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Life in BC

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Well – not boots actually – but I could not off the top of my head think of any other footwear related couplets from which I could plagiarise a post title.

When I was a  considerably younger man I really had very little time for slippers. Now that I write that it feels like an odd thing to say; I don’t suppose than anyone actually gives time to domestic footwear. What I mean is that I didn’t feel the need for/couldn’t be bother with such things. Living in residences with carpets probably probably made a difference; we have little truck with such things here on the west coast.

I suppose also that I am now guilty of re-enforcing the stereotypes concerning such cosy domestic items – that they are only for old-folks; something your father would wear in his dotage (mine did!). I guess the truth is that I have now become (am now becoming!) that old-timer myself.

Either way – when we came to Canada half a decade ago it seemed like the right (and sensible – no-one needs cold feet) thing to do to acquire said comfy accoutrements. Further – being in Canada – they should undoubtedly take the form of Moccasins. A suitable pair was duly located – purchased – fallen in love with and worn until they fell apart.

Those are they on the left. On the right is the virtually identical pair with which I have just replaced them.

Well – if it ain’t broke…

If – on the other hand – it is broke…

When I was a  considerably younger man I really had very little time for slip-on shoes. You know – the sort of thing that doesn’t have laces (Tom Allen on ‘Mock the Week’ – “Duh! Espadrilles“).  I mean – let’s face it – shoes without laces aren’t real shoes, now – are they? Not for an English gentleman anyway (they’re called ‘loafers’ for goodness sake!).

Anyway – when we came to Canada half a decade ago and acquired not only an rather splendid inside but also a quite extensive outside  – one containing a barbecue (which the gentleman abroad is expected to use year round) and continuous and copious quantities of pine needles, etc – it suddenly made perfect sense to have some footwear that could easily be slipped on an off every time one needed to rush out to attend the grill! Of course – being in Canada – they would have to take a somewhat more rugged and substantial form than most casual English shoes (one really can’t barbecue in Hunters!). Needless to say, a suitable pair was duly located – purchased – fallen in love with and worn until they fell apart.

Those are they on the left. On the right is the virtually identical pair with which I have just replaced them.

Well – you know what they say…

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Some days – particularly at this time of year – the cold morning air is so clear that we get a quite startlingly sharp vista of Mount Baker and the mountain ranges that surround it.

At such time – even though my humble camera is unable to do the prospect justice – I can’t resist photographing it…

…or posting the results!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Missing out

“You could grow up in the city where history was made and still miss it all.”

Jonathan Lethem – ‘The Fortress of Solitude’

We are – when all is said and done – having a good pandemic!

Now, should the gentle reader take offence at my flippancy (a fair call one might say) consider that – compared to those who have lost loved ones – to those who have themselves been ill – to those who have lost their livelihoods – to those, even, who have had to endure lock-down separated from family or in cramped and unsuitable quarters… we are undoubtedly blessed a thousand times over.

I hope that you will forgive me for wishing that, for us, it will remain that way. I truly wish that all were similarly blessed.

Even so…

It is difficult to look back at the autumns (falls) of previous years without a certain wistfulness adding itself to my habitual autumnal melancholia. Since The Girl and I found our way to these shores more than half a decade ago we have noted that Canadians (well, Victorians certainly) are in the habit of leavening the often dreary run in to the festive season by means of a variety of diversions and entertainments. We have – quite naturally – happily joined in.

Looking back over the past five years of autumnal blog entries I can see that music has featured strongly: Our annual rendezvous with Barney Bentall’s Cariboo Express has become almost a tradition and the season has also featured other regular charity concerts, such as those supported by Victoria’s ‘New Orleans inspired Funk Brouhaha‘ outfit The Hi Fi. The last few years have also seen one or more of us in attendance at gigs by artists such as Simple Minds, Cowboy Junkies and Skerryvore.

Theatre has also featured strongly. The Belfry usually starts its new season in the fall with us in anxious attendance, hoping for signs that this season will be a ‘doozy’ and that – come springtime – we will not be feeling faintly dissatisfied (as we occasionally do) with the fare on offer. Now is also the time of year that Intrepid Theatre normally goes into full-on fund-raising mode, with its annual ‘Merry & Bright‘ event at The Atrium downtown.

Not this year – of course…

I see also from my retrospective perusing that we have on more than one occasion enjoyed a trip to Vancouver during this season – often with some Rugby involvement. We had tickets this year for the Rugby Canada Halloween Event at BC Place in Vancouver which would have featured Canada, the USA, Fiji and an All Black XV. We had even booked our hotel!

We still have on our mantle a slightly sorry stack of tickets for various events – all of which have been postponed and will (hopefully) be rescheduled when it is safe so to do. But for now…

Sigh!!

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Autumn daze

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI wrote a piece within these pages back at the start of the year (well – February!) on the general subject of my level of fitness – and what it took to keep things that way. I made reference to having just restarted attendance at the fitness class of which I have been a regular pretty much since we came to Canada.

Of course, not long after I committed those musings to the digital equivalent of print, the COVID-19 pandemic broke and everything was turned upside down. The fitness class moved onto Zoom and was executed in the safety of our own living rooms. When restrictions eased a little as the summer unfolded we reverted to meeting ‘in person’ at the Shoal Centre in Sidney (a community ‘hub’ for ‘seniors’) where we undertook carefully socially-distanced classes wearing masks and with extravagant but necessary health precautions.

These classes have continued since then, but on each day when the weather permits – ie when it is not raining or snowing! – we have taken to exercising in the park across the road from the centre. This is not only much safer but it is also considerably more pleasant.

I took most of these pictures between exercises during yesterday’s class.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Out(r)age…

Yesterday saw one of the first big wind storms of the year here at the southern end of Vancouver Island. As so often happens at this time of the year many trees lost branches as a result (in the case of deciduous trees because they have not yet shed their leaves) and our electricity provider –  BC Hydro – were kept fully employed with investigating and repairing damaged power lines (regular readers will know that here in BC most power supplies are carried on poles rather than buried underground as they are in the south east of the UK).

Somewhat annoyingly we lost power here for about three and a half hours during the afternoon, at a point at which I was hoping to prepare for my class today. As the light faded in the early evening I cooked dinner on the gas barbecue outside and we had just started to dine by candle light when the power was eventually restored.

The reason that this was particularly annoying was because BC Hydro had already been in touch with us a week or so back to inform us of a scheduled outage today (for ‘system upgrades’) at a time that clashed with the start of my class. The relevance is – of course – that because I now teach exclusively from my studio at home, the loss of power prevents me completely from so doing. I had arranged with my students for a later start for the class but when I awoke this morning it did occur to me that BC Hydro might have rescheduled the outage as a result of their engineers having worked such long shifts yesterday. I called them to check. After a lengthy rumination by the call-centre chappie (who clearly had no real idea what was going on) I was told categorically that the outage would indeed take place.

Somehow inevitably – it did not do so!

I even went out on my bicycle at one point looking for a BC Hydro crew, but none was to be found.

In the end I started my class late and they had to put up with my grumbling about how – wherever one lives in the world – it is impossible to find efficient service industries that do what they say they are going to do – when they say they are going to do it.

I am fully prepared now for the power to go out suddenly and without warning in the middle of my next class…

 

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A few autumnal images from recent fall walks here on fabulous Vancouver Island.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidIt is no secret that autumn is not my favourite time of year, but one cannot deny that the season brings many beautiful things and if one wants variety – then fill your boots! Sometimes it looks like this:

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid…but at others it looks like this:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid“Fear the vulture, and the vulture will come. Fear nothing, and you are the vulture.”

Suzy Kassem

“By the time I got to kindergarten, I was surprised to find out I was the only kid with a turkey vulture.”

Jean Craighead George

We had an unexpected visitor in our garden (yard!) today. He arrived out of nowhere in a rush and settled on top of the post that holds our weathervane – and that many mistake for a gibbet!

Appropriate – in a way, I suppose…

I was in the studio working on something and my attention was captured by the big shadow that crossed the window. I rushed upstairs to alert The Girl (who was just about to climb into a bath) so that she might also view the bird… before it had flown!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidWe need not have worried as our visitor was clearly not in any hurry, settling itself in and busying itself preening. I imagine that it had recently frequented the Roadkill Diner and wished to rest a while so as not to suffer from indigestion.

What the heck is that thing?” – I queried the expert. For sure it was a vulture – but what sort of a vulture?

We rarely see Turkey Vultures in the garden, but if we did they would be easily recognisable by their distinctive red heads. This one – as you can see – was conspicuously lacking any sort of crimson.

Black Vultures are as rare as hens’ teeth in these parts. We did hear tell on the InterWebNet (well – The Girl did!) of just one such feathered friend that had escaped from the Raptor sanctuary in Duncan some three years back…

Could it possibly be? Could it?…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidWe were reluctantly persuaded that it could not – and that it was almost certainly an immature Turkey Vulture – the which have not yet morphed into red-headedness. Shame!

Pretty big bu**er for a baby, though!

The other birds took a pretty dim view of the visitor and all manner of squawking arose. The little hummingbirds – those most territorial of creatures – bustled up, jaws jutting – spoiling for a fight. The vulture simply ignored them and gave its tail feathers an extra polish.

Finally the crows figured that simply making a racket was not going to get the job done, organised a drawing of straws and nominated the unlucky loser to see the intruder off the premises…

…which it duly did!

Sorry that the images are not any better, by the way. I had only my phone to hand and I had to push it to full zoom to get anything at all. Double-clicking may help to make out some detail…

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Never too busy

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid“Have you noticed that even the busiest people are never too busy to take time to tell you how busy they are?”

Bob Talbert

Well, it has – of course – been busy. It was, after all, the first week of term… the first week of exclusively online teaching (for me – as I did not teach during the summer). As it happened it didn’t go too badly. Fingers crossed that this is a portent for the remainder of the course and that we will sail through it serenely – without alarums or excursions – and that everyone gets an A+ (well – all those who deserve so to do anyway).

On Friday we were also washed – and by ‘we’ in this case I mean ‘the outside of our humble abode’. I mentioned in a relatively recent post that we we finally getting the outside of the house painted; a thorough wash and brush up being the first step in that process. We now wait for a week for the dust to settle (metaphorically, I assume) before the actual business kicks off.

The crew that washed the house were all personable and strapping young chaps and it took The Girl all of about a minute to determine that they play rugby together for one of the Victoria clubs. I can’t tell you how much confidence it fills one with to know that one’s treasured property is in the safe hands of those who participate in that most excellent of sports. The Rugby ethos forefronts the core values of Teamwork, Respect, Enjoyment, Discipline and Sportsmanship – and what’s not to admire about that!

The image at the head of this post marks another development this week. Back at the start of June – in this post – I celebrated the fact that for the first time since the start of the pandemic I had been able to purchase a large container of Lysol disinfectant wipes. At the time I posited that this might indicate a change in the air with regard to the progress of the pandemic. As it turned out that was the last time that I saw the wipes, though not for want of looking. I asked one of the grocery chaps and he told me that they do come in from time to time, but that they usually arrive on a delivery at 11:00 at night and are subsequently and rapidly cleaned off the shelves by the old folk who habitually do their grocery shopping at 7:00 in the morning.

This week – finally – Thrifty (our local grocer) had a consignment that must have arrived during the hours of daylight. I scampered home with my allotted single container, to be met by The Girl who had – naturally – just found one somewhere else. We now have a pleasant surfeit of disinfectant wipes.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidMy very recent post concerning the wildfire smoke from Oregon and California crowed somewhat prematurely at the rapid disappearance of the noxious fumes. Naturally the very next day they returned with a vengeance and have settled in for the duration. We now have no vista at all, though that does not in any way compare with having no home – which is what happened to one of The Girl’s acquaintances from Oregon.

Looks as though this unpleasant stuff is going to be with us for at least a few more days and I feel suitably humbled.

Now what do they call that? Hubris? Amour propre? Smug-bastardry getting its due comeuppance?

Take your pick…

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What a difference…

Just the other night I took this picture in the gloaming as we entertained a dear friend to a garden-based repast. It was Sunday evening and it was a good way to end the weekend. The Haro Strait obliged us – as it often does at this time of year – with a spectacular array of subtle tones and changing light – and very beautiful it was too.

We discussed the weather forecast that had been circulated during the day that had threatened the first (and really quite early) of the coming season’s fall winds. The Haro Strait seems to attract them but – as I say – not usually for another month or so.

Sure enough, the following day was blustery to a fair degree. Not a winter storm for sure, but certainly a ‘promise’ of things to come. What made it particularly unusual is that the temperatures here are still comfortably well into the twenties (Celsius) so the winds were more like those encountered in desert lands – hot and dry.

They also blew in from the South – which had another un-looked for outcome… On the Tuesday morning we awoke to a very different view.

Yes – that fuzz in the middle of the picture is smoke… wildfire smoke!

This season has been mercifully free – thus far – of serious wildfire smoke here on the Island, but these winds had blown this lot up the coast from the fires in Washington State (and elsewhere) that you may have read about on the news. Not good – and those with chest ailments were particularly unhappy.

The good things with winds, however, is that they just keep right on a-blowin’… Come this evening the view from our window had reverted to that of Sunday evening.

Thank goodness for that – say I! (With apologies – of course – to those of you who are still under the cloud!).

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We are blessed this year with a veritable cornucopia of hummingbirds!

Never have I seen so many of the adorable little creatures in our yard. Never has the garden hummed so to the rhythm of their tiny beating wings. Never has the nectar level in my feeders declined at such a precipitate rate!

I’m not at all sure that I can afford to maintain the standard of living to which these perky little chaps have clearly become accustomed… The feeders need replenishing every other day. The sugar bills are horrendous!

Nonetheless…

This post is not actually concerned with the birds themselves. It is about the feeders – or one of them anyway. I bring them both in to clean and to refill at the same point, regardless of whether or not they are each quite empty. When I brought this one in there was still about an inch of nectar in the bottom of it.

There was also – a live wasp!

The mystery is – how on earth did it get in there? The only channels into the glass chamber that holds the nectar are those at the bottom through which the birds sup the fluid. These cannot be more than 1.5mm – 2mm across and are – presumably – full of the sweet sticky water of which the birds cannot get enough. I don’t see how the insect could have entered whilst I was filling the feeder – certainly not without being noticed – and I saw that it was there before I had opened the chamber today.

As I say – a total mystery!

The answer to the question – “What was a wasp doing in your hummingbird feeder?” – is, however, in this case quite literally – “The backstroke!“.

I’m here all week folks!

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