Thanksgiving 2020

Thankgiving pictures from Rebecca and Duncan

Thanksgiving at our house:

We exist.

Thanksgiving pictures Catherine and Eric Jarvis:

Catherine and Eric have had large Thanksgiving dinners, relatives and joining them for the week (a tradition for the Books family) plus various other families attending the feast.

Now this is it.

Thanksgiving,  enough for six of them.

Their holiday tradition of various jellos for the very  young continues.  

I have no idea that all of that jello is going to be eating.

Hebe and her mom made cupcakes for the harvest.

Hebe's Pumpkin Harvest

Hebe's pumpkin harvest looks like a lot of work to me.

For some reasons I think of picking one of those up and I look down to see if I have icing on my fingers already, so I am looking for a napkin before I even begin.

Thanks from Bonnie and me, Hebe.

Arta

Sociology and Duncan Carter-Johnson

 SOC 160  - Assignment

My name is Duncan Carter-Johnson and I am a 6’3 agnostic white Canadian male college student who lives in Victoria, BC. My family and I moved here before I was one year old from New Brunswick though I have no recollection of the place and consider my home town to be Victoria.

According to “23-and-me”, I have close to 100% western European DNA and what I know about my family solidifies this image.

Benjamin Franklin Johnson

On my mothers’ side of the family, there is a long history of Mormonism dating back hundreds of years where my ancestors traversed Canada and the United States leading back to Europe. My family are unquestionably settlers that came across from Europe in the 1700s, looking to find a place to live that was better than where they came from. I have been schooled in the history of colonization, which paints these ancestors in a negative light. Though this is entirely fair and justified, I do not have disdain for them. I have very strong connections with this side of the family, which is also unusually large. 

To make this simple, my great-great-great-grandfather had 7 wives and 45 children. My grandmother mocks him, telling us that at the end of his life, none of the wives would move with him to Mexico (they had all pretty much been strong women who raised their children on farms, doing the work to keep everything going). Luckily, there has been no polygamy in the family since then, but the family is large. 

Names of the wives of Benjamin Franklin Johnson

In the summer, I spend some time in the Shuswap (Secwepemculucw) with my family, on 60 acres of land along the lake. There are usually 80 or so people there, with all the great-aunts and uncles, and too many cousins and second cousins for me to reasonably count. There is so much variety in people’s politics and interests and abilities. There is lots of time for music, and games. Despite the size of the family, it is very close, and people are in contact with each other year-round. For example, we have a family blog with new posts appearing every few days.

Both my parents are important in my life, but my mom’s extended family has been more powerfully present in my life and has shaped my identity. My father’s side of the family is a bit more of a mystery. He was adopted by his parents when they were older. So he was raised by a father who had been wounded during the second world war, and by parents who had lived through the depression. They were also roman catholic. Apart from allergies and interactions with my paternal grandmother, my father’s family is less present in my life than my mother’s. Despite both my parents coming from religious households, neither enforced those beliefs on me or my brother. They gave us space to come to conclusions about religion on our own.

When I think about what makes up my identity or ancestry, I honestly am quite confused about how to think of myself. I was born in Canada which makes me a Canadian citizen through Canada as a whole was built upon another society that is still present today. Thinking about challenges to Canadian legitimacy throws into question not only how I think about the country but how I think about myself. My ancestors came to the Americas from England and parts of France. But other than knowing this, I have little to no connection with those parts of the world. In my life, I have many connections to my family in Victoria and in Salmon Arm. These are where I feel most connected to today.

When others see me, I presume they see the stereotypical white male that has a relatively easy life without any hardship. I would like to say that these presumptions aren’t true and that they misrepresent me and my life, but I can’t. In my life I have not been racially profiled, I have never had to worry about access to clean food, water, and shelter. I have had access to learning resources and private tutors to help me when I have had trouble in school. I live in an upper-middle-class household with two working white-collar parents that are present in my life. I know that I fit the stereotype to the letter. Part of this bothers me though I don’t let it affect how I see myself.

I see myself as someone who is first and foremost a total nerd; from Star Wars to Lord of the Rings, I have invested hours of my life living these stories out in my head. I love to debate and question things I hear which has made me very interested in history and sociology. I am a fan of bland foods and like to expand my number of friends when I get the opportunity. I have grown up on traditional first nations territory both here in Victoria by Mount PKOLS and in Salmon Arm in Secwepemc territory during the summers. The stories I have heard (both from my grandmother and from Secwepemc storytellers) and the experiences I have had there have changed my perspectives on some established norms, and have helped shape me into the person I am today, regardless of my ancestry. It is true for me as much as it is for anyone, that you can’t fully understand a person by who their ancestors were. Our ancestry may provide a paper trail that lets us connect back to pieces of our history that may or may not be relevant today. To me, that provides only an outline of who you are, and the rest of your experiences fill things in.

Duncan Carter-Johnson

Duncan turns 18

Steve put the most effort into Duncan’s birthday, buy a noise maker and cans of plastic string that extrude out of tips to cover the birthday person. 

Neither Steve nor Rebecca were totally capable of keeping the string pointed at Duncan, and both of them being on opposite sides of the bed, did manage to have some of the overflow hit the other. But this was all in fun – to start celebrating this day  at 7 am with the story of Duncan’s birthday, even down to the last bit of minutiae: the minute he was born. 6 / 49

Rebecca had Steve go right out and buy a lottery ticket that day, but winning didn’t happen. The birth of a new baby was enough. And now Duncan was given the chance to plan his own party. Time. Place. Happenings. He wanted it to start in the evening, food being ordered in and then either play board games or something else of his choosing, though what that would be, he wasn’t sure of at 7:00 am.

I have never ordered take-out food to be delivered to my house ever – just one of those things I forgot to do in life. In light of this and in full spirit of a birthday party, I pulled up a chair close to Rebecca while we went to the internet to see the take-out order from the Purple Garden. Rebecca wrote down the suggestions: 2 sweet and sour pork, one noodle dish, salt and pepper squid for Steve and I can’t remember the fourth dish, since it didn’t matter anyway. When we finally got to the end of the page, we read *Closed Tuesdays. And yes, even a phone call there, in case we were reading wrong, confirmed that the take-out was not going to be Chinese last night. Rebecca was willing to order from any Chinese take-out on Shelbourne Street, but it was Duncan’s birthday and he wondered if he made a switch to pizza if it would be alright: 2 pepperoni, one meat loves and of that, one of them with a stuffed crust. I had to be told what stuffed crust means, which only shows I really don’t know how to order take-out.

Duncan made me laugh when we got home. To keep his appetite up for the take-out party at night, he went to have his lunch at Subway, but only ordered a 6”, instead of a 12” pizza, preserving room, or maybe reserving some space in his stomach for the evening.  Duncan told his dad that he had never noticed it was only a $2 saving to order half as much, which didn't seem right to him.

Over the years, Duncan has always asked for a Dairy Queen Ice-Cream cake. To make the inscription clear on his cake to others, when he was a little guy and had received some education on the reproduction of the human body at school, he came home and told his parents that as a sperm there had been a great race and the reason he was born was because he had won the Race of Life. Sometimes a person says something when they are young and parents remember it forever, or at least until the 18th birthday when the phrase is transcripted to the top of an ice-cream cake.

 One of Rebecca’s colleagues saw the picture this morning, and asked Rebecca, “What exactly did you say to the person who was going to write this on the cake.

Rebecca replied, “Oh the truth, on the cake I would like a sperm with a face that has curly brown hair on it and these words ….”

 Yes.

 Sometimes it is better to just tell the truth.

I thought we would be playing board games all night. But Duncan wanted to show everyone the Dolphin piece from the Blue Planet, which made a lovely evening: a large screen, a warm room and ice-cream cake.

Happy Birthday, Duncan. Congratulations at winning the race of life.

Arta

Milestones

... thimble berry blossoms by Arbutus Cove ...

Duncan’s Mount Doug Jazz Concert was down at the harbour in the middle of Victoria.

Float planes landing and taking off.

Yachts tied up to the shore

A white tent, peaked, with no sides, was set up for the band members and we sat in the hot sun of the promenade.

... water pooling in the rocks at Arbutus cove ...

Steve had on a baseball cape.

 I covered my neck and shoulders with one of Rebecca’s silk scarves.

We listened to Jail House Rock, Uppin Adam, Willow Weep for Me, Dues Blues, The Girl From Impanena, Xel-ha, Doo-Dat Blues (the one he had his solo in), and Back To Havana.

Tourists walked by, or perhaps fellow Victorians. 

One woman asked me if I lived here. I told her no, but did she live here.

Yes, since 1975, which I recognize as being a long time ago. She told me that the high school teacher and band master was her teaching student back in those days. All I could say is that he has made a permanent footprint into the lives of those to whom he has taught band. A well-loved band teacher. A one, a two, a one, two, three, four and the band breaks into song.

Duncan had not told his dad that he would be doing a solo. That is Duncan’s way. When the Grade XI’s had finished, it was time for the Grade XII jazz band to perform. We continued to sit on the cement abutment next to the water and listen.

Steve offered to take us out to dinner. Milestones, a restaurant on the bay, was on a few steps away. Duncan has been there before with Stacey and Felix for appetizers. We had the full entrees, three beauties after discussing whether or not the real food would look anything like the pictures in the mean.

It did.

Arta

The Welder's Mask and the Eclipse

"And I thought I would be on the road to Victoria and
miss the eclipse.  Just one more wonder to my day."

Tonia came over to alert us that the welder's mask was being used over at the Pilling's to see the eclipse.

We gathered up our things to run over there, but before we could get up the driveway David Pilling had brought the welder's mask over to our house.

What a grand way to see the eclipse: Duncan, Tonia, Rebecca and I, all being amazed at the sudden chill that came over the earth and then the warming again.

There will be more spectacular renditions of what happened in other parts of the world.

On our driveway, we all stood amazed.

Our view of the eclipse as captured in a phone
held up to the welder's mask.
We just couldn't help ourselves.

Then we chatted about the wonders of science, about this phenomenon when it would have been explained to us in our junior high science classes, and we talked about the general beauty of the spot where we live, of the spectacular sunsets, of the light shimmering across the water.

Rebecca gave us a further explanation about phonemes found in other a native language and how the words spirit, day and eye are all connected.

This other way of viewing the world was in response to David wanting the world to fast forward just one year, but then taking it back and saying that he must believe in others who say it is the process that is going to matter.

Rebecca, of course, wants the world to rewind in the same way.

Arta

The Disappearing Trick

Duncan joined us at Agecare Seton via Facetime – that modern day miracle that brings far away families together in the best way.

He turned 16 on March 5th.

He was Rebecca’s helper while she performed tricks of magic on him. She took 8 coloured pens in her hand and then with each, she tucked it into his hair and the coloured pencil disappeared. 

Red. Yellow. Blue. Green. Fushia. Neon Pink. 

She slipped them into his hair and they disappeared.

The second part of her trick was taking them out one by one: … five, six, seven but she couldn’t find the eighth! She took both hands and ran her fingers over the top of his head, patting and pushing until she found the last one.

Duncan and Rebecca should go on the road with that trick.

Arta

The Classic Summer Storm

... waves breaking on the dock ...

Over the years, I have come to associate a combination of thunder, sheet lightening, pelting rain and high waves with the long week-end in August.

That storm didn’t materialize.

The storm did come later in the month.

... looking to the west and seeing how high the water is
splashing by the wet marks on the rocks ...

Rebecca and Bonnie took Duncan and Ben down to ride the waves. Rebecca was soon back up at the house telling me to bring my camera and join them since it was an event not to be missed. I don’t know what it is that is so magnificent: the wind coming from the west along the Salmon Arm of the Shuswap? the waves beating the docks until they are along the shoreline? the teen-age boys riding the paddle boards and the kayaks? Bonnie waiting for the next wave and then leaping in the air as it is about to cover her? Rebecca taking pictures and her hair billowing in the wind? the foam on the waves as it pulls back from the shore and into the water.

Perhaps it is everything together. I ventured out further than I wanted to go and it wasn’t long before I had been dashed back to shore flat on my back. Getting up from a prone position with the waves slapping down on me was something I hadn’t thought about when I got into the water. At least I had the good sense to be within calling distance of Rebecca.

Arta

A Plethora of Games

 ...a treasure chest of games ... 

Doral Johnson delivered.

He said he would bring games for us to play.

And so he did.

This suitcase is only the beginning of what he pulled out of his van when they arrived for their holiday.

LtoR Doral, Duncan's back Ceilidh, Ben, Daivd's back, Bonnie

I have to admit that my favourite of the games is Sushi.

I will never be afraid of ordering when I enter a Japanese Restaurant again.

Duncan told the Johnson kids that they have the best parents ever -- board game parents. 

This is a family who plays board games up to five evenings a week, not just five evenings a year. 

So let's hear it for the parents of the year: Doral and Anita. They brought the gaming holiday of the year to us.

 Arta

Roots and Blues Festival, Friday Night

From Rebecca:

"I added my name to the back of this festival
chair: Ceilidh 2016"

"My first time to the festival.  Aunt Bonnie gave me
a $20 bill, told me to spend it and to come
back and tell her what I had purchased."

This year Arta didn’t come to the Roots and Blues Festival.

We banned her until she can do 12 hours in the hot sun.

So Bonnie and I headed off as the only two adults for our small group: Duncan, Ben, Megan, Ceilidh and Connor (David’s friend).

Yay!

 Six teens or teen-wannabees. They all had programmes, chairs, blankets, money and had been instructed in festival protocol.

Not a full instruction, because when the band Digging Roots asked us to come to the front to participate in a round dance, I couldn’t shame a single one into joining me.

But I got up there myself.

And ended up having my groovy dance captured on the big screen for the pleasure of my little crew. I can still boogie.

My favourite band this time was Digging Roots whose first song, “I’ll Cut My Hair” was about residential schools.

The second song, “Highway 17” was about missing and murdered indigenous women. They were just great. I bought their CD, along with 17 others. This is my once a year event to support musicians. Every year a big purchase appears on the VISA bill. It is always the same thing. Me with my festival purchases.

"My festival chair is before me.
I am packed and read to go." 

The Secwepemc welcoming at the beginning of the festival was a relatively quiet affair.

A prayer from an elder and a flute song by one of their relatives from the Navaho nation who has married in the Secwepemc.

I had already been told that the big elders gathering is this weekend in another venue, so I know most indigenous people are elsewhere this week-end, unfortunately.

The flute, though, was amazing.

 It sounded like he had two flutes going at the same time.

 It is a particular wooden flute that does have two openings at the top.

"My sunhat doubles as an umbrella."

I also loved having him there because the Elder’s introduction and their use of him as part of their introduction was a reminder that people from different places can become part of the same community, which felt a bit like an introduction to settlers to understand themselves as people who can learn to belong to the community.

The bonus is that the community will continue to acknowledge where they come from and draw on their skills as part of the new community.

"This is my fourth Roots and Blues Festival."

Bonnie and I walked past the flute player later in the evening and I grabbed him to tell him how much I had enjoyed his music. Bonnie asked him how he managed to make two notes at the same time and so he pulled out his flute and started playing for us again. I had assumed he made the notes by changing his finger position on the flute but it turns out it is in his embouchure. That was fun. I keep being reminded, say hello to people.

There was a funny thing that happened in the evening.

I went to check out the aboriginal art booth at the festival. I admired the goods. I started a conversation with the artist and his partner/wife. There was a beautiful woven cedar hat there and cedar roses on the table. I told them I have a cedar rose that someone gave me after they took their first workshop (the rule on the coast is that you have to give away the first one that you make).

"I am looking forward to the
flavoured lemonade at the festival.
Raspberry to be specific."

There was also a small pair of earrings with cedar headbands.

I told them I loved the hat but that I have a friend who is starting to make them and so I might end up buying one from her, but that I would buy the earrings, since they reminded me of my friend, Carla Point.

He said, “Carla Point! That is my cousin. And those other earrings are by Mary Martin, who is Carla’s cousin, too.”

So I have a selfie of me and Ernie to send Carla. It turns out he lives near Campbell River where Steve is working on the new hospital. It is a small world.

"And now into town to pick up my friend, Connor.
Festivals are more fun in twos and threes."

I showed Bonnie the earrings.

She took them and put them on her ear lobes and she went back over to browse at the aboriginal art booth, getting no eye contact with the owners and not mentioning anything to see if they would notice the earrings.

 It took a while.

She saw them whispering back and forth. Finally they said, “Excuse me, did someone just give them to you.”

As usual, there was an amazing sunset over the festival.

Rebecca

Creme Brulee

.... concentration is everything ...

Duncan owns one of the tools in the kitchen.

The butane torch.

Mainly used to put the sugary crust on crème brulee.

He has been wanting to make it so this after noon we got together in the kitchen and put the recipe together.

Everyone who bakes knows that the first step is finding the recipe and getting the correct ingredients in the pantry or the fridge.

That alone can put a halt to some recipes.

.... captured it!  the yolk is separated from the white

A case in point is that I have been looking for sumac for weeks, wanting to make fattoush. 

What is fattoush without that final ingredient, even though it is listed as option.

It is not optional, as attested to by those who have had the salad with sumac and without.

... which shell to use to try to pick out stray bits of shell? ....

Crème brulee is easier – some egg yolks, sugar, vanilla and whipping cream.

Maybe a double boiler and for sure – the blow torch.

Duncan was the egg separator. Six eggs gave him a chance to practice doing two things: scooping bits of shell out of the white; trying to pick up the yolk from the white when his attention got off of separating the two and he cracked the whole egg into the waiting pyrex dish.

Blame that on what you will, I have done that more times than he ever will, recovered the yolk and gone one.

“This is a disaster.”

He was right.

We added the hot cream to the creamy egg yolks too fast.

We tried a bit at a time. Mmm.

... five eggs cracked, one to go ...

Scrambled eggs in cream.

Straining the concoction wasn’t enough to save it, though we went on and baked what we could.

Even the baking was a disaster with the fat separating out on top. 

Duncan wants to use that blow torch. That, after all was the whole purpose of the experiment.

We are going to try to do this again.

So much went right, that I don’t want to give up yet.

Arta

Duncan loves Christmas

... a logo to be desired ...

Duncan loves Christmas. His dad offered to give him the cash that would otherwise be spent on a fresh tree. “So near to Christmas, it really isn’t worth getting the tree,” Steve said.

 That was no argument for Duncan.  He would rather have the feel of Christmas than the feel of cash in his pocket.

He likes to have the outside Christmas lights on and he likes to have the tree lit. When I go to bed at night, I sometimes turn off the tree lights but he is still playing games in the family room.  When I get up in the morning, the lights are back on the tree that is in the front room. It is the last thing he has done before going to bed. Turn them back on. How can anyone love Christmas more than that.

... one of 100's of o2 logos ...

Christmas morning brought two traditions I am not familiar with. 

One is that the presents under the tree come from people far and near, fictitious and real.

 One from Elizabeth May, one from Darth Vadar, one from Steven Harper, one from Victoria Mayor Lisa Helps. One from Billy Idol, one from Darth Vader, one from Lucifer, one from Barak Obama

When unwrapped there were lots of electronics and new T-shirts. 

I have never heard of O2, but those shirts were keepers.  I heard words of gratitude all day about those gifts.

... candy bought for the fabulous box ...

As well, though the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, they had been stuffed with newspaper.

 There is no way that the stocking stuffers would have fit in the stockings, had the stockings been long enough to hang down to the hearth.

There was the Kinder Express Surprise Train, a Gingerbread Spice Chocolate Bar, Hemp Heart Bites, a can of Hibiscus Soda, a jar of Simpkins Sweets (Royalty Style).

Simpkins ... for a royalist

When Rebecca saw those on the shelf at the store she said, "I just have to get these for Alex. He is not a royalist and will laugh when he pulls these out of his metaphorical stocking. "

I am just wondering whomever  else has had a CLIF bar: Chocolate Chip Peanut Crunch – the ingredients are 70% organic in their loot bag. Even 3 days later, it is hard to to laugh with all of the fun – making it is one of Rebecca’s gifts.

Arta

Mount Douglas Holiday Concert

... the jazz band in the foyer ...

“The concert starts at 7 pm. The Jazz Band has to be there at 6:30 pm.” Neither Steve nor I could figure out what the jazz band would be doing. Setting up chairs. It wasn’t until I was talking to Duncan at the foot of the stairs as he was shining his shoes that I caught on – the jazz band was to be performing in the foyer as people walked in to take their seats.

That put some heat on us to get there on time. Duncan had already checked out his clothes and he looked fantastic – bright yellow tie on a black shirt. As we were driving out of the driveway and down the street Steve said, "Got your music?  Remember, last time I had to go home and get it."

"Whoops," said Duncan as Steve made a u-turn to go back for it.  "At least the ride home to fetch it isn't as long this time," continued Duncan as he leapt out of the car to run into the house.

 Steve and I stood in the foyer to listen to the band. No one was more surprised than the two of us when Duncan got to his feet and did a solo during one of the songs.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a solo? What kind of son are you to keep secrets like that?”

“Well, I didn’t really want anyone to know. Mr. Awai just said to me, Duncan, you take that solo, and there wasn’t much I could do but say, yes sir.  But I have been worrying about it for days now.”

Two hundred and fift-six performers in the evening: the first band, the second band, the first choir, the second choir, the third choir, the first strings group, the second strings group, the third band. You get the idea. And those who weren’t playing at the time were cheering the others who were. The evening was full of songs I love: Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, “Lo, how a rose ‘ere blooming, “Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” by a string quartet, Mel Torme’s “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire".

I leaned over to Steve and said, “It is true what they tell us at the HD Live Opera events. There is nothing like a live performance in your local school or theatre.”

... Mr. Awai and the Grade X Band ...

I keep hoping and praying that Duncan will join the men’s choir next year.

I think the only way he will do it is if Mr. Awai says, “Duncan, I want to see you at men’s choir.

I studied the conductor, both out in the foyer and in the gym. Doug Awai wore a Santa hat and had a bright red and green Christmas tie on. The black of his suit jacket and his pants told me that they were separate pieces. The trousers were long, maybe about six inches longer than what might have been his normal leg length, so I am guessing all of those folds at the bottom of the trousers are a statement of style. His body was full of rhythm, his legs tapping, his shoulder rocking to the music, his head going forward and back, attached to his neck which also had a rhythm of its own. His hand would be tapping the piano, or he was a holding a stick and a bell. “A one, a two, a three, a four” and then in double time, a one, two three,  four and away they went.

By the end of the evening my own body was swaying and my foot tapping.

A wonderful concert.

Arta

PS  Steve told Duncan since it was his night, he could go anywhere he wanted afterward.  I thought Duncan would choose to do a treat run through the isles of Save-on-Foods as he does with his mother.  No.  He decided on a Diary Queen ice cream cake.  Life is sweet here.

Fractured Land

Caleb Dehn in Fractured Land

Rebecca was on a panel today with John Borrows and Val Napoleon and Caleb Behn discussing the new documentary Fractured Land.

Then we attending the 6:45 showing of the film in the Old Victoria Theatre downtown.

Life is almost perfect when there is a parking spot right in front of the theatre, when the Noodle Box is right next door and can provide supper, and when the rain is falling, reminding me of the joy of clean water again.

Everyone had a favourite spot in the film.  Mine was the young Dene lawyer in a canoe.  Alex liked the part where an animal that was in trouble was killed and then skinned.  Rebecca liked the part where the young activist had forgotten speaking engagements, that luckily, where still in the future.

None of us will be able to stomach fracking any more -- the film brought a high awareness of the environmental danger it poses to all of us.  Oh, perhaps I liked the closing credit which rolls by to say the Caleb hopes to become the Keeper of the Water.That fits right into my politics.

We are home now. Duncan is finishig the evening off with homework.  Last night he and his mother had a discussion about plays and musicals.  Duncan thought he had seen at least 50 in the past few years.  His mother said no -- probably only 20.  So they counted.  Duncan was right.  They counted 56.

Fractured Land will count as the 57th.

Arta

Writing Music for Film

Sketch by Duncan Carter Johnson

Duncan decided to try to draw anime eyes.  Before he knew it

he had finished an anime drawing.  Is a career as an 

animator is around the corner?

A few days ago Rebecca told me that she was going to spend the weekend at a seminar on writing film for music.

I want to go to every class that piques my interest, but this one being in Victoria, is out of the question.

So I began to watch the subtitles that we run on our TV with new interest, concentrating  on what the subtitle says about the music and ignoring the dialogue.

I have been missing a lot of good plots this way, and preparing myself for a class I can't take.

My goal is to go back to watching TV the regular way soon.

Arta

My Vacation by Bonnie Johnson

... wishing I could take you all to Victoria ...

I'm so happy. I am writing to share with you that I am off for a vacation to Victoria for a week.

With support from Marla to book the ticket ... I will arrive tonight at10:10 pm.

Hallelujah!

With support from my work team (Christina, Julie, and Ramona) my clients will be told I am off until April 1st. That will let me come back to 7 business days for paperwork catch-up before seeing clients again.

With support from Joaquim, David will enjoy a Spring Break with his dad.

What more could I ask for?

That I could take all if you with me to Victoria.

With joy,

Bonnie

Greetings from Annis Bay

... the thinkers ...

Merry Christmas from Duncan and David.


They choose to sit in invisible chairs for this candid.


After a full day of electronic gaming, Duncan went off to see Into the Woods.


Christmas holidays is a time to relax all of the rules around gaming and film viewing.


Just bring on the holidays.


Arta

Duncan's fire report

... this room needs to be completely redone ...

I was riding my bicycle home from school. I was five minutes late because my teacher made us stay after school for five minutes.  The teacher was trying to talk, but everyone was putting stuff in their backpack and shuffling papers. She couldn’t be heard. She said, “You waste my time, I waste yours. I am not letting you go until I finish talking.”

So, I was riding on my bike when I saw black billowing smoke on my block. I figured it was someone else's house. But about six houses from my house, I realized it was my house. I saw Firetrucks and a bunch of people standing around looking at my house.

I thought, “Well, this has never happened before.”

I was the first person in my family to arrive home. 

I didn’t really know what to think of the situation. 

I didn’t think I could do too much. 

I didn’t talk to the Firemen. 

I didn’t think they needed my input.

So I waited on the lawn across from my house. I talked to our neighbours. I talked to our other neighbours. They said what happened up until the time I got there.

My mom arrived about 5 minutes later. 

She said, “What happened here?” 

“Oh, fire" I said

... doorjamb and roof ...
wall used to be baby blue

Grandma Arta asked if there were police there. I would answer “no and yes”. There were no police cars there but there were people from the fire investigating department because it was considered a suspicious fire.

Eventually I found out that what happened. 

A candle was accidentally left lit. The wax dripped down. Alex’s jersey, which is made up of one of the most flammable materials on earth, went up in flames.

Later, some kid I know from school walked by. 

He said, “Is that your house?” 

Ripping down the walls in Alex's room after the fire.
You can still see some of the walls.

I replied, “yeah”. 

He said, “Oh.” 

He asked, “How did it start.” 

I said, “Candle.” 

He said, “Oh.”

There wasn’t much for me to do so I went to my friend Felix’s house. He ended up not being there. Later he came home and his mom went to see my mom at my house. Felix and I watched youtube, we played a really fun board game, then we went to pick up my friend Peter. Eventually I went to the hotel to be with my family.

Clean up is under way.

I have been back to our house. The fire only was in one room, Alex’s room. The entire room is black. Not any colour anywhere. Alex's room is right beside mine, but mine is untouched.

All the rooms upstairs are damaged by smoke: my room, the guest bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, and the red room (family room) where we have our computers, bookshelves, and the piano.

So, here I am in the hotel room. 

I am somewhat bored because I have no computer. 

The good thing about being here is there are pretty good restaurants nearby including one that serves a Nutella crepe. 

We should be home in about two weeks time.

On Addressing the Fear of Knives

Is a pizza cutter a good spatula?

I can remember that my dad always carried a jack knife with him. A red Swiss Army Jack Knife, complete with a toothpick, a screw driver, a pair of scissors, a nail file, and of course a blade. It is the blade I remember – Doral sitting at the breakfast nook, taking out his knife and using it to clean under this fingernails. I can also remember Doral playing mumbley peg on Sunday mornings. After Sunday School the 12 year old deacons would gather around him, and those with knives would join in the game with him. Who could do the most steps in the game with their jack knives? That was the purpose of the game. I didn’t ever want to have the priesthood, but I did want to have a jack knife and I thought the two were inextricably combined. So I resigned myself. Jack knives were only for boys. I can remember Doral saying, when a boy gets his first jack knife, he should also get a box of band-aids which is the first thing I thought of when I knew the boys were going to get one.

It was Rebecca, thinking that Ben, Duncan and David were old enough to have whittling skills, and so she gifted each of the boys with a set of knives. A small one. A larger one. It is summer. They are in the woods. It all seemed to work for her.

Our training with them began in the kitchen – using them on their individual pizzas, cutting sausages, making pineapple spears. One pineapple each to begin with. When the pineapple was finally cut the boys had juice up and down their arms and all over their clothes ... from where they had wiped their hands. As well, the kitchen needed a thorough cleaning of the island, a wiping down of the cupboards and a mopping of the floor. I didn’t know two pineapples could slip so many ways.

Is a square pizza as good as a round one?

The knife training continued to the garage where they were collapsing the cardboard boxes to lay flat in one large box to be carted off to the recycling depot. A third time the knives were used was when a plastic-netted pack of chocolate gold covered coins were to be used at the some-more bonfire.

“How am I going to open this package,” Duncan said.

“I know how,” said Ben as he reached for his pocket.

 “I never thought of that,” said Duncan, reaching into this own pocket. I told them that the knife is never to be brought out for people to see for some people think that knives are weapons, though we know that they are tools. I never see the knives and wouldn’t know the boys are carrying them, until one is brought out.

All to myself?

“Let me see your new knife,” said Rebecca. “Sorry,” said Duncan. Grandma said that we are not to show them to people.

“I would like to see your new knives,” said Glen. “No, you aren’t gong to trick us.” “Knives is the one thing I never joke about,” said Glen and then on a chance to take a good look at their, he commented, “Nice balance and weight.” “A good knife needs to be sharp,” he continued. “Come and see me when it is time to sharpen your blades and I will show you how. Now, can you show me where the safety mechanism is on this knife?”

The boys obliged. They are comfortable carrying a knife in their pocket and having a back up in their camping pack.

Took a wrong turn at Albuquerque?

An English Pub

Duncan here.

On the way home from Florida, the plane got lost.

We had to take a number of side trips to get back home.

We were trying to get to Florida, but ended up taking a whole bunch of side trips.

First, it was England, where we stopped in at the pub for lunch.

 Then, we decided that Paris was in order...so why not?

Nothing like a rest on the Champs-Elysses?

 then off to China?

 Then a stop in Germany for octoberfest.

 And then off to Italy...

 ...for a rest at the Trevi Fountain...

Japan!?

Now, off to the Shuswap.

Duncan