Christmas Eve 2014

I can't believe that it's Christmas Eve again.  Christmas seems to creep up just a little faster every year.  Despite that,  I have all the presents wrapped and under the tree. I think this may be the first time ever.  Usually I'm  wrapping presents after the late Christmas Eve service.  Last year I was still making Christmas presents and arranging IOU's for some people whose gifts weren't finished until after Christmas.

Maybe part of the reason I'm ahead this year is that I took part in three Christmas craft fairs starting in early November.  I had to have things finished in order to sell.  The craft fairs were fun, largely because of the other vendors I met.  I had a great conversation with one guy who is a student and makes a bit of extra money turning pens all year and selling them during the Christmas season. He says he doesn't make enough to offset his school fees but at least it offsets the amount he spends on materials and pen-making supplies.

I understand exactly what he means. I'm extremely grateful that I don't have to pay the electric bill with the proceeds from my woodworking.  The fairs were still worth it for two reasons: I did make a bit of money to offset production costs and I was able to move some of what I made out of the house. If you do any kind of craft there comes a point when you need an outlet otherwise the work just piles up around your ears. Some of the things I thought would sell well didn't and some of the things I wasn't sure about sold out. Perhaps with experience I will get better at discerning which is which. In the meantime, the things that didn't sell will give me a start on stock for next year.

Most of my sales were to friends and some people bought things out of the blue. One woman contacted me through my website saying she was unable to get to one of the fairs and wondered if I had any ornaments left.  I did and, as I was out and about the next day anyway, I delivered them to her at work.  She told me she would be sending them to family in Nova Scotia. I'm delighted that some of my work will be making the trip part way across Canada.

Some people want cooking spoons made from our green ash tree that was cut down in early November.  They are willing to wait until after Christmas for their orders and I'll be starting on those once the turkey soup is made and the wrapping paper tidied up.  I've been out of the shop for several days now and I miss it.  It will be no hardship to get started on the next batch of projects,  some for others and for us.

The lead-up to Christmas has been a great deal of fun.  We've had time to visit with friends and attend parties for the various musical groups we belong to. For the first time we shared a Chanukah dinner with friends and it is one of the highlights of this season.  Christmas Day will be quiet and relaxed. Richard's brother is with us tonight and Richard's dad will join the three of us for dinner tomorrow. We're cooking a turkey roll rather than a whole bird but there should still be enough left over to make soup on Boxing Day. That's almost as good as the Christmas dinner.

At this time of year I'm prompted to consider all the people who make our lives so rich.  Whether you celebrate Christmas, Chanukah or the winter solstice, whether your gatherings are with family or friends, whether your celebrations are large and noisy or small and quiet, I wish you much love and laugher.  Thank you for being part of my circle. Good wishes and good times are among the most precious of gifts. All the best tonight, tomorrow and throughout 2015.

Gone with the woodpecker

The photo I didn't take.

I have a good life.  I know that and in spite of that knowing sometimes I get grumpy.  I mean REALLY  grumpy. I feel I'm getting old, losing my balance; responsibilities look like burdens; I should exercise and I don't; the dust bunnies in the house are about to chew my foot off and my study looks like a bomb hit it - as usual. I want to cuddle a pet but Odie bites me. My brain knows that these are minor irritations and still, I'm grumpy.

I'm not always sure what causes me to be so cranky but I know what caused it a few days ago.  I woke up from a 'frustration' dream.  I have them often enough to be annoying. The most common one involves being in the wrong school and realizing that my class at the right school is starting and I have to get across town to teach.  A variation is that I've been hired back for one semester after retiring but no one will give me a timetable or tell me what room my class meets in so I wander the halls trying to find out where I should be, worrying about the kids in class with no teacher and worrying that I'm not doing my job.  One dream, not a teaching dream for a change, had me losing a friend's car and running around the neighbourhood trying to find it. When I wake up from such a dream I feel uneasy and frustrated.  That's how I woke up the other morning.

I grumbled my way out to the kitchen and put on the kettle then went over to Odie's cage to lift his cover. I had to cover half way off when a movement at the window caught my eye.  I saw black and white feathers at the edge of the eves trough.  "Magpie," I thought  and then looked more closely.  There it was: a  downy woodpecker.  I stopped, the cage cover in my hands.  The little bird hung upside down from the eves trough, looked around and pecked tentatively at the spot where the eves trough joins the house.  I was within two arm's lengths of him.  After a frozen moment I began to reach for my phone hoping for a picture.  I wasn't slow enough.  The woodpecker flew off and I finished uncovering Odie.  I was smiling. The greyness of the dream was gone and in that instant the colour of the day changed,  thanks to a tiny woodpecker.

Adventures in Flopsy part 3: Newfoundland

The walk in to Western Brook Pond

We arrived in Newfoundland on the ferry Blue Puttees and made our way to the Grand Codroy Campground in the Codroy Valley. We were met by a very friendly woman who ran the gift shop because the owners of the campground were putting on a show that included lots of singing, some cod kissing and a certificate for those who actually kissed the cod. We looked on from the outside and were rather glad we didn't have to make the decision to kiss or not to kiss the fish.

The rain let up after a while and we got a chance to check out the gift shop. There were a number of band sawn boxes there along with many knitted items and other local crafts. Apparently the box maker had a whole garage full of boxes when the operator of the gift shop approached him and asked if she could sell his work.

Western Brook Pond

On our way to Gros Morne the next morning we stopped in Cornerbrook and paid yet another visit to Canadian Tire. Unfortunately I didn't keep the receipts to see exactly how many Canadian Tire stores we visited and their locations. When we got to Gros Morne the ranger told us about an overnight hike that would take us to a spectacular peak overlooking Western Brook Pond. The hike featured gourmet food and all we needed to take along was a sleeping bag. We thought that sounded pretty good so we signed up. We hadn't really planned to overnight anywhere except in Flopsy but we had sleeping bags and day packs so we figured we could manage. In Green Point campground we organized our gear and ourselves for an early start the next morning.

The superhighway part of the hike

When we got up it was foggy. We hoped the fog would clear but told ourselves that we had hiked in the rain before and we could do it again. Besides this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. As we pulled out onto the highway it started to rain. We hoped that by the time we got to the gathering spot it would stop. It didn't.

We started to hike a bit later than we had intended and the clouds showed no signs of lifting. The hike began with a walk on a level pathway to the pond. From there we took a boat to the end of the pond and began the serious hiking; that's SERIOUS hiking. I was a bit apprehensive when I saw the rest of the group. I was the oldest and most of the rest looked like they were in their 30's or 40's. There was one guy who was a few years younger than I am. I told Clem, our guide, that my plan was to set a pace I could keep for the long haul and that I wouldn't be fast but I'd be steady.

Rainy day

Our boat

After a boat ride to the end of Western Brook Pond, we stopped briefly at the base camp where there were the two large tents, one for cooking and one for eating. Clem dropped off the cooler with the food and we set off up the trail which was pretty hard to find. By the time we had walked for about half an hour the trail became more of a route and an overgrown one at that. It was still raining and I couldn't see my feet because the foliage was up to my thighs. I had no idea what I was stepping on. I stepped on something slippery, perhaps a downed tree branch, lost my balance and ended up sitting in the mud having scraped my forearm on the way down. When I caught up with the rest of the group I announced that nobody else had to slip and sit in the mud because I had already done it. I guess once wasn't enough because I ended up falling 6 times in all. Did I mention that by this time it was pouring rain?

While I was going at a reasonable pace for me, the others were losing time waiting for me. When Richard and I and Michaela, the sweep guide, caught up to the main group they would start off again. I didn't need a rest so continuing on was fine. The terrain got steeper and the rocks we had to clamber up got higher as we climbed up the valley. I noticed I was doing a lot of grunting and muttering as I hauled myself up onto rock after rock.

The non-path

The plan was to have lunch at the top of the waterfall where the spectacular views were and then return the way we came. When we got to the bottom of the waterfall Clem mentioned that it got steeper from here up. That was enough for me. I was cold and wet and hoisting myself up onto large rock after large rock was tiring. I was also concerned about losing my balance on a steep slope. It was pretty clear to Clem that it wouldn't be a good idea for me to continue either so he asked me what I wanted to do. He said Michaela would stay with me or we could head down slowly. He offered to turn the whole group around. I told him I didn't like that idea as the rest were perfectly capable of going to the top. Richard offered to stay with me which I truly appreciated because I knew he wanted to get to the top. The others continued while Richard Michaela and I had something to eat and then headed back down the non-path.

Michaela had done the through hike which went over a ridge down into another valley and then back to the start of the hike. She had never retraced her steps the way we were about to do. If she wasn't sure of the route she asked us to wait while she scouted ahead. Richard is also very good at outdoor navigation and between the two of them we got down with a minimum of backtracking.

Now that's wet!

The rain continued all afternoon. I remember saying quite confidently that I didn't think I could possibly get any wetter. Another 20 minutes down the trail in what was a downpour I revised that statement. When we arrived at base camp Michaela, who was just as wet as we were, got the stove started and made us tea and toast while we wrung out and hung up our soaking outer layers. It was warm and dry in the tent and we were very grateful to be out of the incessant rain.The rest of the group came in about an hour after we did.

Clem: from guide to chef

When Clem had the group together he gave us the option of going back on the boat before dark or spending the night in the base camp as we had originally intended. Richard and I had been eyeing the brand new tents still in their original sacks and the tubes of seam sealant that were carefully placed with the tents. We didn't fancy putting up tents that had not been seam sealed in the rain and then trying to stay dry in them if it rained all night. No one else was really keen to spend the night in a tent either so Clem made us a lovely appetizer of scallops and toast, poured everyone who wanted them a few drinks and then cleaned up. We climbed back into our sodden gear and headed for the boat.

I love my modern hiking gear and have huge respect for what our ancestors faced when they came to make Canada their home. It was chilly on the water but I noticed that from the heat in the tent and the heat of my body my trusty nylon pants were almost dry. I was luxuriating in the feeling when a huge wave leapt over the side of the boat, broke over my head and soaked me. It's a good thing I don't dissolve in water.

At the end of our chilly ride back down the pond Clem docked the boat and we walked to the parking lot in the gathering dusk. Back at the vehicles, Clem gave out the halibut and veggies that were to have been the dinner's main course. We were delighted we had a fridge in Flopsy. The next night Richard cooked up the fish and peppers which we enjoyed in the warmth of the van.

Ready to head back

It was late by the time we got into Rocky Harbour and we couldn't find a space in the campground so we checked into the motel that was right next door. We dragged our tired and soggy selves in and treated ourselves to hot showers, an evening of reliable internet access and enough electrical outlets to charge all the devices at once. The next morning we did laundry before we left. On the hike Micheala told us about her favourite restaurant, Java Jacks. We went there and enjoyed a delicious lunch while looking out at the rain. In the afternoon we visited a lighthouse and talked with a woman who had lived all her life on the rock and was doing what she could to preserve the culture by working as an interpreter. Back at the van, I had a short nap and we went to Berry Hill campground.

The next day the sun came out and we headed for the other part of the park. We stopped for lunch at a lookout where we spread out our wet gear and tried to get the sun to dry out our boots. The packs dried pretty well in the sun and the breeze. The boots – not so much. We spent much of the afternoon in the Discovery Centre where we again had reliable wifi. The exhibits weren't bad either.

On our way to the Trout River campground on the west side of the island, we stopped to walk the Table Lands trail where the continents of Africa and North America collided and pushed up rock that was underneath the ocean. It was sunny; the trail was easy and the orangish rocks were certainly different from any others I had ever seen. Trout River was our last night in the park. We had reservations at Grand Codroy for our last in Newfoundland.

On our way back to Grand Codroy campground on Saturday July 19 we took time to hike Green Gardens. This trail led us right down to the sea and was marked by many sets of stairs. The sun was out and the day was warm. We took our time moving through the changing landscape. This was much more my kind of hike. After our hike we got back on the road and stopped in Cornerbrook for dinner in a restaurant.

Sunday July 20 was a perfect day for a ferry ride. The sun was out and the sea was flat. Richard and I had fun watching the tractors pull the trailers onto the ferry, park them and then disconnect and return for the next one. For the first time in over a month we pointed Flopsy's nose west. We were on our way home.

Here's a link to Clem's website.  The photo on the front page is the one the crew would have seen if it hadn't been rainy and cloudy.
http://clemstrekkingadventures.ca/Clems_Trekking_Adventures/Western_Brook_Pond.html

Not the Post I Intended to Write

My last classroom

I'm behind in my posts once again and had planned to write part 3 of Adventures in Flopsy. Having read the following article on a friend's Facebook page http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/naomi-lazarus/bc-schools-funding-isubsidizebced_b_5870234.html, my desire to add my two cents worth to the conversation is greater than my desire to conclude the Flopsy adventure. I'll probably get around to that eventually.

In my 30 years in the classroom I bought tons of stuff for students and I did it for purely selfish reasons, the same reasons that I spent time during family dinners off in some remote bedroom marking papers while people were chatting: facing a group of 30 teenagers without proper preparation is scary. The alternative of not buying the supplies or not spending the hours in preparation and marking was, quite simply, unthinkable.

The area behind my desk

In order for students to learn and teachers to teach you need more than a concrete box with a few desks, a blackboard (or a whiteboard) and some chalk. Students learn best when they can employ different senses and different strategies. Why did I buy the stuff? It was either in short supply, unavailable, inconvenient to access or sub standard. How can you teach an advertising unit when the only colours of markers left by December are brown and purple?

Off the top of my head here is a partial list of things I provided for the classroom throughout my career. Some I bought and some I scrounged. Teachers learn early to be expert scroungers and problem solvers.

• construction paper
• 11X14 coloured paper which I used to distinguish assignments for different classes
• art paper – The art department doesn't have a huge budget either and they can't be subsidizing the English department.
• Stickers – yes I did use stickers in high school to indicate on a wall chart which assignments were going to be graded and which ones were for practice
• sticky notes so kids could keep track of passages in novels without writing in the books
• transparent tape - The school sometimes had some but there was never enough.
• rulers - Perhaps I don't share well and didn't want to have to share the half dozen the department had with other teachers who wanted them in the same period. If you use a tool frequently you want it available without having to book it or track it down
• coloured pencils – similar problem to markers
• an overhead projector – Okay I didn't buy this. I inherited it from my father who was a math teacher and also bought a spirit duplicator and a small offset printing machine which he kept in his basement office.
• computers – Richard and I donated the 5 computers, that he had accumulated and used in his Microsoft training, so that I could have a network in my classroom and at least some students could write directly on the keyboard instead of having to write by hand and then transcribe their writing so it could be printed out.
• 2 printers at 2 different schools
• extension cords to power the computers
• overhead transparencies
• overhead markers
• stamps – the happy face kind, not the kind for mailing letters
• scissors
• glue sticks
• colour-coding dots
• pens and pencils for my and the student's use Sometimes I sold pens to the students at 10 cents each. That way I wasn't making a profit, which was against the code of professional conduct, but the pens weren't just free i.e. of no value.
• books, many many books
• various holders for papers
• a vacuum cleaner – not a new one, an old one that I inherited. The custodians didn't have enough time to clean each classroom thoroughly each day and sometimes during projects my classes made a huge mess. Leaning is like that.
• two sets of drawers to increase the storage capacity in the classroom
• tissues - I tried inviting students to supply a box of tissues when the one in the classroom ran out but only one ever did. Eventually I switched to toilet paper. It was cheaper and students tended to use less.
• cleaning products - If a desk is dirty, help the class out by cleaning it.
• staplers

  

  One of the many posters I bought

  
  
• a 3 hole punch
• a staple remover
• corrugated paper to cover up torn bulletin boards - The bulletin boards in my last classroom were in good enough shape so I left them.
• colourful posters
• large scale calendars to keep track of assignments for various classes
• computer disks in the days when the world could be organized on a floppy
• cardboard and string for book-binding projects

This isn't a comprehensive list but you get the idea. I didn't bother to keep track of how much I spent over the years. Why would I? It would just be depressing and there was no way I could claim any of it as a business expense.

There are those who will say I didn't have to do it and, technically, they are right. Practically though, I could not have survived in the classroom or been as effective a teacher as I was without those supplies. It was an investment in the students' learning and in my sanity. It was a deliberate choice I made and I would make the same choice again. The point is no teacher should have to.

A Carpenter's Apron

When it comes to clothes I'm all for comfort. I don't like lace because it itches. I like my t-shirts because they are soft and I like sweatpants and jeans because I don't have to worry about what my skirt is doing or not doing when I sit down. To me, clothes and hair should be easy to take care of and stay out of my way so I can get on with life. Pants or shorts should have lots of pockets and ones deep enough to actually put stuff in. I do carry a bag or a backpack for the larger items but there are some things that should just be handy in a pocket, my keys a handful of tissues because I hate having to wipe my nose on my sleeve and you never know when you're travelling if the pit toilet will actually have paper in it, assuming that is, the presence of a pit toilet.

There is one category of clothing that I'm an absolute sucker for though: clothing that makes me feel I belong. When I was teaching I always bought school clothing, fleece vests for draughty classrooms, wind jackets for walks in spring and fall and even drama club jackets. Wearing this sort of clothing was a way of saying, “Here's where I belong; my friends are here; these people accept me.” When I was running I proudly displayed my race shirts. They said to the world, but mostly to me, “I've done something I'm proud of.”

The day after completing the Honolulu Marathon my running partner and I were walking, no make that hobbling, down the street and a man stopped us. “How much does one of those cost,” he asked pointing to our finisher's shirts. My response was, “It cost's 26.2 miles.”

In my mind, I earn the right to wear certain types of clothing. When I cycle I wear the brightly- coloured jerseys and road shorts. The clothes say to me that I'm a cyclist. For a while I cycled in whatever I had but cycling clothes are designed for the sport and as the rides got longer I began to see the wisdom in the padded gloves and shorts and fabrics that wick sweat away from the body. At some point I decided that I qualified to wear the gear.

It was the same with running. It was a few years before I bought my first running cap and that symbol was so important to me that when the hat blew off my head I immediately spun around to chase it rolling my ankle on the side of the pathway and tearing a chunk of bone off my foot. I simply didn't think about where my foot was. I just wanted my hat back.

It's Labour Day, a day that used to be sad for me because I had to go back to teaching the next day. I had many good times teaching and I liked the kids but I always felt a heaviness descending on me when I anticipated all the work that needed to be done and the attendant feeling that I was just barely keeping my head above water no matter how many hours I worked. Today Labour Day means only that I need to pay attention to school zones while driving. It has been six years since I left the classroom and I don't call myself a teacher anymore.

It's been ten years since I took my first woodworking course and I think it's now time to call myself a woodworker. Woodworking is my delight and I'm getting better at it. When I started down this road I'd hardly ever held a hand saw and none of the tools seemed to behave the way I wanted them too. I was doubly frustrated when I looked across at the guys at the other benches whose tools seemed to be extensions of their arms. They had been sawing boards and pounding nails since they were three. I hadn't. I had a lot of practice to catch up on. There were many times when I felt like quitting but I really loved the wood and wanted desperately to be able to make beautiful things so I persisted. Now, these ten years in, I have enough skill and confidence to tackle many of the projects I can think up. They are rarely as well executed as I would like but they serve a purpose and mostly don't fall apart.

In the last couple of years I've built drawers for my computer desk and drawers to store CD's in the living room. I've built a cabinet to hold my sharpening stones and a small cabinet with a drawer to sit behind the driver's seat in Flopsy the old brown camper. On our trip across Canada this summer it made accessing maps and electronic bits and pieces much easier and I put a toggle on the drawer so that it would stay closed when we went around corners.

With much instruction and a lot of help I've built a workbench and a tool chest. I wouldn't have attempted either of those projects on my own. I've made Christmas ornaments, puzzle boxes, picture frames, door harps and pens and some of my work has sold. I make incredibly stupid mistakes and most of the time I can figure out a way to fix them. If not, I start over and make a different mistake the next time. I have more projects in mind than I can complete in the next two years and I'm always adding to the list. The important thing is that when I'm in the shop time stands still. I look at the clock to see how long parts have been in glue-up and marvel at where the time has gone. The hours are never long.

At times I wonder what it would have been like to have a job that provided the same kind of magic. Some people are lucky enough to experience that. I'm grateful that I have the time and the place to indulge in a pastime that gives me so many rewards. So this year, as teachers said goodbye to their holidays for another year, I went out and bought myself a carpenter's apron. I feel like I've earned the right to wear it and it has lots of pockets. My tape measure and the wax for my hand planes have a place to live in the apron. I'm not sure what other tools will find their way into the pockets but that will evolve as I work.

When I taught I carried my pens and keys around my neck on a lanyard. It may have looked dumb but I always had a pen within reach. Each morning when I went into my classroom I took the lanyard and put it over my head. It was part of the ritual of getting ready to work. Each night before I turned out the lights in my classroom I took off the lanyard and put it in my brief case before putting on my jacket and heading home.

Now each morning when I walk into the shop I can put on my apron. It's a way of connecting, a way of paying homage to my grandfather and my great uncle who were woodworkers. It's a way of belonging.

Adventures in Flopsy 2: Newfoundland or Bust

Actually we weren't at all sure that we'd make it as far as Newfoundland on this trip. There was a small matter of a hurricane ripping through the maritime provinces and we didn't want to become part of the problem by going somewhere where resources were already strained. As so many times on this trip, we changed our plans and then changed them again.

We intended to head for Newfoundland as fast as we could and then take our time on the way back. We did want to visit Quebec City though so we headed off with that in mind when we were finished the singing gig in Ottawa. We were a bit apprehensive at the border because of our lack of French and we stopped at the first visitor information centre we came upon. The lady there was very helpful. She assured us that we'd be fine with our very limited French. She gave us a map of the best way around Montreal and she recommended a campground across the river from the Old Quebec. We could, she said, take a ferry over so that we wouldn't have to worry about driving. What a brilliant suggestion!

We did have a bit of trouble understanding exactly what the parking attendant wanted us to do when we pulled up to the ferry dock but with some pointing and grunting on both sides we got parked in the proper spot. We walked up to the Citadel and signed on for a tour. I heard my dad talk about the French Canadian regiment the 'Van Doos' from his experiences in the second world war and it was interesting to see their home barracks. There was a parade and we got to see the soldiers in their bright red uniforms and their busbies. Rather ironic that the only regiment in Canada to wear the very British busbies is the French one. Unlike the Stampede or Banff and Lake Louise in the summer, the Citadel was comparatively quiet. They only allowed a certain number of people on each tour but there weren't huge line-ups waiting to get a tour either.

After the tour and a good look around the museum, we headed into the city for some lunch. Richard had been without a watch for a few days and we figured it must have slipped out of his pocket. He was quite unhappy about that because I have a watch that matches it. We went into a Swatch shop and he bought a rather elegant replacement. It's also a very practical souvenir of the trip. The watch I wear most of the time I bought in Zermatt Switzerland. I won't say that I think of Zermatt every time I check my watch but probably once every day or so I'm reminded of the great hiking holiday in the Alps. Of course, as luck would have it, I later found Richard's watch in the van.

On Richard's bucket list was having poutine in Quebec City. We went to a rather upscale restaurant and he had poutine. It was nothing like the poutine that comes in a package or the kind you get at MacDonald's. Still, I wouldn't put it near the top of my list of favourite foods. I don't remember what I had but it wasn't poutine.

With the Hurricane Arthur making its way north, we decided to go around the Gaspe Peninsula and stay out of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia where the worst of the storm was supposed to hit. We'd do our sightseeing on the way to Newfoundland rather than on the way back and if we didn't make it to Newfoundland this trip we'd just have to plan another. We started to follow the lighthouse route and our first lighthouse was at Pointe-au-Pere. We got a tour, in French, saw a video, in English, and got to go through the Canadian submarine the Onondaga. Both of us really enjoyed that stop.

We kept our eyes on the weather forecast and decided to head to Matane which was supposed to have a municipal campground. It did and it was a lovely one. We planned to stay one night and then move on but by that time the trailing edge of the storm was making itself felt and we decided to stay for two nights. With the help of Google Translate, Richard managed to secure a second night for us and we hunkered down in the wind and the rain. It was chilly enough that we even turned on the furnace at one point. We saw one tree with a broken limb as a result of the storm but we were warm and dry and our shelter stood up just fine in the wind. Because power was out in New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and parts of Prince Edward Island we took our time in Quebec until the power was back on in most places. We spent two days in Forillon National Park. It was kind of exciting to buy a national park pass somewhere other than Banff.

There were a number of hikes that we could have done but we chose to hike up Mont Saint Alban which gave us gorgeous views along the coast in both directions. On our way down we came across a mama and a baby porcupine. We waited for them to get off the trail. Mama obliged and lumbered off into the bush. Baby had other ideas and headed down the trail in the opposite direction. We waited for a bit and then crossed the trail in between them. Mama did not come rushing out of the bush and Baby seemed content to chew on the foliage.

After 2 nights in Forillon we carried on and stopped for lunch in Perce. It was a challenge getting a parking spot but we managed and had lunch in a little restaurant overlooking the ocean. We debated about whether to stay and take the boat out to the bird sanctuary but the weather forecast was for rain the next day and we decided we didn't want to spend another day waiting it out. We reasoned if it was raining we might as well be using the time to get closer to Newfoundland. Perce Rock and the gannet colony went onto our bucket list for another trip.

The next national park we hit was Kouchibouguac. I practiced a lot to spell that and to say it. I think it was one of my favourite places on the trip, although it was really hot and humid and I had a serious case of the grumpies because of the heat. There are lots of trails that to hike or cycle. The second day we rented bikes and rode 23 km on the trails, not a hugely long ride but these bikes were... interesting. They had one speed with coaster brakes and we had to ask the rental guy for helmets. It took me a while to stop grabbing for the non-existent brakes with my hands. We got quite a workout and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

From Kouchibouguac we drove to PEI. We weren't sure we'd get to PEI either but, once again, we lucked out. We phoned from the Nova Scotia visitor's centre to book passage on the ferry to Port Aux Basques in Newfoundland. We couldn't get on for a couple of days so we decided to contact John and Kris on PEI to see if we could arrange to meet. John is very quick replying to emails and within a short time we were heading back so we could take the Confederation Bridge over to the island.

It's an advantage driving a rather large high vehicle over the bridge because we could see over the concrete barriers on either side. In a car we would have only seen the road. When we left the island we chose to take the ferry rather than the bridge because it was shorter and because the day we left was windy and Flopsy's steering is not the most responsive on the planet. In that situation a large high vehicle was not an advantage.

We had a marvellous time with John and Kris who wined us and dined us. We caught up on the intervening years, had great conversations and met their two dogs. Our time on PEI was one of the highlights of the trip.

After taking the ferry to Nova Scotia we camped about 20 minutes away from the Newfoundland ferry. Getting to Newfoundland would take 6 hours. We needed to be at the ferry at 9:30 a.m. The ferry didn't leave until 11:30 but it really did take all that time to get all the vehicles loaded. Having secured a space in the campground, we drove into North Sydney to have a lobster dinner at a restaurant recommended to us by the person at the campground. When we got there it was closed. We settled for pizza and never did get our lobster dinner. That's one more thing for the next time.

When we got up in the morning it was drizzling and chilly. The drizzle turned to rain once we left the port and we were glad we brought our fleece sweaters out of the van with us. We found a spot on one of the decks right by the windows that looked out the bow of the ship. We had lunch on board in a rather unusual restaurant. We lined up to order and pay for our meal, then obtained a number to put on the table. When the meal was ready one of the crew brought it to our table, sort of like a cafeteria where someone else goes through the line for you.

When we finished lunch we listened to books, wandered around the ship, checked out the gift shop and took photos of the rain and the sea. When we arrived in Port Aux Basques it was raining and grey and altogether desolate looking; nevertheless I couldn't wait to see what Newfoundland had in store for us.

Looking Back on the Holiday

This is rather out of order but I was thinking about our great holiday adventure today and mentally checking off all the people who made it memorable.

Here's a partial list:

• The French Canadian woman in the campground who spoke English to us and then when we said we were trying to speak French she asked us questions in very slow measured French so we could understand although we had to answer them in English. We laughed together.
• Jack and Mary owners of a Roadtrek camper van who spent the evening with us, showed us where everything was in their van, came over to our campsite to look at our van and then invited us back for chocolate and tea.
• Frederick a park ranger in Gros Morne who took a year-long woodworking course. He showed me photos of a chair he restored and I showed him pictures of my shop. We talked about wood and he told us where his camper van was parked and invited us to take a peek inside on our way out. Later in the campground we met him again. He was previously stationed in Banff for 8 years.
• Richard and Deanna, the two retired teachers from North Bay and owners of their third Roadtrek. He gave us ideas on what to look for in a used Roadtrek and what we should be prepared to spend. We stood on the beach on the shore of Lake Superior and exchanged teacher stories.
• Michaela, the ranger in Gros Morne who told us about the overnight hike and who came back with Richard and me when I realized I was in over my head. She was lovely to talk to and made a tough hike much more pleasant. She will make a good guide.
• The interpreter in the lighthouse who had lived in the area all her life and talked about doing her work in order to keep the stories and the culture alive.
• The woman in the campground check in who asked where we were from and when we told her her comment was, “You probably know more Newfies than I do.” That made us laugh.
• The man who, when he learned that Richard was born in Newfoundland, said, “You're just a Newfie who lives in Alberta.”
• The guys in the Chrysler dealership who ordered the water pump for Flopsy from Toronto and got us back on the road with 8 litres of the proper concentration of antifreeze so we could get home.
• The young man in the Canadian Tire in Marathon who got the socket set out of his car and took off the remaining bits of mirror, helped us look for a solution to the problem and then took the nut and the new mirror into the back and welded them together. He came out to the parking lot with us and attached the mirror to the bracket and adjusted it while Richard sat in the driver's seat.
• The woman in the information centre in Quebec who gave us all kinds of literature and a map on which she highlighted the best route around Montreal.

Then there were the friends we were able to visit as we crossed the country.

• Betsy and Dave. I have known Betsy since she was we were both teenagers and was delighted to meet her husband Dave and stay in their home. We had a lot of years to catch up on.
• John J, owner of Lost Loon Island, who cut a piece of 2X4 to wedge the battery in so that it wouldn't slide toward the front of the van since one of the clamps had rusted through. We had a good visit and went for dinner before heading off the next morning. On the way back, we actually got to visit Lost Loon Island when we didn't think the timing could possibly work out.
• John and Kris, friends since my first few years of teaching, opened their home on PEI to us. They wined us and dined us and we talked and laughed long into the night.

We saw gorgeous scenery; we walked and cycled and had campfires and hid out from the rain and the bugs. All of those things are memorable but the best thing about the holiday was the people who enriched our lives if only for a few moments. I hope as, we move through our lives, that some of the people we meet might be able to say the same about us.

Life with Odie: Part 1

(This looks like the day to clean house in the blog.  Here's another entry that apparently didn't get posted until now.  Knowing how life has progressed for Odie and the humans in his flock, you might be interested in the beginning of the relationship.)

I've always liked birds. I like them but they, at least the ones we have in our flock at the moment, seem to much prefer Richard. We got Odie, the Senegal parrot, just over a year ago. He was mainly my idea. I wanted a parrot that had the potential for training and was a bit more acrobatic than Bailey the cockatiel or Angie the budgie.

A friend told me that she thought a Senegal would be perfect. I did my research and talked to our avian vet who agreed that this particular species would likely be a good fit. We were set on having a male because they have more potential for talking and because we've had so much trouble with Bailey being broody and wanting to lay eggs. I've been checking out the bird ads on Kijiji for a couple of years now, just to see what's out there. I don't remember exactly when Odie came to my attention. An ad for him would appear and then it would be gone for a month or two. Then it would appear again. In the meantime Richard and I talked about whether or not we should get another bird. He wasn't too keen. I guess I was looking for a replacement for Koko the Quaker who was with us for 7 years and died very suddenly in 2007. In reality, I knew that it wasn't possible to replace a Koko. No two pets are alike.

Just before we went to Italy in the fall of 2009 I saw Odie advertised again. Of course, we couldn't do anything at that point because we were going to be away for three weeks but I decided that I would call about Odie if he was advertised again after we got back. In December of 2009 Odie's ad showed up again. He seemed to be well-socialized and, according to the owners, interacted with both of them. We arranged to meet Odie. He let me pick him up and return him to his cage although he did set his beak on my hand when I put him down on one of his perches. We went home and did some more soul searching. A parrot that can live 40 years is a big commitment. We wanted to travel and as my mother was fond of saying, "Pets are a tie." Pets also enrich day-to-day life. We next arranged for Odie to have a health check with our vet.

We met the owner outside the vet clinic one cold winter day before Christmas. He handed us Odie in a box wrapped in a blanket and then went to get a coffee. The vet checked Odie over and took blood for the DNA testing. We returned Odie to his owner and waited for the results. By this time we'd pretty well decided we'd take Odie even if he turned out to be a she. The results came back: Odie was a relatively healthy male.

On December 27, 2009 Odie joined our flock. His former owner brought him and his small cage over to the house. I gave her a cheque and we proceeded to get Odie settled in. In the first days he seemed to accept me all right although I would get the occasional nip. I'm not sure at what point things went sideways for me and Odie. The nips became serious bites which often left a trail of blood on the kitchen floor.

I read many training manuals, watched DVD's on parrot behaviour. We had two consultations with our vet about how to stop the biting. Birds don't usually bite in the wild so somehow I had taught Odie to bite. All three of us were unhappy. Richard was unhappy because he didn't like to see me getting hurt and because Odie had chosen Richard when our plan was that Odie would interact with both of us. I was upset because I very much wanted to be able to handle Odie. I knew he was a smart bird and I had hopes of training him to do some tricks which, some of the literature said, would help a bird bond with its owner. Clearly something was off with Odie because he kept biting.

There were days when Richard wanted to find a new home for Odie right away. Parrots are intelligent and require a lot of daily interaction. Because, I didn't want to be bitten I stopped trying to handle Odie. That meant that it fell to Richard to attend to this energetic and demanding creature. There were days when I was ready to give up on Odie and give Odie up but I've never been one to give away pets once they are in my home and it wouldn't be fair to Odie to simply shuffle the problem off onto someone else. As the vet pointed out, "He's just being a bird."

(And five years later he is still 'being a bird.' I haven't been bitten for quite a while but then I haven't tried to scratch his head when he is outside the cage or pick him up either.)

Thoughts on Rotten Bananas and a Cockatiel

(August 1, 2014. I guess I got organized at one point and thought I would write a blog entry and post it later.  I didn't expect I'd post it this much later.)

I love banana bread and occasionally I get around to making it. In the meantime if the bananas get a wee but too brown even for us I hoard them in the freezer waiting for a day when I decide to make banana bread.

Earlier this year I had quite a few bananas saved up. I read somewhere that the best way to freeze bananas is to peel them before you put them in the freezer. I read that after I had frozen a few in the skins. The internet was rife with stories of how hard it was to peel the bananas once they were frozen. As a result, I used up all the peeled bananas first. In fact the ones in the skins sat there for months. One day I decided I either needed to use the bananas or throw them out.

I took them out of the freezer and looked at them. The skins were completely black and they were hard as rocks. I had nothing to lose so I decided to try an experiment. I unwrapped the bananas and stabbed the skins with a paring knife. I had no wish for the bananas to explode in the microwave. I didn't know if they would but I knew if you didn't prick the skins of potatoes they would explode. I set the microwave to defrost, put one banana in and waited. The microwave beeped when it was done and I took out the hot banana. It was really squishy. 'How on earth am I going to peel this?” I wondered. I cut the top off and gave the banana a bit of a squeeze. Some mushy banana came out the cut.

I got a bowl, turned the banana upside down and squeezed it like a tube of toothpaste. The banana slid neatly into the bowl. I nuked the other two bananas and made banana bread wondering why I had put off using the bananas for so long. Something I thought was going to be an icky chore turned out to be really easy and, the banana bread was delicious. There are many times when I have put off doing something because I thought is was going to be too hard or too unpleasant only to find out, when I finally got around to it, that it wasn't nearly as bad as I expected.

There is a flip side to this story, though. In January of 2013 our 17 year old cockatiel tried to fly off my shoulder and had a rather hard landing on the stairs. The next day I could hear a whistling noise when she breathed and when she tried to tuck her beak into her back feathers to take a nap she couldn't settle but took it out again and faced forward. She seemed to be happy enough sitting on my shoulder but I was concerned. This bird had been to the vet so often that the vet joked she should have her own key to the office. I didn't want to take her in it if was nothing but I wanted to make sure she was okay. I called and got an appointment for the afternoon.

When I got to the vet's with her she was running around in her traveling box squeaking in response to the other birds in the office. Watching her, I began to feel foolish for brining her in. Still, the receptionist assured me, it was better to be sure. When we got into the examining room the vet listened to her and palpated her abdomen. It was spongy and the vet recommended x-rays.

They x-rayed her and brought her back. Her abdomen was full of fluid and that fluid was pressing on her air sacks making it hard for her to breathe. We could start her on diuretics but the vet said given her age and her history the cause was probably either a failing heart or a failing liver. In either case the prognosis was not good. Since we had been jabbing her with needles quite regularly for the past two years we thought it better to euthanize her rather than subject her to more invasive treatment that wouldn't likely change the outcome. The vet said I could take her home to say good bye.

I called Richard and we agreed that he would come to see her at the vet's and we would sign the necessary papers to have her euthanized. My last glimpse of her was sitting on Richard's shoulder and snuggling close to his neck. When I took her in that day I didn't think we'd be returning home without her.

Why are these two incidents linked in my mind? Perhaps because both serve to remind me that in simple and in complex things I cannot predict the future and I really don't know as much as I like to think I do. Sometimes, now, when I'm putting off a task or rushing through a day without really paying attention I remind myself to enjoy both the banana bread and the cockatiels that cross my path.

Bailey our first and oldest bird

Adventures in Flospy: Ottawa

One Accord singing in the lobby on parliament hill
Photo by Selim Sayegh

Richard, who doesn't consider writing among his favourite pastimes, is putting me to shame on the blog front. During our recent trip across the country he wrote a blog post every day. There was a wee bit of whining some days about why he thought it was a good idea in the first place but he wrote faithfully and his followers enjoyed the adventures. Since the list of readers doesn't necessarily overlap, I thought I'd take the chance to bring you up to date on our comings and goings so far this summer. It has been an adventure in many senses of the word.

One Accord, the community choir in which we both sing, got the opportunity to go to Ottawa for the Unisong festival of choirs from across Canada. We decided to drive “Flopsy” our 1984 Dodge camper van to Ottawa and then point her nose east to see how far we could get. In Ottawa we sang our heads off for four days and had a great time. The culmination of the rehearsals was three performances at the National Arts Centre on Canada Day. The first, in the morning, included all the choirs singing the pieces we worked on the previous three days. Of course, we worked on the pieces before we got to Ottawa but it was up to guest conductor Kelly Walsh to put it all together beginning on June 28. It was great to sing for her. She was very clear in what she wanted, was always positive and had a terrific sense of humour.

There was one concert in the afternoon and one in the evening both with the National Arts Centre Orchestra and conductor Alain Trudel. Kelly Walsh prepped us ahead of our rehearsal with Trudel saying that if the conductor didn't have to tell us to speed up we would truly have made the grade. In her experience it's common for orchestral conductors to remind choirs to keep up. We were pleased with ourselves when Trudel didn't have to remind us even once to keep up.

Mi'kmaq Honour Song during the choral concert
Photo by Selim Sayegh

The concerts at the NAC were fun and in some ways much like any other concert. It might have been a different experience for folks from smaller communities who are not used to having performance opportunities in large venues. The most difficult thing for me was trying to memorize the words especially the ones in French. I confess to even needing a cheat sheet for the French verse of 'O Canada.'

Concert with the NAC orchestra
Photo by Selim Sayegh

I was seated beside a grade 11 student from Ontario who was quite willing to help me with the French. I enjoyed talking with her at breaks and remembered fondly why I like that age-group so much. Although the powers-that-be really wanted us to perform without music they weren't actually standing in the wings taking it away from us which, from my point of view, was wise. As far as this particular chorister is concerned they had a choice of gibberish words and improvised notes if I sang without music or something far closer to being accurate and musical if I sang with music. I did try to memorize the songs and, these days, I find it much more difficult to get words and music to stick than I used to. I can usually remember the notes but get mixed up when phrases repeat with slight differences or lose count when we repeat the same phrase a number of times. I'm not the only one. Thank heavens for the kids' choirs and the high school and college singers who were able to get the stuff into their heads.

While in Ottawa we toured the mint which I really enjoyed. We also had a river cruise and were able to find a spot to watch the fireworks on Canada Day. Our accommodation while in Ottawa was in the university residence. Richard and I shared a suite with our good friends Deb and Steve and we had a riot. It was hard to fit in enough sleep because we stayed up late after rehearsals and performances laughing talking and telling stories. You're never too old to be silly and have a good laugh.

The only down side to Ottawa was the humidity. I am not good in the heat. End of story. I have a few chores to do so I'll save the rest of the adventure for a few more posts, not exactly immediate news but a good way to recall a fun summer nonetheless.