Skateboarding in Salmon Arm - Part 2

 There is a great skate park in Salmon Arm.  Bonnie consulted with their friends who have kids that skate so we would know where to take Axel. 

And lucky us, Bonnie's friends were at the park when we arrived, so a group photo was in order with Mount Ida and an amazing sunset in the background.

Teenagers don't often appreciate their mom's trying to take pictures of them at the park.

The park has a lot of really cool graffiti so some photos of that was in order.

And for good measure -- the sunset again.

Podcast ideas?

I was thinking about cousins asking for ideas re podcasts.   It made me think, "hey, maybe I should be listening to podcasts too!" (I never want to be left behind).  So, here are some podcasts that have a Secwepemc (Shuswap) connection!

Not sure if I even told family members, but I was interviewed for a podcast sometime last year with my colleague Val Napoleon about the Indigenous Law Research Unit at UVic, and it included elders and law students from the Secwepemc Nation (elder Julianna Alexander from Splatsin, and Carolyn Belleau from Esketemc).  https://raventrust.com/full-fledged-tricksters-val-napoleon-the-indigenous-law-research-unit/

I went out to see more about what Raven Trust has on podcasts, and there is some great stuff.   This morning I listened to another one by Secwepemc hunter and artist Ed Jensen.  https://raventrust.com/podcast-ed-jensen-walking-the-path-of-respect/.  I listened thinking about Richard and Naomi out hunting, and hunting in all the right ways!   I was thinking they would both love this podcast.   He also talks about the original story about the relationship between the humans and the animals.   That part of the podcast would be a really great one for sharing with all the little ones at the lake in the summer!  You can also see Ed on a site about Salmon Restoration.   That is also a fun page to wander though! (especially you fishers in the family? :-)).  there is a gorgeous one minute video on the life cycle of the Chinook!  

There is also a podcast with ethnobotanist Nancy Turner, who has done tons of work with the Secwepemc.  If you have been enjoying Robin Wall Kimmerer' Braiding Sweetgrass, you will enjoy this discussion (of plants and food and more) https://raventrust.com/podcast-cultural-refugia-with-ethnobotanist-nancy-turner/ 

There you go... Secwepemc related podcasts for the day!

Do-ing. The mundane work of a Sunday.

 An interesting day.  Full of things but totally un-spectacular.

I started the day with a pre-sunrise trip to the shooting range.  I shot 100, 200, and 300 yard targets.  The first rounds of shots told me that my bullets hit high.  So the second round of bullets I sent down range landed very close to the center.  (when aiming at the bottom edge of the paper...).

If you notice, in one picture, we had to stop shooting because white tail deer had walked out onto the range.  Just when you have all of your rules memorized, such as that white tail always run away when they see someone, you end up putting douzens of bullets down at where white tail are and they won't move out of the way.  Maybe they've taken so much hearing damage from living on the range that they don't hear the sounds....  

Then home for a quick clean up, deciding which of the mattresses to take to the dump, deciding which children are in most need of 1 on 1 time with a parent, and moving into position to get those things to the dump.  On the way,

GARAGE SALE!  I cannot help myself.  At the garage sale, 4 book shelves full of titles with Gloria Steinem, and other titles that attract my attention.  Here is a picture of the books that I decided to buy.  I probably could have taken the lot.  I couldn't afford it though.  This was the best garage sale I've been to.  I have been to hundreds.

While picking books, Alice decided to make friends with a local dirty alley cat.  

Then to the dump, I let Alice have the camera because she isn't allowed out of the car while at the dump.  At least I think that's the rule for little children.

Then back home, A day of Do-ing.  Nothing interesting.  But all wonderfully mundane work of living.

And here's a Foxy Tail that someone needs to be wearing around all day...

And here's a picture of three wonderful scoundrels.  That's a long time knowing each other...

And here's a link to the videos that I took at the Capitol Hill and Banff Trail Community center events where they brought in Indigenous people to share.  Capitol Hill Events were with a nice woman from Treaty 6 Saskatchewan who lives in Treaty 7 now.  Banff Trail Community Event was a small Pow Wow with people from the Tsutsina Nation.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/sZ8i1RQEAdARS2qD6

I think that's enough sharing for the day.  Oh, here's another one!  Leapin' Lizards!  Leapin' Lizards!  Guess what we're watching before bedtime... on VHS from the garage sale...

Skateboarding in Salmon Arm

Did you know the Salmon Arm hospital is actually called the Shuswap Lake General Hospital? And the gold sticker goes to the person who can tell me the name of the pond/park beside it.

Axel's favourite time to skate is in the evening.  This is where we ended up in early august -- to skate the path around the mini-lake. I didn't manage to get many photos of Axel skating -- I was walking and he pretty much took off.  But got some great shots of this lovely spot where he was born 13 years ago.

 It was fun to try to capture the sky and the lights in the fountain.

The willows are one of my favourite things about this park.

Do-ing or "2 more days until airplane"

I am sitting here in the morning, monday of sep 13 on the rocky outcropping of Arbutus Cove.  I am vulnerable.  I was protected by Wyona when I was failing engineering school. I moved to Ottawa and was mothered by a new world. It was far from my home. It was far from my friends and my environment.  It was a time where many things were changing. Sometimes moving far away is a necessary change to help you grow as a person.

I'm sitting here in a new environment again, and re-learning how to be one step closer to an elder. The sun is shining on the water, I am holding my crying daughter, and we are reflecting on how hard it is every year. Something new to learn every year. Some challenge that is new and scary. 

Miranda made an offering basket for a Cree elder and I will learn that even when you need help from an elder, the offering doesn't mean that they'll help you. I didn't give an offering basket to wyona twenty years ago. She helped me. What we see here is tobacco, a canned fruit or berry, three different colored cloths, and sweet grass.  Miranda got me with this thoughtful gift that she is offering a local Cree Elder.  From what I understand though, is that an offering isn't a gift for services rendered.  It can be "not accepted".  A thought that scares me.  Someone can say no, even if you are asking for help and the need is critical.

But how do you prepare yourself for a possible no... Because I needed that help. If things had been different all that time ago, what would today look like.

Alice is crying for her pain on her hand. It hurt. I am crying because of fear. I love you all. 

P.s. here is an offering of fresh berries and live crabs from Arbutus cove.  

Writing a blog post

For weeks now, I've been thinking about "putting something up on the blog." I've taken photos here and there -- reminders of things I can blog about from my life.  

I used to delay writing, delay writing, delay writing -- then one day I would suddenly just post 3 of 4 blogs.  That's that.  I'm caught up.  There you go Arta.  I did it for you.

But right now, my heart just hurts so much when I think about this blog, this amazing space where we share our lives. I don't want it to make me sad.  It is a repository of amazing moments from our past. A joyful place.

What makes those moments amazing and joyful?  It's not that they were life changing, transformative, full of wisdom.  They are mostly just the mundane, ordinary to-ing and from-ing of our living days.  What makes them special is that we share them with each other.

And so, even if Arta isn't here, reading the posts I always wrote just for her, I know there are others out there, reading this blog.  People I love so deeply.  And even if they aren't reading, that's OK too (but not really).

Hey, just wanted to say hi.

 

Hey, people keep saying that they miss you.  I miss you too.  Just typing that made me cry.  So lets not think about that, you and I. 

Things are going well, I don’t need anything.  Let me know if there’s something to do, or if you’re in need. 

Kids are good.  Things are going well.  The kids are fun.  Michael is soft, Betty is fun, and Alice is working hard.  She is working so darn hard.  Miranda borrowed some chickens from a farmer, and they went back to the farm a couple of days ago.  That made Miranda sad.  : )  I've got to change my thought process here because even thinking about talking to you was a fun idea but now I’m having a hard time turning the emotions off.  I think I might have opened the flood gates.  No good.  It’ll be easier next time.

Maybe it’ll be easier next time.  Call me if you need me.

A love letter, to a Feminist

 Let's start this conversation from common ground.  The word feminism to me is not a pejorative.  If it is to you, I pity you.  Feminism conjures up images of 'out of control' women.  Hairy, unkept, screaming, unreasonable women yelling at reasonable men about things that will not change.  If you want the websters definition we can begin from there.  

Here it is:

: belief in and advocacy of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes expressed especially through organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests

I was born to a feminist.  I have said countless times to the people that I know, "I have four feminist sisters, and a feminist mother".   When I began using this phrase I enjoyed looking for the reactions from people.  But time made this less exciting.  Then I just kept saying it to prepare people.  To prepare them by giving them an overture to the conversation that they were walking into....

I have vivid memories of a woman with short white cropped 80's hair, and adoring her.

When my mother talked about going to a rally, or offered to bring me along it was always an attractive offer.  Things would happen.  You will be safe; you will be surrounded by people that all love the same way that you love.  There will be stories that when reenacted in the future will raise ones heart rate.  I craved being around the power of those women.  Women that by definition had to fight just to be recognized.  Women that had to fight to even be considered for a place at the table.

I pause to reflect on the basic complaint of those with power.  Why do feminists have to hoot and hollar asking for power.  It is SIMPLE for me to have power, I just have it.  They need not make a mess and rally and raise their voices.  Just have the power, as I have the power.  Those feminists offend me by being bold.  And I fear, that they will end up with more than half.  Then.... I will have less then them.

To be around the other beings of our biological race has always come with a requirement.  At least for me there is this requirement, to be with the others has required that I trust and value them.  For how could you truly be around someone else without seeing them as equal or better than me.  How could you meet someone and immediately judge them as less.  Some people have learned to minimize or see others as less than oneself.  We can talk politely, but I will always see you as less.  You are less.  I am more, I know this.  

 

My mother taught me that we are all feminists.  Ovaries are not a prerequisite to imagine that we are all equal in this world.  And if I think about it, imagining is not fully enough to be a feminist.  A feminist isn't someone who hopes.  It is someone who hopes and acts.  The act is the thing that takes the work.  The act is why we aren't there yet.

My particular genetic peculiarities curse many in my tribe with the heart that cannot fit.  The grinch was born with a heart two sizes too small, and we are cursed with hearts two sizes too big.  It is not necessarily a blessing.  

Because of that heart I groomed a mantra after vivid experiences with my mother at the tender age of 14.  I use that mantra to this day.  "Everyone gets a fair chance.  Everyone.".  I don't want to expound on those born on third base.  They have more than a fair chance and that is a conversation about extreme affluence.  Feminism for now, cannot have a fair chance because women are not born at the baseball field.  For me, feminism circles the conversation about being born without a baseball glove, or an arm to throw with, or a team that will allow you to be in the batting lineup.  Therefore women must be bold and sometimes holler.

I will always say that I am a feminist.  Till the day I die I will self identify as wanting to be part of that group of people.  Maybe though, I need more 'act'.  Being a vocal feminist when surrounded by misogynists' is something, but I think I must 'act' more.

This world even today, has too many powerful people that actively try and discourage those 

*loud

*obnoxious

*emotional

*hormonal

*on her period

*bleeding from where ever

*bitter

*vengeful

*man hating

women.

Please know, we feminists are not all women.  As well, some day know that everyone will be a feminist in this world if we truly do believe in equality.