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British Columbia

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This online journal has once before featured a guest poster (none other than the Kickass Canada Girl herself) but now – in another first – it offers a collection of images of this west coast paradise kindly donated to the cause by one who shall (temporarily at least) go by the soubriquet – The Chanteuse! In the perhaps unlikely event that gentle readers have not yet been persuaded of the many beauties of this part of the world –  contemplate this two part series and become so!

As ever, double-click for the full effect:

Image by Siobhan MonaghanImage by Siobhan MonaghanImage by Siobhan MonaghanImage by Siobhan MonaghanImage by Siobhan MonaghanImage by Siobhan Monaghan

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Bob!

Public Domain Image from Max PixelThis peaceful neck of the woods has recently been the scene of local elections and in the weeks running up to polling day – as it the way in these parts – verges, hedgerows and lawns slowly disappeared under a plethora of campaign signs and placards urging the local electorate to get out and vote.

In this day and age – and with times being what they are – it is hardly surprising that it is not always easy to encourage people to exercise their democratic right, no matter how important it might be for them so to do. I am certainly saying nothing against our local politicians – if for no other reason than that I lack the necessary knowledge of them – but on the wider scene the political classes have done so much damage to themselves in recent decades that it should be no surprise that the whole damned lot of them have become anathema (or an anathema – to your taste!).

Now – I cannot yet in any case vote in Canadian federal elections – I would needs be a citizen so to do – but I have a feeling that I could have voted in the recent local poll. That I did not do so is a sign that I am not yet sufficiently ‘au courant’ with the ins and outs of local politics, which is certain a failing on my part that I intend to rectify before the next such occasion.

One of the more prominent placards planted on the roadside not far from here, near to one of our bigger intersections (always a relative term of course) advocated the re-election of a man who apparently goes by the name of ‘Bob’ (that indeed being his name) whose surname I will not reveal (to protect the innocent!). Having dealt with the matter of the man’s name the sign simply read:

The only Bob on the Ballot!

Given the current febrile political climate in many parts of the globe it occurred to me that this might indeed be just as good a reason to vote for the man as anything else that might have been said.

It is not often that one gets a laugh from politics these days!

Go Bob!

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidSpeaking of Scouts (as I was in my last post) brings to mind no end of memories from way back in the 60s and 70s. No surprise there really…

There was (and indeed still is, I see) a Scout campsite but a few miles from where we grew up in (reasonably) leafy Surrey in the UK. We used to go there quite a lot for weekends throughout the year and the site was heavily used even back then. It is now billed as a ‘multi-purpose site’ and is clearly open to all manner of youth and educational organisations, rather than just to scouting boys as it was then.

I have a strong recollection of hiking to the site with a reasonably large group, carrying all of our camping gear along what was even then a busy main road on a trek cart. I don’t know how many of these splendid contrivances yet survive but I would not be surprised if it were no longer legal to take one out on the public highway.

Winter visits to the campsite were particularly interesting. We considered that sleeping in the scout tents of the day was just too brutal when there was a thick frost on the ground, but were fortunate in that the site had a cabin (it now has three!) with a big wood stove in it. Many a happy weekend was spent figuring just how much of a fug could be engendered therein by firing up a big blaze and stoking the stove as furiously as we could. Of course, we then had to try to sleep through the ensuing miasma!

As I recall the place was affectionately and unsurprisingly known as ‘Smokey Joe’s‘.

At that age I naturally simply followed the example of my peers and it didn’t occur to me to wonder as to the origin of that soubriquet until I used it as the title for this post. The InterWebNet is slightly less helpful than usual – with most references being to contemporary food joints, cigar lounges and clothing companies – not to mention the Leiber and Stoller based songbook musical, “Smokey Joe’s Cafe‘.

These references are, however, all too recent.

The Urban Dictionary offers an alternative slang definition which refers to a somewhat ‘colourful’ sexual practice that I certain would have been far too young to have understood at the time.

Probably the closest I can get is the somewhat older phrase ‘Smoking Joe‘ which – long before being applied to the legendary Joe Frazier or being adopted as slang for cigarettes – was used to refer to the steam engines that were developed in the eighteenth century to power the nascent industrial revolution.

That at least seems appropriate.

These atmospheric remembrances are particularly brought to mind just now by the fact that – somewhat later than last year but just as unwelcome – the view from our windows has vanished in a haze of smoke from the various wildfires burning not just in BC but also down through the US as far as California. I gather that this year’s smoky cloud cover is unlikely to last as long as did last year’s, but we still cannot wait to see the back of it.

In a post that already features one great heavyweight, let’s end with another:

“Generally when there’s a lot of smoke… there’s just a whole lot more smoke.”

George Foreman

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Photo: Myrabella / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0Way back in the dim and distant… (before, even, the Kickass Canada Girl and I had landed upon these verdant shores) I posted an item to this blog entitled ‘A Sense of Place‘. Should you care to refresh your memory (hah!) of that inestimable entry you will (re)discover that it included a description of how I came to learn of the wonderful works of Kwakwaka’wakw carver and First Nation chief – Beau Dick.

The piece included a link to a YouTube clip which contained a trailer for an as yet unfinished documentary on Beau Dick which was at that point still in the process of creation by Vancouver gallery owner – LaTiesha Fazakas – and her  co-director – Natalia Tudge. I contacted them by email to enquire as to when the film might be completed and was advised that they were hoping so to do later that same year.

That was in January 2015!

The next reference within these pages to Beau was a less happy one, on the occasion of his sad and untimely death in March last year. This was widely reported at the time and  many who were not previously aware of his work and achievements may well have been enlightened as a result of that unhappy event.

Finally, late last year I received notice that the documentary had at last been completed and was to be shown in the Vancouver International Film Festival. There were also to be other screenings – in Vancouver and elsewhere – but none that I could readily attend. Then – in the spring of this year – I learned that the documentary was to be released on DVD. Hoorah! When we were in Vancouver last month – on the occasion of the Paul Simon concert to which I have made previous reference – I found my way to the Fazakas Gallery and purchased a copy.

You might well grumble at this point that – even should you be interested – this does not help you very much. This is true. However, last night the documentary was also aired on CBC. Again – my apologies for not having given prior notice of this within these meanderings. I had heard that it was to be aired but not when. I only discovered yesterday that that was indeed to be the day.

The documentary can be found – however – here on the CBC website.  Now – I can stream it thence but I’m afraid I have no idea if it will work abroad, or how long it will be available there. Give it a go and let me know.

Needless to say it is well worth viewing. Beautifully crafted and most evocative – not to mention thought-provoking.

 

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Image from Pixabay“Music is the universal language of mankind”.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

One of the fascinating aspects of life post-(semi)-retirement here in Victoria has been the unexpected number of music acts that we have seen – many of them British and a fair percentage that I had not seen live before (regardless of having had many opportunities so to do in the past in the UK).

I have previously waxed lyrical about seeing Ringo Starr’s All Star band and my joy at being able to experience Peter Gabriel in Canada – something that I had really not expected – was unconfined.

In but a couple of week’s time we will be in Vancouver to see Paul Simon on his retirement tour. He is another that I have never gotten around to seeing and am chuffed at the opportunity so to do before it is too late.

The Proclaimers will be in Victoria later in the year and we have tickets! I have not seen them before either and would not perhaps have thought so to do were it not that I recently saw a fascinating documentary about them (narrated by David Tennant) that filled me with admiration for their ethos and work ethic.

I have long been a Simple Minds fan but have as yet – you’ve guessed it – never seen them live. I was recently listening to one of their greatest hits compilations and decided to look them up online to see if they are still active. I quickly discovered that they have recently released a new CD and are touring Europe during the summer. Sampling the new tracks online I was delighted to find the band back in vintage form. I rapidly purchased the album – lamenting the while the fact that the band’s tour did not extend to North America.

The very next morning The Girl received an email notification (she is massively organised in such matters) that the Minds had extended their tour and would be closing it in Vancouver at the end of October!

No prizes for guessing who now has a ticket!

 

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As the drear dark days of winter finally pack their bags and grumble off to the southern hemisphere to bother somebody else, nature rubs its sleepy eyes, yawns and sticks its head outside for a quick recce. To its surprise and great delight there is no-one home! The adults are apparently all away and that mischievous little imp has the garden (yard) all to itself.

The results are pretty much in line with the description that the excellent Glaswegian comedian – Kevin Bridges – ascribes to the teenage gangs from his boyhood whenever one of their number discovered that he was the fortunate possessor of an ’empty’* for the weekend!

Mayhem ensues!

 

By the time the rain has drifted away, the temperature risen to an acceptable level and I get around to dragging my sorry behind out into the garden – it looks as though the rain-forest has dropped by and decided to stay for the duration. There follows a month (and more) of hard labour!

 

Now – this is where ‘relativity’ comes in.

I am – you must understand – not talking about Einstein here – nor Galileo nor Newton. I am referencing neither the Sapir–Whorf hypothesis nor meta-ethical morality (which turns out to be a good thing as my knowledge of either is limited to the world of Wikipedia!).

I refer to the fact that what appears during the height of the summer (I don’t venture out there at all in winter!) to be a perfectly sensibly-sized plot – just about large enough that the neighbours on either side don’t intrude in any way – metamorphoses in the inchoate springtime into a vast overgrown estate full of fiendish flora resembling nothing so much as Wyndham’s Triffids.

A whole bunch of seemingly endless hard work – in other words.

Worth it though, of course. Best get back to it…

* Parents away – house to themselves – party!!

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Like Topsy

Not much later this time last year I was (ab)using the pages of this ‘journal’ to elicit assistance with the wildness that flourishes but a few yards outside my window. In that instance I was trying to establish which of the abundant flora in my garden (yard) were plants that I should be encouraging (not, of course, that that would make any difference either way!) and which were weeds and other undesirables.

The answer was – naturally – that all the things that were doing particularly well were the weeds!

Anyway – here I am again – begging free gardening advice from those amongst you who are horticulturally inclined (or perhaps make a living from said pursuit).

This – I take to be a Yukka of some variety:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidAs you can see it is doing its damnedest to push everything else out of the bed in which it resides.

The question is – how on earth does one prune such a beast?

Answers on a postcard please (as the saying goes)…

Ithankyou!

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid…the grass is riz.
I wonder where dem boidies is.
They say the boid is on the wing.
But that’s absoid.
The wing is on the boid!

Anon (as far as anyone knows!)

Three signs that spring is actually already here – however much the weather might be doing its very best to suggest otherwise.

 

First – the hummingbirds are back at the feeders again. The Kickass Canada Girl calls them ‘the diabetics‘ and observing just how much sugar nectar these tiny creatures tuck away I concede that she has a good point. Anyway – great to see them back again.

We did not have Christmas lights along the front of our house this year, since the upstairs was still in the hands of our contractors when the festive season rolled around. As a result there was no question of the lights being left up late – and thus no possibility of the hummingbirds using the strand again for their nesting ground as they did last year. Apparently hummingbirds like to stay pretty close to previous nest sites so we will see what they do this year.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidSecondly – the dogwood tree is in bloom. The Girl has apparently long hankered for a dogwood tree and we now have one. This makes her happy – and that makes me happy.

I read that dogwoods often suffer badly from lawnmower and trimmer cuts if they happen to be adjacent to lawns. If the bark is damaged at a low level the trees can become prone to infestation. Ours is a big tree as set so far back from the grass that it is actually in next door’s yard, so it is not in any such danger. If anything the reverse is the case. When the flowers drop on the lawn they do so in the form of hard husks which very rapidly take the edge off one’s mower blades!

Final sign of spring? The return of the Anacortes ferry! During the winter months of January, February and March the little green and white car ferry – a familiar presence during the rest of the year and regular viewing from our windows and deck – voyages no further than the San Juan Islands, eschewing the last leg of the trip into Sidney. There is always a little quiet celebration in downtown Sidney when it is back on its usual route.

Good to see that spring is here again. Now let’s have some sunshine!

 

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Wet coast

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidOne of the joys of living on the west coast of Canada – with its moderate oceanic climate and in what the World Wide Fund for Nature defines as the Pacific temperate rain forest ecoregion – is that we inhabit a verdant paradise of lush and abundant vegetation.

One of the drawbacks of living on the wet coast of Canada – with its moderate oceanic climate and in what the World Wide Fund for Nature defines as the Pacific temperate rain forest ecoregion – is that we inhabit a verdant paradise of lush and abundant vegetation!

Though the summers here on the tip of Vancouver Island tend to be dry and delightfully temperate, the winters incline to the aqueous. As I write this post I can gaze out of my studio window at a landscape that is undeniably ‘socked in’. I believe that the landscape is still there – but I cannot actually see any of it.

The result of all of this humectation is – naturally (see what I did there?) – that during the late winter and early spring all of that lush vegetation grows and grows and grows –  as though there were no tomorrow! It grows upwards – it grows outwards – and it presumably grows downwards as well!

Nature reveals itself to be the epitome of the doctrine of the survival of the fittest, with each species striving voraciously to overrun its neighbour in the ongoing quest for sunlight, water and nutrients. Left to its own devices the wonderful variety of plants in our delightful garden (yard!) would doubtless whittle itself down to just a couple of bigger, stronger brutes as all the weedy (there I go again!) specimens are trampled underfoot (I think I just stretched that particular metaphor a little too thin!).

The bottom boundary of our compact but decidedly highly-desirable estate is bounded with splendid trees and dense foliage. This latter is mostly – as far as I am aware – laurel of one type or another. Now, apparently the Schipka Cherry Laurel – which appears to form the bulk of this hedge – has the following qualities:

  • Hardy to minus 10 degrees
  • Fresh, glossy evergreen foliage attractive all year round
  • Easily grown even in difficult urban conditions
  • Can be clipped into hedges and screens
  • Drought and deer resistant

It also grows around 2 ft a year up to a height of 18 ft! As this boundary growth had not been pruned back for at least two and a half years – and most likely rather longer than that – it was in serious danger of taking over the smaller shrubs in the bed in front of it, not to mention cutting off our view of the sea whilst simultaneously advancing on my croquet lawn!

Fortunately it can also be pruned really hard. Apparently it simply shakes itself off and starts growing again.

I do now have a huge pile of clippings to be disposed of. Any takers?

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidOn the 9:00pm ferry from Tsawwassen to Swartz Bay – en route home after a weekend in Vancouver at the Canada Rugby Sevens (of which more later)…

Though clocks have already gone forward in Canada it is yet early in the year and the light has gone completely by the time we and a hoard of other contented rugby fans are ensconced in the cafeteria, snarfing down much needed victuals after a long and rousing day of cheering ourselves hoarse and singing lustily.

We have not even noticed that our moorings have been slipped and that we are heading out across the Georgia Strait when the purser comes the Tannoy:

Would the owner of a black Chrysler 300, licence plate xxxxx, please return to the car deck. You’ve left your lights on.”

BC Ferries run a tight ship (see what I did there) and do not care to have their schedules imperiled by a car or truck with a dead battery holding up the unloading.

We all snigger a bit at the poor sap who has left his lights on…

Five minutes later the purser is back on the horn:

Correction to my previous announcement concerning the owner of the black Chrysler 300, licence plate xxxxx. The lights aren’t the problem. The engine’s still running!

Incredulous guffaws fill the cafeteria. How embarrassing is that?

Five minutes later the purser is on again. In spite of the previous announcements it is clear that forgetting to turn his car engine off is only one of this particular driver’s shortcomings. He is, perhaps, deaf as well – or at least has his head wedged firmly where the sun don’t shine!

Full of sympathy for the poor schmuck we naturally all fall off our chairs laughing…

There are no further announcements. Either the recalcitrant owner has finally engaged his brain and put in a belated appearance or BC Ferries have simply decided that enough is enough, broken into the car and silenced it!

I guess we’ll never know…

 

*Part 1 here, by the way!

 

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