Heidi Greco's Blog, page 11

So much depends...

Oh, just look at all that shiny stuff -- right down to the gold-striped serviettes. Shiny or what. 

Those items were accessories at the buffet meal served yesterday at the 'celebration of life' held for a dear friend. I'm not sure she would have liked that much plastic, especially where it looked like it might not be recyclable. Still, it certainly made the table very pretty, and I know that intentions were good. 

The food was quite amazing, with everything from several kinds of salmon -- delicate smoked lox, even chunks of candied salmon. And just about every kind of fruit you could think of, especially the summer treats like melons and berries. 

But for me, even more amazing were the memories people shared. It felt like all of us in the room were part of some overgrown aging family. 

And most amazing of all was one of the speeches, clearly the best-prepared of any that were presented. 

This friend used the analogy of the humble wheelbarrow to illustrate the many wonderful traits of our recently-gone friend. The wheelbarrow, overall, was such an apt metaphor for our friend as she was an avid gardener who never let the chance to enlist guests in work parties pass her by. But on, to the wheelbarrow, on which we know 'so much depends'. 

The legs, left and right, stood for the two sides of her brain -- logic and organizational skills on the right, balanced by the freedom-loving creative side on the left (which was also pointed out as being the departed's political leanings). 

The wheel with its ever-forward, onward direction reminded us of our friend's penchant for travelling the globe, sometimes even on the wheels of a bicycle. 

And yes, William Carlos Williams told it so beautifully all those years ago with his spare little poem about the wheelbarrow. 

Shiny plastic cutlery or not, I am sure our friend must have looked down on all of us and smiled. 

Midsummerish

Although many countries actually celebrate a festival they call Midsummer -- and do so long before mid-July -- I'm stuck in my ways enough that I think of Midsummer as the middle of this month. 
The term 'midsummer' apparently refers to the mid-point of the growing season, the halfway mark between planting and harvest. 

For those of us here in Canada, school isn't even over when those other countries celebrate. Here, the kids have only been free for just over two weeks. And often, it's only mid-month when the rains of 'June-u-ary' finally stop. 
This year's been different, with nary a drop of rain since back in June. Everything is dry dry dry, with high fire hazards and campfire bans province-wide. 
Lucky us, to be invited for our annual visit to a dear friend's cottage on the lake. 
The temps may have been warm, but going out for a paddle in the canoe (barest tip showing lower right) is a pleasure that's hard to beat. 

Numero Uno

Well, sheesh. I thought I'd taken a great photo of the very first blackberry of the season. Only now that I look at it, I see that it's fuzzy. 

Still it's the only documentation I have of the real thing -- the first. 

Maybe it's been affected by the smoke that hung in the skies last week?

Maybe that cataract in my right eye is spreading its fuzziness?

Maybe I'll just have to wait for more berries to ripen and then take a better photo of the bounty of summer. 

Maybe. 

Delicate

I guess the lazy days of summer must be upon me. Here it is, already July 4th, and I'm only now doing a post for Canada Day, July 1st. 

When I first stepped outside on July 1st, that delicate red poppy was the first thing that caught my eye. I'm just glad I had the sense to grab my camera, as by the next morning, the blossom was already gone. 

For all I know, this may have been one of the last times we, as a country, even observe Canada Day. The more we learn about colonialism, it's an issue we need to consider. 

We can't forget that the day itself was known for many years as Dominion Day. The very word says it all. I suppose it was a small step to at least change the name.

About all I can do is keep an open mind and keep learning. And of course, I can keep appreciating all the delicate beauty I see around me. 

Springin' into summer

It's hard to tell, but summer arrived this morning--officially, as today marks Solstice. The temp is still coolish, but not quite as "June-uaryish" as it's been the last while. So maybe it will even feel like summer soon.

The birds who'd built their nest inside the little lantern have even headed off for summery skies. We'd worried that the babies might not be able to fly high enough to get out of the enclosure, but presto--they did it!

We could see that the parents were getting tired of all the feeding (and yes, when it came to feeding time, there were two parent-birds, the father was no deadbeat dad at all), as towards the end they'd just sit at the top of the lantern and drop the bits of food down into the nestlings. 

Best news of all is that they did a lovely job of spring-cleaning the nest. 

Must admit I'm kind of hoping they'll come back next year. 

Rescue 6-13

It was just one of those lucky flukes -- a matter of being in the right place at the right time. 

One of the many local construction sites, where a bundle of bamboo was being dredged out by its roots...when that dear man I know spotted it and asked if he could have it. 

Turns out that wasn't a problem. In fact the person taking it out helped pack it into the car, even gave us a bungee to help anchor it there. 

It must have looked like a forest parade, as we carefully went home, flashers indicating how slowly we needed to go. As for back-up accompaniment, it was the lovely sound of bamboo leaves swishing against the surface of the road. 

Once home it was a matter of fetching the old bathtub we'd rescued a couple of years back, always with the thought of having it become a home for another bunch of bamboo. 

A bit of a chop to the edge of the deck and the tub slid right into place. 

Some teamwork, and voila -- a new 'mini-forest' of bamboo for us. 

Privacy and all those lovely sounds...

Tiny homes--not just for the birds

When we came home from our holiday travels, we discovered that we had a new 'tenant' in our gazebo. An ambitious little bird had built a nest in a hanging lantern. It's a lantern made for a candle, and since no candle was in there, the bird must have decided on claiming squatter's rights. 

Close examination (during one of those spells when the mother bird is out) revealed four eggs.

It's a very blurry shot as the angle for shooting was awkward to say the least. Still, small proof of my claim at least exists. 

I'm a little concerned about how the tiny hatchlings (when/if they come) will fly up to the top of their 'house' to go out into the big world. One more lesson to watch for...

This tiny house served as a reminder of how many people across the world are in need of housing. There's a wonderful sounding project going on in Kitchener-Waterloo which offers me a bit of hope that maybe we're not such an awful species as it sometimes seems. 

Looking forward to more such set-ups across the country and near at hand. 

Beachside travels

Well, we've been back for a couple of days, and I reckon I'm still in holiday mode. It was just a two-week getaway, but my favourite kind of treat as most of those days were ones without Internet. Sure, I missed some news, and was late getting a number of emails, but the world didn't fall apart just because I chose to step aside. 

And aside it truly was. 

The photo above is from one of the places we 'camped' -- I put that in quotes as we were travelling in our little motorhome, The Rattler. It has pretty much all of the comforts of home: stove, fridge (with freezer for ice cream), even a microwave. 

We wandered through Washington state and stayed at state parks we'd visited before as well as a few new ones which are sure to be part of future itineraries. As for the beach above, it provided a satchel of hand-dug steamer clams, which were way more delicious (it seemed) than any store-bought ones would have been. 

Still catching up on the realities of being home, but overall glad to be back (though the road will no doubt call my name again soon). 

Well-deserved

There are days when it's a treat to get out and see people. Happily, today was one of those, and not just because the sun was shining (though yes, that helps). 

My reason for getting out -- and even into the city -- was a celebration. 

Susan Musgrave was being presented with the George Woodcock Award for a lifetime achievement in the literary arts. The list of her publications was far too long for the presenters to read, though there was an amazing display of the library's copies of her books on a large table at the back of the room. 

Despite the weighty occasion, as always is the case, Musgrave managed to make the audience laugh. She remembered how the award was originally sponsored by the company then known as 'BC Gas' (now Fortis) and how she thought the idea of getting a lifetime award from that outfit didn't sound so great -- 'a lifetime gas award?'

It was great seeing so many friends I hadn't seen these last three long years -- all of us a little greyer, but happy to see each other. 

And I can't end this short post without acknowledging the other author honoured at this event, Alan Twigg. He was presented as this year's winner of the George Ryga Award for Social Awareness in Literature. The award recognizes all that Twigg has done to ensure that writings about the Holocaust are preserved. 

An amazing evening, one where I felt privileged to witness two presentation to two very deserving recipients. 

Art, art, art!

It's been a weekend (and month-end too) filled with art. Yesterday was an afternoon of experience at the Surrey Art Gallery -- from the current exhibit through a writing workshop to an opportunity to do some editing -- and yes, all at the same venue. 

The current show, the work of Victoria's Charles Campbell, is called "An Ocean to Livity." The exhibit is based in breath -- yep, the in-and-out of air that we spend our lives doing. It's complicated to explain, but the visuals were based on (I think) sonograms of breath. Wildly, they 'translated' into a variety of colours and patterns it would have been hard to just make up. 

And then, to the writing workshop which saw us responding to prompts from two wonderful poets, Kevin Spenst and Tolu Oloruntoba. Using their suggestions, we considered each of the lighted art works in the exhibit, and managed to find words spilling out of our brains. And then on to assembling a poem on the spot!

They also provided a series of 'editing' prompts, useful to anyone who thinks about trying to write. 

But the crowning touch was presentation of a how-to on making a mini-chapbook, a skill that Kevin has down to a fine art. Because I first learned how to make these little books from Kevin, I've always referred to them as Kev-bukis. 

But wait, there was yet another opportunity for editing -- this time a session on editing in Wikipedia. This was of special interest to me, not only because 'feminism' was in the workshop's title, but also because when I entered the room where the workshop was taking place, the first screen I saw contained an article about Torrie Groening. Not only did this pique my interest, as she's a Vancouver artist who's shown work in the Surrey Gallery, but I knew I'd be seeing her work on Sunday!

She and her partner Stephen run the Churchland Studio, a featured stop in this year's Capture Photography Festival -- and I'd already made plans to attend the exhibit there. 

Well worth the trek into the city, even with a few dribs of rain on the windscreen, as the photography collection there was simply amazing. And wouldn't you know, in amongst the many art treasures, what would I come across but an accordion book based on small cyanotypes. Wow. A little treasure. And a fitting close to comments on an art-filled weekend as well as the end of this year's National Poetry Month.