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The Girl

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“…or my watch has stopped”.

Groucho Marx

Back in the day – whenever that was – I would hazard a guess that more folk wore wristwatches than did not. I certainly did and as someone who spent a life in a timetable-centred environment (education in my case) these handy devices were/are a godsend. When being late is not an option knowing the time is essential.

I was at school myself back in the days of the cheap mechanical watch (and expensive ones too, of course, though not for the likes of me) and it will come as no surprise that my first watch was just such – by Timex as I recall. The quartz motion did not really make an appearance on wrists until the mid to late 1970s, followed a while later by the first digital watches. The big change  – which resulted in a dramatic reduction of watch wearing – came rather later, in the early 2000s. The ubiquity of mobile devices – whence most young folk now glean their consciousness of the passing of the hours (if they do at all!) – has rendered the humble wristwatch obsolete as far as most are concerned.

Not – naturally – to me. I am uncomfortable if I don’t have a watch on my wrist and I find myself looking down at said appendage rather more frequently than I am usually aware of. Also – I am an old-fashioned kind of a guy and hold no truck with such new-fangled fancies as quartz or digital watches. I do make an exception for the automatic winding mechanism, which evolved during the early part of the last century, but that’s as far as I go.

As it happens, I don’t really care for sports watches either  – so my chosen timepiece tends to be an everyday or dress watch; analogue in every sense – though it can make use of my motion to wind itself.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidThis watch will be familiar to those who know me – the very lovely Omega Seamaster that The Girl bought me the year we got married. She would have liked to have found me a watch fashioned during the year of my birth, but that proved too difficult – and 1966 was a good year in many ways for us Brits so it does have a good resonance.

The post linked above does chronicle – however – the problem with the routine wearing of such a lovely timepiece. The Seamaster runs splendidly – until it doesn’t… and when it stops it does so expensively. In part that is due to the difficulty of finding a watch repairer who can service and fix vintage watches and the availability of any parts required. If you reread the post you will see that the watch was repaired in 2021. Sadly it stopped again last year and awaits further attention.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidWhenever the Seamaster has been ‘hors de combat’ I have reverted to the first real watch that I purchased (back in the early 1980s) – the Oris Big Crown pilot’s watch. Unlike the Seamaster these watches are not really collectors items, but they were well made and this one has given me forty years of really good and reliable service…

…until recently!

To be fair – the Oris has not stopped. If I leave it sitting on the dining room table it will quite happily run accurately and well. If I put it on my wrist – however – it will pause randomly during the day for variable periods. I suspect the automatic mechanism needs some attention, but these watches are harder than the Omega when it comes to find a willing repairer to take a look.

Of course – an unreliable timepiece is no good at all if one’s day is ruled by deadlines. As a result I have found myself obliged to purchase a new watch – for the first time since the early 80s.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid…and here it is. This is a Seiko Presage ‘Zen Garden’. Not everybody’s choice, but a good solid automatic analogue watch with a better than average movement. My requirements in making that choice were that it must look pretty and give me another forty years of reliable service – the which should certainly see me out!

 

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Finally!

Clearly a day to celebrate!

Back in May 2012 The Girl was about to pay a visit to the UK so that she could attend her citizenship ceremony…

Those who have not been following this saga since I started blogging back in January 2012 may start scratching their heads at this point and wondering about the chronology… Actually, it is all quite simple. The Girl came to Victoria in March that year to take up a job opportunity that was (or appeared to be) too good to miss out on. I remained in the UK and the plan was that I would retire early in the summer of 2013 and join her in Canada at that point. Quite apart from the fact that living – er! – apart, was actually itself a very silly idea – as it turned out so was her taking the job. Later in the year it all went spectacularly tits-up and we ended up back in England for another couple of years.

However, back in May 2012 she had already applied for – and been granted – British Citizenship. The ceremony at the end of May was the end of that little chapter in this long and complex story.

The reason that I mention it at all is because her citizenship ceremony provided me with a suitable trigger to initiate my first attempt at applying for Permanent Residency for Canada – an essential prerequisite to moving here. How that process – and the whole move itself – panned out is the very basis for this online journal. Safe to say that it turned out to be quite a saga. If the details are of interest (perhaps you are contemplating such a move yourself) then searching the archive for posts in the category ‘Moving to Canada’ will reveal all – and then some!

Two rounds of PR applications (her return to the UK put the first attempt on hold) – retirement and the move to British Columbia in 2015 – a five year period living here before I could apply for citizenship – that lengthy process itself, culminating in my Citizenship Ceremony in the fall of last year – and finally, the slightly bumpy ride of applying for a Canadian passport to add to my UK one. All this has taken somewhat more than a decade to come to fruition, but today… today…!

…my passport was finally delivered!

Whooo-hoo!!

There it is at the top of the page, nestling up to my British passport. So – we are now both fully ‘citizened’ up and documented to travel…

…of which more in the next post!

 

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Ah! January…

‘Tis the time of year to reflect on the one that has just passed. Did it measure up to our hopes and expectations? Given the state of the world, did we have much in the way of hopes and expectation for it to live up to?

As ever, the best way to find out is to locate the equivalent postings from this time last year and to see exactly what – if anything much – we were hoping for…

…then we can see if any of it actually happened!

…and after that we can repeat the exercise for yet another year!

Hang on a sec while I have a shufti…

OK – here is our basic wish-list from last year – with progress reports in red:

  • To get to see family and friends – …yes we did… see below!
  • To be able to entertain again – …there was indeed some entertaining – and not all of it outdoors
  • To dine out – again – …hoorah! We can once again eat out (and on occasion, somewhat splendidly!)
  • To see some live theatre – …well, yes.. but not so much in Canada. See below:
  • To enjoy some live music – …once again – one event only – Barney Bentall’s Cariboo Express in November
  • To attend a live sporting event (preferably Rugby!) – …sadly not
  • To be able to travel… anywhere – …well – speaking of which…

In addition:

  • It is our fervent wish that we get to travel to the UK during the coming summer. Whether or not this happens will depend entirely on the course that the pandemic takes on both sides of the pond over the coming months. We are not holding our collective breaths.

…and this we duly did – emboldened by visits in the spring from good friends in the UK and from an old and most dear friend from New York. The expedition was most enjoyable, even though we did not get to see everyone that we would have liked to have seen. We got to the theatre in London and Bath – we dined splendidly and well – we finished our trip with a lovely sojourn in Paris. The downside? We came back with COVID. Oh well!

  • We will carry out some further domestic upgrades – air-conditioning to guard against future ‘heat domes’ – a new hot water system so that we can console ourselves with even longer baths when things don’t work out as we would wish.

…well – we did the air-conditioning – and just in time for a hot spell too. An excellent notion which works well. The hot water tank replacement is still on hold – but will get done…

  • Normalised work! The Girl would like to be able get back out into the wider world and to visit clients face to face again – not to mention paying a nostalgic visit to her office! I would like to teach students who can actually see my face as I do so.

…pretty well normalised as it turns out. The Girl is back doing (somewhat cautious) home visits and going into the office two days a week. Last spring I was teaching in an N95 respirator and a headset (for streaming purposes). Not much fun. By the autumn I was back to face to face teaching without a mask – even though I wore one when around the enclosed bits of campus.

  • More music! One positive over the last year is that I have been able to write more than enough new songs for the Chanteuse and I to put together another ‘album’. We are currently recording her vocals on these tracks and we are making good progress. Look for further pronouncements in the coming months.

…Last year was indeed a good year in musical terms. The Chanteuse and I finished our third album and at the end of August Anam Danu released ‘Soul Making‘. We were even able to have a lovely reception in our garden to celebrate the release and – for the first time – we played a few tracks from the album live to the assembled friends and supporters. The feedback we have had regarding the music has been overwhelmingly positive and we both have a very real sense of achievement.

So – in spite of all the many troubles in the wider world, 2022 was a good year for The Girl and I. What will we hope to accomplish in 2023?… Check back in a few posts’ time to find out.

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A mixed bag

…random ramblings on a recent rag-bag of topics from the Pacific northwest…

First things first… ‘Tis once again the time of year to wish The Girl a very happy – if slightly belated (in real world, if not in blog-world terms) birthday! Yay! Happy B-day!

Life here on the west coast of Canada trundles along in its usual way. We are both busy and things are returning to some semblance of order now that the western world has decided that COVID is over and done with (even if it isn’t!). Secure in the knowledge that our multiple vaccine boosters and immunity from having had a dose of the lurgy make us a little more protected than we were before, we have on occasion stepped out to eat and to attend other public social events.

We even decided that it was safe enough to go back to the theatre – a least for a few months until the ‘immunity’ wears off. We had tickets for a play at The Belfry for The Girl’s birthday but the performance was cancelled at the last minute due to ‘illness’ (now, what could that be?). Our tickets have been rescheduled for this coming weekend, so let’s see how that goes.

Following the grim (as in cold and wet) spring and early summer, concerning which I posted at length earlier this year, the weather finally got its act together and we are enjoying a most pleasant Indian Summer. Temperatures remain in the 20s C and we have had no rain to speak of for several months. The garden could really do with some to be honest, but I guess it will come soon enough.

Apropos of very little, I feel that I should extend my commiserations to those who yet reside in the UK. Though I try not to comment on politics in these dark days it would not be – I believe – controversial to describe the UK political establishment since 2016 a a complete sh*tshow. However, even by such measures the new incumbents of 10 Downing Street might just prove be the worst and most dangerous yet.

Why do I care? Well – last week’s shenanigans wiped a considerable chunk off my monthly pension income as the chancellor carelessly crashed sterling and sent exchange rates plummeting (or soaring! – depends which end of the chain one is at). The subsequent recovery has been encouraging, but the knowledge that this ruling cabal’s dangerous ideology might well cause permanent damage is chilling to those of us who have no say in the matter.

In a strange Hitchcock-ian coda: yesterday I was out in the garden, underneath our deck (the which forms a sort of veranda across the whole width of the back of the house). It was impossible to miss the fact that – out in the stand of trees that border our property to the east – a huge and raucous convocation of birds had gathered. I could not actually see most of them, as the trees are tall and there is plenty of foliage. They were making sufficient noise, however, that it was impossible to ignore them. Quite startlingly so, in fact.

I took one step out from the cover of the deck and immediately the whole gathering took off. There must have been thousands of them (clearly of more than one species). Their parting darkened the skies for a moment or two and then they were gone – and a sudden and total silence descended.

Now – I wonder what this portends?

 

 

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My apologies! I have of late been falling down on my blogging duties. I offer as no more than a feeble excuse that things have been in-feasibly and, perhaps, unexpectedly busy of late. The Winter term at College has been building to its climax; we have been entertaining friends from abroad (more of that in a further post) and I have been trying to get a grip on all that is going on in the garden – between bouts of (less-unexpectedly) inclement weather.

I know… poor show all round!

I did promise more on the trip to Vancouver that featured in my last post. I took some photos and, whilst they are not that exciting, I will nonetheless share them with (ie – force them upon) the gentle reader.

As I mentioned in that previous post, the purpose of the visit was for The Girl to attend a conference organised by her First Nation at one of Vancouver’s hotels/conference centres. The event was very well organised and well attended – and clearly yielded extremely positive results.

The business side of things did not, however, prevent The Girl and I getting out on the first evening for a splendid romantic dinner at Cardero’s in Coal Harbour. Whilst The Girl tucked into the scallops I enjoyed a lovely piece of European Sea Bass (not that easy to find on the west coast) and we shared a really rather decent Chablis. Nice atmosphere too:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidOn the Saturday – whilst The Girl was engaged in her sessions – I pretty much stayed in our room, watching the matches of the final weekend of the 2022 Six Nations tournament. Well done to the French on a thoroughly deserved (if also widely predicted) Grand Slam – and the less said about the Scots (who seem to have regressed by about three years!) the better!

This chap – outside our fourteenth floor window – seemed keen to know the scores as well:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidThe trip was a good one – with yet more familial contacts made by The Girl – plus the opportunity to have breakfast with a dear friend who now lives in VanCity. For my part it was actually a pretty good rest to be able to relax in a decent hotel room up in the clouds high above the west end of the city.

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

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Last year – in mid-June – I posted a couple of items regarding the appalling discoveries of unmarked graves at a number of the former Residential Schools across Canada. The first of those pieces was an acknowledgement of the terrible discovery at Kamloops. The second was a heartfelt and affecting piece written by The Girl, who has good reason to be extremely well informed on such matters and concerning which she elaborated therein.

A month subsequent to those postings I made further reference in these pages to an overnight visit that we paid to Kamloops, though I did not, for a variety of reasons, elaborate at the time on the purpose of the trip. Since then The Girl has been spending a good deal of her time furthering existing connections with her First Nation, as well as making new ones. Just a few weeks ago we spent a weekend in Vancouver (the which will feature in my next post) so that she could be present at a conference also attended by a number of her cousins. This process is difficult but, I believe, also rewarding for her and and is something that she has wanted to do for a while.

I asked her – naturally – about how she felt regarding the events of this last week at the Vatican, during which the Pope issued an historic first apology for the part that elements of the Catholic Church played in the abuses that took place at the Residential Schools. She told me that it is a start – but that there is much more to be done.

Let us fervently hope for further necessary progress in short order.

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It is The Girl’s birthday! Yaaaaay! Happy birthday to The Girl…

It is always nice when such celebration days fall upon a weekend – ‘cos then one can really relax and go to town (or indeed stay home should one prefer!).

We have already indulged in a certain amount of (non-alcoholic) celebration and this afternoon will find us visiting a nearby spa – followed mayhap by a celebratory repast…

…and it is not actually raining or blowing half a gale at the moment!

Life can still be good…

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid“…is a joy forever”.

John Keats

Should you choose to search this journal (though goodness knows why you would so do) for the word ‘Omega’, you would find two entries.

The first such dates back to my very early postings in March 2012. I had just acquired my first serious camera and was experimenting with its capabilities. I took macro photos of two treasured possessions – my much loved 1976 Fender Precision bass and my even more loved 1966 Omega Seamaster.

This latter was a wedding gift from The Girl and – as is her way with such things – she had invested a great deal of time and effort in locating the perfect watch for me.

Respect!

The second reference was in a post that I wrote in May 2015 – a matter of months before I retired and we finally shipped everything to Canada. The subject of this post concerned a then recent and by no means inexpensive sojourn that the Seamaster had spent with an ex-employee of Omega (and lecturer in horology to boot!) being serviced, pampered and generally fixed up – the which had become necessary subsequent to a decline in its previous reliable time-keeping.

Now – I don’t know if the Seamaster (somewhat ironically) disliked the travel involved in relocating half a world away, but it was an annoyingly short interval after this major overhaul that it started stopping (if you see what I mean) at apparently random intervals. It would perform well for a while and then just grind to a halt for no reason. A watch that behaves that way is worse than useless so I put the Omega back in its box and switched to the trusty Oris that I had purchased way back in the 80s.

And that is where things have remained ever since. If we had still been in the UK I would no doubt have gone back to see the expensive dude to ask him – “WTF?”… but that was clearly no longer an option. I thought about getting the watch looked at here, but embarrassment at the amount I had already laid out gave me pause…

…until now!

In yet another unexpected boon arising from lack of COVID travel I decided that now was a good a time as any to set things straight and the Omega duly enjoyed a brief hiatus at Francis Jewellers in Victoria. These chaps specialise in classic watches and run their own workshop – thus giving the appearance of knowing what they are about.

And now – as you can see – the Seamaster is back and looking beautiful. Let’s hope that it is now also running properly.

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Those of you who know me well know how I can stand up for other people – wade in and have my voice heard.  Less so when it is very personal or if it is about me.  Although never said to me explicitly, I always sensed that I should stay quiet, hide, just in case.  In case what?  I didn’t know.  Being raised by a residential school survivor and a parent who spent time in a French Catholic orphanage I think it was bred in the bone.  Stay quiet – don’t cause anyone in ‘authority’ to pay attention to you because that never turns out well.  I am grateful I grew up loved and wanted and cared for and I love and admire my grandparents and parents and relations for who they are, all that they did and accomplished.   We are a family of survivors.

But when we are reminded, again, of the genocide of the first people and the children found buried at the same residential school where my grandmother and two aunties were forced to go, it is not a time to be quiet or hide.

Canada does not want to pay compensation to the remaining residential school survivors of St. Anne’s.

This school had the electric chair that they used to punish children and also to study the effects of electricity on the human body.

The information in the Canada Food Guide was informed by scientific studies on children in residential schools.  That is how we learned the minimum requirements of what a person needs to eat without dying or succumbing to disease.  It is not a surprise that my grandmother did not talk much about life at the residential school, but she did talk about always being hungry.  Always, always hungry.  Imagine in a land of plenty growing up starving, surrounded by people who treat you as if you are less than human.

There can be no question that children in residential schools were abused in so many ways.  They did not get to live with the people who loved them, who wanted them, and they watched their friends die and they were forced to dig their graves.

For all of these reasons, if you are moved to, I invite you to write an email or a letter to the Prime Minister of Canada (who, along with his cabinet, abstained from voting in a motion put forth by the NDP that Canada drop it’s ‘belligerent and litigious approach to justice) – that you don’t approve of these actions, that indigenous people are people.  That Canada drops all lawsuits against indigenous peoples.  That the millions of dollars spent fighting in courts be used to provide all reservations with clean water.  Stop arresting those who are protecting unceded territory, pay compensation to St Anne’s survivors.  It won’t undo past actions, but it is a meaningful act of reconciliation.  Every letter makes a difference.

This is not meant to make anyone feel badly – too many people do not know about this, or the extent of the horror.  We cannot change the past but if we do not face this, together, we, all of us, cannot heal.

All my relations

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No words

I try – for the most part – to keep the posts to this gazette relatively light-hearted, the which – for the most part – reflects the blessed lives that The Girl and I lead out here in Beautiful British Columbia. Regular readers will know that this praxis occasionally falls by the wayside should there be happenings out in the wider world on which I just feel the absolute need to comment.

It is our great good fortune that only very rarely are there circumstances in which the dark clouds gather nearer to home and that some grim situation intrudes upon our privileged existence.

This, sadly, is one such…

The Girl has been greatly affected in this last period by the news from our very doorstep of the terrible discovery of the unmarked graves of 215 children at the former Kamloops Residential School here in BC. This news has been published around that world and you may have already read something of it wherever you are. The Girl was… is… understandably deeply upset by the news and moved to put something into words.

With your indulgence I will upload her reflections in my next post:

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