Heidi Greco's Blog, page 21

Traditional and not

Today, as I observe (I didn't say 'celebrate') Victoria Day, I can't help but think about the things I might usually do. 

For one thing, it's traditionally the day for planting things -- thus, the shot of the beautiful black soil, looking as though it's ready for seeding. 

It's also the day I usually put my outside, so they can soak up the summery sun instead of being reliant on light that comes in the window, the situation they must tolerate from Thanksgiving and through the winter. Today, because it's rainy, I'm too lazy to drag them outdoors (besides, they've grown for so many years, they're heavy -- I'll wait for better conditions). Maybe by tomorrow. Who knows. 

One thing that doesn't happen very often, but happens to be the case this year is that we're observing it on the  of her birth, the one that goes with the old rhyme. 

At least we managed to have an outdoor meal on Saturday -- kind of a picnic -- a way to kick off what we hope we will be a decent summer.. 

What's fer supper?

In 2009, I started a blog that answered that question every night for a year. That first post wasn't very exciting, though over the year (and beyond) I like to think it got better. Heck, how many people do you know who could tell you what they had for supper twelve years ago (even if they are off by a day)? The post for May 17th seemed more appropriate (and looked more delicious too, though maybe I'm just hungry). I'll admit that I've spent a while poking around there, looking for inspiration perhaps, and have to say that one of the days most important to me is a meal that looks, at first glance, pretty ordinary, though the story that goes with it is anything but. 

Though I digress. Today's post is the result of a full-page ad I saw in yesterday's Globe and Mail, the Saturday paper I like to save for reading on Sunday. The ad reminds us of how the restrictions required during these pandemic times have made things so difficult for anyone in the restaurant trade (so I suppose this is my version of a 'Restau-Rant'). 

Costco and Walmart and the other corporate biggies are laughing as always, all the way to the bank with their profits. It's the family-owned, local businesses (so many of which are restaurants) that are suffering. We need to feed the businesses that comprise our local economy by letting them feed us. 

As you can see from the array of takeaway menus on the table, we have a great selection of restaurants nearby. Sadly, none of them are open now -- except of course for takeaway. Because I already had something mostly planned for tonight's supper, I'm not ordering in, though I plan to do so at least once in the coming week -- maybe twice, just because I can. 

The season of green

There are so many beautiful places to take a walk. This spot, in Aldergrove Park, looked so lush I just had to take a photo. It was almost an accident that I even stopped there, but I'm glad that I did. 

Not only because the scenery was great, but also because I found a great patch of still-tender nettles shoots. And luckily, I carry a pair of scissors as well as sturdy gloves in my car. While there are people who pick these without benefit of protection, I'm one who prefers to avoid their sting. 

I only took a small harvest, but enough to make a few packets for the freezer -- either for lasagna or manicotti as a spinach substitute, or else for my version of nettle-kopita (again, instead of the usual spana-version). 

While I poked around in the bush, I even found the first evidence of the season's berries, the always reliable, at least around here, salmonberries. A good sign for more bounty to come. 

Cinema as a public experience still matters

Here's to keeping our local cinemas open!

The photo illustrates how our local theatre, the Criterion, is doing its best to support itself during the various stages of shutdown. 

Even though they've upgraded the seats, established a 'seating plan' so they can sell tickets and have patrons socially isolated according to protocols, they're not allowed to show films to paying clients. 

Last film I saw here was Tenet, a film I could have done without, but which was the only current film offered on the night I wanted to go. At least I got to have some popcorn. Something I have again tonight.

Another theatre facing difficulties is the heritage venue in Powell River, the Patricia, home to the Powell River Film Festival. This year, the festival was virtual, so I at least got to see a couple of films on my list, Zappa and Ammonite. 

And yes, to me, cinema matters.

If you have ideas to help support it, please act. 

My Own Private Oscar Night

For years, I've been a faithful follower of Oscar night. This year, as things are in oh-so-many ways, it's different. The biggest differences are that I only saw one film in a cinema this year, and I've only been able to see a few of the candidates for the big awards. 

But I have one all-on-my-own disappointment. The short animated film that I'd hoped would not only be up for, but would WIN an Oscar, didn't make the list. 

It's only five minutes long, but I can't think of a better candidate for the winner for animated short this year than one from our own NFB. It's a short created by Andrea Dorfman, of a poem by Tanya Davis called 'How to Be at Home'. It's only five minutes long, and when you're ready, click here to see it. 

A good day to buy some books

There's a little basket on my desk where I keep an assortment of bookmarks. Many of these are souvenirs from independent bookstores where I've shopped over the years. Sadly, too many of them no longer exist, not even in the world of virtual shopping. No more Duthie's, and saddest for me, the loss not only of a bookstore but of a friend when Copper Beech closed. 

But today, the last Saturday in April, is a day for finding ways to support our local indie bookstores. As an incentive they've even organized a contest to encourage us to shop (though weirdly, my remaining local indie is not on the list of shops participating). 

I'd write more, but I think it's probably time for me to grab my wallet and head out to the bookstore -- not just for books, but maybe even a couple more bookmarks. 

Restoration

And looking at that word, restoration, it makes me think: reforestation. 

Exactly what part of my wish is for my Restore the Peace dream. Putting the trees back -- or, to be more truthful, putting in new ones. 

Thinking some more about reforestation, I'm wondering whether the brave souls at Fairy Creek will manage to save those old-growth giants, rather than having them gone, and having to start over again with tiny sprouts that will take hundreds of years to match the Grandfather and others in that grove. 

But yes, it's Earth Day, with its theme of Restore Our Earth, and best news is probably that Joe Biden seems to have shamed Justin Trudeau into making a few more promises (which I sure hope he lives up to this time). Yes, we've heard his song-and-dance before, but maybe with the US holding his feet to the fire, he'll listen. 

Clearly, this is not my happiest Earth Day, as it doesn't seem we're making much in the way of progress. 

Good thing the ferns in the yard are doing the same good job they do every year of coming back into greenness, their own miraculous restoration.

Onward we go, hopefully towards truly Restoring Our Earth before it is too late.   

Countdown...

...to Earth Day, April 22nd. The theme for this year's observance is the all-too-urgent call to "Restore Our Earth". 

Yes, I try to do my small part in looking after the planet. Drying linens on the line means I don't have to use electricity to power the dryer. Instead, it's what I like to think of as backyard wind power. And oh, but I do love the bonus scent of those sheets that have danced in the breeze on a sunny afternoon! 

This year I am hoping for a bigger kind of restoration to begin, one I'm calling Restore the Peace. 

I'm imagining crews of workers employed at what's still called 'Site C' -- only they're not building a mega-dam -- they've abandoned that folly and are working to restore the land as well as the currently-diverted Peace River. 

They're planting trees to replace those that were removed and while they wait for those trees to grow, they've established a 'forest' of wind turbines.

If this sounds like a dream, yes it is. But it's a dream I believe we need to make come true. 

While many of us believe that every day should be Earth Day, the official one is coming soon, so yes, I'm embarking on a countdown and hoping you'll join: Ten, nine, eight, seven...

Poetry all over the place

National Poetry Month -- is, as far as I'm concerned, one of the great reasons (besides the gradually improving weather) to be glad it's April. This year's theme, resilience, seems right for the year we've had (and seem to be continuing to have) under various stages of lockdown and social distancing. 

As a constant reader, I tend to poke around in genres. And it seems, even when I'm putting my focus on poetry, more than one genre insists on being present. The three books above serve to illustrate this. 

The one on the left, Scratching Initials, is a self-published homage to the author's sister. It's a blend of poems and black-and-white drawings, quite a lovely little book that contains a nice range of poetic forms -- prose poems, ghazals and haibun. 

The one on the right, burninghouse, is a taut collection by a writer whose work feels firmly grounded in Atlantic Canada. Feminism is the guiding principle in these poems -- a book worth taking the time to find -- or at least that's my opinion. 

The one in the middle, 100 Poems to Break Your Heart, does much more than the title suggests. Each of the 100 poems in this anthology is accompanied by a short essay that enriches anyone's reading of the poem. And it isn't so much that the author, noted poet Edward Hirsch, offers ongoing heartbreak; his words -- and the poems -- provide solace, something I suspect so many of us are now in need of. 

And if you're ready to celebrate National Poetry Month with poems of your own, here's a link to a list of inspirations that might get you started. Or, for more detailed instructions (note: they change, day to day) here's a blog for NaPoWriMo (which has added 'Glo' to its name, indicating it's now National Global Poetry Writing Month) with amazing suggestions -- including one, for a 'deck' of word cards which seems actually to have been part of the method Linda Pearce used in Scratching Initials. 

Once you've started writing poems, I hope you might work up enough courage to enter this year's 2-Day Poem Contest, an adventure that's always interesting (to put it mildly -- try it and you might see what I mean). Although the event takes place April 23rd to 25th, the deadline for registering is April 16 -- soon. 

The choice of how to celebrate is yours, and no doubt there'll be more poetry-themed posts during this glorious month that celebrates this dear-to-my-heart art form. 

It's hard to imagine...

 

..just how the City of Surrey managed to wangle its recently-announced designation as a "Tree City" as when I look around I see small forests and big trees coming down, down, down.  

One of the most reliable spokespersons for the trees -- for years now -- is a woman named Deb Jack. When she speaks, our know-it-all mayor offers his usual lip service and then votes in a way that shows he's yet again ignoring the things she says.  

The photo above shows one of a batch of trees that bordered the edge of a property where a little old house was torn down, no doubt to be replaced by a giganto, absurdly big one. 

I'd have thought that trees that close to the property line would not have had to be chopped, as there are some limits (too small, but they're officially there) as to how much clearance there needs to be between the building and the line. Besides, the next door 'neighbour' is an elementary school, so the 'natural fence' provided by trees would have meant shade, privacy, and a cushion from the noisy play outside of a school.

The "Tree City" designation requires a city to show a plan for evaluating specific trees, for having a policy that requires replacement of trees that have been removed -- and yes, Surrey has these, but they're plans as thin as the paper they're written on. They're often ignored, and as for replacements -- huh? How does a 3-foot cedar shrubbery replace a tree that's over 50 years old. 

I'm not the only one who feels our Council's approval of trees falling everywhere is unacceptable, but with the current 'representatives' sitting, neither we nor the trees seem to stand a chance. 

Surrey: good for making promises as hollow as a tree gone rotten with disease.