A butterfly with hiccoughs

Here we are on the last day of 2020. Many people have looked back on the year with eloquence and humour and I don’t feel like trying for either one of those, so in my final 2020 post I’m going to hop around among my current thoughts. I don’t know who described thinking as a ‘butterfly with hiccoughs’ but I’ve always loved that image so here goes.

I’m ridiculously happy that I managed to complete two projects in two days. The current ukulele build has been underway for two years now and most things I undertake last for at least a week. I gave R an IOU for new scales on one of the many paring knives we have around here. They came from his parents’ place and have no markings whatsoever on the steel although they are great knives. I’ve done two in the past and decided it was time for a third one. Eventually I hope to do all of them but that means rounding them up and that's for another day.

I didn’t get the scales on in one day but while I was peening the brass rods I used to pin the scales on, I took a good look at the little ball peen hammer that was my dad’s. Ever since I can remember it has been wrapped with electrical tape near the head. To give you an idea of how long the tape has been on there, it is cloth tape, not the plastic sort we use now. I figured the tape was probably to hold the handle together because it was cracked. I decided I could make a new handle so I cut the tape off (the handle was cracked) and then cut the handle off just below the head. I had quite a time getting the remaining piece of wood out of the head. I drilled and whacked at it and completely destroyed the edge on one of my chisels. Luckily I know how to fix that. Eventually I got all the splintery bits out of the head. There was a metal wedge to hold the handle on and when I whacked the last bit out it went on the floor along with the wedge. I did a cursory look and didn’t find it so I decided to use a wooden wedge instead.


We had an ash tree cut down a few years ago and I found a relatively straight-grained piece of ash for a handle. It took me quite a while to shape the handle, fix it into the head and put a finish on it. By the end of the day I had a new handle on the old hammer. There’s a spot near the head where a small branch was growing and I know that will be a weak spot. Since the hammer is small and light and I’m likely to use it only on brass rod and other soft metals, I think it should stand up as long as I need it to and then some.

The second day-long project I finished was a bread saw. I’ve seen them but never owned one. Now that I’m occasionally making bread again, I thought it would be a fun project. I went online and found a place to buy the blades and I watched one of my favourite YouTubers make one using only hand tools. I wasn’t a purist on this project and used the bandsaw to roughly shape the handle. From there I used chisels and rasps and at the end of the day I had a kitchen tool finished with oil and wax and ready to cut bread. Now all I need to do is to bake bread so I can test it out.


I’m a great one for alternate uses of things. Because everything is on Zoom these days, SAWS was able to arrange a Zoom call with Anne of All Trades, a well-known YouTube woodworker. She commented that her grandfather taught her to use what she had to make what she needed. I thought of all the ways that Jake does that when he makes and repairs instruments. I’m pretty sure there’s another post there but I’ll put the brakes on that butterfly.


I needed to put new strings on one of my ukuleles. I haven’t done it that often and I feel like I have ten thumbs when I come to do it. Anyway, I got the strings on and then needed to cut off the excess. I have a number of cutting implements at my disposal but the one I settled on as being easiest to use was a pair of ordinary nail clippers. They are light and they fit into tight spaces so I could cut the strings close.

The second item I found an alternate use for is a little shaker for oil and vinegar dressing. I think R has used it in the past to mix flour and water for gravy but my use is in making hot chocolate. All the hot chocolate mixes contain milk which is difficult for anyone who is lactose intolerant. We treat our milk with drops to make it easier to digest. I’ve always thought that it was a nuisance to make hot chocolate out of cocoa powder - mix sugar and cocoa, add cold milk, mix it up until it’s not lumpy and then add hot water and milk. First I cut down the amount of sugar so the ratio of ingredients became 1:1:1 and then I used the shaker to combine the cold milk, sugar and cocoa. It worked like a charm and it’s really not that hard to do. An added bonus is we have a bit more control over the amount of sugar so our hot chocolate ends up being more like a dark chocolate and I can add a drop of peppermint if I want to be especially decadent.

As this year draws to a close, I've been rereading some of my journal entries. This exercise taught me that if I spent even 1/10 of the time tidying up my study and the shop that I spend thinking I ought to be doing so, both spaces would always be spotless. I'm an untidy creature at heart and I may as well get used to it. When it bugs me enough I'll do something about it. In the meantime I have better things to think about. Resolution? Drop those two 'should's' from my list.

New Year's Eve last year

Finally, I’m pleased that this is my 38 post of 2020. That is the highest number of posts I’ve ever made in a year and I’ve surpassed my goal of two posts a month. Before I get too carried away with patting myself on the back, I know that quantity and quality aren’t the same thing and that got me thinking about what quality is to me in terms of my blog. I guess it’s posting things that are interesting to some of you, most of the time. I realize that everything I write is filtered by the way I view the world and, because of that, there’s a danger to sound like a broken record. I try not to. As I’ve said in the past, I write primarily for myself and I’m pleased and humbled that others find common ground in what I say. I’m grateful that you read these posts and that they connect us to each other. I think 2020 has taught me to look more carefully at the little things that delight me, from hammer handles to chickadees outside the window. In 2021 I’m going to continue to look for what is delightful in the ordinary. I wish each of you pleasant surprises and moments of love and laughter in 2021 regardless of what else is in store for us. Happy New Year.

A merry Covid Christmas

Tree ornament

There are so many uncertainties these days. I have discovered one small certainty that I appreciate thanks to Covid 19. Usually this is a time for rehearsals, performances and parties. Usually I exchange gifts with friends at these other functions. This year, since such gatherings are cancelled, it has given me the chance to pay attention to giving these gifts and make that a focus rather than an afterthought, and it’s been kind of fun.

We made three trips specifically to deliver gifts this year. The first took us out of town on a wonderfully warm winter day on a highway devoid of snow. The drive together was pleasant as we talked and took in the countryside. At our destination we enjoyed air hugs and exchanged gifts at arm’s length before getting back into the car to return home. The other two trips were in town.

Initially we intended to deliver all the gifts on the same day. Our route took us to the south and then to the north of the city. We were going to deliver the gifts to those nearer our home on the way home but we decided we were tired,  and the bird needed feeding.

The final trip was on a grey day with a heavy snowfall warning in the forecast. We delivered the last of our gifts, scuttled home and dug in for the storm. When we got home we discovered gifts in our mailbox. Since then the storm has passed. We are assured of a white Christmas and we have had friends email and text before dropping off gifts for us. It has been fun to see people face to face, however briefly. We don’t need to worry about whether we have cookies in the freezer or whether we should invite friends in. The answer to both questions is no. Whether we are delivering gifts or receiving them, we know that the interactions will be very brief and that has made the moments noticeably precious. Each gift whether given or received, has brought with it sparks of delight and gratitude. As we eat the goodies and, as we put the new ornaments from this year on next year’s tree, we will remember that Christmas 2020 was not only odd but was also oddly special because it brought home, in two and three minute intervals, how important we are to each other.

So, in this familiar season of light in this very odd year, Merry Christmas, Shalom, and may 2021 be good to you.

(Outdoor photos are from around the neighbourhood)

Thoughts on sorrow

I had a chirpy post about baking bread all cued up and ready to go. I will post it later but not today. Today I need to recognize sorrow. I had news yesterday that a young man, the son of a friend, completed suicide on Wednesday. I often try not to post when things look bleak. In this case I have only my words to honour both his life and the family’s grief. These are strange times when we cannot reach out and hug one another or give the briefest of touches when they are most needed. We cannot sit close to each other in silence. And so, today, as we approach the longest night of the year, give a few moments over to gentleness for yourself, for others, and for this weary old world that just keeps chugging along. The days will get longer. The light will return but in the meantime we must sit in the darkness and make peace with it as best we can.

It's all very odd

Today we took an hour’s drive to Didsbury to do a drop-off and a pick-up. Last year at this time we looked forward to having our Didsbury friends in our home, between Christmas and New Years, to share lunch with us. Last year, during that lunch, we talked and laughed until our cheeks hurt. This year we drove up to their house, put on our masks, opened the trunk, got out the box, walked up the sidewalk, exchanged the box we had for them for the bag they had for us, stepped back beyond 6 feet, exchanged a few sentences, smiled behind our masks, mimed hugs, wished each other Merry Christmas, got back in the car and drove home. It was a good day and, at the end of it, I’m happy and content. I have so many good people in my life and every pandemic has an end.

Late afternoon driving home

Preparing for a remote church service

Plastic barriers and masks

I’m not always content. Last week I was angry, irritated, and despairing. Those days pass and with increased perspective, I’ve been looking back on all the excitement and craziness that Christmas preparations usually bring. So often at this time of year I have raced the clock, to get the shopping done, gifts made and wrapped, food made for the numerous parties. It’s always been an enjoyable whirlwind and, this year, things are different. I’m sitting back, taking time, enjoying the quiet. I have gifts to make and some folks may end up getting IOU’s. I have food; I have shelter; I have friends; and I have the ability to connect with those friends remotely. We aren’t able to hug and Zoom is exhausting in its own way, but it’s so nice to see people smile, to laugh with them, even if it is on a screen. We can share photos too, easily and quickly so instead of going on with words, I’ll leave you with images of this unusual holiday season. May you be safe and warmed by the knowledge that we are important to each other.

So many lights

Two birds

Two mourning doves

It all started with an update to my camera. At least it was supposed to be an update. In order to move to the newest update I had to install a program so I did that. Long story short, nothing is ever simple in my relationship to technology and after checking the version of the software on my camera it said I had the latest version even though I know there have been at least two updates since then. The way I often deal with these things is to ignore them and either come back later or ask Richard for help. I went into ignore mode.

But that got me thinking that I should, perhaps, download all of the images from my SD card onto my laptop. I managed that and then decided it would be a good idea to have a look through the images that I took this year. So I started in.

When you look at images as a large group rather than in small sections you notice patterns. I found an incredible number of bird photos. Not really a surprise since that’s what most interests me. Among the sparrows, magpies, flickers, woodpeckers, and songbirds, two days and two birds stood out.

A wing stretch can be a greeting

We were camping at Little Bow Provincial Park and I noticed a mourning dove walking around in the campsite next to ours. It settled on the gravel pad and just sat for a long time. I took a few photos of it marvelling at how well camouflaged it was. I walked over towards it slowly and it didn’t move or show any sign it was aware of my presence. I went back to what I was doing and it was still there until almost dark. I didn’t see it leave.

The next day a mourning dove flew down from a tree and settled in the long grass at the edge of our campsite. Soon it was joined by another one. I got out my camera and knelt on the ground a couple of metres away. I watched the birds for a while before I picked up my camera. Again they didn’t seem at all bothered by my presence. From that moment time stood still. I talked softly to the birds as I took photo after photo. I moved closer to them. They continued to behave as if I wasn’t there. They preened, fished through the grass for food, stretched their wings, looked around and, eventually they both closed their eyes.

Contentedly preening

The sun was quite a bit lower in the sky when I realized that my legs were stiff from being on my knees and my arms were tired from holding up my camera and telephoto lens. I backed away from the birds saying a quiet thank you. I felt privileged to be so close to wild creatures and observe them as they rested.


As I went through the photographs today I felt a profound sense of calm even as I had the afternoon I watched the birds. I decided to pull together some of my favourite images of the year so I could look at them all in one spot. I plan to return to this folder on Christmas Day and probably New Year’s Eve so I can be reminded of the moments of rest that came during 2020 amid all the chaos of a global pandemic. It helps to have places to go in my imagination when I want a break from the chaos of daily life. There is a saying that chopping wood warms twice: once as you chop it and once as you burn it. The photos of the mourning doves calmed twice: once as I watched them through the lens and again when I revisited their photos on my screen. May all of us find things we can turn to when the Covid case counts rise and the world seems to have turned upside down.

One sleeps while the other watches

Inertia and Covid 19

Yesterday inertia had me in the shop sanding away until late at night. Today inertia has me sitting in front of the computer screen mindlessly scrolling through YouTube and Facebook. I did manage to take a shower shortly before noon and since then I have done little. It is a beautiful sunny day and the weather is warm. I could go for a walk. There are many things to be done in the shop and I know I’d enjoy them if I could just get myself in there. Despite the lovely weather and the blue sky and sunshine, I’m grumpy.

I also like this guy. 

Alberta had the highest number of new cases of Covid 19 in the country yesterday. IN THE COUNTRY! Higher than Ontario that has three times our population. Higher than Quebec that has twice our population. What is wrong with us? Is it selfishness: you’re not the boss of me and you can’t tell me what to do? Is it denial: I feel fine and my mother, father, sister, brother, friend, feels fine so we’ll just meet at my house for a coffee? Is it a desire to gamble: if you look at the stats only about 1% of the population has it so most of us don’t so I’ll just carry on as usual? Are there really that many of us who believe in conspiracy theories and discount science? I don’t know and it makes me tired thinking about it.

This pandemic is inconvenient. I’m not about to go wandering around the stores just to see what they’ve got. I’m not going for my weekly lutherie lesson. This is the second Christmas since I was 8 years old that I haven’t been practicing Christmas carols as part of at least one choir. I miss seeing friends in ‘3D’. I miss sharing a meal with friends. And here’s an extremely petty one: I’m getting really tired of seeing images on the news of people getting swabs stuck up their noses! But none of this is worth either catching Covid myself or being part of a chain of transmission so complex the people who are doing the tracing can no longer figure it out. So I’ve decided to do what I did my last year of teaching. I made a list of the things that I would miss and another list of the things I wouldn’t miss when I retired.  Seems to me I have a pretty good start on what I don’t like about Covid so what about what I do like?

I like not having to go anywhere after supper. I like not having to rush to appointments. I like being able to wear the same favourite clothes and not having to worry about being presentable for other people. Having less contact with people in general means I have fewer opportunities to be irritated by them. I can, after all, turn off the news. I like having uninterrupted time in the shop (once I get myself in there.) I know our neighbours better now than I have in the previous 34 years that we’ve lived here, and they are good neighbours. There are children around and, while I’m not big on little kids in general, I very much enjoy the energetic girls next door and the three kids across the alley who are a bit older. 

Yesterday the doorbell rang and when Richard went to see who it was he found a water-colour painting of a bunch of flowers in our mailbox done by the girl across the alley. We put it on the fridge.She is the same artist who painted a picture of Odie with a Santa hat and Christmas lights on her patio door. Each time I go out to shovel snow off the pad or put out the garbage I look at Santa Odie and I have to smile. I like spending time at home. 

I like having accumulated enough tools and materials that I can take on most shop projects I can think of. A couple of days ago I pulled out the pyrography set that I haven’t used for a few years in order to add detail to a project. I like having a variety of wood to work with. I’m discovering that all the trouble I was having with the scroll saw was likely due to operator error and I’m enjoying what it allows me to do if I take it slowly. Spending more time in the shop has me thinking about ways that I can rearrange it to make the most of the small space. That will be a huge undertaking but, bit by bit, I’m thinking it through.

Richard and I are pretty happy with each other’s company. We find things to laugh about. We rattle around the house occupied with our individual pursuits and then spend time at dinner and watch our YouTube favourites together. I’m grateful that I’m no longer on the front lines in the schools and I have nothing but admiration for those in health care, education and ‘essential’ jobs who don’t have the luxury of just staying home. Then there are all the parents who are trying to juggle working from home with keeping their children engaged when the children can no longer just drop over to a friend’s house after school, or participate in multiple extra-curricular and community activities. 

I do admit to wanting to slap people upside the head when they do things like move a volleyball team’s practice site from Calgary to Cochrane where measures are more lenient or lie about Covid symptoms and bring the virus into a hospital. The only way out of this is through it so may all of us be thoughtful, kind, and look after each other. Despite my crossness with people, I’m content and I need to take time to remind myself of this. I feel better now and may even go out for a walk. Thanks for reading.

Everything I know about snow shovelling I learned in the wood shop

Bevel up

 Ok this one is probably just weird so feel free to bail now.  I've long heard the expression that when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. We had a dump of snow over the last few days and today I was out shovelling the remains of it. It was about -7C according to the thermometer but it felt much warmer in the sun. So much so that once I got the top layer of snow off the thin layer closest to the sidewalk began to melt.

On my first pass I was left with harder snow that had been packed down by people walking on it. Rather than going at it again with the snow shovel in the regular orientation, I turned it over and scraped at the crusty stuff that way. It did a much better job of removing most of what was left. It's exactly the same with a chisel. Bevel down you take a finer scooping cut; bevel up you can take a heavier straighter cut. Both positions have their uses. Of course turning the snow shovel over does wear it out faster, but it's a snow shovel!  When it wears out I cut the handle off and keep it if it's made of hardwood and I get a new snow shovel. If it has a metal handle I toss the whole thing. The plastic snow shovels aren't meant to last.

Bevel down

Another similarity: when I skew the shovel I change the angle of attack just as I do when I'm using a chisel or a plane. Maybe when you're a woodworker everything looks like a piece of wood and a cutting tool.

Making bread on a snowy day

It’s Tuesday and normally I’m learning to build ukuleles on a Tuesday. To do this I drive about an hour north. Today it’s snowy and the highways are partially covered. There’s an accident on Stoney Trail so I’ve decided to stay home. That’s the wonderful thing about being retired: nobody is depending on me to make my way through the snow. The roads probably aren’t that bad and, no doubt, I’ve driven in worse but it’s fabulous that now, I simply don’t have to. There are challenges to growing older and there are also great opportunities.

So what am I doing with my bonus day at home? I thought I’d spend every moment in the shop and then I got sidetracked. Wouldn’t it be a good day to bake bread and have the house infused with that smell that was an ever-present one as I grew up? We could buy bread and sometimes do. We both love it and tend to eat way too much of it so we mostly ignore the temptation to buy. The same goes for a bread machine. We have had two. They were wonderful and it was way too easy to make bread that came out flawless every time - well most times, unless you forget to put the paddle in which results in a burned stack of ingredients when you get home and expect a lovely light loaf of bread to have with chili for supper. In an effort to eat less bread and other carbohydrates we gave the machine away about six years ago.

With the onset of Covid we are looking not only for comfort food but also for comfort smells and activities. When I lived in Banff I baked all my own bread. It was a calming thing to do on snowy weekends when I didn’t have to go into work. It also helped to warm up the draughty suite which had only a gas heater in the living room. Mind you, near the gas heater was a great place to set the bread to rise. 

Mum used to put hers over one of the heat registers.I’m not sure I’ve found the ideal place to raise bread so, for the moment, it sits on the counter. With a convection oven and quick-rise yeast making bread doesn’t take nearly as long as it used to and every once in a while I make a couple of loaves. As so often happens I just thought I’d check Google to see what was new in baking pans. The ones I inherited work very well and I’m sure they were in service before I was born. Somehow the loaves I’m making don’t seem to fill the pans as much as I’d like them to. I was wondering if there were slightly smaller pans available. And down the rabbit hole I go.

crust is a bit dark (tastes good though)

There are all sorts of bread pans available most of them the same size as the ones I have. There are steel bread pans with no coating, silicone pans that need no coating, aluminum pans with non-stick coating, bread pans with lids (why would you need a lid), and bread pans that make 4 mini-loaves in a single pan. Or, I could just form the bread into a round loaf and throw it in the oven. We have to be very careful about non-stick coatings, most of which are toxic to birds if they get overheated. Much as I threaten Odie with the soup-pot from time to time, I’d hate for anything to happen to him. So today I’m not buying any new bread pans and the bread is rising in the heirloom pans as have so many loaves before it. Maybe the next time I’ll make a round loaf or a baguette-shaped loaf. For today, it’s two mostly whole-wheat loaves.I’ll experiment with slightly longer rising times and other places to set the bread to rise. The texture of the bread has been dense but not overly so for whole wheat. I’d like to try sourdough again but hesitate because you have to feed it and use it regularly and we really don’t need to eat that much bread. Still the idea is intriguing. Stay tuned.

A different sort of lunch date

Alberta hit a high in terms of new Covid cases today (406)and with that we get closer to increased restrictions. I was thinking of what I miss and don’t miss about life before Covid. I don’t miss the busyness. Even a retired person can run around frantically trying to do too many things. I very much like staying home in the evenings especially now that the weather has turned wintery. During the summer we enjoyed the occasional yard visit either here or at friends’. That’s not going to be happening now for a while so I guess I’ll be putting in a bit more Zoom and Skype time. I do miss eating out. It’s a chance to get out of the house, have someone else do the cooking and the clean-up, and just chat with each other. While restaurants are open for in-person dining, we haven’t felt comfortable going into a restaurant and with the case numbers on the rise we won’t be going anytime soon. So what do we do instead?


Mostly we get take-out and eat it at home. Today Richard suggested that we get take-out and eat lunch somewhere with a view. We ate our Vietnamese subs in the car at the top of Battalion Park. Even though I managed to get sauce on my down jacket, I enjoyed watching the cars come and go on the newly-opened south part of the ring road and the familiar shopping centre looks very different from above. I think we will have to make a concerted effort this winter to do different things or to do things differently. Who knows, I may even be seized by an attack of tidiness and systematically deal with the various nooks and crannies in the house where overlooked stuff has taken up residence. I know some of you are laughing at that possibility and, if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath. Still, these are unprecedented times and unprecedented things happen in unprecedented times. I’ll keep you posted.

A bit of excitement

Today was an exciting day. Well, no, that’s not quite true. I got excited today about an idea. One of the things I loved about teaching was getting together with other teachers and planning. Someone would have an idea and someone else would build on it. Then someone else would tweak it and so it would go. I love that kind of stuff but there hasn’t been very much of it in my retired life and, particularly with Covid 19 causing me to be less mobile, I confess to getting a lot of my mental stimulation from YouTube. Of course, there is a lot of interesting content there and also a ton of crap. Yesterday I decided I was wasting time looking deeper and deeper into my feed trying to find something interesting instead of just shutting down the computer and going and DOING something interesting. YouTube and Facebook are a bit like playing the slots but that’s for another post.

In 2013 and 2014 I became fascinated by mandalas and even provoked the tendon in my arm because I did so much work with coloured pencils. After a while I didn’t draw mandalas anymore. I still liked them but other things took my time. I decided to fish out the coloured pencils and have another go. I got started on a mandala design and enjoyed it just as much as when I worked at them before, but making mandalas isn’t the reason I got so excited.

As you know I’m learning to build ukuleles and as Jake and I work together more we find that we spontaneously build on each other’s ideas. I travel once a week to work with him and in between times we often text about what we’re up to. This morning Jake sent me a text of his work space commenting that it was messy. Well, my bench in the shop is relatively tidy at this moment but my desk is another story. I have the huge box of coloured pencils taken apart and spread over the desk. There are pencils, erasers and various drawing tools to complete the chaos. I decided to send Jake a photo of my mess.

He commented that the mandala sitting in the centre of the mess would make a great design for an instrument's sound hole. Since I blend two or three colours in each of the segments, I didn’t see how it would be possible to replicate the mandala or part of it using traditional inlay techniques and I dismissed it - for about 2 minutes. Then I got to wondering, what if I designed a mandala-like circle to go around the sound hole, coloured it with coloured pencils and used epoxy over top to seal it and to give enough thickness so it could be sanded along with the instrument’s top. The card stock I use is fairly substantial and acid-free. I think my set of pencils is of archival quality and if they’re not I know I can buy ones that are.

First attempt

I was off on a rush of possibilities. It’s not the traditional way to make rosettes but it’s still original art. Each one would be unique. What fun it would be to have all those colours at my fingertips when making a design to go around the sound hole! I left the original mandala and started to play with circles about the size of the sound hole in a tenor uke. It’s easier to start bigger and figure out some of the logistics, then I can adapt to smaller sound holes. I decided to use warm colours because they are not as common as the greens and blues of the shell traditionally used in inlay work and I wanted to emphasize, in my own mind if nothing else, the difference between what I was doing and what is traditionally done. I ended up introducing some cooler colours and I don’t much like the first attempt. I’ll let the ideas percolate for a couple of days and then try again. In the meantime I can experiment with an epoxy coating on the first one. I think we can find a way to get this to work and I’m pretty excited about the possibilities. Stay tuned.

Reading over the blog books

During our first camping trip this year and in a peaceful setting, I reread all of my blog posts in book form. I’m happy to say that they weren’t too cringe-worthy. There were more errors than I would have liked but I knew that was going to happen. A strange quirk of the formatting means that sometimes there is no space at the end of a sentence. Some of that may be my sloppy keyboarding but even that doesn’t adequately explain the frequency of the quirk. Some of the pictures aren’t the ones I would have chosen for a full-page spread, and again, that’s the result of choices made by the program as it translates blog posts into books. I’m prepared to live with it.

I’m relieved that there is less repetition that I anticipated, although I never again get to say that the only serious mistake is one from which you learn nothing. I counted that particular phrase in three separate places. I was pleased with the books as a record of the day-to-day events since I retired. It is much more concise than my regular journal and it is easier to find things. I can see doing one of these books every year or two so Richard and I can have them as a reference. It was fun looking back on the travelling we have done and it was nice to be able to put dates to particular holidays. Sometimes I remember the year of a holiday and sometimes I don’t. If you don’t mind the errors, making a book from a blog is much easier than creating a photo book from scratch. Maybe I’ll just have to do a better job of proofreading as I go.

Hike to Larch Valley

Recently we hiked into Larch Valley. We’ve been there a couple of times before but that was probably about 30 years ago. On the last occasion we hiked up Sentinel Pass and down through Paradise Valley. We had no desire to even start the climb toward the pass on this trip. I would have to say that I was one of the more ancient folks doing the hike. The trail was busy but it wasn’t even close to wall-to-wall people. There were many groups of people probably in the 20-30 year-old range. There were a fair number of folks with dogs and one person had a cat on a leash. She was on her way up carrying the cat when we were on our way down. There were several couples with small children and the kids were climbing up the trail with the seriousness of seasoned hikers. There was a couple with an old dog who were going about the same pace as I was and, judging by the hair colour of both of them, they were my age or possibly a bit older.

While I don’t want to go back to being a different age, I do admit to a tiny twinge of jealousy as the younger people passed us chatting without being out of breath and quickly disappearing around bends in the trail. I can remember being able to walk quickly and being a bit impatient with people who were making slow, steady progress up a trail. It’s taking me a while but I’m learning to start out slowly and at a pace I can keep. I’d love to rush off from the trailhead with enthusiasm but that only means that I end up tired, cranky, and gasping at which point the enjoyment is gone. So I go slowly and step aside to let people pass while my hiking companions kindly adapt to my pace.

We noticed one young woman carrying two camera bodies and remarked on her dedication as she passed us. When we got up to the lake, where the trail to the pass takes off, we saw her again. One of her hiking companions stood against the grey blue of the rocks and the yellow of the larches in a sleeveless maroon gown. Turns out she and her fiance were there to have engagement photos taken. I admire their creativity and fortitude since it was a little on the chilly side. Still, the photographer and the couple seemed to be enjoying themselves and I couldn’t help wishing that in 20 or 30 years they will be able to look back on this day with great fondness. 

At home after the hike I was tired and a bit stiff and the larches were past their brilliant best; nevertheless, it was worth getting up at 6:30 a.m. to catch the shuttle at Lake Louise. It was worth the fogged up glasses from wearing a mask on the bus. It was worth carrying the extra layers of clothing even though I didn’t need to wear them and, most of all, it was worth the effort of climbing up into the valley so we could spend the day with friends in the mountains among the larches while whiskey jacks and ravens looked on.

Some of my favourite camping gear

We haven’t been camping as much in the past couple of years so this year I’m delighted to be out for more than a week. It isn’t the same as travelling across Canada to the East Coast or to Vancouver Island or to Yukon and the Northwest Territories. With Covid 19 this summer it’s just nice to be away from the city and in a situation where it’s not difficult to maintain physical distance.

Despite the fact that we have a large water tank in the van we’ve always travelled with a five-gallon blue water jug. We tend to spend as much time outside as we can and that jug allows us to have a source of drinking and cooking water on the picnic table right next to where we are working. When it’s the dead of winter I sometimes escape by reading about various camping hacks. One of the ones I found was to take a jug that detergent comes in and use it as a hand-washing station. I’ve been saving such a jug for a couple of years and this is the first time we’ve brought it and used it. It works well. Pushing the little red button is easier than turning the stopper on the blue jug and it stops immediately when you release the bulb. Using those two portable water sources helps us to extend the time between filling the van’s tank. At night the two jugs sit between the seats in the cab out of the way.

Another much-appreciated piece of kit is the shelter that goes over the picnic table. it saved our bacon in 2014 when we were hiding out from the tail end of a hurricane. It kept the rain off, extended our living area, and allowed us to cook outside. We have a two burner stove in the van and find it is much more convenient to cook and eat outside whenever we can. There is more space and better scenery. There are a few pin holes in the roof of the shelter that I’ve patched with hockey tape and six years on it’s holding up fine. Not really expensive when you amortize the cost over a number of years. It does take up quite a bit of space in the van though.

Last summer when we were out camping we had to return to the city because we forgot Richard’s coffee. At home he has an espresso machine which he loves. Somehow coffee grounds in a melitta filter with hot water poured over them just isn’t the same. I went looking for other solutions and found an aeropress and a manual coffee grinder. It delights me to see Richard happily grinding his favourite beans and enjoying his two cups of coffee in the morning.

Another delight is a pair of solar-powered, blow-up, lights. I think I got them at Lee Valley. You let the air out during the day and set them somewhere that they can charge in the sun. At night you can hang them up and they give a nice warm light and are certainly bright enough to read by. The van has LED lights that are slightly colder in colour temperature so we often use the blow up lights which are homier. They weigh hardly anything and will substitute for a flashlight as well.

Perhaps the best gear we have is our sleeping bags. We bought them to hike the Chilkoot seven years ago and they are so light and so comfortable that we sometimes forgo the quilts we have at home and sleep instead in our sleeping bags. I know it’s weird but until we can get a comforter that is even close in comfort to these bags, we’ll continue to use them for more than camping in the summer. They are mummy bags and we’ve found it is very comfortable to leave the bags unzipped and throw them over top of us like a duvet. The bags have the extra advantage of a pocket for your feet.

Another acquisition for the Chilkoot hike was a jetboil stove. It isn’t great for cooking four-course meals but it is fantastic for boiling water. We have a dedicated box that holds the jetboil, the coffee and tea, the sparker (the internal sparker on the jetboil no longer works) and the milk which we take out of the fridge just before R makes the morning hot drinks. Then we sit out and watch the squirrels, crows and songbirds go about their business as we start our day. We’ve debated getting rid of the jetboil because we don’t need it but we’ve decided that it is so handy and efficient that we’ll hang onto it. Knowing that we can boil water easily and quickly also gives me a sense of security when the wind blows the rain in.

Although I’m not within cell phone range at the moment I’m writing this on a portable keyboard connected via bluetooth to my phone. It seems to be quite satisfactory. The keyboard is easy to use and we can either charge our phones using the recreational battery in the van or using a power brick which is a new addition to our travel gear. We charged it when we were home and have yet to use up all the juice despite repeated charging of our phones. Of course, if we’re in a campground with power, we're all set.

I’d be truly neglectful if I didn’t mention my hiking boots. Having suffered through years of blisters while breaking in boots, it was an absolute delight to order boots online a week before the trip and have them arrive two days before we left. Even better, they fit from the moment I put them on and I’ve had no blisters. One day we hiked 12km and yesterday we hiked 14 km, hardly world record distances but long enough to make me want to take a rest day today and to appreciate my new boots. I hope they will last as long and take me to as many interesting places as the Keens did.

I’m sure there are other pieces of gear that deserve to be in this post although I can’t think of what they are at the moment. I’ll stop here and quietly appreciate them as they come to mind. What a privilege to be able to be so comfortable in the outdoors.

Bill's last hike

 August 23, 2020, six months since the world changed as a result of Covid 19. At the moment I’m in a campground in the East Kananaskis. We've been here a week. It’s an OHV campground (off highway vehicle I didn't know what that stood for) campground and the trails run right past our campsite. Since nobody is going far this year, there has been a run on campground reservations. This was the only reservation we could get for more than a couple of days so we took it.

One of the main reasons we wanted to come out this summer was to scatter Bill’s ashes in the mountains. We’ve talked many times about making this trip and when we did the hike it was a very hot, but very beautiful day with a blue sky and views of the mountains to the west. We knew the meadow we wanted, lots of wildflowers in the spring and an unbroken view of the mountains. We found some shade under a tree and had our lunch. Down the hill there was a very healthy-looking juniper bush. It was a fitting place, protected from the winds that sweep the hillside, with a view through the trees that grow taller each year. When we first began coming to the meadow, there were hardly any trees. Now there is a scattering and they are taller than I am.

In the grand scheme of things, it may not matter what happens to our ashes, but it gave us peace and a sense of finality to return Bill to the mountains that he loved and that he taught us to also love. It pleased us to know that he would have approved of the place his final hike ended.

Marian vs. PL 400

Ok so let’s talk about Goof Off. Not goofing off because we all know about that. Goof Off is a nasty chemical used to remove goo and I’ve been using it liberally lately. We’ve been noticing for a couple of years that the non-stick treads were coming off the running boards on the camper van. This year I got fed up and pulled them the rest of the way off, thinking it would be a simple matter to replace the worn ones with new ones.

I found, what I thought was, the perfect rubber mat material. I very carefully cleaned off the old adhesive using WD40 and judiciously scraping at it with a putty knife. The process turned out very nicely and I was left with fairly clean and shiny fiberglass running boards. Having just been introduced to the wonders of construction adhesive on the recent baseboard project, I thought that would be the perfect way to stick down the new rubber mats.

I squirted a liberal amount onto the running boards and pressed the mats down. I duct-taped the mats so they would hold until the glue cured. I stood back and admired my work. The new mats looked fabulous and I was sure we were set for our upcoming camping trip.

When I went out the next morning the mats weren’t nice and flat the way I had left them the night before. They were kind of buckled where they wrapped over the edge. On closer inspection they weren’t really stuck down at all. The adhesive had stuck to the fiberglass but not to the rubber. Notice, in the photo, that the duct tape is the only thing holding the mat on.

You know how English teachers were always telling you to read the directions? Well I should have read all of the directions. In the fine print near the bottom was a little sentence explaining that the adhesive didn’t stick to some types of rubber.  Ok, I’ve now confirmed the truth of that statement. No problem, I thought. Although I was a little bit annoyed at my lack of foresight I figured I would just go at the adhesive with more WD40 and elbow grease and the running boards would be back in condition in no time. Then I could experiment with other means of sticking down the mats. I went at the dry, crusty adhesive with the WD40 and a putty knife. Let’s just say it wasn’t as co-operative as the last adhesive had been even though the mess looked similar. Right, so we went camping with crusty running boards and I took the putty knife and the WD40 with me.

One afternoon when we were sitting around camp, I tried again to get rid of the dried goop. I worked away at it until supper time and didn’t make much headway. I decided to leave it until we got back into internet land where I could do further research.

Who knew that I would be down a rabbit hole where fiberglass boats and corvettes lurked? The short answer to what I learned about the best way to remove construction adhesive is not to put it on something from which you’ll eventually want to remove it. I was reminded of canoeing days when some wiseguy said the best way to dry out a sleeping bag was not to get it wet. However, some of the suggestions were truly entertaining as I moved from construction adhesive specifically to how to remove decals. I never thought I could watch so many hours of people scrubbing, blotting and scraping. Some folks swore by petroleum jelly. Nope. Someone else said Crisco shortening. Didn’t try that one. Coconut oil was another one. Already tried mineral oil and I didn’t want to waste good peanut butter. One oil probably behaved much like another in this application. Magic Eraser was another suggestion. Nada. 

Another method that ranked highly for sticker removal was a wheel eraser. It’s some kind of synthetic disk that you chuck into a power drill and, like an eraser, it erodes and takes the gum and guck with it. I ordered one. Another very popular method was to use a heat gun. I have a heat gun. The only issue, for me, was that some of the sources I read said that fiberglass can soften at 212 degrees F and in order to strip paint, and I assume soften adhesive, you need a temperature of 300F. I’m a chicken when it comes to the possibility of igniting anything and I couldn’t bring myself to crank up the temperature on the heat gun to any more than 200F even though I told myself that I would keep the gun moving and that if the air coming out of the tip was 200F the fiberglass wouldn’t likely reach that temperature very readily. The heat may have softened the goop a little bit but there was still a lot of scraping and some gouging of the gel coat on the running boards that happened. 

Then there were the stronger chemical solutions. De-Solv-It seemed popular. I couldn’t find it locally and I didn’t want to wait for it. Goo Gone got mixed reviews. Goof Off got good reviews in all the YouTube videos I watched. When I came in cursing under my breath, Richard went on a mission to get Goof Off, heavy vinyl gloves, and scrub pads. I started in as instructed by soaking a rag in Goof Off and then rubbing at the adhesive. That did almost nothing. I remembered seeing one video where the guy just poured the stuff onto the surface and then scraped up the goop. I poured and discovered that the adhesive did soften and it was easier to scrape off as long as the adhesive was wet. There was still a problem with the really thick bits of goop.

Today I got fed up and took the palm sander to it. I’d already gouged the gel coat in several places and, although the Goof Off worked, my patience for sitting and scraping for hours on end had just about run out. I started with 150 grit sandpaper which took some of it off. Then I thought I’d try 80 grit paper. That worked more quickly but also chewed through the gel coat more easily.

Once I knocked down the highest peaks of goo I switched back to the 150, then to 220. I was able to get the running board pretty much levelled with the 220 so I went back to the Goof Off. I’m officially calling the removal part of the process done. The running boards aren’t pretty anymore and I’m probably going to have to do a little creative painting to cover up the gouges. In the meantime, Richard found and bought some anti-slip tape which is supposed to be permanent and which he thinks is what was on the running boards when we bought the van. We know from experience it’s not permanent but if it sticks I’m really hoping that by the time it starts to peel it will be a problem for the van’s next owner! Perhaps by the end of the week we’ll have the tape on the running boards and the scratches and gouges covered in a new coat of paint. One can always hope.

Camping at McLean Creek

In the summer of Covid 19 (and please let there be only one) we are not straying far from home. We are camping for just over a week and we are about 45 minutes from our front door. No matter. We are out here with the birds and the squirrels and we are close enough to run home for groceries and a shower. Why not? We’ve done some decent hikes that are new to us and some that we’ve hiked many times before.

Certain things are constant when we’re camping and one of those is the kettle I remember as a kid on camping trips. It’s light, has a wooden knob and handle, and has been with us on the Chilkoot Pass and in all of the camper vans we’ve owned. We could get a more elegant one, or a smaller more compact one but this one with all its dings has a history. Another item that has a history is the sparker R sometimes uses to light the stove. It has a knurled wheel and tiny flints that can be replaced when one wears down enough so that it no longer functions. We have two of these and I’m not sure where they came from. We also have BBQ lighters and good old-fashioned wooden matches.

Some things are relatively new to us with our current camper van. Among the most appreciated conveniences is the toilet. Neither of our other two camper vans had one and before that we camped in a two-person tent. We also have a water heater and a furnace both which are delightful when the weather turns chillier as it has in the last day or so. We started out the trip in +30 degree heat and we were doing everything we could to keep cool. The little propane fridge was working really hard to keep our food cold and we had all the curtains in the van closed and a reflector set up in the front windshield to keep the temperature down during the day.

Today the weather is more like fall. I’m sitting in a light fleece and my toes in the crocs are a wee bit chilly despite the wool socks. The sky is overcast and the air is still. R is reading a book that he managed to download last night overnight. We also have a few physical books with us. Neither of us is very ambitious on this Sunday. We had the alarm set for 6:30 and intended to get up and hike. Don’t laugh, we actually managed it yesterday. We had a very nice hike and were home and in the shade by 2:00 pm. I will grudgingly admit that there are some advantages to getting up and getting on the trails early.

On yesterday’s hike we saw a ruffed grouse. Richard noticed some movement beside the path and saw at least two birds. One of the birds hopped into the path, looked at us, and cheeped a bit while we talked to her and slowly, led by the bird, proceeded in the way we were going. She eventually hopped off to the opposite side of the path and then stood on a fallen log looking at us. I told her how beautiful she was and asked if I could take her picture. The answer was, “Not today,” and as i reached for my phone she turned her back and headed off into the bush. Richard already had his phone out and he got a picture of her as she turned away. We carried on and she, presumably, went back to her chicks.

We found a spot to eat that had a good view of the opposite hillside and watched as a few mountain bikers made their way up and down the trail. We were on a mountain bike trail and that made me a bit nervous at first. The bikers weren’t going that fast and, despite the fact that they were quiet, we had time to see them and step off the trail to let them pass. Walking those trails brought home to me that mountain biking would be, for me, an absolute nightmare. I’d be struggling to breathe going uphill and 99% terrified going downhill. While R said it looked like fun I won’t be taking up that sporty anytime soon!

We brought wood from home and most nights we’ve had a fire. Bill’s axe that I rehung at the end of last season, has been tested out and found to be satisfactory. Now I need to hang Dad’s axe which has a slightly smaller head and is better for splitting kindling. I don’t have a new handle or I could work on it here. I think I’ll do a better job having done one in the reasonably recent past.

The rubber treads on the van have, so far, defeated me. I spent a couple of days chipping and scraping the PL 400 that adhered very well to the fiberglass of the steps and not at all well to the rubber of the new mats. I’ll try using a heat gun to soften the adhesive when I get home. I’m afraid the steps will never look as good as they did when I was preparing them for their new rubber treads. In trying to remove the adhesive, I’ve damaged the gelcoat in places. I hope I’ll be able to get enough adhesive off that I’ll have a surface the mats will stick to. I’ll definitely scuff up the backs of the mats before I put them down this time and, I hope, that by the time the mats need to be next replaced Vinnie will be in the hands of a different owner!

This is a bit of a ramble and my phone, on which I’m writing this is down to 17% so I’d better call it quits for the moment and plug in.I can charge the phone from the recreational battery in the van, another advantage of having a van as a camping vehicle. Getting this text into Blogger may be a whole adventure of it’s one but I’ll take it one step at a time. At least I can write when I feel like it and I can use a keyboard, so much more successful than writing it out by hand. Perhaps by the next time we travel I’ll have a system that works and I’ll be able to do regular blog entries on the way even if I have to wait until the end of the trip to upload them. It’s all part of the adventure.

No Covid here

           

           

We have a lovely basement but I’m very glad I can now roam the rest of the house at will. The Covid test was negative. I may put down some thoughts about the last couple of days that were so very different than I’m used to, but right now I’m heading upstairs, into the shop, outside and anywhere else I feel like wandering. Thanks for all of your support. I’m so glad this turned out to be a tempest in a tea cup.

   

       

  Today is our 34th wedding anniversary. I don’t remember what we’ve done on many of those anniversaries but I’m betting I won’t forget this one. I’m in the basement; Richard is upstairs, and I need to stay here for another two to four days until the results of the Covid test I took this afternoon come back. I haven’t been anywhere to catch Covid 19 and neither has Richard. We did have a bout with what we suspect was food that had turned rather nasty. We don’t know exactly what to blame it on but both of us were affected. Richard got over the discomfort by the next morning. I had aches, no energy and a slight fever so I slept most of the day yesterday. We were supposed to sing a duet in church this morning. When I wasn’t back to normal by dinner time last night, I decided to do the responsible thing: I retired to the basement, booked a Covid test and let the church folks know that the duet had become a solo. In normal times I’d shrug, hope I felt better in the morning and get on with it. I’m guessing many of us won’t be taking that approach again for a long time if ever. 

Because I had a bit of a fever, I got an appointment for a test within 24 hours. There wasn’t much of a lineup at the testing site and I’m grateful they are doing a throat swab now rather than what I’m told feels like a brain swab via the nasal passages. Now I wait. The last symptom, a headache, finally gave up early this afternoon and I feel fine. This whole thing is a bit of in inconvenience. I’ve had nothing on the calendar for weeks and then in one week I have three or four things all in a row. No matter, I’ve long since learned that the world does not turn according to my convenience, much as I sometimes wish it would. I think we will probably celebrate our 34^th anniversary by eating take-out on the lawn at least six feet apart. When it comes right down to it, I can think of many worse ways to celebrate. I’m pretty sure I don’t have Covid. The adventure continues.

Consistently inconsistent

I have a thing about books. I like them. Even though these days, I prefer to buy books in either audio or electronic format, I still have a whole room full of books. I keep getting rid of books and, somehow, the shelves still overflow. I’m not especially attached to the feel of a book in my hands or the smell of it when I’m reading so I surprised myself when I ordered two books that ought to have been on my ‘no no’ list for two reasons.

            First, they are physical books and I already have the information digitally. I sometimes will buy a digital book and then if I really like it and want to write all over it, I’ll buy a hard copy. This happens mostly with cookbooks. Second, they fall into the category of vanity publishing which, I’ve been taught, no self-respecting writer will touch with a ten-foot pole. Oh well.

I’ve been writing this blog for twelve years now and the other day I got to thinking how nice it would be to have all the blog posts in one place – one physical place.  I wondered if there was a way to turn my blog posts into a book. There is, and, as the old joke goes, it’s easy but not cheap. Several websites will load blog entries, turn them into a book and then ship the completed book to you. This really appealed to me and I see the irony. I freely admit to viewing most of my photos online and hardly ever looking at the photo albums I do have, yet I still wanted my blog posts in a book. I mentioned the idea to Richard who asked if I would like that as a birthday present.

I sat with the idea for a while. I looked at a few sites, selected the one the offered the largest format, hardcover books and loaded the blog address into the site. Then I previewed my two-volume book and Richard got out his credit card. Because the process is automated you don’t get a lot of choice as to format, and that suits me fine. I want a record of my posts, but I don’t want to spend a whole lot of time making choices about format or photos. The books are as the posts are, complete with errors, repetition, and low-quality photos. They will be my scrapbook of important thoughts and events and they need please no one but me.  I think I will refer to them often and enjoy flipping through the pages for specific information or just for the fun of it. Sometimes books have sentimental value and that’s okay.

One stitch at a time

            I spent the last two days sewing. As I’ve said here before, not on my list of favourite things. This time wasn’t so bad. I put on an audio book and determined that I was going to work on the pile of mending, hemming, and mask-making until I was done.  I’m not, but I have made 5 more cloth masks. I’ve washed the new pants I bought  so they are ready to turn up and I’m going to finally get to the work pants that have been sitting in the basket for over a year waiting for me to take two inches off the legs. I sewed the binding back on the fleece blanket where it was coming off and, I’m gaining respect for my sewing machine as I put it through some pretty thick layers of material. I was impressed with how long I could go without refilling the bobbin. I think the difference this time was that I set myself up for the long haul. Usually when I sit down to sew, I want to get it done as fast as possible so I can get onto other things I like better. I resent every minute spent at the machine. The audio book definitely helped as did rewatching the YouTube video on how to make the masks.

            Another thing that was different this time was that I gave myself permission to take short-cuts. I put pencil marks on the fabric. They might or might not wash out and it really doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I used black thread on grey fabric because that’s what I had in the machine. The masks will work regardless of the colour of the thread and whether or not there are pencil marks. I don’t own an ironing board and I don’t need one. A couple of sawhorses with a board  between them and a fleece blanket on top work just fine. When it comes to turning up the pants, I’ll try to do a decent job but mostly I’ll be wearing them in the shop anyway. Small decisions can make the difference between doing a job and not even starting it.

 I guess, for the moment at least, I’ve found some patience with sewing. It’s never going to be my favourite indoor sport but it’s a useful thing to be able to do and I will enjoy not looking at a heaping  'Sew Me' box every time I go to do the laundry. I’m not sure how many days it will take to work through the box as I'm not a quick worker. I’m anticipating a mini celebration when I can finally wear the mended running cap and the work pants that have been sitting there for so long. I'll get through the pile one stitch at a time.