Heidi Greco's Blog, page 9

Springin' along

Some, I'm sure, would swear that seeing a robin serves as the first sign of spring. I'm pretty sure my mother was in that camp. 

Others may contend that it's the job of the crocus to make this announcement.

As for me, it's seeing a thicket of snowdrops that tells me spring is on its way. 

With the hard cold (for here) that we've had, the possibility of a new season feels very welcome. And with yesterday's observance of the Lunar New Year, the timing seems just right. Let there be dragons (so long as they're gentle, kind ones). 

Now, if only it would warm up a little more so it would also feel more as if spring is truly
near at hand. 

Wasteful

At least that's how this scene looked to me. 

On the weekend, there was a house there. One, I learned, that had been built in 1967. And here it was, the end of the line for it. 

Why, I wonder, do other towns and cities value their older homes? Is it because they have a greater respect for history, or do they consider the materials and craftsmanship that went into their making?

When this one was coming down, it didn't crumple easily, but withstood repeated blows from the digger. I couldn't help thinking, as I saw it sway from those repeated thumps, that it would have withstood a substantial earthquake. But then, looking at the materials it had been built with, its sturdiness was no surprise. 

It had been built with two-by-fours from wood that's far more substantial than the lumber that's for sale today. Why weren't those salvaged? Why wasn't that house taken apart, bit by precious bit? Windows? Doors? Light fixtures? All of these are items that cost plenty. And really, why should all of those be going to the already overfull landfill?

A man was strutting around while all of this was going on, pretty much nodding his head in approval. I suppose he'll be the new neighbour moving in to the undoubtedly mega-house that will be built there. I'd gone down to another neighbour's place, returning a piece of mail that had been mis-delivered to our house and tried to catch his eye to say hello each time I passed him. But no, his eyes may have well have been made of glass, so glazed over were they, so unwilling to engage. 

Today, to give the workers credit, the lot is tidy. There's even a fair amount of lawn-like grass, as if the site is getting ready to be turned into a neighbourhood park. But no, I am sure that isn't the case. 

Brain food

Our mother used to tell my sisters and me that fish was food for the brain, and did her best to convince us that eating it would make us smarter. She must have believed it was an ingredient we needed as she was often telling us to 'smarten up.' In truth, I always suspected the fish theory may well have simply been her way of getting us to eat sardines.

But the reason I'm thinking about brain food is that today is officially Puzzle Day. And if the reports are at all true, I've not (as my mother liked to scold) been wasting hours of my life by engaging in puzzles. As it turns out, they provide exercise for our brains. 

We 'puzzlers' (the official term for those who enjoy doing puzzles) are a tribe all our own. This is a term I happened to learn from a very fun book I read last week with the puzzling title of Jigsaw. 

I'll admit to being kind of a puzzle geek, as I love Sudoku, crossword puzzles, Wordle, and as you can see from the photo above, jigsaw puzzles, the biggest time-passer of all. 

Both of those puzzles were gifts I received at Christmas, but I haven't started either one of them. The round one, with 500 pieces looks challenging, but possible. While the beautiful Avatar-like image on the other is tempting, its 1,000 pieces leave me hesitant to even open the box, as 750 is my usual maximum. Still, with a new month approaching, the time may be nigh for new horizons with bigger challenges. 

Wouldn't you know--in the process of poking around for this post, I learned that eating fish maybe really does make you smarter. Once in a while I guess those mothers of ours managed to get a few things right after all. 

Oh yeah??

 

I'm not in the habit of arguing with 'answers' on Jeopardy! but hey, today this is just plain WRONG. 

Coldest I can remember it ever being. This morning, our little weather station read minus 15. Hardly what I'd call mild. 

Ta-daaaa!

A new year, hurrah! One that's almost sure to be better--or at least happier--than 2023 with its many horrors and wars. And I hope being a few days late with its bud opening doesn't make it any less appropriate for the new year. After all, what's a few days among friends. 

I suppose a flower seems an odd way to celebrate a mid-winter observance, but...to me the showy blossom of the amaryllis looks a lot like a horn that's trumpeting good news. 

At least I sure hope that's what it's announcing. 

 

December roses

A walk in my neighbourhood often reveals something I haven't noticed before. This time, it was a yard with several rose bushes in bloom. I didn't want to barge onto a stranger's property, so I had to make do with a quick snap from just outside their fence. 

Temperatures here have been very pleasant, though unseasonably mild. Today's 13 (that's Celsius here in Canada, Fahrenheit conversion is 55) feels like a day when a hoodie should be fine for a stroll. 

That's not altogether good news, especially as it's a current trend in much of the continent--yet another sign that our overall climate is changing. 

But I've posted that little rose for yet another reason. Today should be the birthday of a very dear friend. Sadly, he was one of the many who died because he had a nasty surprise from the drugs he thought were safe to use. 

And just yesterday came the news that proposed changes to rules intended to protect the lives of those who are drug-dependent--along with people who may be near them--have been dispensed with (at least for now).  

It's a problem that's not going to go away by merely wishing it so. Nor will any change in legislation bring back any of those now gone. I can only hope for the safety of those who, like the little roses, manage to hang on, as if looking for better times ahead. 

Return of the light

For a few minutes yesterday the sun managed to cut through the clouds just long enough to make a small splash of light on the ocean at White Rock. I felt lucky to catch it, as that little spot of brightness didn't last for long.

And now today is when we observe the Solstice, the day the sun 'returns' bringing us more hours of light, the joy of what we think of as longer days. 

In truth, twenty-four hours is all that any day gets, but oh, that precious light--what a difference it can make to how we live and how we overall feel--I suppose a natural kind of solar power. 

Sunset here today was 4:16 pm and won't move even a minute forward until Saturday. Still, it's good to know we're on our way to longer days and more of that beautiful light. 

Karma Kardmelion

Okay, so Boy George wouldn't much like the way I've rearranged that name. I've been up to my elbows in making and sending out holiday greetings to family and friends, people I don't see often enough. With some of them, it's because they're too far away, be that England or Australia. If I had a transporter beam, I guess visiting would be easier. But since I don't (and I don't think anyone outside of Star Trek reruns does), cards are my best bet for staying in touch. 

The dining room table's been pretty much out of commission, owing to the invasion of the cards, though I admit the mess of them strewn across that surface has at least started to diminish. 

The other day I mailed out over 30. Today was a smaller batch by half. The last seem to mostly be ones where I'm having trouble tracking down an address I know has changed, or other such complications. 

So, where do thoughts of karma enter the picture?

Walking back to my car on my way home from the post office the other day, a flash of blue caught my eye. Sure enough: a small reward in the form of a five-dollar bill. 

What can I say, but thank you, Universe!

City by the sea

The nearby city of White Rock calls itself the 'city by the sea'--and they have every right to, as the town stretches its entire length (about two miles) along Semiahmoo Bay, an arm of the Pacific Ocean.

But the city by the sea in my photo isn't White Rock, nor is it any other actual city. 

It's a creation that resides on top of a car, one that's been lovingly decorated by someone with much more talent (and patience!) than I will ever possess. 

I encountered this wonderfully fun creation while visiting one of my favourite towns, Port Townsend, Washington. 

Just out for a walk, taking a shortcut through a little-used parking lot, when I came upon this creation. 

Really, how could I not stop and admire it from several angles. And then of course, I had to take a few photos. 

I'll bet you would have had to as well. 

So much for clean energy

It's over a week since I've been home from a trip to Victoria. My reason for being there was the launch of a new anthology that contains a bit of my work. 

While a friend and I were leaving, taking the bus out to Swartz Bay to get the ferry home, we passed a group of people outside a building where the government was holding a meeting. Many of them carried signs, some of them even had 'Site C' on their banners. 

Their goal appeared to be reminding those inside of their public commitments to care for the environment. Yet sadly, we know that pretty much ALL the power generated by the mega-dam will go to Northeastern BC to power fracking operations. 

Frack. A word that I still believe will, in the future, replace our current F-word as an ugly expletive, as it won't be long until people understand how dangerous fracking is, and how it has the potential to despoil our precious groundwater, a resource (unlike petroleum) we cannot survive without.