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Friday, June 15, 2012

Photo of the Week - Coastal Redwoods

Coast Redwoods at Muir Woods, California


Coast redwoods occupy a narrow strip of land approximately 750 kilometres long and 8 to 75 km  wide along the Pacific coast.  The most southerly grove is in Monterey County, California, and the most northerly groves are in extreme southwestern Oregon.

This native area provides a unique environment with heavy seasonal rains - 2,500 millimetres. Cool coastal air and fog drip keep this forest consistently damp year round. Condensation from coastal fog accounts for a considerable part of the trees' water needs.  Several factors, including the heavy rainfall, create a soil with fewer nutrients than the trees need, causing them to depend heavily on the entire biotic community of the forest, and complete recycling of the trees when dead.

The thick, tannin-rich bark, combined with foliage starting high above the ground provides good protection from both fire and insects, contributing to the coast redwood's longevity. The oldest known specimen is about 2,200 years old.

 An estimated 95% or more of the original old-growth redwood forest has been cut down.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Finds in San Francisco

Being away from home offers two of my favourite opportunities - time to explore and stumbling upon treasures.  Sometimes I have an idea of what I might want, of stuff I can only find in a city or that has more choices than I could find in my small-but-trendy hometown.

Monday's search was for paper and cupcakes.

Julie and I ended up on Fillmore Street after her web search.  The Paper Source is one inspiring place to hang out; it is one of those places that leaves me a bit dizzy after an hour or so of visual stimulation - so many items I have never seen before.  I spent a lot.  The surprise was that most of what I bought was not paper; it was cloth ribbons.

And that's what happens.  I never know quite I am going to find.  And life is like that.  Really.  If you think about it. 

Which leads me to our next search.   We caught the bus to a cupcake place on Union Street.  Had the cupcake store been open on Mondays, we wouldn't have gone to seek out the next one on the list.  Had we not decided to walk down Fillmore instead of Steiner we wouldn't have found the shoe store.  The shoe store where Julie found 2 pairs of Italian shoes.

We walked to the second cupcake shop, Julie looking down admiring her new purchase which she decided to wear.

The iPhone led us down a few blocks.  We turned a corner and scanned the buildings.  I am always a bit amazed at seeing a place after seeing it on Google Maps.  Like it won't really be there.  The surprise is in the fact that I never know what a place is going to look like, not really.  I looked to my left and there it was, an array of pastel colours gleaming at us behind the glass counter.  Susie Cakes

I chose one coconut and one lemon.  Julie chose chocolate mint and vanilla with pink icing.



As I was eating my cupcake with crumbs all around me and sticky fingers, I had a few thoughts about my intrigue with these sweet treats.

On one hand, cupcakes make a lot of sense - buy only one item instead of a whole cake.  I don't have to be fully committed to my "cake."  Cupcakes are a popular indulgence, perfect for cosmopolitan cities where calories are tracked.  My grandmother would be astonished that there are whole stores devoted to cupcakes, that they even have their own name - cupcakery.

But what separates one shop from another?  Here's what I have noticed.  Red Velvet cupcakes, whose key ingredients are chocolate, red food colouring and cream cheese frosting are faddish.  So are minis.  At most places I can find chocolate and vanilla cupcakes topped with various flavours of icing - lemon, coconut, vanilla.  It certainly doesn't stop there.  Miette Cakes in San Francisco offers “Old-Fashioned” – a bittersweet chocolate cake with Italian meringue and candy-coated peanut.  Mission Minis offers small bite-sized cupcakes in 10 different varieties. 

To top it off, cupcakery stores are visions of colour and the epitome of esthetics.

And yet....

The magic of cupcakes is a delicate matter.  They can have too much frosting.  Or too little.  Too dry.  Too boring. 

Perhaps it is all about the quest, of finding the pinnacle. 










Sunday, May 27, 2012

Photo of the Week - Kangaroo

I have a dream.  I have had a dream for a long time.  I would like to go to Australia.  I am not sure of when the seed was planted.  It has followed me much of my life and though I have saved money several times specifically for this adventure, life has intervened. 

It sits on my to-do list and the more I experience the world, the more I think I need to go there.  Here's my reasons:
  • No matter how many wines I have tried, my favourite is an Australian Shiraz.  Eaglehawk to be precise.  Perhaps you think that I haven't tried enough wines.  Perhaps you think that I haven't given BC wines enough of a try.  Last week when I was in Kelowna, I tried 17 types of wine.  And none matched the Shiraz.  If Kelowna's wine tours are grand, I think Australia's will be spectacular.
  • There is an Australian Shiraz that shares my name - Rawson Retreat.  Looks like some of the ancestors have made it there already.  Which means if I go to Australia, I could see it as a family reunion.  I hope they aren't the branch of the family that had to leave town if you know what I mean.
  • Australia has it all - beaches, cities, country, a most unusual rock - Uluru - and animals that we just don't see on this side of the globe.  That pretty much matches my style.
Which brings me to the photograph.  If you can't get to Australia, bring some of it here.  The kangaroo above  lives close to Kelowna.  The owner told me that it was really a wallaroo which is somewhere between the size of a kangaroo and a wallaby.  Apparently there are about 60 species of kangaroos, all residing on one island.  Clearly, I have much more to learn.

This fellow (could be a female) lives with about 10 others on Kangaroo Creek Farm

Last Sunday, I ambled alongside toddlers to the outer edges of the grassy area where the kangaroos were nibbling on grass.  Some of the children had branches of leaves that grabbed the kangaroos attention.  Focussed on their lunch, the kangaroos were nonchalant as we pet them.  I approached one and opened my hand so it could see I had no harmful intentions.  And then it decided that I looked edible and bit my finger. 

I was bit by a kangaroo.

How about that for a first?


Monday, February 20, 2012

Photo of the Week - Cuba

Hibiscus growing by the side of the road

Sunday, February 12, 2012

First Time Cuba

Plaza de la Catedral, Havana
The server places the refresco importado (Coca Cola) in front of Margarita and Heather.  I have la limonada (lemonade), which is fresh, tart, not too sweet and far better than anything I could have imagined.  We have spent the morning exploring Havana.  Our first time in Cuba.  Margarita is our tour guide, a teacher who helps Cubans learn English.

This is the hottest we have been since arriving in Cuba 5 days ago, our first time away from the cooling winds off the Atlantic Ocean.  We are staying in Veradero, 135 kilometres to the south of Havana, in an all-inclusive where having fun and relaxing is the prime activity.  Cubans have reminded us that this is their winter and indeed I see many with long pants and closed-toed shoes.  Most days I wear capris, short sleeves and sandals. 

We are lucky.  The weather for our vacation has been full of sunshine and temperatures from 26 to 28 degrees Celsius.  Other Canadians who have come to Cuba this year have had rain and cold weather. 

Our intention today was to catch a bus from Veradero to Havana; we went to the bus station at 7:10 am.  The cost is 10 pesos for the one-way trip.  When we got out of the taxi, a man with bulging chest muscles enveloped by his Canada t-shirt approached us.  They offered to take us to Havana for 15 pesos each; they promised it would only be 1 hour and 45 minutes.  The buses take much longer.  Our consideration was short.

The car that got us to Havana was a 1976 Jetta with black windows.  There are few cars on the road.  Especially when I think of home.  The cars that were made in the United States pre-date the time that the US put an embargo on Cuba – 1960.  Cubans are very handy with caring for their possessions, a matter of necessity being the mother of invention. Most of the cars are full of passengers; Heather notices that the drivers are men.  On a previous excursion into the country, the tour guide told us about Cuba’s national sport – hitchhiking – and that is what we saw along the route.  When we got to Havana, our taxi driver made us an offer.  He will take us back to Veradero at the end of the day for $20 pesos each. 

Margarita decided that double-decker bus is the best way for us to see New and old Havana.  We got off the bus at the Castillo de la Real Fuerza, considered to be the oldest stone fortress in the Americas.  Inside we found treasures retrieved from sunken ships, replicas of old ships such as Columbus’ three, and weapons used to defend Cuba. 

View of Old Havana from the Watchtower
On the second floor, the attendant offered us to go to the Watchtower, which is up a spiral staircase.  I say yes!  I ascend alone.  At the top I see majestic views of Old Havana.  I wished I knew more about architecture.  Back on the street, we find our way to the Plaza de la Catedral.  In the centre is a café.  It is here we have chosen to sit before the rest of the tour.

We ask Margarita many questions about life in Cuba, about how the money system works (there are two types of money in Cuba), education (education is free), healthcare (there are a shortage of supplies), where she goes to vacation (Veradero).  This is a conversation that winds its way throughout our day. 

Behind me I can hear the four-man band playing.  Live music is a fundamental part of Cuban life we are discovering.  Three adorned women have set up stations on the edge of the plaza with two chairs, a table and a doll.  “They help you with your future,” Margarita tells us. 

A woman supervises the washroom inside.  She hands me four squares of toilet paper.  A dish with coins sits on the table beside her.  Margarita has advised me the amount of the tip.  I put in my 10 cents beside the $1 and $2 pesos.  When I come out of the stall, my coin has vanished but the others have remained.  I figure she doesn’t want to encourage my kind of tip.

When I return to the table, we decide to walk to La Bodeguita del Medio, famous for being the birthplace of the Mojito and the celebrities who have hung out there.  The walls are covered with signatures of the famous and not so famous.  The place is packed.  “Would you like to see inside?”  I nod.  Margarita steps into the restaurant and leads us around the tables, into the back and out again.  I am impressed with her confidence.

Bronze statue of Ernest Hemingway at La Floridita
Back on the street, Margarita suggests that if we want to see El Floridita, it is close.  El Floridita is another restaurant-bar, famous for daiquiris and for being a favourite spot for Ernest Hemingway.  Margarita asks if we want a daiquiri.  I can see the place is busy.  “Not for me,” I say.  Again, she offers to show us the place. Again, she breezes inside. In the left corner of the bar, there is a bronze statue of Ernest Hemingway.

There is a lot to see in Old Havana.  The buildings are mesmerizing, some in disrepair and some having been restored over the years.  I see hotels and restaurants and bars and apartments on the upper floors.  What I do not see is places to buy clothing or food.  Along one street, we find a place next to a bar that sells ron (rum). 

We wind our way to the train station where we have agreed to meet our taxi driver at 6 pm.  With many more blocks to go, we hire a taxi for $3 pesos.  He lets us off close to a restaurant.  Outside the restaurant, the maître d tells us that this is the best food in Havana. 

The food is great, one of the best meals we have had in Cuba so far.  The price is surprisingly high.  That’s the way it is in Old Havana. 

Heather watches the time.  We leave the restaurant at 10 minutes after 6.  Margarita is not concerned.  “He will wait.”  I wonder how she knows that.  She shrugs her shoulder and leads us down the street to the train station.  The taxi is not in front.  We walk through the train station and down the block.

“Where are we going?”  I ask.

“To meet the driver,” she says.

Around the corner and down another street, we find a line up of cars.  Our taxi is in the middle, our driver waiting for us.

And this is how we learn about Cuba time.

Thursday, January 05, 2012

How I spent my Christmas vacation

"Where are you going for Christmas?"

"Winnipeg."

"Don't forget your winter jacket.  After all, it's not called Winter-peg for nothing."  

Talking about Winnipeg brings out the joker in everyone.  What will be remembered about Christmas 2011 is that it was not typical prairie winter weather.  Most days the temperature was above freezing and where was the snow?  

We canned the idea of sledding or cross country skiing and got down to the business of origami.  Which fit well with our sleeping schedule of bed at 3 am and up at 11.  What I found out on my winter vacation that it isn't too hard to fill the hours between midnight and 3.  

Ryan brought his book on unit origami.  Also called modular origami, it is the paper folding technique of using more than one piece of paper to create a larger more complex structure which may be a tetrahedron, cube or other shapes.  

Here is some of the paper folding we did:  


And here are the instructions:


What I learned was that if you want to make a cube, you need 6 of these.  And then to put them together, you need a Ryan. 



Saturday, December 10, 2011

What is a travel writer?


This photo of the week was inspired by one of the writing prompts from November's 30 Day Indie Travel Project.  The prompt was about a favourite travel quote.  

I found a list of inspiring travel quotes on the Matador Network website, which has a department called MatadorU where I am currently doing a travel writing course.  (I am on Chapter 9 of 12!)  Here is the quote:

"Too often...I would hear men boast of the miles covered that day, rarely of what they had seen." by Louis L'Amour

Mr. L'Amour is not an author that I normally quote.  I haven't even read any of his work.  Western fiction is not my chosen genre - it's a guy thing I figure.  When I did a search, I found out that when he died in 1988, he had 105 published books.  He definitely had a lot to say, even delving into travel writing with his quote.  

Which brings me to the quote and how it relates to me.  As I have been moving through my travel writing course, I have been introduced to many ideas and people writing in the field.  People travelling in the field.  Some people have logged the number of countries where they have travelled.  Travelling to every country is one blogger's goal.  

I am in kindergarten compared to them.  The number of countries in the world is tricky to count because there is some discrepancy but it is between 193 and 196.  One blogger has been to 70.  

I have been to 3.  Unless I count the time the motor fell off the boat in the Usumacinta River.   We rowed to the closest shore while the helmsman tied the motor onto the back of the boat with a rope.  That shore belonged to Guatemala.  We were there for about 20 minutes.  I am thinking that when the travel blogger said he had been to 70 countries, he didn't mean stepping inside the border for less than half an hour.  So I don't count Guatemala. 

I don't count Belize either.  Technically I was there for one hour.  I didn't get off the plane.  And I can't remember why.  What I do remember is sitting on a tarmac in a Central American country is very uncomfortable.  

When I thought of the 70-country blogger and myself, I wondered what makes a travel writer.  Louis L'Amour helped.  So did my friend Katherine who said it isn't how many countries that you have been to but how those travels have changed you.  

This photo, taken at Kaslo's May Days, captured the sentiment:





What is a travel writer, really?



Saturday, December 03, 2011

Photo of the Week - Sedona

Sedona, Arizona - February 2011

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Day 29 of the Indie Travel Project - One Word


 E X P A N S I V E






BootsnAll Travel Network invited bloggers from around the world to participate in a daily writing project for November.  Each day, BootsnAll sent out a prompt for that day's writing.  The above is from Day 29 - One Word.  The prompt was:   What does travel mean to you in one word?

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Day 26 of the Indie Travel Project - Photo

Kootenay Lake, BC

Six Mile Beach is a hidden treasure.  Not that it is a secret.  If you ask any local within the area, they will point to the roadway that leads down to the beach.  If they have time, they will tell you that it is a longer-than-you-might-think forested walkway or to be watchful of bears.  But unless you are told, you won't find Six Mile Beach except if you are on a boat and then it is more than obvious.  You might stumble over it. 

The narrow spit of sand juts into the west arm of the Kootenay Lake, a north-south lake carved by glaciers long ago and fed now by creeks that have a main line to glaciers.

The season for swimming is short, 3 months on a good year.  What I have found is that the heat in the air does not quickly translate into heat in the water so when I am sitting on the beach, the sun has heated up my shoulders and they feel on fire.  The lake beckons me.  But that first time each summer that I venture out, every body part under the water is paralyzed and every body part above the water is shivering.  Glacier water is like that. 

Locals call it refreshing.  Translated that means "you are really a wimp ass if you complain."

Since nobody, certainly not me, wants to look like a wimp ass, I traipse into the water, dunk my body so my shoulders are wet and skedaddle back to my beach chair.  Any memory of heat has been totally obliterated from my mind.  I watch a beach jock run into the water and dive in, head first.  A show off.  Probably a local.

By August the lake gets warmer and adults join the children who have been swimming in the lake for two months.  (Is there some biological reason why children don't have the same aversion to cold water as adults?)  

A few weeks into fall, I drive past the lake and see mist sitting on the surface.

"What is it?" I ask my friend.

"It's the lake cooling down."

Cooling down?  What is colder than cold?

_________________________________________

Starting November 1, BootsnAll launched a project called 30 Days of Indie Travel. They have invited bloggers from around the world to join them in a daily blogging effort reflecting on our past travel experiences.  Each day, they post a new prompt on BootsnAll articles. Bloggers can follow the prompts as strictly or loosely as they like, interpreting them in various ways and responding via text, photos or video posted on their own blogs.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Day 24 of the Indie Travel Project - Giving Thanks

This year I have done a lot of exploring and pondering the life of a travel writer.  In that spirit, here are my thanks:

1.  My mobility

I spent two days of this week on crutches because of a hamstring strain.  On the day of the injury, all of my plans were kyboshed.  I was grounded.  What seemed so simple earlier in the day, like taking out the compost, was impossible. In an ordinary day, I don’t think about my mobility.  I realized how much I take this for granted.  My independence was swept away faster than I could even imagine.  Which brings me to point #2.

2.  The wonderful friends and family I have

Heather dropped her basement-cleaning chore as soon as I called.  Later she expressed her own gratitude for the distraction.  I am so lucky to have great friends and family who would come from far away if I needed them.  For my two days of being house-bound, friends brought me food, drugs and a lot of well wishes.  And the more I travel, I am blown away by the amazing people I meet.

3.  Choices

As I consider a winter vacation, the biggest dilemma I have right now is the possibilities.  Airlines, hotels, resorts, countries.  What a wealth of abundance!

4.  Being born at a time when round the world travel is a possibility


Not that long ago, RTW travel was available only to explorers who risked their lives to find out what was beyond the expanse of water.  From a bigger perspective, there is so much we are learning about the cosmos and our journey with other celestial bodies.  The more we learn about outer (and inner) space, the more we find out how precious we are.

5.  MatadorU

Through the MatadorU on-line travel writing course, my horizons have expanded more than if I pursued the career on my own.  The experience has helped me think about what it is that I want, introduced me to ideas that I knew nothing about, and connected me with a world-wide community of people who are passionate about seeing the world.


I am grateful. 


This prompt is from Day 24 of BootsnAll's 30 Day Indie Travel Project:
 Seeing what others have – and don’t have – around the world often helps us appreciate our own good fortune. What are you thankful for this year ?

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Day 22 of the Indie Travel Project - Transit

He measured the distance in miles and then converted them to kilometres for me. I imagine that if I asked him today, he would know those numbers, even though it has been well over 2 years since he traveled the road.

The 8-year relationship was always long distance, a good deal of that decision influenced by me.  I couldn’t imagine it differently.

Twice a month, one of us waited for the other on Friday night.  I left after work as people were organizing their dinners.  The roads were quiet.  Just how I liked them. 

By the time I got to the turnoff road to the border, there was no one else on the road except deer, moose or elk.  As I slowed down for the tight corners around the rock bluffs, I looked to my left for the small gravel road that hugged the side of the mountain and disappeared around the trees.  The road always caught my attention, like a what’s-wrong-with-this picture where our eyes are riveted to the odd article sitting in a cloud. 

A few minutes later I slowed for customs.  I turned off the music and put on my regular glasses.  Border guards don’t like shades.

“What is the purpose of your trip?” 

“I am visiting a friend.”  I knew that my friend answered it differently. 

As I passed through the border, I settled into my seat and turned up the music.  I chose the CDs for the journey, lively rock music full of energy. The trees hugged the road closer on this side of the border.   

Even in the height of summer when tourists retreated to these northern lakes, the roads begged for action.  Except for a few small towns, only cottages dotted the sides of the road.  No cell service here.  Once when I drove in the dark of winter, I was surprised to see so many lights pouring out of windows on the sides of the hills.  Not everything is as it appears.

As I edged the winding river, forests on my right, I watched the mountains lowering in the sky ahead of me and towering in the rear view mirror.  The final bend in the road and the sky opened in front of me.  My eyes peeled upwards at all that vastness.  A straight stretch with fields of grass on both sides.  This was my favourite part of the road.  My prairie roots. 

The road winded its way back into lakes and trees.  Watching for deer, this was wildlife country. 

When I merged onto the two-lane highway, city anticipation bolted through me.  New ideas of places to check out on the weekend popped into my head.  I tuned the radio to pre-programmed stations. I flicked buttons, the novelty of so many choices. 

At the outskirts of the city, I turned left down a back road that detoured the busy main street.  Several kilometres down the road, I turned right.  I was on a rise and ahead were farmer’s fields.

I was almost there.  I knew that the road would take me up over a hill and back into the city.  I knew I would be just as delighted to see him as he was to see me. 

But for now, I was immersed in sky, land, and trees. 

 
Day 22 of BootsnAll's Indie Travel Project was prompted by this:
The word travel comes from a French word meaning “work” and sometimes, getting there is work. Between crowded buses, long airline delays, overnight trains and crazy rickshaw rides, transportation can be stressful, but it can also be a rewarding part of the tip. Tell us about a time when the journey became more important than the destination. 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Visitor at the Ashram

Today I am beginning a new feature of this blog - Photo of the Week, a picture from my travels whether near or far. 

The following photo was taken at the Yasodhara Ashram on the East Shore of Kootenay Lake.   

Visitor at the Yasodhara Ashram, August 28, 2011







Sunday, November 20, 2011

Day 20 of Indie Travel Project

Yesterday,  I jumped into the Indie Travel Project writing about the first 4 prompts with some funky notion that I would catch up.  If this day hadn't gone sideways, I would be feeling optimistic.   Instead, I was more inspired by today's topic - Drink - and I could really use one about now.

Day 20 - Drink:  Just as the cuisine of a place reveals clues about its culture and history, so does its signature local drink. What’s the best drink you had on the road, and did the drink have any connection to the place where you drank it or the people you drank with?

Years ago, a colleague and I drove to the West End of Vancouver after a day of workshops in nearby New Westminster.  The West End is a densely-populated, action-filled,  groovy part of the city bordered by Stanley Park and downtown Vancouver.  Denman Street, a short 8 blocks from Robson to Davie is a hub of activity with great restaurants and cosmopolitan shops.  This was our destination.

We decided to go for drinks before dinner.  My companion suggested Delilah's, a martini bar and restaurant.  We sat at the bar.

"What would like to drink?" asked the bartender.

"I have never had a martini before.  What would you suggest?"  I asked.

He asked me about my preferences for sweet or sour.  He recommended the Crantini, a blend of both.

As we sipped on our drinks, we watched him make martinis for the other patrons.  We asked him what made a good martini, what was the most popular, and remembering James Bond, we asked if he preferred shaken or stirred.

"If you want shaken, you can find that at A & W."

For some reason, that struck me as quite funny.  I laughed quite heartily.   He ignored us and went to the other end of the bar for ice.  When he came back, I said, "You are a pretty funny guy."

"What I have noticed is that the more my customers drink, the funnier I get."









 



Saturday, November 19, 2011

30 Days of Travel

In addition to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWrMo), November is also National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo). The idea behind both of these projects is to write every day; in one you produce a draft of a novel and the second you increase your postings on your blog by 30.

In that spirit, an on-line travel network called BootsnAll has launched a daily blogging project reflecting on travel experiences. Each day, they post a new prompt and bloggers are encouraged to "follow the prompts as strictly or loosely as they like, interpreting them in various ways and responding via text, photos or video posted on their own blogs."

Seeing as today is November 19th, I have happened upon this a little late. Still, it all sounds intriguing. Here I go.

Day 1 Prompt - Goals: What were your travel goals last year? Did you accomplish them? What travel goals do you hope to accomplish this year? 

Setting goals is a bit of a challenge for me. I tend to follow inspiration or see what arises. That is how I found the biggest travel surprise of this year - I am fascinated with LA. It was largely an unplanned trip with my son and his girlfriend, where we let each day unfold as we were energized by the moment. I had a great time. I can also see how that approach may be problem.  My post-high school graduation was to go to Australia.  I still haven't been there. 


Exploring LA - Kodak Theatre in Hollywood

What I have learned is that many things in life happen because we plan for them. Australia needs planning.

My goals for this year are to travel in the winter (January 2012) to somewhere in the sun; I am currently checking out possibilities. Any ideas would be helpful. And I need to get on that Australia idea.

Day 2 Prompt - Embracing Change:
Change can be exciting and bring new joys into our lives. But it can present challenges that frustrate or annoy us. How has travel changed you in the last year? Did you welcome these changes or resist them at the time, and how do you feel about them now?

In 2010, I did my first solo trip outside of the country. What I found out through that process was travel can have plenty of challenges. From being stranded in Denver during a spring snowstorm, I learned that sometimes when it appears that there are no choices, all I can change is my attitude.

Day 3 Prompt - Music: Music and travel memories often go hand in hand. A song can inspire our explorations, or it can take us back to a specific place and time. Tell us about your travel playlist and what it means to you.

When I drive across Washington State, I always think of Marshall Rosenberg, author of Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life. A friend of mine gave me a four-CD set about NVC; I listened to it as I passed miles and miles of agricultural land. Looking back, I can see many seeds were being planted.

Day 4 Prompt - Mistakes: Everyone makes mistakes. We forget to ask for Coke without ice in Mexico and spend the rest of the trip in the bathroom. Or we arrive at the airport for a 7pm flight only to realize the flight left at 7am. Tell us the story of your worst travel mistake.

One of my first journeys I had as an adult was travelling to Mexico. My children were about 5 and 7 years old.  While I was gone, they had a great time with their grandmother, living by grandma's rules (read: spoil them). Not too long ago, I came across a photo from the airport departure as I was leaving on that journey.  They sat on a bench, both hunched over in their winter jackets, mouths drooping, and tears in their eyes.
________________________________________

There it is - four days in one. Will I catch up? Tune in tomorrow.





 





Sunday, November 13, 2011

Ymir Writing Retreat


Ymir Palace - Ymir, BC
What do you call a writer who isn’t writing? That sounds like a stand-up’s opening line.  Here I am hanging out with other writers at the Ymir Writing Retreat, an annual event devoted to encouraging the writer within.

And nothing is coming.  Writer’s block.  That term doesn’t adequately describe what happens.  What do writers DO when inspiration flees?  What I have found is that distractions move in with their toothbrushes and PJs, ready for the long haul. 

The hands-down best diversion for writers is the internet. Which is why writers like Barbara Kingsolver plant themselves in a room with no access. 

The internet is so handy.  You can be in the same room with other writers as I am doing at the writing retreat.  Laptops in front of us, none of us knows what the other is doing.  They may be thinking whatever I am writing is brilliant and it is just a matter of time until a publisher seeks me out.  They may be wishing they were so productive. 

But really they don’t know.  For those of you who are curious about what a writer does, here is a synopsis of my day.

 I bunked myself at the table, laptop in front of me.  My writing pals sat in the other chairs, quiet and focused. I decided on fiction, a tale of 3 people wound up in their 30-year histories.  Where to begin?  I stared at the screen. 

I remembered a word that had caught my attention earlier.  Iterative. I meant to look that up. A method used in computational mathematics.  Curious.  After a couple other links, I remembered my task.  Get back to work.  A plot.  That’s what I needed.  Something compelling like The Tudors.  (Where did that come from?)  That Henry the VIII was such a tyrant.  Who succeeded him?  Was it a boy? No, that was the problem – Henry beheaded his wives because they didn’t produce males.  Wikipedia will have the answer.

It was his son Edward but not for long.  Nine years.  There was a link to the list of Henry’s wives.  Six of them. How many were beheaded?  Only two.  Anne and Catherine.  There were 3 Catherines according to Wikipedia.  The last wife was the god daughter of the first wife.   This is getting complicated. 

Enough of that.  Back to work.  Where was I?  Forget the plot right now.  What about the angle?  It could be the view from the mother, her lover or the gardener.  But it doesn’t make sense from the lover’s perspective as he isn’t around for long. 

Has the sky clouded over?  I thought the snow might melt today after all it was so bright this morning.  Still snow on the ground.  Good thing I put on the hiking boots before I came out here.  I would never have expected to be walking on packed snow. 

I looked at the blank page on the screen in front of me.  The gardener’s name could be Julio.  I can see him being from Central America.  Is Julio a Central American name?  I am sure Google would know.   Origins of Julio.  The Internet was down.  I gave myself a mental note to check it out later.  Julio is a good gardener’s name.  What about a last name?  Rodriquez?  Is that how to spell it?  How about the lover?  How about Martin?  How about Martine? 

I looked at the top of my screen.  The internet was back up.  I immediately thought of my e-mail. You never know who might be trying to get a hold of me.  No new mail. Maybe someone was trying to call me.  The cell phone reception was a bit dicey out here in the forest.  No new messages.  The phone needed to be charged.  It seems to need to be charged a lot more frequently these days.  Is it time to get a new one?  There – plugged in.  What about the computer?   The battery had 13% remaining.  I found the plug in and the wall outlet. 

Back into my seat.  I switched to the word processing document.  Not one word on the page. 

Writer’s block.  Google had 12.5 million hits.  A popular condition.  I looked at the browser tab.  I had one new Tweet from Advice to Writers:

Work on a computer that is disconnected from the Internet. ZADIE SMITH


Sunday, October 23, 2011

Let's Meet in Phoenix

I wrote the following article for an travel writing course at MatadorU in the spring of 2011.  As I read it over, I thought of how fitting it is as we have been reflecting on Steve Jobs' life.


Let's Meet in Phoenix

I turn the bottle upside down, squeeze a dollop of hair control cream onto my hand and spread it evenly on my head.  I am thinking of the suitcase sitting on my bed and what is inside.  Will I need anything else?

My mind dashes ahead to the following week when I will be leaving again, next time to San Francisco to see my son. I remember a phone call from him the week before.

“Phoenix is hot.”

“Yes,” I said, “When were you in Phoenix?”

“Last week.”

“And what were you doing there?”

“Meeting my coworkers, playing poker, staying up late.”

Ryan described his trip to Phoenix.  He wanted me to look at the website of where he stayed.  He explained that he would probably be going to Phoenix once a month. He has just started a new job for another dot com company. He was excited; most of his jobs up to this point in his life he has had to stay put.   “Good for you,” I said.  I thought of how much he loved to see new places.

After I scrunch my hair, I walk into the kitchen.  I go to the fridge.  Leftovers this morning.  The last of the perishables.  I check my e-mail as I eat chicken salad.  It is late when I walk out to the car.  I grumble at the grey sky.   I am sure the sky is not grey in Phoenix.

The weather in Phoenix intrigued Ryan.  He did not think he would like the heat if he lived in Phoenix after living in San Francisco for over 2 years.  I had more to say about Sedona where I had gone two months before for a 4-day exploration.  Arizona was new to both of us.

The coffee is brewing when I get to work.  Andrea is setting up for the day’s workshop.

I go into the training room.  The tables are set up in a square.  I move the 10-foot wide white board to the back of the room.  The monstrosity’s redeeming feature is the rolling wheels.  It is after 9 when the participants arrive.  I am ready. At 1 o’clock, I play the video of Steve Jobs giving a commencement address.  Connecting the dots.  Love and loss.  Death.   Between his three stories, he explains that this gives us permission to love what we do.

I think of my son again.  What he shares with Steve Jobs is his love of computers.  His first job was working for Amazon in Seattle.  The day he moved to Seattle, I was there too, my first visit to the city.  My boyfriend and I had gone on a holiday together and it coincided with my son’s job start.  When he got off the plane, I met him by the luggage carousel.  “Welcome to your new home,” I said as if this was where I had always been.

The video ends.  The rest of the afternoon is a swirl of next plans and saying farewell.

When I get home at the end of the day, Cynthia is sitting on the couch with the cat. I change my clothes and we load the car.  Mary is ready when we pull up.  A bag of snacks and heavy bags.  The stuff of writers. When we pull up outside the Ymir Palace, a group has gathered around the entrance.  We hug our friends. Soon Randi arrives.  We finish our wine and walk down to the Ymir Hotel.  The Friday night jam session is in full swing.  We visit for an hour and a half until our food arrives.

I look at the table filled with skiers.  What would our lives have been like if my children never moved away?  Would they be with their friends drinking beer at the end of a snowy day in a pub in Ymir?  I think about Seattle, Phoenix and make a wish for other parallel experiences with my son.

The rain is falling when we go outside.  I walk up the hill to the former brothel with my 3 friends. Between us, we have 9 children who have gone off into the world.  All of them far away.  Leaving is a story that weaves its way around the globe. How many miles am I from where I was born?  And I wonder about this story that is repeated again and again.  What calls us out into the world?

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Summer of 2012

Here is where I've been...
Birch Bay, Washington - July 9, 2011



The Gum Wall, Pike Place Market, Seattle, WA - July 11, 2011


The Gold River Follies and me - Rossland, BC - July 26, 2011



The Samba Band, Market Fest, Nelson BC - August 19, 2011



The Beatles (AKA Revolver), Balfour, BC - August 20, 2011


Visitor at the Yasodhara Ashram, Riondel, BC - August 28, 2011

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Space Travel


For years, I have joked about Kootenay astronomers having a hard time finding work.  The mountains hide a lot of the sky. Also during the winter in the mountains, there are a lot of clouds.  Between clouds and mountains, being a sky watcher is tricky.  What we can see is quite limited which I understood every time I ventured out into the flat lands.  The prairies have so much sky.  That is the place to view the stars.

The Big Dipper
The community event offered a view of the night sky with an amateur astronomer.  My friend BJ and I decided to check it out.  Wayne had set up two telescopes by the time we arrived. With a light laser, he pointed at the Big Dipper and singled out one of the stars in the “handle.”  Through the telescope, we could see that there were actually two stars, double stars.  The two stars are also called “horse and rider,” and can be seen with the naked eye; they have been used as a test for eyesight. Mizar is really a system of stars.

The sky was perfectly clear. While we waited for Jupiter to rise, Wayne showed us two kinds of nebula, a word that comes from Latin and meaning cloud.  Nebula consists of gases, dust and matter and is the place where stars are born.  This is also how stars die.  The nebula where stars were being formed was much larger than the dying one; the other distinction is their colour.  Astronomers like Wayne are able to detect whether stars are on their way in or out. 

Our next sighting was a globular cluster which is a spherical collection of stars that are bound together by gravity.  When I looked through the telescope, I saw thousands of dots of light.  I was blown away. Our galaxy, the Milky Way, has about 150 to 158 globular clusters.  The Milky Way, Wayne told us, has over 400 billion stars.  And our sun is one of them.  And it is only a medium-sized galaxy.  It is estimated that there are 170 billion galaxies. 

I can’t even imagine what that would look like.  The numbers are dizzying and the more I looked up into the sky, I felt simultaneously how expansive the universe is and then how small we are.   What BJ noticed was how much the Big Dipper moved in the sky, and then realized that it really was us moving.

Intrigued by figuring out how fast we are moving, I called Wayne.  Here is what he said:

  • we are spinning on our axis (which we see in the 24 hour clock);
  • we are revolving around the sun (which gives us the 365 or so days in a year);
  • our sun is spinning around the hub of the Milky Way Galaxy; and
  • our galaxy is also moving.

After some research, here’s what I found about our movement through space:

  • The speed of our axis spin can be easily calculated.  The Earth’s circumference is 40,075 kilometres and there are 23.93 hours in a day.  The result of the division is 1,675 kilometres per hour. 
  • In a day, the Earth travels 2.5 million kilometres around the sun. 
  • Our solar system revolves around the galaxy at about 220 kilometres per second. 
  • And our galaxy is cruising through space at about 1,000 kilometres per second. 

We are in a hurry!

Jupiter
Just as Wayne promised, by 11 pm, we saw Jupiter rising in the East; the planets are on the same elliptical path as the sun and moon so they rise in the East and set in the West.  Because of the Earth’s atmosphere the best viewing was when it was higher in the sky.  When I looked through the lens, I saw four of Jupiter’s moons and dark-coloured bands.  Spectacular!

A man and his young daughter alternated telescope time with us; he told us that he just moved from Israel where he could not see the stars because of the glow from city lights.  I looked up.  The sky was getting darker and the stars were increasing. 

My mountain home is a wonderful place for star watching!

A few days later, I found my copy of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos.  This book published in 1980 follows the popular 13-part television series of the same name.  He explains the speed with which Earth is moving through the Universe.  He says, “we have always been space travelers.” 


Sunday, September 11, 2011

Coffee Culture


“Where’s the best place to get a latte?”   Thanks to the Coffee Mania wave, I can even find a café in whistle-stop towns.  My vocabulary, spending habits and preferences has unfolded over the past 20 years as I have been swept along into the rise of coffee popularity.  Though my body has spurned coffee, I remain a wannabe, captivated by its aroma and sweet-bitterness. 

The quest for the best java has morphed over time.  Years ago, my father would drive his half ton to the local diner and park alongside other trucks.  Inside, the men sat in a line at the counter on swivel stools where they caught each other up on the news of the day.  As each one seated, a waitress flipped a cup over in front of the customer with one hand and poured the coffee from the pot she held in the other.  Cream was in metal containers and sugar was poured out of a glass jar with a metal lid.  It was rare that they ordered anything to eat.  Coffee cups were topped up, and once that was done, they all went off to do their chores.  The women who poured the coffee were called waitresses, and what came out of the pot was never questioned. 

Today, baristas serve up our drinks, a long list of possibilities centred on an espresso.  The customer is frequently conversed in the specific language, and the degree of strength of their cup. 

What is espresso?  People often think that it is about the type of coffee bean or grind, but it is about the preparation method.  Each cup begins by forcing hot water under pressure through a finely ground coffee.  Depending on different regional preferences, the coffee beans used may be dark or lighter, a result of beans chosen and the roasting process. The result is a thicker consistency than drip coffee, and a reddish-brown foam on the surface, called crema.  From this base, other variations are created such as cappuccinos, lattes, americanos and mochas.  Prepared by a barista, an Italian word for bartender, each cup is presented in an individual, “just-for-you” fashion.  And fashionable it has become, with recognizable logos on the sides of to-go cups, and the emergence of the word grande into everyday language.  Selecting what to drink at a coffee bar has also become stylish, and ever changing; for example, one new trend is a Canadiano which is an espresso with added drip coffee.  A Banff café calls this one a “caffeine avalanche.” 

Italy is the birthplace of espresso. It was there, in 1901, that the first espresso machine was patented. In North America, Seattle is perhaps the most well known city for its coffee, and perhaps because this is the birthplace of Starbucks, and other roasteries such as Seattle’s Best Coffee.  Starbucks opened in 1971 across from Seattle’s Pike Place Market, a popular visitors’ attraction.  By February 2008, they had 15,700 stores in 43 countries, and in 2006, they bought 32 million pounds of coffee.

Smaller coffee roasteries abound in Seattle.   Espresso Vivace in Seattle’s Capitol Hill district identifies itself as an Italian-style coffee house.  Vivace’s is a vibrant culinary delight with enthusiastic baristas who create spectacular coffee art on their lattes and cappuccinos.  The motto at Vivace is “una bella tazza di caffe,” – a beautiful cup of coffee.  They take their motto seriously.  One of the founders has created a book on professional espresso techniques and a video called “Caffe Latte Art.”

By the time, I stumbled upon Vivace on Broadway Avenue, I knew that the secret of a great cup of coffee was freshness, both in the preparation and in the roasting of the carefully chosen beans.  Vivace embodies both.

The pursuit of excellence in a divine cup of espresso stretches far beyond Seattle and Italy.  In my hometown of Nelson, BC, Oso Negro, coffee roastery and coffee bar, was immensely popular from the start.   In 1993, the roastery occupied a 200-square foot room and has now expanded to roasting 4 tons a month.  At Oso Negro, freshness is emphasized; employees advise that customers’ newly purchased coffees be used within 4 weeks.  The popularity of Oso Negro has locals bringing a bag when they go away on vacation, and former residents requesting it from afar.

For those who are insistent on the ultimate in freshness, the roasting of coffee beans can also be done at home.  For $89 plus shipping, a person can buy Freshroast Plus 8.

Roasting coffee beans is an acquired skill.   An Oso Negro video of the art of coffee roasting illustrates the miniscule time between a perfect roast, and one that is burnt.  The results are what make a coffee popular, or not.

Starbucks, for example, have been criticized for the bitterness of their coffee, and nicknamed Charbucks.  Bitterness is all in the taste of the beholder.

The growth of Starbucks and independent coffee houses have not gone unnoticed by the big companies who are vying for our coffee dollars.  McDonalds pounced into the lucrative coffee market in 2006 when they announced their Premium Roast Blend to increase their ailing sales.  Then, in May 2009, they launched a $100 million advertising campaign for the McCafe line of espresso drinks, which are aimed to be an affordable alternative to coffee houses.   Burger King’s entry is the BK Joe, which comes in either regular or “turbo strength,” which has 40% more caffeine.  Dunkin’ Donuts bills itself as  “America's largest retailer of coffee-by-the-cup” with their fair-trade offerings that now include espresso, cappuccino, and lattes.  Many places are battling for our coffee dollars including our financial advisors who plead us to consider the “latte factor” when thinking of investments. We are not giving up our coffees quickly.

Tim Hortons, the land of the “double double,” a coffee shop established by an ex-NHL hockey player .  Tim Hortons is also popular with a new generation of hurried morning commuters who take advantage of the drive-through and famous food such as the Hot Breakfast Sandwich.  Tim Hortons’ motto, “Always Fresh,” is illustrated through their commercials, which have servers marking the time on each fresh pot; after 18 minutes a new pot is brewed.  Like the espresso, freshness is essential.

Whether it is brewed or espresso, the phenomenon of coffee houses has exploded over the last few years.  Our local Safeway has a Starbucks installed so customers pass by on their way from the tellers.  On Robson Street in Vancouver, two Starbucks are on diagonal corners from each other; it is not unusual to see a line-up at both places.

Starbucks’ growth has much to do with their atmosphere, as well as their coffee.  The coffee movement, called Coffee Culture, has been called a “social lubricant,” and indeed Starbucks is a social gathering place. 
Coffee Culture is a social atmosphere centred around coffee, and in particular, espresso.  But it is also about the consumption of coffee, how it is prepared, and where it is served. Coffee Culture has infiltrated the modern world, changing the fundamental ways people lead their daily, busy lives.

A chain of stores called Coffee Culture, started in Woodstock, ON, is a 100% Canadian owned café and eatery with over 26 locations and 17 planned ones in Ontario.  On their website, Coffee Culture describes itself as a European-style coffee house, “Canada’s hottest coffee concept.”  Their motto is, “Come for the taste, stay for the visit.”

One of the ways that we know when a trend has become ingrained into our lives is when it is becomes part of the entertainment culture.  In the movie, Shrek 2, a building called Farbucks is destroyed and all the customers run out and go to another one across the street.  Humorist Andy Burowitz announced that Starbucks would be opening 11,000 cafés on the moon by 2021.  "Those astronauts are going to be working long and hard to build that moon base and we’re betting they’re going to want a latte or two," says a Starbucks spokeswoman. "Fortunately for them, there’ll be a Starbucks on the edge of every crater."

With such a prominence of specialty coffee cafés, imagining Starbucks on the moon doesn’t seem that farfetched.  Coffee Culture is clearly here to stay; the pursuit for more exquisite tastes will engage the aficionados and delight the rest of us.  

Where’s the best place to get a cup of coffee?  Like love, it is truly in the eye of the beholder.