Heidi Greco's Blog, page 12

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.  

Thinking about our planet on Earth Day

When founders established Earth Day back in 1970, I wonder whether they dreamed the observance would still be going in 2023. I also wonder whether they imagined that this far in the future (53 years later), we'd be no closer to protecting the health of our planet than then. 

Trees keep coming down -- here where I live, it seems faster than ever, with more of them than I can keep count of. And as we learned this week, the promise made by Justin Trudeau in 2021 to plant 2 billion trees by 2030, well, it seems to be just another of those unrealistic pronouncements he's turning out to be so good at making. 

The theme of this year's Earth Day suggests that we 'Invest in Our Planet' and sounds very good, until one stops to think who it is that currently IS investing in the planet, and who needs to START investing more in our Earth. 

I admit it, I'm still driving a gasoline-fueled car, and I've even taken a jet within the past year, so I can't claim to be innocent when it comes to contributing to climate change. I suppose all I can continue to do is bear witness to what I see and hope that those 'ethical investments' in my small investment portfolio are indeed going to some cause or start-up that might be helping to make a difference. 

A Seven Year Emergency

Those look, I suppose, like two case for glasses cases. Only they aren't. One contains items that may well save a life.

Today marks a grim anniversary here in BC -- one for which there's no celebrating. It's been seven years since the province declared poisonings from toxic drugs as a public health emergency.

I guess I've always thought that an 'emergency' was a situation that had to be dealt with promptly. But I don't find anything prompt about an 'emergency' that is allowed to go on for seven years. 

Once I believed that it took seven years for us to completely change our skin -- that the 'old' skin would slowly be replaced by a fresh new set of cells. Seven years seemed like a very long time, and to me at least, it still does. 

To date, over ten thousand people have died. Some accounts reckon the number to be 11,000 -- no one knows for sure, as not all such deaths have any official stated cause. 

Not long ago, a letter to the editor used an example of other mass deaths, plane crashes. Their position was that if over 100 people a month were dying in plane crashes -- and that this had carried on month after month for years -- that the government would have found a way to put a stop to that many 'accidents'. 

While here in BC we at least now have some easing of drug laws, we know that this is not yet enough. 

About our only hope to date has come in the form of Naloxone kits which are distributed free of charge from most pharmacies. If injected in time, this drug can save lives -- or at least buy some time until the paramedics arrive. If you get a kit, here's a video that will show you how to give the injection. 

If you're courageous enough to watch some informative news coverage, here's a link to a story that tells it like it is, and even cites the number of calls paramedics have dealt with at over 200,000. 

The only ones not minding this reality are the dirty dealers and backyard chemists who think it's okay to make and sell poison so they can line their pockets with money. 

All of us can only wish that this is an anniversary that won't need to be repeated, though at the rate change is happening, that's probably a very faint hope. 

The Joys of Celebrating National Poetry Month

The theme for this year's National Poetry Month is Joy, so it's fun to think of the many ways poetry brings joy to people. 

Last week, I was part of a group who spoke as a delegation to Surrey's City Council in celebration of National Poetry Month. The presentation is about twelve minutes long, but in case you'd like to see some or all of it, here's the link to our presentation. 

That stack of poetry books beside my springtime tulips represents some of my favourite recent reads. I'm especially joyous over the fact that Susan Musgrave's latest collection, Exculpatory Lilies is a finalist, on the longlist for this year's Griffin Prize. The shortlist won't be announced until next week, on the 19th, but I certainly have my fingers crossed, as I think it's an amazing book (and apparently, I'm not the only one -- here's a review from CBC Books).

Musgrave's husband Stephen Reid died in 2018. And then, in 2020, was gone. 

The poems are some of the bravest I've ever read, as many of them deal directly with the problems both Stephen and Sophie shared. Yet despite the sadness that prevails, Musgrave's wonderful sense of humour shines through like sunlight poking through the branches of a forest. So even in the midst of a book that in many ways is an extended elegy, joy comes our way. 

Find a book of poetry to poke your nose into, and while you're there, seek its joy -- and then, maybe think about finding a way to share it. 

Vindication!

A confession: I have always been a messy person. Despite that, I can generally find what I'm looking for quickly, but to anyone else, that pile on my table probably looks like nothing more than chaos. 

But last weekend, hurrah, the Globe and Mail ran an article (with the beautiful image above on the newspaper's front page) about how such habits aren't really so terrible at all. 

One of the instances author of the article Mark Pupo cites in his defense of clutter is that of the overprotective parent wanting to ensure their child's room is clean clean clean. My dad gave that a try, but clearly, he failed. About the only thing he accomplished was making me cry. 

Recently I've been working on a poem about my messiness, kind of an apology I suppose. It starts with the words, "If Marie Kondo came to my office, she would probably cry."

Only it turns out that even the 'only-keep-items-that-bring-you-joy Marie' has had a turn of heart. What happened? She had kids, and oh gosh, but sometimes kids make a mess. Yeah. 

And in my case, even some of us supposed grown-ups do too. Happy face time. 

A balancing act

Today's the day the Earth does its twice-a-year balancing act. Earlier this afternoon, we experienced the vernal equinox, that special event that marks (for those of us in the Northern hemisphere) the beginning of spring.  

But that isn't the only balance I'm thinking about. For one thing, a number of banks seem a little shaky these days -- even ones in Switzerland, traditionally the most secure (and quiet) banks in the world. It wasn't long ago, though I can't put my finger on where (maybe in a film I saw?) but I heard a line that really resonated: "It suddenly struck them; they couldn't eat money." Which leads me to thoughts about the balance we need when we think about 'developing' farm lands for industrial use. Huh?!

Today also marks the day when China's Xi and Vladimir Putin are meeting in Moscow. It's hard for me to think that much good will come of this. Super-power meets super-power, but it looks more like power-over-others than any kind of balance. 

And the one that faces all of us, today's report from the UN on just how urgently we all need to act to save ourselves from the worst effects of climate change. 

It seems just about the only balance is the one the planet marked today, achieving that perfect angle where day and night are equal. 

As for all those other kinds of balance I keep hoping for, I guess my local graffiti artists say it best: Dream. 

And the winner is...

What's the best thing about a film festival? Besides all those hours spent in the magical darkness of a cinema, maybe the popcorn. 

As a lead-in to this year's Oscars, we went on a road trip to partake in a film festival. (The lengths -- and kilometres -- some people will go to in the name of seeing a bunch of movies!)

Though I must admit that the festival's theme of resilience meant we saw some pretty hard-to-watch and overall depressing films, I don't regret for a minute that we went. 

One of the hardest for me to watch was Decision to Leave mainly because I'd just finished reading a book that was all about police procedures, and here I was stuck in the same loop again. Even tougher was the grindingly sad film set in Ukraine, Klondike, definitely not about the gold rush, but about Russia's 2014 seizure of Crimea. 

The one I appreciated the most was Rebellion, a documentary about the group Extinction Rebellion and their protests in London, England. Powerful stuff about dedicated, courageous folks -- and not without a sense of humour, an element I appreciated. 

By week's end it was time for the Academy Awards, and although I thought too many awards went to a single film (another time, another discussion), it was wonderful to see Canadian director Daniel Roher win for his documentary on one of the heroes of our time, Alexei Navalny. The other moment of special pride was when won the award for adapted screenplay (from Marion Toews' novel, Women Talking). 

For now, I'll have to be happy seeing what films I can at my local cinema or on TV, and I suppose I can console myself knowing the popcorn's a whole lot cheaper here at home.