Wrack Zone Break Away Event

... sunrise at Arbutus Cove ...

The choice for the Friday afternoon session of the Wrack Conference was a trip to the Royal British Columbia Museum, a bus ride around de-colonized Victoria, or a walk up Mt. Pkols.

I selected the middle choice. 

How interesting does that sound? 

A ride and a story told as I look through the windows of a bus riding up and down the streets of Victoria.

 But that was trip cancelled so I opted for a walk up Mt. Pkols, with a little bit of hesitation on my side. Rebecca took on the job of meeting the people who walked Mt Pkols (formerly known as Mt Douglas) at the top of the hill to tell the story of the renaming of that site.

She was adamant that she didn’t have time to walk up again, but she would meet people up at the top with her car.

The walk would be good for me, but that last time I took it, she walked along side me. There are some points along the way where I need to just put one finger on the side of someone for balance. I should probably purchase those walking sticks which would work for the same purpose.

...  a small stream making its way through the Wrack Zone ...

She dropped me off with the group of people at the bottom of the hill. In fact she took the first part of the walk, for we went down to the ocean to see that part of the Wrack Zone.

I was curious about the water, for the guide told us that what we were seeing was the Salish Sea.

How many times have I read that in a book, but never felt the reality of the water there.

I was curious about the barnacles on the stones, more there than I had seen at our little Arbutus Cove.

The Mt Pkols area is a site where the salmon come on their journey to spawn. People want to know why the huge logs are left at the edge of the beach. Couldn’t they be taken away to aid the salmon on their journey?

... the rack of a deer beside some sea weed ...

“The logs float up when the tide come in; the salmon swim under the logs and go upstream. The otters are prevented from following, since the space there is too small for them to slip through.” For me a storied journey at the sea side is more fun.

... two crows at Arbutus beach ...
... well, 3 counting me ...

Three guides from The Friends of Mt Pkols were at the base of the mountain, one of them saying that he would take one group up the trail that showed how stream reclamation had been going on. Two thirds of the people wanted to go in that group. They didn’t wait for the pitch from the other two guides. Off that group went with our guide saying telling us that he would show us amazing things deep in the forest. My left leg hasn’t got the strength it used to have. The spare guide (Claude, a retired architect who has been with the “friends” group from the early ‘90’s) told me he would give me a hand in those places that might be difficult so I joined those who walked up the mountain.

The walk goes through three growing zones: the Douglas Fir, the arbutus and the Gerry oak zones. I should have said the first zone is through the towering Douglas fir zone. I have to touch someone’s shoulder when I look up, since the look is up and then tossing my head way back before I can even see where the limbs of the fir tree start.

Balance.

... the sun glints off of the water ..

That is the key. The size of the boles of the tree seems gigantic to a prairie person like me. The people in this group are asking questions about the ecology, environment, biology, geography, all of them are making their livelihoods in these fields so the questions are quick and detailed. Our young guide tells us he knows only a little about a lot of things. I think he is good in the forest. He stops to name all of the birds whose habitat this is. Then he talks about the animals, telling people to notice that the deer aren’t here. They like the meadows and gardens of the people in Victoria more than having to work to get a meal on the mountain.

That makes me laugh for people in Victoria have to drive slowly. They are likely to see at least one or two deer on any journey, and none of these animals use the cross-walks, so they may be in front of you at any minute, with two of the tinniest fawn I have ever seen, trailing along behind.

He points to a depression in the walk just to the side of us calling it a vernal pool. Others seem to know what he is talking about, but I have to ask. I want to see the camus under the Gerry oak, but he explains they are like tulips. After they flower, the foliage goes away, but he says he will show me a meadow of them on the way up, if he remembers. When the hike is over, someone asks him, “Didn’t we pass a camus meadow. I was wanting to see one as well.”

I needed Claude’s help a couple of times. He remarks to me, “You aren’t needing much help. You only seem to need the gentlest touch of my hand to go over some of these ridges.”

 He is right, but I still need that. He remarks on how I can quickly scramble over many of the ledges. 

“Yes, I am a mountain goat,” I say, and then I bleat.

 That makes the person behind him laugh and say, I was thinking the same thing. That person is behind us because someone along the way has had to stop for a panic attack. That can happen in the mountains when not knowing where you are going, or wondering where the trail gets steeper.

We stop to look out over the Salish Sea again taking note of an island that is contested right now. The island belonged to the Nation that is close by it. Even knowing that, the government sold it in a private sale. Now it is up for sale again, and the Nation is asking for the government to return it. Goggle tells us which nation we are talking about. There is an answer to every question along the trail.

... the tide begins to recede ...

At the top both groups meet Rebecca who tells how this mountain was renamed, and then send people up one last stop to the highest pinnacle where there is a 360 degree view, the mountains of Washington so close on one side, and the UVic Campus stands out on the other side.

Rebecca gets in conversation with a classmate whom she hasn’t seen since they were in law school together. The woman recognizes Rebecca’s voice as she speaks.

 Reconnection was good for both woman.

 The hike up Pkols was good for 2 groups of conference go-ers.

Arta

A handful enough for a bag

Betty had three small balls in one hand.

She has just turned 3, so it is easy to imagine how really small those balls were.

Previous to her carrying these around all three children had been in my room and on a low chest of drawer with a mirror above it there was a ball.

A small rubber bouncy ball which they took turns trying to drop and catch.

This wasn’t one of those balls that you have to power down on it.

Just a small drop will let it bounce to about their eye line. That was fun, really, the task of taking turns.

No one wants to wait for that third place of taking turns, but Betty did.

Her life doesn’t seem to have the same urgency that the others feels.

At any rate, a while later I saw her carrying three small balls in her hand, and she had three stuffies crunched under her other arm.

I have a small bag in my room just made for the purpose of carrying toys around.

I convinced her that putting everything in the bag was a good idea.

 Then she found a small watering can.

I have no idea why someone would make a toy that only carry ½ a cup of water in it.

Whom do they think is going to keep filling that watering can until the earth is wet under some plants.

Betty and me sticking dolls into the handles of
some wicker chests.

Into the bag it went, along with a larger watering can that we found.

When the bag was full she slung it over her arm, which really made me laugh.

Betty is adorable.  If I say, Betty, you are adorable, she replies with a scowl, "No, I'm Betty."

I was sitting by my computer and she dragged the Barbie Doll Suitcase to stand beside me where we played Barbies for a while.  She mostly dialogued the play and I occasionally chimed in, telling the doll what else to do. That case is really a rolling computer bag so I showed her the hidden handle, a great surprise for her.  Then she roll off to some other space in the house.

Arta

Prunus Pennsylvanica

... our first breakfast tat the lake ...

I had to come home from the lake and look for the other names of pin cherries. Connor calls them wild cherries. Now I see that they are called Bird Cherries, Fire Cherries and Prunus Pennsylvanica to go all Latin on the product.

Michael and I found two or three trees of them as we were exploring the beach today, that wonderful place I now know as the wrack zone. Yes, there were pieces of metal washed up and a plastic bag and a bleached but still red sand pail.

And stunningly beautiful driftwood. I kept hiding it behind long logs, as though fearing that someone might coe and take it. I think I will keep my eye open for something to keep my jewellery on, though I had better take measurements before I go down to the beach. I know that I can imagine something as taking far less room than it actually does when I get it back to my place.

We walked along the roadway that crosses the tracks to its very end. There is some wonderful latticed bentwood work there, tied to keep its shape, now detritus washed up from a storm. Michael guess that it was a sundial, but I think it was a little to big for that, being at least 3 feet by 4 feet. We walked by the outhouse, discreetly painted forest green and hidden back in the trees. Michael had to take a look inside.

When I am on the flat space where we used to pitch the 12 person tents that belonged to the Bates (and sleep in them), I could see that all of the work making trails there paid off. We walked across the little brook to the west. Someone has put a 2 by 4 across the water which made passage easy for me. Michael just leaped across the stream. I stopped before crossing to see if there was a place where the water tumbled over the rocks and I could lean down with my cup and taste the clear water. There was.

David Camps Johnson stops by for a visit.

The trail blazers (either David, Glen or Greg) had been with their chain saw. Three tall aspens had been cut down, and a log that had fallen across the path was now sawn in half, or maybe I should say in 3’s for part of it was pushed away so that we could walk through.

Michael and I came out at the old camp created by the hard work of Jeremy and Reid so many years ago. There is a huge log washed up on shore there, one that I could barely lift my leg over. This is the spot where Michael practiced walking along fallen logs, jumping from high beached trees to the sand, and playing who can spit the cherry pit the furthest. I spent a lot of my time saying, careful, you don’t want to break your arm or your leg at the start of the summer when there is so much swimming to be done. And after every fall that winded him, I would say, Is this the time for the trip to the hospital. So far it isn’t.

To keep the game going, Michael would run back in the trees and bring us cherries for the contest. Time passed. The pits seemed to go less and less far. We practiced making cherry earrings. Then the contest turned into, how many pits can you keep in your mouth while still eating yet another pin cherry. As well, the pits had to be spit out into the sand (or water depending on the force with which the pit leaves the mouth), one by one.

On the return walk we came upon Connor and David put a small fishing boat into the water. Landon and Piper were down with them, all life-jacketed up. Two fishing poles were attached the side of the boat. Connor leaped into his seat by the motor and off they went down the bay. We threw more driftwood into the water before going home.

Arta

On Resisting Going to Bed

Bonnie solved the problem of resisting going to bed by buying a mattress cover that warms up the bed before I person gets in it.

 I told this to Rebecca as I watched her resist going to bed.  For her it takes the form of just one game of candy crush, or maybe just laying her head back on the chair she is sitting in and falling to sleep there for a few hours before going to bed.  Go figure how that can be more comfortable than an mattress.

I tried to keep myself awake tonight by reading. When that didn’t work I put my head down on the table, using my hands for a pillow and drifted off to sleep. I woke up when my hands were so numb I couldn’t feel them.

I didn’t want that to happen again but was still in the resisting going to bed mode so I just used my book for a pillow, taking off my glasses so that they didn’t interfere with that space where my face needed to be on the book. As well I turned this way and that, finding the most comfortable position for a head on a slightly raised surface. And then off I drifted again.

 Now I am blogging. That should keep me away for a few more hourse. I think I am resisting bed because of all of the gardening today. I know when I lay down I am going to feel every ache and pain.

Every pain and ache.

Arta

I Didn’t Plan on Being Away so Long

June 28, 2018

At the end of April I had cleaned up my flowerbeds, at least in the places where I knew plants would be growing in the Spring. I have some places in the flower beds where I am not sure, and where it is easy to dig up bulbs that I have forgotten away. Doesn’t that happen to every gardener.

So here I am back at the Shuswap and worrying that my flowerbeds are a disgrace. I like to keep them weed free. Right now the ground is wet, just with the perfect amount of moisture in it for pulling up quack grass, for example and having the whole root come up. Gardening here I come. But I stayed out too long. I admit, my body really aches tonight and I am came in too late to pick up the piles of weeds I left behind that must be taken to the compost. Still, a job well done from my point of view.

I have a wild rose bush that I keep trying to get out of my garden. It was back again this year, already about 3 fee high. I used my pitch fork around it the best I could to no avail. When Connor dropped by I asked him to help me. He dug as wildly as I did and was surprised when he pulled the pitchfork out of the ground and one of its tines had turned ninety degrees? “Was your pitch fork like this when you gave it to me,” he asked. When trying to straighten it again, the tine broke off. “Here, you now have a trident pitch fork,” he said, and handing me the piece that broke off he commented, “You might be able to use this tine for a tent peg.”

I will use it to weed the garden. Right now I am using a screw driver when I come across a reluctant weed and I am on my knees. I will try out the tine from the fork, now that it is freed from the work of helping on the pitch fork. Glen and Connor took the paddle board down to the lake for me. Well, they started with that. Then they put in the canoe. Then the two orange kayaks. Then some paddle for the canoe. I can’t be much more ready for summer than that.

Arta

Costco in Kelowna

June 27, 2018

I flew from Victoria to the Shuswap yesterday, driving out to the airport in time for a 7 am flight to take Jessica Asch and Rebecca to William’s Lake (Esk’etemc), a flight that left three hours before mine.

That gave me 3 hours to read (The Banker and the Blackfoot, my newest book about Treaty 7 land) while waiting for my ride through the sky. I was well into the air when I figured out I should be taking some picture of the islands that I was enjoying so much. I think this is the only picture where I didn’t also capture the propeller whirling through the sky.

Bonnie Wyora and Moiya picked me up in Kelowna. We had lunch at Costco, sitting by a couple, an older couple, who acknowledged to me that it was an economical meal they were sharing with each other. “Best date ever,” I replied. “You can do it for under $10.” At that the man laughed and the woman was interested in the ice-cream we had ordered. Now how can anyone have ever been to Costco and not ordered the ice cream, I wondered to myself. Bonnie offered a bit of her sundae to the woman, a kind of tester and to be clean about the whole experiment the woman took a bit on the end of her straw. That would not have been enough of a taste for me. The woman said that next time she wasn’t going to get the drink if she got the ice cream. “Why not? You are going to pay $1.50 for the Polish, whether you get the drink or not”, I laughed.

Oh boy!

One of my favourite pictures -- when
someone has lost their two front teeth

In tis case, on the same day.

Economizing at Costco is such a difficult thing to do.

My best part of the day was having Michael, Alice and Betty arrive at the lake, just an hour over I got here.

Sweet.

Arta

The Wrack Zone, Part II

morning in the wrack zone

Today was the first day of the conference called the Wrack Zone.

This is an interdisciplinary conference: environment, archaeology, anthropology, English, law, etc.

Rebecca and I turned to the dictionary tonight to see exactly what “wrack” means.

Among many of its definitions is the one that pertains to the ocean.

a sandbar in the wrack zone

The wrack zone is that area between low and high tide, where often detritus, organic matter, and such collect.

sitting under a tree in the wrack zone

I told Rebecca that is the zone I have been walking in every day that I make it down to the beach.

And today was no different than other days.

I pick up my phone and take pictures of the same 500 metre walk again and again, each time focusing on something new, and wishing that I had my more sophisticated camera equipment with me.

But my phone will do.

I typed for a lot of the day.

I tried to catch notes from Rebecca’s presentation, as well as from the other people on her panel. 

Then in the BizAzz class, I took notes on how to run an Annual General Meeting.

I can just about do that off the top of my head, though I told Rebecca I am going to go to the AGM that will be held at this conference.

geese swimming just outside the wrack zone

A person can just never go to too many AGM’s.

I have been writing BizAzz, but not in that form, for the whole time I have been here: BissAss, etc.

Finally I saw it on a binder and asked how this came about. She said that a former teacher of Business Associations had used that moniker and that the class is generally not called that in other law schools.

Perhaps it is The Corporation, or Business Associations, but still it is the same thing.

Curious that in her class she spends some time having group work done.

We have had to start a corporation, issue shares, get a shareholder registry going, a director’s registry, have a stated capital account, financials, and today we ran an AGM.

She gives us about 5 minutes to do this, and of course we take another extension, since nothing can be done in five minutes though there is one group in the class who divide and conquer – each one taking ¼ of the assignment and then they put it all together as a whole.

Our group is not that streamlined yet.

a wave enters the wrack zone

The names of our business might give away how successful they will be.

I noticed that one group is called Magical Pet Supplies.

Ours is Second Time Around, Victoria Inc.

We are trading on broken dreams and promises, buying up wedding jewellery that people who are divorced no longer feel comfortable wearing.

So far we haven’t had one customer.

Arta

Another Trip to the Ocean

Arbutus Beach ... a small wave rolls into the shore

This morning I tried to get Rebecca to walk to the ocean with me.

Too tired she said.

 So I laid in bed with her for a few minutes, since she said “Tell me some stories,” and I always have stories to tell.

 My days are so lovely here.

 Now it is 10 pm and I hadn’t done my last 1,000 steps, so out I went into the warm night air. The moon was already high in the sky. A few other walkers were out. The joggers seems to fly by in the early morning, which is the time I choose to walk down to the cove again.

The ground is becoming marked with objects and waters: Coleman coolers and bunnies.

Arbutus Beach ... the tide goes out

Today I almost stepped on a tiny bunny that skittered its way back under the ivy that was growing out over the sidewalk.

I wondered if that rabbit knows how to miss going under thorny vines of the raspberry bush nearby.

Perhaps by sad experience.

A couple of days ago I saw a blue and white Coleman cooler at the head of the stairs that lead to the beach. I looked inside.

Water, but now wind had blown dirt and other debris into the cooler.

 I was wondering how it have filled with water, but on thinking about that again, of course, it must have been filled with ice for a party that someone was having on the grassy area by the parking log.

Arbutus Beach
Is this the stuff they are referring to when they saw Wrack Zone?

The first day I saw the cooler, I only looked inside.

It was just abandoned there, on the other side of the fence where there is a sign that says, No Dumping, By Order of the City of Sanich.

The second day I turned it over to drain it out. 

Today I found myself dragging it over by the garbage.

Every morning I see that people have stacked their empty pop and beer cans there for the garbage men to take away.

One day I saw a twin mattress laid against the side of the garbage.

 Not having any idea how and why that was used, I just put a pass on thinking about that anymore.

Arbutus Beach
The early morning sun hits the water.

Tomorrow morning I shall check and see if the blue Coleman cooler is still there as I walk to the beach.

I am of the mind to ask Rebecca to bring it home. I could wash it out and she could store her garden tools in it.

 But I am smart enough not to ask.

 She would say no even louder than Steve would.

Arta

9 Indigenous Reads for Children

I love my CBC.

I listen to it in the morning if I have a radio in my bedroom.

And look at this lovely list of books which I shall try to find at the library and read.

9 beautiful children's books by Indigenous authors to read

Last night I could't sleep at about midnight so I got up and began reading On Being Here to Stay  by Michael Asch.

I love this home.

There is a book to read within reaching distance.

Rebecca says she buys them only hoping to read every page and knowing that she will find her way through at least one chapter.

Arta

4 cones for $4.49

I have never seen this done before.   Rebecca stopped by the Dairy Queen, bought a pint of ice-cream for $4.49, came home, split it into four cones and delivered them to what became the happiest home in Victoria at that moment.

"I don't understand how she did this", Duncan said, not knowing how she got it home from the store.

I didn't understand why she did it.

Arta

Typing Text vs Taking Pictures

... the golden colour of the logs washed up on shore ...

I can never type enough text to keep up a good ratio for the pictures I take.

Today I have 10 pictures that I want to put on the blog, but I have no where near that energy to find the words that would be descriptive of why I am in such places, and looking at such different things. 

This morning Steve went up island.

At 8 am I went to go on my walk, but climbed in bed with Rebecca who was just putting out a mighty morning yawn. 

We thought our first job of the day should be to organize a task list, and with that idea, my idea of a walk vanished and the two of us headed out to school to make that list and to check off that list.

Yes, every time we can check off a box, we can add another line item to replace it.

 So our morning sped by, check, add, check, add, write email, receive email, be reminded of a meeting that is not in our planner, make plans to get to that meeting.

... the evening view of the cove above the cliffs ... 

One of the brightest parts of the day was tasting the grapes that Jess brought in for a 3 pm meeting.

Oh, so sweet, Rebecca raved, who likes grapes anyway.

I thought they were good, which is my word for excellent coming from a non-grape loving person.

Later in the day she was to find those grapes are the genetically modified grapes called Cotton Candy Grapes.

Oh, on tasting those, any grape-hater’s mind can be changed.

... the sun glints off of the bronze bark ...

I had to go back out to the car once we got to the university.
My job was to put our lunches in the fridge.

Not finding the lunch bag I had to check the back of the car.
No lunch bag there, so we defaulted to the dahl in the freezer and the bagels in the fridge.

Every professor needs a back-up for food, lest they leave their lunch at home.

... the picturesque arbutus at the head of the cover ...

And now, for the best part of the day.

Having missed my walk and looking at my fitbit I knew I had to put in 8,000 steps, beginning at 7:30 pm.

At that time of night the task seems daunting. 

But I think of my brother-in-law, Greg, who might go out for two walks in the day, each of an hour’s duration at least.

So out to Arbutus Cove I went again, thinking about its calm and tranquility as I put one foot ahead of another.

... a ripple of water dies at the shoreline ...

Once I got there, I found that my lovely little cove is a revolving door at night. I had no idea.

One man was doing the 4 flights of stairs down to and up from the beach, 4 times.

One couple was taking their picnic supper down to the cove.

Three teen-age girls were walking the upper paths along the top of the cove.

I could hear them chatting as they walked one way, and they were chatting at the same level of intensity on their way back

The dog walker was out, the one who owns a stunning golden large poodle that I see in the morning. 

A show dog.

But now it was not the woman who was walking the dog, but in the evening, a man.

.... foliage seen over the bannister of the stairs ...

Three people were swimming in the water.

 I wasn’t close enough to see them.

 A new visitor to the cove stopped to ask me the name of this place, remarking that he was surprised the water was warm enough to swim in.

 I still feel like a visitor myself, but I answer as though I am a long time resident.

 I didn’t think much of the three swimmers until they passed me as I was leaving the cove. 

Two men, one with snorkel equipment and the woman, I could only see from the back view.

... evening begins to fall ...

I didn’t avert my eyes, though I might have in a different life.

I haven’t ever seen that part of the human anatomy exposed, at least in an adult.

Now I was just amazed at the design of the bottoms of her attire, a thong at the bottom, going up to a triangle, the largest part of which seemed to wrap around her waist. 

Amazing.

The three of them jumped in a small car, so they must not live close enough to walk to the beach in the evening.


Rebecca is home now from driving some colleagues out to catch the 9 pm ferry.

Sometimes at night she plays Candy Crush to wind down.

... peeking through the underbrush to the cove below ...

At other times we play the two person version of the game of Lost Cities, which may wind her down, but only leaves me in soporific stupidity – how can I consistently loose so many games to her, given that she must be far more tired than I in the evenings.

It is been 30 degrees here today, just a bit too much heat for me.

There are no mosquitos it seems. I did see some fawn in a field, just a small rustle in the tall grasses was what let me know they were there.

a fellow traveller  using the stair bannister ...

A few baby rabbits hopped in front of me at the cove, but they are gone faster than I can unlock the keys on my phone to get to my camera. 

Alex did bring me into the great room here, the one that can hold a grand piano, exercise equipment, 3 computer stations and still have left over room in it.

 ... a triple ripple comes to the shoreline ...

 High up near the fireplace was a beautiful spider web, the sun glistening through its perfect symmetry. Alex pointed to it, wondering how long the spider has been at work there.

I wondered too.

Arta

The Itinerant Grandmother

Recipes for the Itinerant Grandmother
Chickpea and Potato Currry on the left
Basic Pizza Sauce on the right

When I was in Montreal I kept hearing about the wonderful lemon squares that Grandma Kathy Jarvis would make.

I finally said to Catherine one day, I am going to try to match those, for whatever I make, it always seems to be measured against the lemon squares which come in at a 10/10.

"Fine," said Catherine, "I will even give you her recipe."  So I tried the squares. Mine came in at an 11/10 for the kids, though I told them that would be impossible since it was the same recipe as she used.

However, I did write the recipe down on an empty page of my day timer in case I needed to make it again when I wasn’t in Montreal.

Fast forward to being at the lake in April and Doral was making guacamole, the best I have ever tasted. “How do you do this,” I asked. “Oh, mine is always so good for it is made with love,” he answered.

I don't believe in cooking with love. Still I took down the recipe and put it in the early part of my day timer, since now I was into June and it didn’t really matter what went onto the January pages. And so the days went on, me making a recipe or two and then putting it in the day timer in case I wanted to do it again. My day timer is my only constant anymore in my travels. That and my fitbit.

Index to Recipes

I have collected so many recipe that today I had to make an Index in the foremost pages of my day timer, so that I can easily find the recipes, which accumulate as I move from house to house.

At Rebecca’s I have been doing all kinds of breads: Russian Black Bread, Country Seed Bread, Cracked Wheat Bread.

And some of her law students wanted to know how to make bread, so they came to the house and we did a Basic White Bread and then turned it into cinnamon buns. I found myself cutting the recipe off of the back of the Roger’s 10 kilogram bag of flour and pasting it in my book, along with their almond orange muffins – not because I want to make the latter, but I might as well have it on one of the empty January pages of my book.

If I come your way to stay for a couple of weeks (or months) I will be ready to make lemon squares. I do go to the Larchkitchens.blogspot.ca for many recipes. Thank you Laynie Hicks for setting that up.

Arta

A Brilliant Sunday Morning Stroll

... on first arriving at the water ...

The people who walk on this cover are friendly.

Perhaps that is because of the shared joy of a quiet secluded walk along the beach.


On Sunday I met a man who asked where I was from.


“The prairies.”


I asked where he was from.

...the rock is under water, water so clear ...

He said he was born in Victoria, as was his mother.


“Must suck,” I said, “to be born somewhere where there is no better place to go.”


We continued to walk along the beach.

... this is the only duck of my usual 30 on the beach ...

Then he walked ahead and when I caught up to he had found a place on the beach where he could lean on a rock.


His heels were pushed into the sand and he laughed, and pointed to a piece of wood that was a pillow for his head against the rock.


I had seen him duck down as he had walked down the beach, and kind of look up at the ivy covered cliff there.


 I wondered what he was looking at.

... more of my beautiful beach ...

I was to find out in a short time.


I walked along the beach, watching my feet and then my head knocked into a tree that has grown out laterally over the water instead of up to the sun.


I have seen that tree before.


Even photographed it.

... seaweed left by the tide on the beach ...

But the tide has never been in so far that I had to walk to it, then under it, and then on again.


 Rebecca thinks I am going to get two black eyes over it, since there was immediate bruising in the inner corners of my eyes from my glasses.


I think the bluish colour there is only temporary



Arta

The Milk Train

From Moiya

Judi had me stop to see this ice cream shop called The Milk Train.

Decide now:  cup or cone

Next?  Vanilla, Rose Milk or Chocolate

Or how about ordering The Milk Train Special

I’m afraid it isn’t for diabetics!

Part of it all is about the show!

Cotton Candy

Ice Cream and Sprinkles 

How can you top that?

Some days are longer than others

I had to pass on a set of 6 Thomasville
chairs for $150.  Perfect condition.

I was pretty sure Steve would kill
me if I brought these home.

Rebecca and I were wondering what has made this day seem so long.

We were over at the university working late tonight, and I had the vague feeling that it was already Sunday night, though when I really thought things through, I realized we are only on the start of the weekend and not at its end.

 I took pictures during my early morning walk.

 She did some weed whipping in the back yard.

 I organized the sets of papers I have been collecting and put names on binders of notes (all mine).

 Rebecca went on an early morning date with Steve to take organic waste to a collection depot.

... dead rabbit covered with blossom petals from the tree above ...

Together we took 2 trips to get food: one to the grocery store and one to pick up sushi at Fuji’s.

 She was afraid we were going too late, since their kitchen closes at 4:30 pm and anyone who arrives later than that just might be out of luck, since they will be sold out.

... the sky at Arbutus Cove ..

 It seems strange to go into a small Japanese grocery store and have the line up go right across the open freezers that are at the back of the store(those who are picking out food) and then the line goes all the way down the isle (those who are lining up to pay for the food).

The store was packed, all of us nervous that we would be the ones who got there to late and everything would be gone.

A man in front of me was walking along with his little girl.

“Daddy, what is on the sushi,”

“Fish eggs. People eat fish eggs.”

“I don’t want to daddy. It will hurt the fish.”

“No, the fish are fine.”

... not much lawn left after the deer has breakfast ...

I have been typing out the notes from Rebecca’s lectures.

I am at page 75, single spaced and have only 3 more classes to listen to before I go home.

She and I went to her office together to work on notes she has, but we set ourselves up in separate rooms.

... so weird to live somewhere and think it is
normal to see a deer stroll across the street ..

MacBeth was exhausting.

For some reason the weight of the deaths, Lady MacBeth’s and then the Lady McDuff and her children – all of that was excruciatingly sorrowful.

The acting was perfect.

I am spoiled with the wonderful close-ups that the cinema can bring to us on screen.

She made the mistake of doing housekeeping on her email and that can sometimes have one email take 30 minutes.

I know the rule is to click on the email and take care of it, but I sometimes slip into the default of looking at all of my emails before trying to answer any of them.

I never met a red flower I didn't like.

And by the time the last email has been opened, the energy to answer any of it is gone.

This was not true in her case.

She clicked on one of the emails that take an hour to answer.

So while I was busy editing in one room, she had other kinds of work going on in the other room.

I enjoy reading her work.

I like the tone and the poetic quality of her words, so the time editing flies.

Arta