Eclipsed?

Earlier this morning I headed outside, hoping to get a glimpse of the partial eclipse that was supposed to be visible here. 

But instead of a view of the sun, I was greeted by clouds. 

Still, because I know how quickly our weather can change (yes, it can be an all-weathers-in-a-day kind of place), I poked around in the garden a bit, waiting in case the clouds might blow past.  

Luckily I knew where my special eclipse-viewing glasses were--the same pair from when I'd watched

the total eclipse in 2017. When I put them on, I thought they must have gone 'bad' from being so old, as I couldn't see anything through them. But I guess that's exactly how dark they're supposed to be, as a few minutes later when the sky cleared a bit, there it was--a partially occluded sun!

I didn't want to fry the light-sensing unit in my faithful little camera, so I refrained from trying to shoot with it. As a result, all I can do is tell you what I saw: in essence, a 'crescent sun' with the 'C' of its shape pointing downward, the black circle of the moon beneath. But here's a link to a news story about the event as it took place on the south end of Vancouver Island, not so far from here as the proverbial crow flies. It contains a few amazing images, which may help satisfy your craving for a glimpse of what I got to see today. 

Traditional

How lucky--to be invited for a Thanksgiving dinner--one I didn't have to make! About the only thing I needed to do was go along to the local store in search of a roasting pan that would be big enough to accommodate this beautiful bird, as the one in the cupboard was too small. 

After its ride in the oven while the rest of us went out to a local park for a stroll, the golden bird was ready for sharing. 

As we sat down with our meal, we remembered a dear one who had made turkey dinners for all of us in the past. And in honour of her, we were lucky enough to be feasting on food that came from some of her recipes. 

A feast to be thankful for, complete with all the trimmings. 

 

Ten-four plus two

Sometimes, my brain gets distracted by internal number games. Probably that's one of the reasons I like playing Sudoku. 

But the other night as I was falling asleep, it struck me that the day's date, October 4th, 'translated' as 'ten-four,' a phrase I've heard on too many cop shows (think: the classic Highway Patrol for one).

So yesterday (10/5), I thought I'd start poking around to check out the meaning of ten-four. And sure enough, it not only translates as 'okay' or 'all right' it turned up as an answer to a clue in that day's New York Times Crossword, another of my almost-daily addictions. There it was, 31-across: "Understood" and indeed, the answer, strung across seven blank squares required filling in T-E-N-F-O-U-R. Which means that I got at least one of their brain-teaser clues answered correctly. 

I took that as confirmation that I needed to look up what ten-four really meant, and found (who knew) that there's a whole list of 'ten-' codes with today's date (10/6) meaning as 'busy' (which it was). 

A further trip down the rabbit hole of the Internet informed me that October 4th is indeed ten-four day, and a special day for saluting radio operators, though I'm not sure how many of those there are anymore. 

I figured before I tried figuring out codes for the whole month, this would be a good way to end the week--especially where this is the long weekend when we celebrate Thanksgiving. I know that I have much to be thankful for, in particular, the bounty of this season's harvest. I certainly hope that you have much to be grateful for too. And to that, for now, I can only say 'ten-four'. 

Nearing the speed of light

All right. I admit to an exaggeration, but...I can't believe how this month has flown past. 

Sure, there's been plenty going on to keep me busy--from Word Vancouver to last weekend's BC and Yukon Book Awards Ceremony. 

Quite a few of the Word events are still available online, and many are worth tracking down. 

As for the book awards, the ceremony isn't online, but at least the results are posted. 

And yes, quite a bit of the month was spent looking after that kitty I wrote about last time. 

Technically, the season changed officially last weekend. And technically, this morning was the official time of the full moon. Still, I'm sure it will be just as big and beautiful tonight as it was yesterday evening. 

Today was another of the cleaning-up-the-yard-for-autumn days, with a substantial amount of debris from the blackberry hedge making it into the green bin for next week's collection. Both hibiscus trees are now indoors, and the outdoor cushions have been stored away, but there's plenty more to do to get things set for the winter. Still, it'll happen. It always does. All in good time, and definitely slower than the speed of light. 

The tale of a tail and more

Earlier this month, I spent some time cat-sitting--not something I do very often, as I have allergies, but...This kitty is special. Her name is Miss Molly. 

It didn't take many days for her to train me to understand her needs, including when to brush her, pet her, go outside with her, and of course, dole out the snacks. 

She'd sit near me and give me 'the look' which fortunately, I learned to understand. Standing by the kitchen door was the easiest, as it meant she wanted me to grab my book and for the two of us to go out to sit on the deck on the puffy-cushioned chairs. 

When my tour of duty was nearing its end, I was packing my things and had left the bag for my rainboots and extra shoes on the floor. 

Since pretty well all paper bags are fair game for kitties to climb into, that's exactly what she did. 

But little did I know that she'd curled up inside. So when I went to pick up the bag, it was much heavier than I'd expected it to be. Then slink, out she came, clearly not happy that I'd disturbed the place she'd chosen for a nap. 

I'm hoping that particular experience didn't sour our relationship too much, as I'm planning to go back there in October. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what she decides, whether I will remain worthy of her friendship or not. 

Foraged

While I am very grateful that I don't have to rely on my foraging skills to eat, it's certainly an activity that I enjoy.

As the various fruits have ripened over the summer, I've been picking and packing those away as wintry treats. So far, four kinds of berries (strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries) are either in the freezer or stored as jars of jam. As for apples and pears, I've been freezing or canning them, and may still dry a few. Some of these treats will fill gift bags at Christmas. Others will be hand to enjoy with toast or yogourt. Frozen ones will serve as filling in crisps or pies. 

It's not time yet to go out seeking mushrooms, especially where we're still experiencing drought conditions--once practically unheard of here in Canada's rainforest province. Those need the kiss of moisture to bring their fruiting bodies to the surface of the woodlands. 

So yesterday saw me exploring the rocky shoreline for seaweeds. I suppose because I'm somewhat adventurous, I enjoy adding these to soups or stir-fry dishes. As the tide receded, there were so many different kinds to gather. Our province is home to a huge variety from giant bull kelp, some of which are now endangered as are so many species on our fragile planet.  

When it comes to preserving them, drying seems to work best, and they reconstitute quickly when they hit the hot broth. They'll be an interesting taste treat in the coming months--and in addition, a nice boost of vitamins and minerals, including iodine. 

Like I said, I am fortunate to not have to rely on what I forage, but it's something I will probably always like doing.

Just peachy

Poking around for information about peaches, I found that there's a state in the US that claims it as their state symbol. But gosh, wouldn't you know that it would have to be Georgia, the state that's making more than its share of news these days. 

I'd rather not hear or see more about he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned. 

Instead, I'm looking forward to being able to pick and eat one of these glowing orbs from the brave little peach tree in our back yard as it's spent the summer surviving extended drought and now, smoky air. 

Nonetheless, I'm counting on it tasting as explosively delicious as its companions have in previous years--one of the highlight treats of summer! 

Are people getting stupider?

I'm not sure, but it seems to me that some folks indeed are getting stupider. And I have a few reasons for thinking this--not all of them completely stupid. 

My number one reason is the number of folks in the US who continue to believe that he-who-shall-not-be-named is a truth-teller and, as such, is worthy of being able to run (and be elected) as the next president of the US. 

Another reason comes from watching today's news where California is being drenched by rains from Hurricane Hilary (only one L there, so no politicizing, please). As a result many roads have been closed now that waters are rushing over them, temporary rivers.

But hey--what's that I saw a little while ago on CNN??  Yep, folks driving past the 'road closed' signs as if they were mere decorations. Stupid. And I suppose if their car gets wrecked, they'll be looking for compensation from their insurance provider. 

The reason I even thought about this in the first place was a message on a box of cereal in our pantry. Look closely (you can double-click on the pic to enlarge it) at the box of Vector and you'll actually find 'directions for use' offering instructions for how much cereal to put into your bowl as well as how much milk (skimmed--oops, I use 1%) to add. To think, for all these years, I've probably been doing it wrong. Duh!!

The weeds shall inherit the Earth

It's been about the driest summer I can recall. There was maybe one brief rain shower in July, and not much more this month--at least not yet. So most of the lawns in our neighbourhood are golden brown. 

Only, not all of them. 

It amazes me, but there are actually people who live nearby who have artificial turf instead of lawn. I suppose it's easy to have a lawn that never needs cutting, but...

I'll avoid going into my objections over such artifice even though they make up a longish list of gripes. The day is too beautiful to be indoors typing, so I am going to go back outside. 

But I must say that there's something quite agreeable about seeing such a tangle of invasive morning glory (bindweed) as well as some other sprawling weed exerting themselves across their would-be finery. 

A new chapter

After a weekend spent on more than one ferry, the Big Move is now complete. Whew!

It wasn't us, but my son and his partner, gone to Vancouver Island to a very comfy house. It's much bigger than their old one, with space for a decent office for each of them. And oh, the storage shelves and cupboards and closets and drawers -- Wow!

There's also an amazing garden there, with raised beds looking ready for next year's plantings, along with an apple tree, a plum tree, and a nicely established bed of raspberry canes. 

Even in winter the garden will look amazing, as there's holly and all kinds of small evergreens. But the most fun part is all the birdhouses and small statues interspersed amongst the greenery. One of them is this Buddha, who's clearly happy to have them near. 

Now I guess we're just going to have to get accustomed to more rides on BC Ferries. 

So much depends...

Oh, just look at all that shiny stuff -- right down to the gold-striped serviettes. Shiny or what. 

Those items were accessories at the buffet meal served yesterday at the 'celebration of life' held for a dear friend. I'm not sure she would have liked that much plastic, especially where it looked like it might not be recyclable. Still, it certainly made the table very pretty, and I know that intentions were good. 

The food was quite amazing, with everything from several kinds of salmon -- delicate smoked lox, even chunks of candied salmon. And just about every kind of fruit you could think of, especially the summer treats like melons and berries. 

But for me, even more amazing were the memories people shared. It felt like all of us in the room were part of some overgrown aging family. 

And most amazing of all was one of the speeches, clearly the best-prepared of any that were presented. 

This friend used the analogy of the humble wheelbarrow to illustrate the many wonderful traits of our recently-gone friend. The wheelbarrow, overall, was such an apt metaphor for our friend as she was an avid gardener who never let the chance to enlist guests in work parties pass her by. But on, to the wheelbarrow, on which we know 'so much depends'. 

The legs, left and right, stood for the two sides of her brain -- logic and organizational skills on the right, balanced by the freedom-loving creative side on the left (which was also pointed out as being the departed's political leanings). 

The wheel with its ever-forward, onward direction reminded us of our friend's penchant for travelling the globe, sometimes even on the wheels of a bicycle. 

And yes, William Carlos Williams told it so beautifully all those years ago with his spare little poem about the wheelbarrow. 

Shiny plastic cutlery or not, I am sure our friend must have looked down on all of us and smiled. 

Midsummerish

Although many countries actually celebrate a festival they call Midsummer -- and do so long before mid-July -- I'm stuck in my ways enough that I think of Midsummer as the middle of this month. 

The term 'midsummer' apparently refers to the mid-point of the growing season, the halfway mark between planting and harvest. 

For those of us here in Canada, school isn't even over when those other countries celebrate. Here, the kids have only been free for just over two weeks. And often, it's only mid-month when the rains of 'June-u-ary' finally stop. 

This year's been different, with nary a drop of rain since back in June. Everything is dry dry dry, with high fire hazards and campfire bans province-wide. 

Lucky us, to be invited for our annual visit to a dear friend's cottage on the lake. 

The temps may have been warm, but going out for a paddle in the canoe (barest tip showing lower right) is a pleasure that's hard to beat. 

Numero Uno

Well, sheesh. I thought I'd taken a great photo of the very first blackberry of the season. Only now that I look at it, I see that it's fuzzy. 

Still it's the only documentation I have of the real thing -- the first. 

Maybe it's been affected by the smoke that hung in the skies last week?

Maybe that cataract in my right eye is spreading its fuzziness?

Maybe I'll just have to wait for more berries to ripen and then take a better photo of the bounty of summer. 

Maybe. 

P.S. The berry didn't taste at all fuzzy. Still warm from the sun, it was sweet and delicious. 

Delicate

I guess the lazy days of summer must be upon me. Here it is, already July 4th, and I'm only now doing a post for Canada Day, July 1st. 

When I first stepped outside on July 1st, that delicate red poppy was the first thing that caught my eye. I'm just glad I had the sense to grab my camera, as by the next morning, the blossom was already gone. 

For all I know, this may have been one of the last times we, as a country, even observe Canada Day. The more we learn about colonialism, it's an issue we need to consider. 

We can't forget that the day itself was known for many years as Dominion Day. The very word says it all. I suppose it was a small step to at least change the name.

About all I can do is keep an open mind and keep learning. And of course, I can keep appreciating all the delicate beauty I see around me. 

Springin' into summer

It's hard to tell, but summer arrived this morning--officially, as today marks Solstice. The temp is still coolish, but not quite as "June-uaryish" as it's been the last while. So maybe it will even feel like summer soon.

The birds who'd built their nest inside the little lantern have even headed off for summery skies. We'd worried that the babies might not be able to fly high enough to get out of the enclosure, but presto--they did it!

We could see that the parents were getting tired of all the feeding (and yes, when it came to feeding time, there were two parent-birds, the father was no deadbeat dad at all), as towards the end they'd just sit at the top of the lantern and drop the bits of food down into the nestlings. 

Best news of all is that they did a lovely job of spring-cleaning the nest. 

Must admit I'm kind of hoping they'll come back next year. 

Rescue 6-13

It was just one of those lucky flukes -- a matter of being in the right place at the right time. 

One of the many local construction sites, where a bundle of bamboo was being dredged out by its roots...when that dear man I know spotted it and asked if he could have it. 

Turns out that wasn't a problem. In fact the person taking it out helped pack it into the car, even gave us a bungee to help anchor it there. 

It must have looked like a forest parade, as we carefully went home, flashers indicating how slowly we needed to go. As for back-up accompaniment, it was the lovely sound of bamboo leaves swishing against the surface of the road. 

Once home it was a matter of fetching the old bathtub we'd rescued a couple of years back, always with the thought of having it become a home for another bunch of bamboo. 

A bit of a chop to the edge of the deck and the tub slid right into place. 

Some teamwork, and voila -- a new 'mini-forest' of bamboo for us. 

Privacy and all those lovely sounds...

Tiny homes--not just for the birds

When we came home from our holiday travels, we discovered that we had a new 'tenant' in our gazebo. An ambitious little bird had built a nest in a hanging lantern. It's a lantern made for a candle, and since no candle was in there, the bird must have decided on claiming squatter's rights. 

Close examination (during one of those spells when the mother bird is out) revealed four eggs.

It's a very blurry shot as the angle for shooting was awkward to say the least. Still, small proof of my claim at least exists. 

I'm a little concerned about how the tiny hatchlings (when/if they come) will fly up to the top of their 'house' to go out into the big world. One more lesson to watch for...

This tiny house served as a reminder of how many people across the world are in need of housing. There's a wonderful sounding project going on in Kitchener-Waterloo which offers me a bit of hope that maybe we're not such an awful species as it sometimes seems. 

Looking forward to more such set-ups across the country and near at hand. 

Beachside travels

Well, we've been back for a couple of days, and I reckon I'm still in holiday mode. It was just a two-week getaway, but my favourite kind of treat as most of those days were ones without Internet. Sure, I missed some news, and was late getting a number of emails, but the world didn't fall apart just because I chose to step aside. 

And aside it truly was. 

The photo above is from one of the places we 'camped' -- I put that in quotes as we were travelling in our little motorhome, The Rattler. It has pretty much all of the comforts of home: stove, fridge (with freezer for ice cream), even a microwave. 

We wandered through Washington state and stayed at state parks we'd visited before as well as a few new ones which are sure to be part of future itineraries. As for the beach above, it provided a satchel of hand-dug steamer clams, which were way more delicious (it seemed) than any store-bought ones would have been. 

Still catching up on the realities of being home, but overall glad to be back (though the road will no doubt call my name again soon). 

Well-deserved

There are days when it's a treat to get out and see people. Happily, today was one of those, and not just because the sun was shining (though yes, that helps). 

My reason for getting out -- and even into the city -- was a celebration. 

Susan Musgrave was being presented with the George Woodcock Award for a lifetime achievement in the literary arts. The list of her publications was far too long for the presenters to read, though there was an amazing display of the library's copies of her books on a large table at the back of the room. 

Despite the weighty occasion, as always is the case, Musgrave managed to make the audience laugh. She remembered how the award was originally sponsored by the company then known as 'BC Gas' (now Fortis) and how she thought the idea of getting a lifetime award from that outfit didn't sound so great -- 'a lifetime gas award?'

It was great seeing so many friends I hadn't seen these last three long years -- all of us a little greyer, but happy to see each other. 

And I can't end this short post without acknowledging the other author honoured at this event, Alan Twigg. He was presented as this year's winner of the George Ryga Award for Social Awareness in Literature. The award recognizes all that Twigg has done to ensure that writings about the Holocaust are preserved. 

An amazing evening, one where I felt privileged to witness two presentation to two very deserving recipients. 

Art, art, art!

It's been a weekend (and month-end too) filled with art. Yesterday was an afternoon of experience at the Surrey Art Gallery -- from the current exhibit through a writing workshop to an opportunity to do some editing -- and yes, all at the same venue. 

The current show, the work of Victoria's Charles Campbell, is called "An Ocean to Livity." The exhibit is based in breath -- yep, the in-and-out of air that we spend our lives doing. It's complicated to explain, but the visuals were based on (I think) sonograms of breath. Wildly, they 'translated' into a variety of colours and patterns it would have been hard to just make up. 

And then, to the writing workshop which saw us responding to prompts from two wonderful poets, Kevin Spenst and Tolu Oloruntoba. Using their suggestions, we considered each of the lighted art works in the exhibit, and managed to find words spilling out of our brains. And then on to assembling a poem on the spot!

They also provided a series of 'editing' prompts, useful to anyone who thinks about trying to write. 

But the crowning touch was presentation of a how-to on making a mini-chapbook, a skill that Kevin has down to a fine art. Because I first learned how to make these little books from Kevin, I've always referred to them as Kev-bukis. 

But wait, there was yet another opportunity for editing -- this time a session on editing in Wikipedia. This was of special interest to me, not only because 'feminism' was in the workshop's title, but also because when I entered the room where the workshop was taking place, the first screen I saw contained an article about Torrie Groening. Not only did this pique my interest, as she's a Vancouver artist who's shown work in the Surrey Gallery, but I knew I'd be seeing her work on Sunday!

She and her partner Stephen run the Churchland Studio, a featured stop in this year's Capture Photography Festival -- and I'd already made plans to attend the exhibit there. 

Well worth the trek into the city, even with a few dribs of rain on the windscreen, as the photography collection there was simply amazing. And wouldn't you know, in amongst the many art treasures, what would I come across but an accordion book based on small cyanotypes. Wow. A little treasure. And a fitting close to comments on an art-filled weekend as well as the end of this year's National Poetry Month.  

Thinking about our planet on Earth Day

When founders established Earth Day back in 1970, I wonder whether they dreamed the observance would still be going in 2023. I also wonder whether they imagined that this far in the future (53 years later), we'd be no closer to protecting the health of our planet than then. 

Trees keep coming down -- here where I live, it seems faster than ever, with more of them than I can keep count of. And as we learned this week, the promise made by Justin Trudeau in 2021 to plant 2 billion trees by 2030, well, it seems to be just another of those unrealistic pronouncements he's turning out to be so good at making. 

The theme of this year's Earth Day suggests that we 'Invest in Our Planet' and sounds very good, until one stops to think who it is that currently IS investing in the planet, and who needs to START investing more in our Earth. 

I admit it, I'm still driving a gasoline-fueled car, and I've even taken a jet within the past year, so I can't claim to be innocent when it comes to contributing to climate change. I suppose all I can continue to do is bear witness to what I see and hope that those 'ethical investments' in my small investment portfolio are indeed going to some cause or start-up that might be helping to make a difference. 

Although wait -- one more suggestion that I've come across -- an idea that makes great sense and is even labour-saving: get rid of your lawn!

A Seven Year Emergency

Those look, I suppose, like two cases for glasses. Only they aren't. One contains items that may well save a life.

Today marks a grim anniversary here in BC -- one for which there's no celebrating. It's been seven years since the province declared poisonings from toxic drugs as a public health emergency.

I guess I've always thought that an 'emergency' was a situation that had to be dealt with promptly. But I don't find anything prompt about an 'emergency' that is allowed to go on for seven years. 

Once I believed that it took seven years for us to completely change our skin -- that the 'old' skin would slowly be replaced by a fresh new set of cells. I thought seven years seemed like a very long time, and to me at least, it still does. 

To date, over ten thousand people have died. Some accounts reckon the number to be 11,000 -- no one knows for sure, as not all such deaths have any official stated cause. 

Not long ago, a letter to the editor used an example of other mass deaths, plane crashes. Their position was that if over 100 people a month were dying in plane crashes -- and if this had carried on month after month for years -- that the government would have found a way to put a stop to that many 'accidents'. 

While here in BC we at least now have some easing of drug laws, we know that this is not yet enough. 

About our only hope to date has come in the form of Naloxone kits which are distributed free of charge by most pharmacies. If injected in time, this drug can save lives -- or at least buy some time until the paramedics arrive. If you get a kit, here's a video that will show you how to give the injection. 

If you're courageous enough to watch some informative news coverage, here's a link to a story that tells it like it is, and even cites the number of calls paramedics have dealt with at over 200,000. 

The only ones not minding this reality are the dirty dealers and backyard chemists who think it's okay to make and sell poison so they can line their pockets with money. 

All of us can only wish that this is an anniversary that won't need to be repeated, though at the rate change is happening, that's probably a very faint hope. 

The Joys of Celebrating National Poetry Month

The theme for this year's National Poetry Month is Joy, so it's fun to think of the many ways poetry brings joy to people. 

Last week, I was part of a group who spoke as a delegation to Surrey's City Council in celebration of National Poetry Month. The presentation is about twelve minutes long, but in case you'd like to see some or all of it, here's the link to our presentation. 

That stack of poetry books beside my springtime tulips represents some of my favourite recent reads. I'm especially joyous over the fact that Susan Musgrave's latest collection, Exculpatory Lilies is a finalist, on the longlist for this year's Griffin Prize. The shortlist won't be announced until next week, on the 19th, but I certainly have my fingers crossed, as I think it's an amazing book (and apparently, I'm not the only one -- here's a review from CBC Books).

Musgrave's husband Stephen Reid died in 2018. And then, in 2020, their daughter Sophie was gone. 

The poems are some of the bravest I've ever read, as many of them deal directly with the problems both Stephen and Sophie shared. Yet despite the sadness that prevails, Musgrave's wonderful sense of humour shines through like sunlight poking through the branches of a forest. So even in the midst of a book that in many ways is an extended elegy, joy comes our way. 

Find a book of poetry to poke your nose into, and while you're there, seek its joy -- and then, maybe think about finding a way to share it. 

Vindication!

A confession: I have always been a messy person. Despite that, I can generally find what I'm looking for quickly, but to anyone else, that pile on my table probably looks like nothing more than chaos. 

But last weekend, hurrah, the Globe and Mail ran an article (with the beautiful image above on the newspaper's front page) about how such habits aren't really so terrible at all. 

One of the instances author of the article Mark Pupo cites in his defense of clutter is that of the overprotective parent wanting to ensure their child's room is clean clean clean. My dad gave that a try, but clearly, he failed. About the only thing he accomplished was making me cry. 

Recently I've been working on a poem about my messiness, kind of an apology I suppose. It starts with the words, "If Marie Kondo came to my office, she would probably cry."

Only it turns out that even the 'only-keep-items-that-bring-you-joy Marie' has had a turn of heart. What happened? She had kids, and oh gosh, but sometimes kids make a mess. Yeah. 

And in my case, even some of us supposed grown-ups do too. Happy face time. 

A balancing act

Today's the day the Earth does its twice-a-year balancing act. Earlier this afternoon, we experienced the vernal equinox, that special event that marks (for those of us in the Northern hemisphere) the beginning of spring.  

But that isn't the only balance I'm thinking about. For one thing, a number of banks seem a little shaky these days -- even ones in Switzerland, traditionally the most secure (and quiet) banks in the world. It wasn't long ago, though I can't put my finger on where (maybe in a film I saw?) but I heard a line that really resonated: "It suddenly struck them; they couldn't eat money." Which leads me to thoughts about the balance we need when we think about 'developing' farm lands for industrial use. Huh?!

Today also marks the day when China's Xi and Vladimir Putin are meeting in Moscow. It's hard for me to think that much good will come of this. Super-power meets super-power, but it looks more like power-over-others than any kind of balance. 

And the one that faces all of us, today's report from the UN on just how urgently we all need to act to save ourselves from the worst effects of climate change. 

It seems just about the only balance is the one the planet marked today, achieving that perfect angle where day and night are equal. 

As for all those other kinds of balance I keep hoping for, I guess my local graffiti artists say it best: Dream. 

And the winner is...

What's the best thing about a film festival? Besides all those hours spent in the magical darkness of a cinema, maybe the popcorn. 

As a lead-in to this year's Oscars, we went on a road trip to partake in a film festival. (The lengths -- and kilometres -- some people will go to in the name of seeing a bunch of movies!)

Though I must admit that the festival's theme of resilience meant we saw some pretty hard-to-watch and overall depressing films, I don't regret for a minute that we went. 

One of the hardest for me to watch was Decision to Leave mainly because I'd just finished reading a book that was all about police procedures, and here I was stuck in the same loop again. Even tougher was the grindingly sad film set in Ukraine, Klondike, definitely not about the gold rush, but about Russia's 2014 seizure of Crimea. 

The one I appreciated the most was Rebellion, a documentary about the group Extinction Rebellion and their protests in London, England. Powerful stuff about dedicated, courageous folks -- and not without a sense of humour, an element I appreciated. 

By week's end it was time for the Academy Awards, and although I thought too many awards went to a single film (another time, another discussion), it was wonderful to see Canadian director Daniel Roher win for his documentary on one of the heroes of our time, Alexei Navalny. The other moment of special pride was when Sarah Polley won the award for adapted screenplay (from Marion Toews' novel, Women Talking). 

For now, I'll have to be happy seeing what films I can at my local cinema or on TV, and I suppose I can console myself knowing the popcorn's a whole lot cheaper here at home. 

Resilient

I can't help but feel sorry for the brave little bulbs that keep thinking it's supposed to be spring. They rise a few inches, and then they get dumped on. Snow, snow, and more snow. That's the kind of February and (so far) March it's been. Earlier today there were a few flakes, but when they stopped, I dashed out on a few errands. Wherever I went, people asked me (I seem to have that kind of face -- people talk to me) what the weather was doing. Every one of them expressed relief when I said that the snow had stopped. And maybe they just heard the relief in my own voice when I told them. 

Whatever, today is supposed to be the day that we all 'march forth' towards whatever goal or cause we may bear in mind. I like that one of the things we're supposed to do today is to try something new, especially something we've always wanted to do, but haven't got around to trying. 

So, will this be the day I start looking for online lessons so I can learn to play something beyond one-finger 'Mary had a little lamb' on my little electronic keyboard? Or do I need to think about something more exotic, more difficult? Or should I just knuckle down and finish one of my many unfinished projects. 

If resilience is something I can learn from the bulbs out front, it's probably something I can apply to my own daily life. 

As the date suggests, onward!

Hope in the face of horror

As we approach tomorrow's hideous anniversary of Russia's invasion of Ukraine, I am prompted to do something I don't usually do by posting a poem of my own. 

This also happens to be Freedom to Read Week, so I've been thinking about freedom -- as well as loss thereof, the situation now in far too many countries. Journalists and protesters are being executed in Iran; their colleagues in Russia are disappearing or being sent to prison. 

Thankfully, I remain free to write and publish here in Canada. My poem was included in a collection called Poems in Response to Peril. Proceeds of sales of the anthology go to funds in support of Ukraine. And yes, I am hoping for a resolution to the hideous events that continue across the globe.  

Finding hope

This morning I am feeding the birds, replenishing

supplies in the little cracked saucer, the one that’s sheltered

on the window ledge all winter again.

 

I’m filling it with seeds, still tight in their shells,

ones I hope the birds will disperse, carrying them

far and beyond—sunflowers that will rise up

 

from the broken earth. I am putting my faith

in their sturdy resilience, counting on them to grow tall

and turn their golden faces to the sun.

 

Which way from here?

Once again, I am posting about a small celebration -- this time it's a blogiversary, and a fairly big one at that. Seventeen years, an amount of time that boggles my mind. Where all have I been since then? The sign maybe says it. Nowhere, but now here... 

I started writing here as a way of establishing a bit of an online presence. At least that's what the workshop I attended proposed itself as -- starting a blog as an entry point to the world of the Internet. 

Since then, it appears that I've written a post here 1,199 times. So I guess that makes this number 1,200. That's a number that makes me happy, as twelve has always been my favourite number. I even have a poem about it in one of my books. 

Where exactly I go from here (with this, or for that matter, with a number of other possibilities) remains to be seen. I hope that some of you will continue to stick around. 

Sometimes...

...the groundhog gets it wrong. At least that's what I'm hoping must have happened last week on the 2nd when the critter must have seen his shadow in all that sunshine. According to lore, if he sees his shadow, winter is supposed to linger for another six weeks. But I'm saying NO to that. 

Small testament to spring though it may seem, I take heart from seeing the bulbs pushing their bright green heads up through the soil. And I love how they are so forgiving of my bad habits as a gardener, leaving all that stringy debris from last season still there. 

Soon I expect it will be warm enough for me to want to get out there with a clipper and some digging tools, and maybe then it will be prettied up enough for those anticipated flowers to burst into my bloom. 

Once upon a time...and now

It was not so many years ago that the word 'gay' was a synonym for 'happy' or 'carefree' or even 'frivolous' -- as in the 1934 film, The Gay Divorcee. Yet even that title involved some controversy, as it was originally called Gay Divorce, but divorce was then considered too serious a topic (or was deemed so by the notorious Hays Office) to have such a flighty name. Ahem. 

It was only by the 1960s that attitudes were opening up enough that the world we now know as LGBTQ+ would be called 'gay'. 

It seems bizarre to me that there are still places in the world where it is a criminal offense to be gay, that there are still countries where one can be sentenced to death over one's preference of sexual partner. 

So it was with great relief and joy that I saw the announcement from the pope (who's often referred to as 'the rock' upon which the Church is built) relaxing the Catholic Church's longstanding attitude toward gays. Yes, Francis still claims such activity is a sin, but then I suppose his job requires that much as this small step towards sanity. 

And I can't help but think he had to wait for the death of his predecessor, Benedict, to even be able to say what he has, because really, 'saving the world from homosexuality' as equivalent to 'saving the rainforests'? Not on my watch. 

Maybe the good news about the New Lunar Year, with all of its positive predictions really is true. I'm certainly hoping so. 

Another New Year to Celebrate

According to the Vietnamese version of the Lunar calendar, today is the first day of the Year of the Cat. For those of us who have learned to bow to the beliefs entrenched in Chinese culture, today marks the beginning of the Year of the Rabbit.  

And in keeping with the further tradition of combining elements with each animal in the zodiac, this is the year of the water rabbit, which sounds like it might be a good year for growing things. 

The rabbit in the photo is one that used to frequent our front yard, very likely because we're the 'bad' house where the lawn is only rarely cut, in keeping with the natural look of the rest of our yard. 

At least we aren't at the mercy of a Home Owner's Association who might send their patrols out to cut the lawn themselves and then likely hand us a hefty fine. 

I suspect that, come spring and summer, once the grass starts to grow again, the bunnies will be back. After all, this year has their name on it.  

Unofficial kindness

And a small kindness at that. It's an idea that was suggested to me by my friend who makes Christmas cards with me, and who also (like me) loves doing jigsaw puzzles. 

We often lend each other puzzles back and forth and she came up with a suggestion that might sound like 'cheating' to some, but made good sense to both of us. When you take apart a puzzle, bag up the edge pieces separately from the rest. In other words, you're giving the other person the kindness of a head start on completing the puzzle!

It might not yet be the official date to perform our random acts of kindness, but there's nothing wrong with doing such acts any old time.  

Imagine the other side of the world

This is how I'm imagining Orthodox Christmas might look in Ukraine. And yes, today is the day that much of the world, especially people in Eastern Europe, celebrate Christmas. 

The burning candle in the lantern is beautiful, but if I were in Ukraine, it might well be my only light, as so much of the country is without power. 

This is another day to be grateful -- for so many everyday luxuries we mostly take for granted: electricity and speedy Internet, water that's clean enough to drink from the tap -- and while we're at it, water that's hot on demand. 

Looking back, looking ahead

Already the second day of the new year and pokey me -- I'm still looking back. 

It was a year that didn't feel all that productive, especially on a personal level. No new book, though a number of entries in several anthologies. Not much in the way of travel or special events. Yes, there are a few exceptions, but they feel diminished through the lens of looking back. 

But as you can see if you play the video above, the best part about looking back is that it means you're going forward. 

That's the plan -- on many levels -- for the coming year. Goals? You can be sure of that. Whether they'll be accomplished remains to be seen, when at year's end, I find myself looking back again. 

P.S. The golden sculpture on the left (at the Marine Drive station on the Canada Line) is a piece of public art by Douglas Coupland, a representation of the famous 'Hollow Tree' at Stanley Park.

Spiders rule

 

Now that the big freeze has retreated, the spiders are back, though I'm not sure what they'll catch. I haven't seen a lot of small insects around. 

Maybe that big web will catch the last of this too-long-lingering flu bug we've had. At least it hasn't been covid.

Looking forward to the new year, with blessings and happy times for all!

Gettin' ready...

I'm one of those people who take a long time getting ready to do things -- almost anything. And Christmas is one of those long-to-prep celebrations. 

First place to start is summertime, picking berries. That's when the jams that will be gifts start getting made. 

Probably all year long, I enjoy trolling second-hand stores. It seems I always find something or other that goes into my stash of potential gifts for Christmas time (though birthday gifts often arrive this way too). 

One of the most fun parts of my big preparations is the making of the cards. This is a tradition, probably ten years on now, where my friend and I sit across from each other at the table (piled with our crafty supplies) and create our one-of-a-kind greeting cards. 

Yes, they've all been mailed by now. I can only hope they've all arrived at their destinations. 

From here, it's just a matter of continuing with the baking and other cooking (Swedish meatballs tonight, Cornish hens tomorrow). 

Whatever you do to celebrate, however you prepare for the day, I send my best wishes for a way to spend time with people you care about -- and yes, before too many more days go by -- some time to sit back and do nothing. 

Hummin' along

Somehow I doubt our little bird is humming 'White Christmas' though if that were the case, he'd be pretty close to being on time. We had a dusting of the snow today and even grumpy me had to admit that it looks quite pretty. 

I'm not sure how something as small as a hummingbird gets by when it's below freezing outdoors. It's clear that fluffing out their feathers must do something -- their own little 'puffy coats' I guess. 

This one (and pals) get a bit of a boost, as the feeder itself is now resting (as it did during last winter's coldest spell) over top of the lava light base. A small tin pie pan keeps the sugared water from getting too hot, but the perch must still be a little bit warm, as the bird will come and sit there for quite a long while.

But now that night has fallen, I guess the little birds are back up in the cedars, going into the temporary 'hibernation' they apparently do when the weather's this harsh. 

Sweet dreams, little hummers.  

All human beings are...

...born free and equal in dignity and rights.

Today is International Human Rights Day, a day commemorating the date the United Nations adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Although that took place over 70 years ago in 1948, not every human is as free as terms of the proclamation hoped. I love the fact that one of my heroines (and friend of Amelia Earhart), Eleanor Roosevelt, headed the committee in charge of creating the declaration. 

The photo I selected for today is of a friend who is a great inspiration to me -- for her simple lifestyle, her love of nature, and her acceptance of everyone. It's a true bonus that a rainbow, long a symbol of both hope and peace, as well as its contemporary meaning of acceptance of sexual diversity, managed to appear in this shot of her beautiful hand. 

Oooops!

It's been a while since I posted anything, but this time I had a good reason -- or it sure felt like a good reason: I was away on a long-awaited holiday, an extended time for lazy relaxing, seaside in Mexico.

It was two weeks by the beach, with perfect weather every day. The breakfasts were amazing, with mounds of fresh fruit every day. Today, when I went shopping at my local produce store, the papayas (which I ate every morning during our vacation) clocked in at eight dollars a pound. Needless to say, I walked on by and settled for less expensive toppings for my morning yogourt. 

Lunches and dinners were every bit as fantastic, with such a range of flavours and ingredients, there was no getting bored. I even lucked out, finding two of my favourites: rellenos and tamales now and then. 

People were friendly, and very patient with my dreadful grasp of Spanish. As for the above situation at the pool, it had been a matter of striking up a conversation with people who were attending a wedding. The men were all dressed in white shirts and when I asked permission to take a photo, they jumped up from where they'd been sitting poolside to pose. Only thing was that one of the fellows stood much too close to the edge. Last view of his falling into the deep end was his hand trying valiantly to keep his phone dry. He emerged, safe but soaked. All I could do was apologize...

The only less-than-perfect aspect of the time there was the LOUD music provided by the local banda musicians. These groups wandered along the beach, stopping to play as often as invited (with 'donations' from would-be listeners). I'll admit that I wasn't one of the generous types who contributed to their cause. I guess it's something you need to be used to...either that or be deaf enough that the high-volume of the brass instruments (trumpets and tuba) doesn't bother you, and also that the thumping bass drum doesn't shake you to your core. Pretty intense on the decibel level, especially at 2 am. 

If nothing else, memories of the bandas make me appreciate the quiet of being home, where 2 am might only be disturbed by the sound of my own snoring.