainly don’t expect these prices at a thrift store. But when you see drinking glasses on the way out stickered at $10, you realize you don’t fit into their desired clientele.

So, my empty hands and I walked to the pier, where I knew my hubby was waiting and wondering how much longer I would be.

And there he was. On the way back to the car he told me stuff about just every boat at the wharf and the marina, while my mind couldn’t get over $20 records at a thrift store.

Anyway, we hopped in the car and drove to Gary Point Park (or is it Garry? Choose one.) 

We walked along the path for a while (until I realized we’d have to walk back, but not before I grabbed this memory to take home. Beautiful little sunflowers  

As always, he doesn’t like waiting while I snap a few pics. (And anyone who knows this park well, will know this picture was taken as we were walking towards the sunflowers, and not back. Even though I’m not rhyming, we'll still call it poetic license.)

The water was so beautiful, with the sun sending sparkles over it.

And the patterns left in the sand by the moving waves were incredible, too. Nobody human would have the patience to create this!

But by now, there was more on our minds than where our feet went as we were getting hungry, so we headed over to the concession for fish and chips. Because what else are you going to eat at the beach? Certainly not spaghetti, even if it was on their menu.

Yummy.

Another little stroll by the beach, watching a little water-loving pup trying to eat the waves. So cute. 

And that was that. But I’ll leave you with some sweet wave music. 

September 8 - Yup, made it through another year, and still standing (most of the time.)

 

So here I am, another year around the sun, and as you can see (if you keep on reading,) my life hasn’t changed drastically sine 2011, except for the fact that now it would probably take me a week to accomplish everything I did back then in one day. 

But I did have a good day. I found one Gordon Lightfoot and 3 Neil Diamond records at Value Village, and a dozen donuts at Krispy Keene, but of course I didn’t eat them all myself. They do tend to evaporate when I take them home.

I did do a little laundry - remember the coffee fiasco from yesterday? - and I did do a few dishes, but that’s about it.

Neil and Sarah came by, took Howard and me out to dinner, then came back to the house for  a visit, so it was a really nice evening.

And I got some presents! And lots of birthday wishes! 

And checking my ‘archives’ I found this birthday post from 2011, when I obviously had a lot more energy and could still turn yarn into something cool - in this case, a Christmas stocking for a 7 month old Dom. (By the way, he’s just started grade 7.)

...........................................

September 8, 2011

For those of you who wished me a great getting-spoiled birthday, I thought I'd just keep a running list here of things I did today. Then you can decide.

• Liked the fact that Howard's first words to me this morning were "Happy Birthday." Disliked the fact they were spoken at 4am
• Had breakfast
• Knitted some stocking
• Washed a few dishes, wiped a few counters, same old same old
• Loved Gabriel, Arianna and Kayla's Happy Birthday photo
• Watched an episode of The Sopranos, screw Shaw Bloody Digital Cable, I downloaded the complete series
• Checked a few boxes from the crawl space -Nikkie, I found all your cookie jars, you'd better start baking
• Listened to Paul Simon's Graceland - best of the best
• Got rid of two craigslisted boxes of books 
• Emptied two bookcases and dragged them (or chased them) downstairs
• Found tight shoes that fit now - I would never had thought I had fat feet - well, I guess I don't any more
• Grazing all morning
• Loved Clayton and Tanner's Happy Birthday song on the telephone
• Really enjoyed fb greetings from friends and family near and far
• Peed - more than once
• Watched another episode of The Sopranos. My, I do have quite the life, don't I?
• Knitted some more Christmas Stocking. Got the reindeer face all messed up, so also unknitted some Christmas stocking. 
• Unhooked one VCR that wouldn't pick up any channels past 12 and hooked up one that would, so now at least if I know I would miss something on channel  28 I can tape it. Yes, I know I'm behind the times - now I am going to just stick George Jones in my 8 track player and wash my bobby socks...
• Neil, Shannon, Tanner and Dom just visited for a couple of hours - took home another load of  "stuff."
• Gonna have some pancakes for lunch - it's my birthday and I'll eat carbs if I want to (plus sugar and fat - my shoes probably won't fit tomorrow)
• Shoot, Howard will be home in half an hour - my nap just flew out the window. Rats. 
• Doing absolutely nothing
• Loved talking to my lovely sister via telephone, and sorry I missed my lovely sister-in-law's call
• HOWARD TOOK ME OUT TO DINNER - and I had a Birthday Bounty Bar for dessert. Aren't I the lucky one? 
• Now I'm totally immersed in Coronation Street - happy happy day!

September 7 - I actually could take a bottom of my foot picture, just not one that was good enough to show the extent of my latest mishap.

 I know it’s quite early, but I have decided to go to bed a lot earlier tonight, to prevent the proverbial Things Happen In Threes. 

The first was really the newest Mrs Vokey’s fault, as I felt the need to explain to her how yesterday’s fisherman killed his salmon by punching it several times; the poor fish was flipping and flopping around so much, I guess it impeded his aim. I hope at least two of the punches missed and landed on the dock. However, I was sitting in the rocking chair (being an old granny-type figure (with an old granny-type figure)), holding a mug of coffee on my lap, when I brought one fisted hand up in the air, to show her exactly what he was doing and brought it down BAM on my lap. Needless to say, I ended up wearing the coffee instead of drinking it, and I can imagine that Nikkie was glad my story-telling was over. 

The next couple of hours were uneventful , as I spent them thinking about all the things I could be doing, instead of actually doing them. Then Howard wanted to go out for lunch so we ended up at his favourite spot ( and my least) and shared a Cheddar Beefsteak Charlie’s Sub sandwich. And since the food court is right beside a dollar store, I dropped in and bought a few more plastic containers, as I have developed a love of putting things in said containers. 

Then home. Still uneventful, but draining on my low stamina levels, so after some Calcium and Vitamin Ds to keep my Rheumatologist happy - she actually had her assistant phone me a few weeks ago to make sure I was taking my Vitamin D - I got in a bit of relaxation with Keeping Up Appearances, on Britbox. 

Then downstairs, as I promised to make Sharon’s Waikiki Meatballs for supper, once again. But it certainly wasn’t part of my plan to step on the mat in front of the kitchen sink and catch a wasp between my second and third toes. And even though I freaked out trying to dislodge that little (I have to partly say it) f&@$@er from my foot, killing it along the way, I know for a fact I didn’t inflict nearly as much pain in it, as it did on me. Because here I am, more than six hours later, with a double dose of T1s inside me, with the whole toe end of my foot feeling  like it was attacked by a blender.

Oh well. At least it’s an excuse to not do much else, as it’s really painful to walk on. In fact, I can’t. I have to walk on the side of my foot, and that’s not particularly fun when my balance is still a bit off. 

So, that’s why I’m going to bed early  

September 6 - Another picnic, all mixed up with Murphy’s Law.

 Be careful what you wish for. Last evening, as the light was leaving, we were sitting on the back deck swing (as opposed to no other swing) and I asked Howard if he would take me to some water tomorrow (that’s today.)

I’m not fussy, I said. River or lake. 

But I didn’t realize it wasn’t going to be summer again today. In fact, my hopes were high enough that I put Downy in the rinse cycle when I did laundry, as I planned on hanging it out on the line.  Of course, that’s when it started to sprinkle. Just a little. 

But he came in from the Man Shed anyway, and asked if I was making sandwiches, so of course I said yes. The little sprinkles didn’t last anyway. 

But when he packed our picnic in his backpack and wondered where his umbrella was, I started to have misgivings. 

One thing about Howard, he doesn’t want to tell me where we’re going, but I knew when he headed down 96 Avenue and turned onto King George Boulevard, we were going to the fishing pier, and the river. It is really nice there, kind of quiet if you zone out the semis pulling lumber from the warehouses on the other side of the railway tracks. 

And we go caught at that railroad track. There was a car ahead of us when the bells started to ring, the stick thing dropped with lights flashing - and the car ahead just zipped around the bar and zigzagged through the one on the other side just seconds (it seemed) before the train tumbled past. 

This part is only ~40 seconds. We were only stopped about 15 minutes, a couple of which was the train just standing still, laughing at us. 

Howard counted 154 cars and I have no reason to doubt that. I do have more video but it’s pretty much the same as the one above. See one, seen ‘em all, they say. Whoever ‘they’ are. 

Anyway, we finally got past, and to our surprise the parking lot at the pier was packed. And more to our surprise, so was the pier. 

So our lovely little picnic spot was overrun with fishing people. And I couldn’t complain as it is, after all, a fishing pier. We went across the beginning of the bridge down, but no farther. I didn’t want to get a fishhook in my head. 

As we were watching, one of the fellows caught a salmon, which was okay, even fish can have a bad day, but watching that jerk punch the fish to death with his fist wasn’t a heart-warming moment. 

The next one that got caught was really small, and we watched the guy take it to the edge, I assumed to toss it back and give it another chance to grow, but no , he just gutted it right there. It would be a two-bite fish. 

So we just went back to the parking lot, where there were a few benches overlooking the river.

After choosing the one with the least amount of cigarette butts and trash, we sat and had our picnic.

 I was munching on some grapes that were in a container between Howard and me, when he asked me why there was a cigarette butt in with the grapes. Honest to God, I hadn’t a clue, but yes, all of a sudden, between grapes, a

butt appeared. 

That was picnic enough for me, so we packed up and headed to the car, throwing the grapes and cigarette butt in the trash can on the way. 

However - it didn’t rain after all, so that was good. And by the time we got home, the laundry was all nice, warm and dry, which was also good. 

September 5 - School days - the best years of your life, especially when you’re the person behind the teacher’s desk.

 I can’t believe how summer seems to have left already, and we’re into those glorious warm days and cool nights that we used to call something that we probably shouldn’t say any more. At least I hope the hot summer days are over, as Howard un-installed the a/c in our bedroom a couple of days ago. 

The kids checked in at their respective schools today, and I must admit, I felt a pang of jealousy. I remember spending all of August longing for September, bugging Mr Ern Fowlow, the janitor, to get my classroom ready first as I needed (wanted) to get in there and start planning for the new year. 

He’s probably glad I left. I was the teacher who brought a couple of gerbils for classroom pets, and they were little escape artists. I don’t know many mornings he informed me of an escape - and his recovery of them. If I remember correctly it involved a towel. 

And of course, there was the plant growing out of our classroom sink. That wasn’t entirely my fault, though, as anyone could have been responsible for an apple seed getting caught in the drain - and how the heck could that have happened anyway? (Looking back, maybe there was other stuff down there too. Maybe soil? We had a worm farm, too, and these little red wrigglers pooped out the perfect soil.)

Oh well, doesn’t matter now. And it all ended well, as Mr Rideout (grade 5 teacher) ended up planting it in his yard and as far as I know, still has it growing there. 

And we must not forget the jello. I must have made hundreds of jellos in clear plastic cups to sell at recess, raising money for our St John’s trip. I imagine a bit of it ended up on someone’s carpet along the way. 

But I digress. I’m sure Mr Fowlow breathed a sigh of relief when I left, but I never heard him complain once. So, a very belated Sorry,  and Thanks for everything.

Even now, being not 70 in a few days, and feeling old and tired and achy, I wish I had all that back again. 

I know. I’m crazy.

September 4 - Always get a bit maudlin this time of year - I think it’s because I’m used to new beginnings in September.

 A piece I scribbled in the early 2000s - Autumn is a season which I truly miss being ‘back home,’ but after 29 years, BC is now my home. There’s so much of it I’ve yet to explore though!

MY TRINITY HOME

I live in a city. The house we rent holds all my treasures, but I don't always feel safe inside the four walls. Last night, some speed freak broke into our car and stole the digital camera that holds the images of our beautiful grandchildren and the memories of our weekends. This morning, I hear on the news that another shooting took the life of another mother's son, and even though the sun is shining and the music on the radio is upbeat, by heart is low and I miss my Newfoundland home.

 On my desk sits a Mason jar filled with pieces of clay pipes, treasures I gathered from the beaches that edge a little town called Trinity, on the east coast of Newfoundland. I wasn't born there, and I didn't move there until I was 19 years old, but it is my home. 

 Here, in a town seeped in history, I settled with my husband and raised my children. They were happy to be outport kids, to explore the hills and the beaches. They climbed on trees, not monkey bars. they skated on frozen ponds, not indoors in circles following the same music as everyone else.

There were dangers, of course. Springtime brought ice break-up, and 'ice pans' would pack the harbour. These were smaller pieces of ice floating together, almost like a jigsaw puzzle, always tempting to a child. Jump on one, jump to the next - oh,oh, this one's sinking, quick, to the next one - and so it would go, and boys would come home with wet feet to receive a good 'tongue banging' from whichever parent caught him sneaking in from 'copying pans.'

(Note: this is NOT one of my boys. They would never do this. They always had a good explanation of why their feet were wet when they came home on an early spring day.

My favourite season was Autumn, with the beauty of late September and early October, sunny and fresh and filled with colour. I loved berry picking on the barrens then, so peaceful, with no world sounds or people sounds, only a berry-picking buddy (for protection from bears and fairies), and the plop of berries in the bucket.

 As I walked along the beaches of my town, I picked my treasures. Broken pieces of clay pipes, stems and bowls, carried in with the waves and hidden among the seaweed and pebbles, found a home in my Mason jar. I would imagine the men of the village standing there a hundred years ago, chatting about the weather or the catch, smoking their pipes, and throwing them in the water when they were all worn out.

 Hundreds of speeding vehicles keep the road in front of our house smooth, and the blare of horns and sirens often fill the air. But when I look at the jar on my desk, I remember the roll of the waves on the beach, and I feel how they tickled my feet. I hear the sigh of the tides, and the cry of the seagulls, and I realize that home, like all good memories, is only a thought away.

September 3 - No frost on the pumpkin yet, but I do have a sweater on standby.

 I think summer has officially packed her bags and has moved on, and that’s fine with me.

To celebrate, I put an extra bedspread on our bed, even though I will probably shove it on the floor sometime during the night.

An extra bedspread, you may ask. ‘Why not a blanket?’

Well, I don’t have a blanket. I have a lightweight bedspread, and got tired of looking at the same pattern day after day (night after night), so bought another lightweight bedspread. So it works this way - one in summer, two in winter.  Although it’s still actually summer, and hopefully winter is a long long time away. 

Anyway, I was looking through my ‘archives’ this afternoon, on a break from a cleaning frenzy, and found this relevant post from 2012, relevant because we had raccoon visitors back then and also now.

By the way, that cute raccoon that used to drop by and nibble a few of MY grapes obviously brought his family (extended) one night and got the whole damn lot. We’ll, they did leave the scattered two or three on some bunches, but I wasn’t comfortable eating grapes that were probably sat on by a raccoon. I’m fussy that way.

JUNE 26, 2012

Should I Get My Ears Checked? and Masked Bandit

I had one of these boring Do Nothing Much days, and accomplished very little. Therefore, I have nothing of significance to write about (which is why I'm using big words.) Chris and Lizzie hung out with us for a while, and part of our Dinner conversation was astounding.

Me: Come on, now, eat your dinner. After all, Nanny is the best cook in all the world - right, Poppy?

Poppy: Right. 

Although it wasn't said with conviction, at least it was said. Well, knock me over with a feather.

Scratch my comment about a boring day. I just realized I have to stop feeding two stray cats that come snooping at my back door, for I just had a really heart-bopping experience. I had my door open so Blackie the Cat could come in, and what should come to the door instead but a bloody big Raccoon. Yes, and my phone camera could only capture the darkness, so I don't have proof. But this guy just stood there looking in, and didn't even run away when I shooed him away. I went out ... he walked a few feet away, then started back casually. I even threw a plastic bowl at him and I swore he said Thanks under his breath. I was freaking out, he just meandered through a hole in the fence, and then the garden rake and I had a panicky search for Blackie . Teaser (yes, I finally named my Used Cat) was already in, and when I found Blackie I grabbed him and we weren't long getting inside and locking the door behind us. There was a point when Teaser and the Raccoon were nose to nose at opposite sides of the glass door, Teaser growling and Raccoon just staring.

Actually, looking back on my experience, Raccoon was rather cute. Maybe I should put some food out for him ..... NOT!

September 2 - Roll out the easy, breezy, freezy days of autumn - the days of baking, hot chocolate, and stew...

 I wrote the following poem on one of my working days, when I had to leave really, really, really early in the morning for a one hour and twenty minute commute to work, and reverse that commute in the really, really, really late afternoon  

At 6am it’s 2 degrees

At 6pm, nineteen

So, go to work in winter coat,

Come home in shorts and T.

Don’t get me wrong, the sunshine

Will always make me happy,

But such a change in temperature 

Is really, really crappy. 

So, some things have changed over the years, such as the heat. We used to get a few days, maybe 3 or 4, in early August, mostly, when the temperature would rise to 30 degrees, give or take a few. We’d swelter and complain, as our store only had one set of doors, and big windows that didn’t open but just increased the inside temperature, turning the store into an oven, and no a/c. Customers would step inside, and turn around to get away from the heat. No lie. 

But now? Lots of 30 degree summer days. So I have to admit that kind of sunshine doesn’t make me quite as happy any more. 

I do however, love the upcoming season, blue skies, warm days and cool nights. I know it’s still a bit early to say goodbye to summer, but she has become a mildly unwanted guest!

September 1 - Summer’s on the way out, but it was still 32 in our backyard this afternoon, even though it was only 24 in the front. Go figure.

 This isn’t what happened on this day many years ago, but about something we did on a hot summer day from long long ago, when I actually drove.  

Right now I don’t drive, although I do believe I may have to start again, to be the person that frustrates Howard and Steve when they are behind the wheel, because Howard is becoming more uncomfortable driving, and I still hate transit. 

……

Alice Lake

On a hot lazy summer day last August, when everyone had a day off work (a very rare happening,) our whole family headed up to Alice Lake for an afternoon of picnic, fresh air and water fun. Now since Howard doesn't like to drive, and I don't like to drive, and I fear driving over bridges, and there were enough tall and short people to fill up three cars, of course I ended up driving, but only on the premise that I would drive behind one son and in front of the other. That way, if I took a wrong turn by ending up in the wrong lane, one would notice, and if I followed the other, hopefully there would be no wrong turns involved at all, and we would eventually get to our destination.

Driving through strange city streets isn't my favourite thing, so instead of taking in all my surroundings, I leaned forward in my seat, back ramrod straight, grabbing the steering wheel with shaking fists and never blinking, not even once. Not admiring the comfortable way Neil drove, zipping down busy streets and weaving in and out of traffic, but trusting Steve, who was behind me, to make sure he stayed glued to my rear end to prevent other cars from getting in the way when I changed lanes to zigzag the shadow left by Neil

.We finally left the city streets behind, and hit the open highway, heading north to Squamish and then to the Provincial Park at Alice Lake. Traffic thinned out, thankfully, but what traffic there was seemed to be flying by at amazing speed. Even Neil was going like a bat out of hell.

"Jeez, I'm going almost 90, what's wrong with everyone! I can't keep up with Neil!"

Howard said, "Well, the speed limit is 100, you know."

"Oh."

"Crap!" I exploded as another car zipped around and positioned itself between Neil and me.

"If I were driving, no one would get between us," Howard commented. For about the eighteenth time.

Sometimes we get heartburn from swallowing words instead of bacon, and I had to still the urge to drive off a very steep and inviting cliff. After all, my kids were watching.

And then the scenery hit, and the amazing panoramas of this beautiful land brought out the conversation between the two of us.

"Oh wow, look at that..." The mountains growing to the sky beside us, the water splashing blue and white below us, the houses like Lego blocks grabbing the hillside as it tumbled to the sea.

"Watch the road!"

"Oooooooh, look at that, I've never seen the ocean that colour! And it's the perfect mirror of the sky!

"Keep the damn car off the shoulder!"

"That must be the Chief. That's the mountain Neil used to climb, I bet it is. Wow. It's pretty high..."

"Jesus, keep the bloody car in your own lane, why don't you?"

And so on....

If I weren't driving, I would probably have yanked the gear stick out and hit him over the head with it, but I just shut up and kept all the glory surrounding us to myself, until we finally turned into the gravel parking lot and I removed my shaking limbs and love of nature from the frigid atmosphere of our car.

Alice Lake is glorious - water mirroring the sky, a tree-lined setting, snuggled between green mountains, a perfect place to spend time on a hot summer day. 

Tanner turned into a water bug, and spent most of the time bobbing on the waves with his mommy and daddy, and Lizzie was enthralled with filling both her bucket and her diaper up with sand from the beach. Chris's preference was being chased up and down the beach by his poor old nanny, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to haul his droopy wet shorts up, as they were sagging down to his knees.

Sun-burned and tired, full of egg sandwiches, chips and pop, we packed up and drove back home in the late afternoon. Howard drove home with Steve, Chris and Lizzie, and Nikkie drove home with me - a much more relaxed journey than the one that took us to the lake.