Can You Send Me a Quote

Dotral Pilling

From Laynie Hicks,

I want to share a story.

I was trying to figure out today what I was going to do on our holiday. Glen determined this morning that we were unable to burn piles on our lot. Not only am I here at the lake to celebrate my Dad’s retirement, spend time with my kids on spring break, enjoy the beautiful lake, but am also here to take steps on our dream of building a house on our lot. What Grandpa wanted us to be able to do.

Graham and I finalized our building plans and are now at a stage where we can request quotes from General Contractor’s (GC’s) to build to ““lock up”. I decided today was going to be the day that I was going to make some calls to local GC’s.

I started with Timberline Solutions Ltd. They were happy to take my call and receive our drawings. They will be sending a quote. My next call was to a company called Green Emerald Construction. I was so pleased that another person decided to answer my phone call as I had been warned that builders are really busy right now. This very friendly voice said “hello”. I went into my introduction. My name, I have plans for a house, want a price, yada, yada, yarda… .   The gentleman asked me where I was building. I said Annis Bay. He explains to me that he used to play with friends on the bay. He then went on to ask me where I was located. I said I was on the “other side”. He says, “oh the Pillings”.  I remain silent.

The man I was speaking with goes on to ask me if I know any of the older Pillings. 

 I say “Yes”. 

 He says “who”.  

I am reluctant to say Earl. I think a good place to start is with Doral’s name. He say “yes” that was him. I said “That was my Grandpa, my Dad is his youngest son. 

 He says “I have a story about your Grandpa”. So I listen.

“In my early 20’s, my friends and I were on a houseboat. We were travelling along the lake close to a beach and we were drinking beer, having a great time. We came across a boat, what looked to be an abandoned boat. It had moss in it and some holes. We took the boat with us by strapping it to the back of the houseboat. When we returned to Sicamous we were met by the police. They charged me and my friends with theft.

When it came time to go to court I was the only one that showed up. The reason I showed up is because the Judge lived a few doors down from me and he knew my family. When I showed up to court I was put in a room with your Grandpa, Doral Pilling. I told your Grandpa the story about my friends and  me taking the boat. He listened and then explained that he used to fall asleep in that boat and would hit rocks all the time, which is why there were holes. Ultimately your Grandpa dropped the charges. He was a really nice man.”

I told Gary Arsenault that this story would make me smile forever. I thanked him for it and then said ,“Can you send me a quote”?

If you feel this is bloggable please share.

Laynie Hicks

The Blackberry Bushes

August 26, 2010

The vines on the blackberry bushes are hanging low, loaded with succulent fruit. Connor came over to wake Ed Saiedi so they could fill their buckets with berries to put on waffles. I handed Ed a long-sleeved shirt, partial protection against the vines that have a mind of their own, popping out to scratch my hands and arms when I fill my bucket.

A little later I leaned over the rail of my porch to ask a question, and heard an expletive from Ed, one uttered slowly with a long slide on every vowel. From the middle of the lakeside hill, he had slipped, sliding down a few yards until he was stopped by the vines that now entwined him.

“Hold everything, I will come down and help you disengage,” I called and as I was running down the spiral stairs I was thinking of Br’er Rabbit’s taunt to Brer Fox, “Cut off my legs! Do what'nsoever you want to do with me, Brer Fox, but please, please please? Don’t throw me in that briar patch!”

Later in the day Phillippe, the other student who came home with Connor told me that after the blackberries there had been another “incident”. The three men had been out fishing, Phillippe holding the rod. He tugged on his line and the hook came out of the water, swung through the air and lodged in Connor’s neck, a centimetre or two off of being in direct line with his Adam’s apple. They couldn’t get the hook out and went to Glen who took a picture and then drove Connor in the Dr. in Salmon Arm for a moment or two of day surgery.

By evening there was a report that there was a blackberry pie at Glen’s house, where I am sure it is still safe, since everyone there, but Connor, is on a diet.

I have no idea if a piece of the pie might have slipped past the bandage on Connor’s Adam’s apple.

Arta