Christmas Spirit

As the last post for 2013 - see, I kept my sorta-New year's resolution! - this is the only time I've found for writing this month.  The first week of December was simply planning my whereabouts and had two Christmas parties, followed by a week of decorating and shopping/gathering gifts, then a week of baking (lastly, to ensure freshness) that was also tied into visiting friends and many card games w/rum+coke+egg nog.  Christmas itself was a trek to my parents' place in the Okanagan for a few days. 

This year it seemed to take a while for me personally to wind up to the real Christmas... excitement? Or at least the calm enjoyment.  I think this is primarily because I've decided that Christmas for me is not a lot of flash+dazzle, and certainly not the commercial hype and guilt-induced spending to impress others.  It's not that I can't afford it, I just don't subscribe to that mentality and am disappointed that that is our social norm, and that it's more concentrated around the holiday season.  I dislike the 'rockin'!!' or jazzy squealing brass big-band (most prevalent in malls) Christmas songs about Santa and how much stuff he's bringing or whatever the singer is demanding, it seems so over-the-top and has stretched the classic notion of generosity to the point of ridiculous overconsumption.  Thus most of December - indeed, from Halloween onward - I limit my time in malls as much as I can and will often be frowning when I'm there.  Sorry.
   
I gave this a good long _think_ as I sat at a Christmas party table among strangers, all dressed in our finest and enjoying the meal but not really connecting.  I drifted off mesmerized at a Christmas tree in the far corner, neatly perfect and fake but its tiny lights quietly welcoming.  Dinner was turkey+vegetables+potatos typical for Canada, and it occurred to me that if one removes the "Christ" and "Mass" from Christmas, what are we left with? I propose that we are left with another Thanksgiving;
- there is a focus on a feast, and the meal is practically the same for both holidays.
- for many it may be the only time to get together as a larger familial unit or with friends that have been gone/busy all year otherwise, therefore there is heightened attention to the presence of each, whether it be baby's first Christmas or an elderly relative's last.  Be thankful that we have them in our lives.
- as the year closes it's a time to recount to others as well as yourself what's happened in the past year before asking for more _whatever_ next year.  Be thankful for what possessions you have, good health if you've got it, and all positive events in this year. 

While missionaries have spread Christianity to all corners of the globe there's no escaping Christmas as the most widely recognized holiday no matter what its expression, so we all may as well enjoy it for whatever it means to us individually.  There's a movement to take the "Christ" out of Christmas and officially make it a culturally unspecific and religion-less "Xmas" - not just shorthand for writing, it's even pronounced  ksms, which is really politically-correct overkill.  I feel that any religious holiday can be experienced or explored as long as the believers are tolerant and the non-believers are respectful.  I still wish people "Merry Christmas" and if they're going to be offended by it then perhaps they're overlooking the intention of goodwill that spans across cultures during a cold season of celebrating winter harvest/resilience amidst natural scarcity (for example, a conifer that's celebrated for staying green while the deciduous trees around them are bare and asleep).

My Christmas season was not entirely Christ-less, as I caught a Winterharp concert on the winter solstice at a church nearby.  I've seen them before and was glad that I could catch them again, as I wasn't sure I'd get tickets, this was a Christmas gift to myself; beautifully elegant music resonating in a great stone building.  That's more my style of Christmas, perhaps that's what I'd been missing in the weeks prior!

I got to enjoy the sacred space and had a good _think_ about Jesus too.  Churches usually have a crucifix somewhere, which depending on the church/artist can be more or less bloody and grotesque.  This just makes me sad.  Not only was He supposed to be a sacrifice to end all other blood sacrifices, but it was such a drawn out brutal ordeal I wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone a nice guy teacher-and-healer.  Even when I go fishing I insist on clubbing my catch promptly.  In our time we can think we're a little more humane even in taking lives for food, sport, or war... but are we really any better off than 2000 years ago? Perhaps in the same church there could be a picture of the Sacred Heart.  That's more my kind of Jesus, or at least a more hopeful notion.  Sure He's still wounded, but He's got a glowing heart that burns with love! Says "Hi, I'm your friend! See my heart glows!" How many people do you know have glowing hearts?! We need more folks with glowing hearts!

Cornucopia, in the cold

Or perhaps titled, How To Be A Bum In A Posh Resort Town

Whistler is home of the 2010 winter Olympics, but otherwise a fairly small resort town with a focus on outdoor recreation, one-road-in-one-road-out, and otherwise quite isolated from any other town or city.  Took a Greyhound bus two hours to get here from Vancouver.  I think the buildings are beautiful though a bit imposing, in a sleek modern way that uses a lot of stone and wood, that average perhaps five storeys tall.  The streets meander like a proper 'village', squares connected with passageways and trails.  Deliberate landscaping and meticulous maintenance.  The population seems quite young and shifts with the seasonal workers, everyone seeming to be from somewhere else, and all very hospitable and helpful.  

Cornucopia was initially a wine festival, that has now expanded into food and healthy lifestyle lectures/events, in Whistler.  I'd heard about it a few years ago and either forgot or was too late to volunteer.  This year I threw my hat in the ring and was accepted, 'working' a few events with a range of job duties.  I arrived early, lest there be any issues with transportation, and currently I am floating homelessly as I typically do when I travel.  I'll check into a hostel if I desperately need to, if I get hurt or sick, but otherwise am stubbornly cheap and would rather save the ~$200 in accommodation for the six days.  I'll also try skipping the bus back, if I can hitchhike, as I have no pressing concerns to address that require my immediate attendance next week.

I am toting a fair bit of luggage - backpack, netbook, purse - half of which are 'nice' clothes that we wear to dazzle and impress and appear professional while serving guests, but are of little use when sleeping in the wild.  Admittedly this goes against two rules of backpacking; #1 - don't bring anything you can't afford to lose, and #2 - bring half as much stuff and twice as much money as you think you'll need.

Day 1 - Arrive in Whistler Village afternoon, first priority is to find the Tourism Office which is conveniently right across the street from the bus dropoff and very obvious.  Get a free map of the town.  I have the worker there mark the conference center for 'work', the library for internet, and any suggestions for pubs with live music on (both an exploration and experience of the town, and an excuse to stay out of the cold for as long as possible.  Not a fan of karaoke? I will be now!).  Get a local paper that lists the schedules of various performances in pubs.  Find the conference center to meet organizers and familiarize with the building.  Get a printed Cornucopia schedule.  Find library to check my emailed schedule with the printed one and note times to better plan my whereabouts effectively.  Note that the library has cheap coffee, hot water for my soup+oatmeal packets.  Internet communications and research till library closes, find The Crystal Lounge with comfy chairs and a fireplace to keep warm. Somehow the ambience didn't suit me, perhaps that the karaoke started late, or that they dimmed the lights (and fire!!!) at 9pm, leaving me unable to write postcards or read or do anything more really than avoid staring at the young couple obliviously making out on the couch across from me.  Friendly staff, served me hot water without demanding I buy alcohol, and recharged my phone behind their counter.  Move onto FireRock (loosely affiliated with but run separately from the Westin Resort & Spa) which was much better for me; less crowded, well lit and fire going till 11pm, again friendly staff with hot water, and open mic night with the locals = better music.  Engaging conversation, bartender refilled my waterbottle before pub closed.  Float around town and find the last warmth of the dying nightclubs at 2am.  Note that the bus stop benches here are not bum-proofed like the ones in Vancouver, as in, made deliberately awkward for lying down on.  Bench outside the Hilton had too many night staff milling around too close for my comfort, though I'm sure they were all very nice too.  Bench outside Delta hotel was too cold.  Speak with locals, the only 24hr business to sit in was the McDonalds I didn't even know was there.  Buy a cheap McChicken, the clerk commented that I looked tired and let me sleep there till 6am, as well as adding some free fries.    

Day 2 - Uncomfy benches, bright and noisy but better than outside.  From the town center I time myself walking how long it would take to get to the Fairmont in the Upper Village because I will have little time between the complimentary meditation+yoga offered for volunteers and my 'work' on Thursday.  Takes 7 minutes, through a dark section with an information sign about bears! Find the Fairmont with no problems, welcomed by concierge despite being very early for class, learn that it's unusually dark because of a planned service disruption by hydro crews.  Meditation class, yoga is tricky but makes my body feel better after awkward not-sleep.  Free tea.  Hit library for communications etc.  Fluke into a small lecture about whether the choices we make in our life will lead to 'a good life' - as perceived by Aristotle.  I leave thinking that Aristotle would be very disappointed with me and I should redesign my whole life (I'll discuss this again in its own post).  Head to Fairmont's Mallard Bar for live music+hot water, large room with barely anyone in it, enjoy the show white writing a postcard, and notice that music I grew up with in high school is now considered a 'classic'.  Music stops at 10:30pm since barely anyone's there or noticing, staff remarks that they're operating at 8% capacity.  Move to Crystal Lounge again for more hot water+another pretty good solo guitarist in a dead bar, staff turn on fireplace at my request.  They close up the bar around me at 1am and make no mention that it's time to go, so I save them the trouble and leave when they do at 1:30am.  Return to the Fairmont before 2am, respectfully stay on outside bench since I'm not a paying guest.  At 4am-ish I sneak in to use their washroom and add another layer of clothes, return to couch in foyer that's a bit drier and warmer than outside, concierge doesn't notice/mind (I don't want to upset them if I plan to return daily for meditation+yoga). Watch the rain start, and 'sleep' a bit. 

Day 3 - Slink quietly to couch in lobby, keep quiet, get some free coffee.  Another wardrobe change from several layers-of-everything-warm-I-have-on-me to simple yoga clothes, Caffeine+airy clothes+warmer couch = more positive mood! Only three people for meditation class and 4 for yoga, yoga has two photographers I am NOT happy about.  Anyone who knows me knows I'm fairly selective about media photos and my cyber-footprint at the best of times, and am NOT keen of my terrible downward dog being splashed across the Globe and Mail.  Upon inquiry I find that because it's an editorial and not for promotional gain they don't need permission to use my image, it's just "capturing life".  I do NOT fancy being captured, especially without consent or even the courtesy of notice that we'll be filmed.  I guess in these times of amateur photojournalism we're all supposed to be fine with our image utilized in whatever context we may or may not even see to protest.  Leave yoga feeling very irritated - so much for a calming preparation for work!  Head to conference center early for my shift, volunteer center not open, so I use this time for internet communications etc.  Found a host for the night!! My first task for the festival is to restock the Cornucopia brochures for the hotels, and this being the first sunny day of my visit I enjoy the walk around and see the town in daylight.  Eventually wander back to the conference center, and with no other assignments to do, sit in on a cocktail mixing bartender's challenge featuring Flora de Cana rum.  There is a rep from Whistler Brewing dispensing beer samples too; Black Tusk (weighty, with coffee+chocolate notes) and a chipotle beer new for the season that was surprisingly subtle.  The bartenders don't need any assistance tearing down after the event, so I leave to the library to await my host getting off of work, have granola bar+cup of soup.  Meet my host at his work, he drove us back to his place in the community north of Whistler Village called Emerald.  Chat a bit and listen to him play a bit of piano and organ, he's easygoing and has solid opinions, which is a nice combination.  Have dinner of what was around the kitchen; ground turkey tacos w/garlic cream cheese and grated cheese.  Beer and Skittles, watch documentaries on projected global flooding and construction tunnels of the pyramids, but I'm falling asleep already and it's not even 10pm yet.  So nice to have a hot shower! My bedroom had it's own thermostat too, I'll make good use of that!

Day 4 - Wake up at 7:30, first good sleep in a long time.  Get a ride back to town with my host as he went to work, my shift schedule means I'll have to bus back and find his place tonight.  Have an apple for breakfast, more computer time.  When it rains it pours - volunteer organizer came by and says that some restaurant demonstrations' events had slow ticket sales, so I can sit in on them.  "Sit in" on these means we get to try, as long as we're not wearing our identification badges.  Start off with a greeting mimosa, nice start to the day.  Earls showcased their new brunch menu, and first off needed a volunteer... so sure! I make a Caesar on stage, and thus get one bigger than everyone else, hooray! In order was the following: a tiny granola+yogurt parfait, a Moscow Mule shooter, a teeny frittata w/side salad, a hot buttered rum shooter, and a dainty portion of sourdough French toast.  A few baby Caesars were leftover, get one of those too. 

The next demonstration in 45 minutes, time to check computer quick, walk around for a stretch.  IT IS NOW SNOWING! Onward to a show on cerviche, a very personable presenter shows us 4 fantastic recipes, and as I inquire what he does with the leftover ingredients he wheels away afterward (don't throw it out!), he enthusiastically offers me to take some from the kitchen later.  I figure it'll make a nice treat for my nice host.  Alright, playtime's over and now it's time to 'work', I don my apron and tend to a lecture on making cocktails at home.  I didn't receive any instructions, and no other recognizable staff were helping though a few plain-clothed folks seemed to take tasks on themselves.  They all came out from wherever they were hiding to help with cleanup and tear down of that event.  I get to try a bit of rum punch.  1hr break in the staff room to type and have coffee+gummy worms, more staff are here for the next event, some recognize each other from the previous year.  At 6pm I am to help hand out tasting note brochures and wine glasses at the door of the next event; several Argentina wines and a huge buffet of mostly meat that smells amazing.  First time I've seen a real roast pig.  Have a great time 'working', an easy contribution to make others happy, who are already excited and cheerful anyway.  As the event winds down there's enough food left for the volunteers to indulge, and us door staff wistfully watch our ranks filter away with heaping plates of food while we await our relief team.  Myself and another woman are the last two to eat, the food is a little cool but delicious.  I even get the cheek meat of the roasted pig upon request.  Return for the last 15 min of random tidying up.  I think that can sum up the nature of  'work' here; random.  Everyone does every job here and there.  Much fluttering from task to task and scurrying to find supplies and prepare rooms from one event to another.  It's not quite the precision and flow of the Vancouver Winefest, but similar, and seems appropriate to the overall vibe of Whistler.  The cerviche chef had given away all the leftover cerviche by the time my shift finished, so I return empty handed.  IT STOPPED SNOWING! I'm glad, as I wait about an hour out at the bus stop for a bus to take me to Emerald.  My host is asleep anyway by the time I get there around 11pm, was good enough to leave the door unlocked and I quietly slink in, shower, sleep.

Day 5 - Wake around 7:30pm, listen for the telltale cough of my host before boiling water in a pot for some echinacea tea for us.  Not much time to drink it, I pack my bags and am back out into the wild for tonight onward since he's hosting others.  We drive to another neighbouring town to fetch his snowboard from storage for him to spend a few hours after work on the slopes.  We part at his workplace and I head to the conference center, brief computer check, and sit in on a raw food demonstration that gives me a spirulina+algae+coconut milk juice, homemade almond milk, a delicious granola, and gluten-free rice flour bread with raw pumpkin+date spread.  'Worked' a lecture on wine industry's trends, and could sit in on it but not drink, only smell the samples... torturous Moscato and NZ Sauv Blanc! I feel the organizers poured too many place settings for rather small ticket sales, perhaps hoping for last-minute whims for the anticipated flood of Whistler visitors for opening day.  The lectures are alarmingly poorly attended, a capacity of 50+ and only 8 come... We dump out a lot of untouched alcohol, of all sorts.  The only sold-out show is pairing wine with pizza, where I finally get a chance to pour.  We serve pizza and get the leftover crusts for our volunteer staff room.  I get a trial-by-fire tour of the back passageways of the conference center as I 'work' several lectures, setting up and taking down.  I find that if I assign myself a task then trust that other aspects are being taken care of by others, the 'work' gets done faster and with more consistancy, and we're not undoing each other's tasks.  With pizza crusts and water in my tummy I have a little time to kill on the computer before bussing a 3hr evening event, 'working' with the kitchen staff of the conference center, nice crew of people and very patient with a newbie.  Bussing tables is a simple steady task I enjoy.  Break a glass, noooooo!!! The group putting on the event has a club called Garfinkles, and welcomes all the 'working' staff there afterwards as thanks.  Head there, but it's loud and reminds me again that I'm not a clubby person, but at least it's warm.  I get a text from a couchsurfer who I've had a bit of email correspondence with in weeks prior to my arrival here, suggesting we meet up to watch a band at Longhorn's, and this seems like much preferable option for me.  I hurry across town, find Longhorn's and the fella inside with no problem.  The band I recognize as July Talks, one that I'd discovered just on my last trip to Halifax, I'm amazed that they'd escaped my live music radar, thrilled they play a "small town" that I happen to be in, and disappointed that I just caught the last song of their set.  I discuss my adventures so far with this couchsurfer, who can't host because of disapproving roommates, and we part as Longhorn closes at 1am.  I return to Garfinkles for the last hour before it closes at 2am and chat with a fella who seems drunk but amicable enough.  I get a text from the couchsurfer again who refuses to let me sleep in the cold, drives back to pick me up and bring me to the neighbouring community of Alpine Meadows, has a comfy couch in a (very) warm house, finds a sleeping bag for me, makes a cuppa chamomile tea for us, and we have a further chat on travels, food and eastern religions.  Awesome craic, that just makes my night.  Slept like a log.

Day 6 - Awake I'm not sure how, from a vivid dream that's now lost, around 8-ish? IT IS SNOWING AGAIN.  Have a quick shower while my nice host makes us egg+bacon breakfast sandwiches and mandarin oranges to be consumed later, he drives us back to the Westin Resort where he works (I should be in touch with him later to see if he can sneak me into the sauna facilities), I head to the convention center to type awhile.  I notice that I can't find my black shoes, I think they fell out of an open bag through the various coat-checks the previous night.  Annoying, but they were getting ratty and were free to me anyway, so I won't cry about it.  Eat the breakfast sandwich, an orange, and the candy+coffee in the volunteer staff room.  Assist with a paella demonstration from the same cerviche chef, another great show (I will commend him to the Cornucopia organizers).  Smells fantastic, and don't get to try any of it! Our organizer decides that the remaining events to 'work' don't require volunteer assistance, and she thanks us for our service with tickets to sit in AND DRINK the wine in another well-presented lecture on French reds.  Get to browse (and sample) products in the artisan market; smoothies, tea, gelato, granola, and various baked products including bannock.  The market was just wrapping up and vendors were giving away promotional samples just to avoid having to transport it back home, so I have plenty of tasty bannocks now, slightly sweet and pretty greasy, maybe will keep me alive awhile longer.  Time to leave the familiarity of the conference center that's been a base of operations for the past week, plunder what granola bars and candy I can and then head off into the cold damp, sometime during the day it had stopped snowing.  Garfinkles is still closed, Longhorn doesn't have my shoes, I settle next to the fireplace in the Crystal Lounge for a jam session, music sounds pretty decent with a reggae beat mostly.  Purge garbage from my purse/bags (long overdue), organize, search online for rideshares headed south for late Mon/early Tues.  As the bar closes the last stragglers of the night decide I'm coming with them to continue the jam session at someone's cabin 'close by' in the neighbouring community of Alta Vista.  The host is less thrilled that these strangers are descending upon his place, but doesn't object to me staying there.  Maybe I just look like a safe person, really I'm quiet and tired.  At the cabin I share my bannocks - I think the big Chesapeake dog is most keen on them - and there's a bit of music of songs I dislike anyway. I suppose they must think me very boring as I don't drink cold beer on a cold night, smoke pot, or play music really.  Eventually the guests drift off, the host (a down-to-earth Nova Scotian tradesman) tries to chat till 3:30am but we're both tired.  I get a couch though the cabin is old and cold, I sleep in my jacket.  Comfy enough.   

Day 7 - Wake at 7:30-8ish, breakfast is a bannock and an apple.  Watch some news on tv with my host, walk back to Whistler Village.  Nice walk along the Valley Trail, and only 1km, but damp and cold, with light rain/snow.  I'm getting tired of this, it's time to go home, and upon consulting a map I'm not very enthusiastic about walking (hitchhiking, but I must be prepared to walk the whole way if no one stops for me) from Whistler to Vancouver.  Head to the library, text a fella in Vancouver to see if he's up for a drive to Whistler, he'll come fetch me after the party tonight.  My host from Sat night found my shoes and came to the library to return them! Have tea, candy, bannock.  Clean up and head to conference center, wait in foyer with a few others till 6pm.  We get a crack at the leftover wine now, and foolishly I follow some ladies that grab an Australian Jacob's Crossing Moscato which is sweet and floral and lovely but throws off my palate for anything I taste after that.  Dinner is salad+shepherd's pie+lasagna, filling and warm.  I sample the following;
Sage Hill - Okanagan - Gewurztraminer
Chateau Baduc - Bordeaux Blanc - Sauvignon Blanc+Semillion
Matua - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
Campo Viejo - Rioja - Crianza
Calliope (Burrowing Owl) - Okanagan - Syrah+Merlot
Gaydd - France - Grenache
Desert Hills - Okanagan - Gamay
Maple Leaf Spirits - Pear Liquor
Matua Paretai Estate - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
900 Grapes - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
Joseph Mellot - Le Tronsec Pouilly-Fume - Sauvignon Blanc
Domaine de Chaberton - BC - Bacchus
Deinhard Piesporter - Mosel - Riesling
Fritz's Gunderloch - Germany - Reisling
Craggy Range - Hawkes' Bay, NZ - Bordeaux blend
I realize that as I select wines based on familiar varietals that I inadvertently choose some BC wines that I could easily get any other time, and I should really use this opportunity to focus on international wines.  I absentmindedly yet obsessively organize the bottles on the tables and cooler to help others find what they're looking for, and somehow become the consultant because I'm standing next to the table.  The evening degenerates into firing wine corks from empty water bottles.  They kick us out at 10pm, I skip the clubby afterparty because I can't taste anything anymore even if there were free drinks.  I sit on the steps and for the first time really enjoy the soft snowfall.  It's so much nicer when you know you're guaranteed someplace warm. 

Aside from the Greyhound ticket to get to Whistler, my total expenditures for the week was ~$3.  A lot of it is not exciting, it's observation and resourcefulness, flexible planning, and patience that most wouldn't bother with.  And a lot of luck and good people! I'm exhausted, less from lack-of-sleep than from just being in survival-mode for a week.  I'm glad I went, and think I'll try again next year, but now am glad for a rest and return to my friends and familiarity.    

Halloween follow-up (and what's with all the angels..?)

And with Halloween over I suppose I should've posted this sooner.
My plans to Trick-or-Eat fell through.  Some part of me suspected it would.  I juggled just-missed-it buses and got to the registration point at UBC a little late, found a bored night watchman who'd said the group left awhile ago - I suspect earlier than the latest posted time for registration.  With no one waiting, no one could assign me to my canvasing neighbourhood for charity food collection.  I wasn't really surprised, I had limited contact with this organized group and on top of that Mercury was retrograde, so communication+transportation are problematic. *sigh*
Perhaps if I had left my friend's house hours earlier, arrived earlier and milled aimlessly around a campus I don't belong to I'd have been on time.  But I didn't, so I wasn't.  I don't regret having a nice afternoon just for a potentially nice/productive evening. 
Perhaps it was just not meant to be.

Oddly enough I had found a U-pass on the ground at a bus stop only days before.  I was sorry for the person who'd lost it, since they'd paid for it and likely needed it for class, but as it expired at month's end it would make my bus travel free, if only for a few days.  The space that should've been filled with a name was blank.  Coincidence? Or Providence?
Odd when I fluke into good fortune like that, sometimes I swear it's the only thing keeping me alive.  I'm consciously aware and thankful for it, constantly.  I wondered that day as I kept walking, despite the found bus pass, how time and place are so decisive in our lives.  If I hadn't been walking that street on that day and looking down at that moment I would've never found it.  What else do I miss looking around or up, while I habitually look down on sidewalks and roads (for found treasure/jewelry/money, as well as not to trip)? What if this was a sign that I should get on the next bus immediately, before a baby grand piano drops on me a few blocks up the road??
And a bus passed me, with corny advertising on the side depicting a lightbulb with angel wings, speaking of their 'afterlife'.  Apparently they can be recycled now.

My costume for Halloween was an old standby for a few years now, black angel wings and cheap fuzzy halo.  I'd already decided that was optimal for me since I already had it and it's simple and unencumbering for whatever-it-is I'm doing.  So what am I doing for Halloween when plans fall through? Stop off at home to consult websites for spontaneous alternative plans, and grumble with a vodka cooler that sorta tasted like cough syrup, 'berry flavour' bleh, which followed me out the door - the cops aren't really going to pester an angel for drinking in public are they?! - as I hurried to the Skytrain station for a sort-of flashmob trainstuffing out to Richmond and back.  Why not? I've never done it before and have nothing else to do than get crammed in with strangers in costumes - a few more angels - and I had a U-pass that expires at midnight. 

It was hot like a metal concert, just goofy fun.  I didn't much feel like the clubby beat or 'dancing' of the afterparty, so I just walked up and down Granville Street and checked out all the clubbers' costumes.  Noted were the following; groups of prisoners (both the black+whited striped and orange jumpsuit variety), geishas, zombies of every kind, Bender+Calculon from Futurama, Marvin the Martian, Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man, Pillsbury Doughboy, and... a few more angels. The best group was the troupe of King Arthur and his knights from Monty Python's Holy Grail.  The knave carrying the luggage even had speakers on his back playing the musical score, and was clopping coconut shells.

I was hungry but couldn't justify making even a simple dinner at midnight, so I got cheapy pizza on Granville Street.  The first time I had cheapy pizza was with my brother when we were in Vancouver *unsupervised!*, I remember being suspicious about the sanitary conditions of the establishment.  Ah, if only 32-year-old me could chat with 12-year-old me! Alone in a busy crowd of pizza-eaters quietly minding their own business, I noticed a large tv on the back wall, showing what I gather was an intellectual documentary from History channel.  It was on mute and would've made a lot more sense with audio, otherwise it was just stills of famous artwork depicting... angels.  They found me even in a seedy pizza joint!

Halloween triple treat

With Halloween fast approaching I suppose I should've posted this sooner.
I know that Halloween is primarily celebrated in North America, and similar-yet-different to the Mexican Day of the Dead, and sorta translated/echoed in various forms in different countries via media and global cultural exchange.  So this is a post for the Vancouverites that are close enough to experience the following;

The Dunbar Haunted House - It started as a house in the Dunbar neighbourhood, an enthusiastic homeowner did his house up impressively and was quite a spectacle.  It grew from there and only the name reflects it's history - this year it's in a warehouse in Marpole.  They have a great collection of gruesome latex masks and mannequins grouped in themed displays - and between 7-midnight use real actors in costume to pop out at visitors, so I crept through carefully taking it all in, and predicting which is the 'real' one.  The theme was Terror Through History, my personal creepy highlights were the Inquisition, the Plague, and the environmental/medical mutant nightmare of the suggested future.  The lineup (it's popular, so get there early) is broken into groups of 3-4 to give you a friend or two to experience it with, but not enough to feel rushed like driven cattle.  The only hiccup is when a group moves too slow or too fast and the surprise is ruined before the actors return to their hiding spots.  Fantastic show, worth the $10 entry that goes to charity.  Please note this is the last year for it, so see it while you can!

Trick Or Eat - A great excuse for adults to get dressed up in costume and go door-to-door like a little kid again!  You know you're an adult when you have all the money and freedom to eat as much candy as you want at anytime, and yet you just crave an honest salad or piece of fruit. You know you don't _need_ the candy, you need real food, so that's what we're collecting is donations for the Food Bank.  I participated last year with a group that was well connected and organized and I had a fun time, things ran smoothly and we hung out at the organizer's house afterward.  This year is a bit trickier as I don't have that same group and thus had difficulty getting connected to strangers, since they assume everyone is linked via facebook.  As Halloween is not yet upon us to know how this will turn out, I will do my part and hope for the best.  I'd recommend this is a great idea if you can organize a group
of friends you know well who have your contact information easily. 

Parade of Lost Souls - Held at Britannia Community Center is where the hipsters and funky artists get together for art installations and performances.  I attended only as an afterthought after other daytime plans, so perhaps I missed most of it with the parade at 7pm, but at 9pm they were still making music on found percussion surfaces (tin cans, washtubs, cow bells, anything you can hit with a stick).  There were fire dancers, and the highlight for me was a Thriller dance on every few minutes - the Michael Jackson lead was spot-on.  Come in costume, it's a family event, community pride.

Thanksgiving in the Cariboo Chilcotin.

Ventured up to visit folks for Thanksgiving this past weekend (note for global readers, Canadian Thanksgiving falls in October to reflect our harvest time, and so it doesn't clash with Remembrance Day in November).  Stayed with a nice couple, with a very quiet son and a very licky puppy, and had a huge feast of traditional turkey, mashed potatos, gravy, stuffing, fresh bread, beans, carrots, corn, a lovely cranberry wine we'd brought from Nova Scotia, and lemon meringue pie for dessert.





Had a great time with good company, but the most memorable part for me was the drive - to, from, and around the Fraser canyon and the Cariboo Chilcotin Coast (though we didn't hit the Coast part).  Leaving the lush Pacific rainforest and exotic sakura trees in Vancouver, we find a different land in the interior canyons and plateau.  The green gave way to bright candy yellow birches along lakes and ponds.  The grasses were pale green, shocking yellow, tawny brown, dead-stick grey, and a silvery blonde that shone brilliantly in the direct sun, a contrast to the black cows grazing in the fields.  This is ranch country.

A daytrip to Junction Sheep Range Provincial Park; we didn't see any animals but the land was beautiful, and we were lucky to have a perfect blue sky.  Desert sagebrush and a few stubborn Douglas firs held the hillsides stable, more blonde grass covered the distant benches like velvet, and the slopes carved and fell into hoodoos and cliffs the ribbon road wove around.

A new scene around every hairpin turn, the soil itself a dull powder grey but sculpted into such forms as to make play of the strong desert light and shadow.  I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have to trek all the way to Alberta to see hoodoos (though I will - another trip for another time).  The Chilcotin River was turquoise here, fringed with yellow birches, standing out like a shock against the grey.

This is but a sample of my photos shown here, I don't take photos as often as some folks do but felt like capturing the moment.  'Twas a nice moment.  I'll revisit there someday, but know that one can never truly go back.

"No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man." - Heraclitus






We took the highway northeast to make good time, but chose the back roads to return home.  Good thing we had a map and GPS, and a fella who's been there before...
Alkali Lake is a native reserve community, we didn't see anyone there, and even the horses and dogs were quiet.  Peacefully quiet.  It was so quiet it was _silent_, rare even for nature.  One duck quacked.  One crow cawed.  The lake was mirror still and would've made a perfect picnic spot had it been further along our journey, but we still had a long way to go...



...of long looping stretches of gravel road, steep hill climbs and descents, golden velvet grassy benches (with the occasional tree), and barely any other cars around for miles.  We had run out of cow pastures awhile ago, though there were still fences lining the road perhaps for open range grazing...? Not a cow to be seen.  Just a vast expanse of dry hot land, populated with whatever organisms can eek out an existence here.

We meandered back to the Fraser canyon, the colors fading back into the muted grey and pale sage green, the river itself muddy brown. Looking back we could see the distance travelled over hours, was just over there on the horizon. We stopped on a little bridge that seemed to go nowhere other than the small community of Gang Ranch and its little airport.



Some other travellers that had passed us earlier were on that bridge, and informed us that the safety gate to the walkway underneath, undoubtedly intended only for maintenance use, had been left unlocked!  Thus down I went, tricky with a long scarf and camera in hand, just for the sake of saying I was there.  Who knows when I'll be out that way again? The catwalk was no more or less dummyproofed than the topside intended for traffic, and there was little to keep people from falling or jumping into the quiet-yet-fast Fraser below. 
Clearly I did neither, and instead we carried on down the road in search of a picnic spot for a late lunch, on through miles till it was decided that any patch of desert will do.  Sandwiches, meat+cheese+crackers, trail mix and a fresh apple each.  In the time it took to have lunch only one car passed.  Again the silence.  Thankfully no rattlesnakes.

We had spent most of the day weaving around this desert canyon travelling not very far or fast, so while we continued on the gravel backroads we dawdled less.  We were losing daylight too.  The land changed as we headed south - patches of young trees in formerly logged areas or under power lines, mixed forest, buildings, cows - and climbed in elevation where *gasp!* there was snow on the ground.  Getting cold, time to put the top up on the convertible.  Crept up a 14% grade logging road, all hairpin turns and blind corners, and thankfully no logging truck hurtling towards us in the opposite direction.  Thankful for pavement finally in Pavilion.  Reached the highway in Lillooet around the same time the fading daylight made photography not worthwhile, early sunset in a steep-walled canyon.  Carried into more familiar mountainous land along Duffy Rd, the evergreen forest even darker in dusk.  Lost the last light of day shining pink off the snowy peak just beyond Pemberton.  Someday we'll take the trip up again in daylight, though I was thankful enough for the warm car to get us home safely.     

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!



Tasty treasures from Nova Scotia

Two weeks in Nova Scotia was a whirlwind of visiting people.  These folks are so friendly you can't be in their neck of the woods without dropping by, or they'll get offended that you missed them.  Crossed the width of the province several times, which is thankfully only an hour's drive and is unfathomable for a westerner like me! We try to explore a bit, beyond people's kitchens and living rooms, so featured here are some gems I found;

First off I'll commend the organization of the good folks in Freeport/Westport, NS.  Two remote towns with a ferry between them, they're either really well-trained to the flux and disorientation of tourists, or are just naturally super-helpful! The goto spot for grub in Freeport, especially seafood chowder, is Lavena's Catch Café.  I'll add my support to the voice of all the other positive reviews online! On the recommendation of locals in another town we just mentioned to our hostess that we needed to catch the last ferry to Westport, and she assured us we'd be fine - indeed our food was served timely, as well as a generous portion and delicious quality.  The ambience is casual and family-friendly, with Trivial Pursuit available while you're waiting.  Tender scallops and haddock, creamy chunky chowder, both paired nicely with the Jost Chablis.  We saved room for peanut butter pie for dessert.  At the end of our meal our hostess volunteered the café phone to call the hostel in Westport and confirm we're still taking a room there. 
Onto the ferry next, the operators were patient and welcoming, no worries. 
And the hostel owner waited up for us and our arrival after the office closed, no problem, we'll trust you settle the bill in the morning.  It turned out we had the whole space to ourselves after the holiday long weekend, and though we just needed a bed to crash and sleep overnight the hostel looks like a comfy place to stay awhile; two showers (one toilet), and a communal lounge and kitchen facilities.  An unobstructed view on a clear day, and a great view of the fog when we were there that makes me want to snuggle into the couch with a cuppa tea and just be warm and quiet with the cold outside.

Back on the topic of seafood, I made it my mission to have seafood everyday there! Nova Scotia's pride is scallops and lobsters, and I enjoyed several meals of baked scallops, lobster rolls, and chowder.  I think my favorite scallops were at the Seaside Shanty in Chester Basin; just a small appy but done in a fabulous tarragon sauce that needed to be sopped up with bread so as not to waste it after the scallops were devoured.  I am reminded that I should have/use tarragon more often, because whenever I do I love it. 

The pursuit of seafood wasn't limited to fine dining; I got a McLobster from McDonalds which I still consider regional cuisine! I had clams+chips from several places including a food truck.  I had salmon+capers+onions+cream cheese in wraps and bagels for breakfast and lunch, great portable food for exploring and road trips.  A friend's kids caught some bass in the Mersey river (okay, technically not SEAfood? but I gutted them myself and we grilled it up on the barbecue just fine).  I had lobster+shrimp sushi (debatably Nova Scotians refer to both shrimp and prawns as simply 'shrimp').   

Hit the Blue Olive Greek Taverna for kalamari.  For the longest time I didn't like Greek food as I'm not particularly a fan of olives or feta cheese, which seems to be found in every dish, and yet I like this.  The Greek salad was perfect for me; refreshingly not drowned in oily dressing, the feta crumbled like snow on top.  Two olives perched atop like bird's eggs, thus easily flicked across the table at my date *pfshewm!* [insert childish projectile-firing noise here].  The tzatziki dip was fantastic and had a spicy zing that held its own - nothing worse than a wimpy dip.  It carried itself well with the strong pine-resin retsina wine, which is a fun try for an adventurous palate.  My compliments to the chef, and I will make a point to visit whenever I'm there.

I'd be amiss if I didn't highlight a winery here, no? Try Annapolis Highland Vineyards near Bear River, gotta get off the main highway but well worth the detour.  Not only is the product fine, but the staff are friendly and informative of their wine and business, and the area in general - props to Brendan who steered us to the aforementioned Lavena's Catch Café.  A thorough tasting of their menu leaves me liking both reds and whites, some varietals I've never heard of, blends are thoughtful and we got three bottles. 

A great meal I was glad to be in time for this year was the Heritage Blueberry Festival at the Parkdale/Maplewood Community Museum.  This is just the sort of one-offs I love to stumble into on my travels.  A small yet popular event, as well as admission into the museum that showcases the town's history we browse through the local crafts and swap meet, and enjoy a huge and delicious meal of regional specialties: Lunenburg sausage, sauerkraut (can you tell the German roots here?), pudding (as in, European blood sausage, not the butterscotch/chocolate dessert we know in North America), soloman gundy (pickled herring), smeltz potato and hodge podge (mashed potatos deluxe), sauerkraut salad (sweeter, and my favorite on my plate), sweet pickles and pickled beets.  Homemade bread. Coffee+tea. Dessert was either (or both!) blueberry pie or blueberry grunt, a sort of steamed dumpling, using low-bush blueberries that are tiny but flavourful. 

Wildlife charities need your support!

Recently I had the opportunity to visit two wildlife charities on opposite ends of the country.  Both participated in Jamieson Vitamin's Call for the Wild campaign to distribute $100,000 to wildlife charities across Canada, thus both held their open house to drum up support for their cause.  While the voting for the contest is now closed, it's important to acknowledge their amazing efforts year round.

The Vancouver Aquarium Marine Mammal Rescue Center is quietly tucked away among the shipping yards of Coal Harbour in Vancouver.  I've noticed that some organizations here that deal with rescued animals typically prefer to keep a low profile, lest the vocal anti-captivity protesters both harass the volunteer staff and stress the recovering animals, thus the rescue center itself is a working facility that does not entertain visitors - save for its invitation-only open house.  Most of the patients there are orphaned harbour seal pups, whose stay average two months till they are nursed up to weight and display an ability to catch their own fish.  Feeding was quite a noisy trial as seal pups don't take an artificial teat and are fed a deliciously viscous paste of formula and fish oil pumped through a tube and syringe, and it takes two volunteers to administer this.  This year was a 'quieter' year, as they had only 45 down from the approx 150 that came through their doors last year.  After meeting each pup, we decided to sponsor a little lady named Sunflower (this year they were named after astronomical bodies) who was very chatty and decidedly the most engaging.  If you've never heard a seal bark, they sound a bit like E.T. and I could've sworn she was trying to mimic our 'hello'... The staff were helpful in answering questions, and we finished with complimentary ice cream with sprinkles! 

Far from low profile is Hope For Wildlife in Seaforth, Nova Scotia - indeed they have their own tv show shown in several channels and countries, as well as allow tours upon email request including group presentations and birthday parties.  This open house was like a community block party, with other guests bringing their animals to showcase and educate the masses - this year we saw the police K9 unit, a woman with her pet pygmy goats, a 'pirate' and her parrot, and a zoo worker with an alligator.  Do not pet the alligator.  Saw the resident mascots Oliver the one-eyed owl and Maxwell the three-legged skunk.  Hope for Wildlife has fantastic facilities that keep growing, including a space for deer (closed to public, as the young imprint too easily), a flight cage for raptors, a nursery, and a new marine pool holding two seals as of August - as well as the gazebo hosting music acts, the learning center and gift shop for humans.  Been there, done that, got the T-shirt; it was pointed out to me that when worn with an open zip-up sweater the breast logo reads "HO FOR WILD", which was a laugh but I'd gladly advertise on my body.  We bought our $3 hamburgers for lunch to support the cause and enjoyed the free cotton candy and Timbits+coffee, browsed the bake sale goodies, silent auction goods and animal-themed artwork on display.  I could spend hours there just reading every sign, well done!   

Pit For Your Supper

A great initiative from the folks at Heather Hospitality; Pit For Your Supper.  Volunteers get a free beer and meal in exchange for their time pitting and coring fruit for numerous coulis, sauces, jellies and even beers served/sold in the Heather Hospitality businesses in Vancouver's historic Gastown. 

I had just heard about this last year and luckily found a spot for the last one of the season.  I found a seat in the middle of a table so long that I couldn't even holler to the folks at each end.  We were issued a cutting board and paring knife, and shared buckets full of fruit and yet-empty of cores.  I marvelled that they would issue knives to strangers without signing a waiver and trusted we don't stab ourselves or each other.  The theme for this session was apples, and we appled and appled until we reached the end of our apples - then the staff brought out pears to round out our hour (or was it two?) of labour.  I had a great conversation with the couple seated next to me, and was spurred to work faster by the fella two seats down who was racing through the apples in front of him.  I would've lost all track of time had the staff not cleared our table.  Our beer was the Fat Tug IPA and our dinner was pork loin with an apricot coulis (probably the previous volunteers' project), potato salad and coleslaw.

This year the venue changed and we were divided up into smaller tables.  Personally I preferred the long table, but here had more space to move around and fetch our own fruit from the stack of boxes in the center of the room.  I'm sure it made it easier on the staff.  Our theme was peaches, which were easier or harder to pit depending on the ripeness of each - the firm ones chipped apart in shards almost, and the soft ones just smunched in my hands.  Good thing they weren't focused on presentation, the fruit's getting pureed anyway.  I think we finished all the fruit they'd provided in just over an hour, and patiently anticipated dinner.  Our beer was the Blood Alley Bitter and my dinner was beef brisket (everyone else got pork tenderloin? I suppose they just ran out in the kitchen, no worries, it was fantastic) with roasted red pepper coulis and red wine au jus, and a slice each of zucchini, bell pepper, and golden beet.

I think this is a creative initiative that benefits both owners and guests.  The restaurants get publicity through word of mouth, and our labour cost is essentially the cost of ingredients used in our meals, which is likely whatever tail-end remnants they want to finish up in the kitchen and beers they want to rotate on tap.  Guests get to a free beer+artfully crafted meal, and the opportunity to work together with strangers at a common task which is a great way to meet new people and spark conversation.  As this explodes in popularity it's getting more difficult to grab a seat on the guest list.

Gibsons is growing up

I sailed away to Gibsons for a holiday weekend, having not been there for several months and finally affording the time for a more thorough exploration of the town.  It's really almost two towns, the newer big chain stores and businesses on the hill that arguably keep the town running for residents, and the older Gibson's Landing down the hill on the waterfront that draw in the tourists with artsie boutique shops and a variety of restaurants.  The houses there are a hodgepodge collection of ages and styles that suggest that neighbours aren't as caught up in the trappings of measurable curb appeal as us city rats.  One of my favorite properties has a fence made of wonky driftwood logs and planks, another is a jungle of bamboo peppered with mosaic installations.

Passing development proposal signs and a garage sale, I discover that these properties have been bought out and sections of this waterfront are going to be a several-storey convention center and condos.  Some residents lament the loss of the area's charm, which frankly I thought was drawing the tourists and thus bolstering the economy, but the new multi-use buildings will make it a 'destination' to bring in investors and other supporting businesses.  Apparently the town "needs the money".  Pity the cost of progress. 

So get while the getting's good before it's ruined! Their landmark restaurant Molly's Reach wouldn't dare be jeopardized as it's world famous from the long-running Canadian TV series The Beachcombers.  They serve an eggs benny made of crab cakes, so I try to catch that whenever I'm over that way.  Also on my list is Smitty's Oyster House; this particular weekend they were fully booked up for a private function.  Reservations suggested.  A meal of oysters+chardonnay is seldom cheap anywhere (unless you have a DIY source for fresh shellfish and home brew perhaps? If so, give me a call...!), so this is a personal indulgence that is part of the 'destination' of Gibsons.  Disappointed yet determined for oysters, a 360-degree spin from class and sophistication found what what the Brits affectionately refer to as a "chippy" - Codfathers.  Tiny hole in the wall that piqued my interest during a stroll that afternoon, I ordered their Sin Burger that was today's special; salmon served in a bannock, served with candied salmon cornbread fritters with maple syrup.  Most of the components of this meal were deep-fried.  Got breaded oysters too, huzzah! I'd pair with beer rather than wine, but they had no liquor licence and I had pop instead, fine, there is a simple pleasure of sugar and fizz on a hot sunny summer evening.  I had already had ice cream that afternoon at Mike's Place, and was impressed with the three counters of gelato to choose from.  I chose the 7th Heaven that had everything good in it including cheesecake chunks, pistachios, dark chocolate, and ginger.  Excellent!

The icing on the cake, so to speak, was the free outdoor music offered that weekend and indeed most of the summer.  I caught it first on Saturday evening as the CDs I was listening to were drowned out by the siren call of a bluesy harmonica wafting across the harbour.  A concert already in progress is motivation enough to pile dirty dinner dishes in the sink for later and run to catch the show! I caught just the last two songs, and enjoyed both the quality of the music and the vibe of the audience so chill and supportive.  Sunday afternoon showcased a violin and keyboard/accordion duo at the tiny farmer's market.  They lent a distinctive French flavour that would suit a chocolate croissant.

Farewell, Minter Gardens

It's too bad the Minter Gardens are closing in October.  I felt this was one of the nicest attractions out in the Fraser Valley,  though far enough away (Chilliwack) that I suppose it wasn't financially viable anymore. Taking a sunny Sunday I felt I'd take the opportunity to visit one last time, and encourage others to do so.  Adult admission is $20 but one can enjoy a leisurely full day there, with an elegant restaurant and café and a network of trails over 13 acres. 

Following the main garden path has thoughtful details around every corner through sculpture and arrangement; topiaries and water features and organized flower beds.  Most of the bulb flowers and vines were finished blooming, and late July's colors featured astilbe, begonias, marigolds, dusty miller, osteospermum, geraniums, dahlias, alyssum, and some late roses. 

A surprise was a demonstration from Cinemazoo and the Urban Reptile Rescue, who brought little friends in tubs and cages and let the crowd handle them.  I got a boa constrictor draped on me, held a bearded dragon, and pet a tagu and a tortoise that were lounging on the path.  The facilitators were very informative, and it was a great opportunity for everyone.

After a picnic outside we returned to find the outer path was closed due to a bear sighting in the area (!), so we had pretty much explored every corner that we could.  I had noticed throughout the day that there seemed few birds around, but it was just when I was still enough settling on the well-manicured lawn that I caught the flash of yellow tails over a pond fountain - the cedar waxwings' acrobatic flycatching was a calming dance to watch, what a way to spend a summer afternoon!    

New flavours

My summer so far has been fairly engaging; according to a friend we've had hot sunshine for 27 days straight and I think it's affecting everyone's overall outlook and demeanour (including my own). Talking to strangers and trying new things - less of an adventure per se, but a break from routine or the introspection of January.  Now is the time for external stimuli!

Going for ice cream with a friend, I know he loves Tiger but I was never a fan of black liquorice as a kid (perhaps the orange and black swirl together to make an unappetizing mud-color?), so I decided it's time to revisit Tiger with an adult perspective, the verdict being that that the mild spice compliments the sweet fruitiness of the orange in a way that works for me.  I've had a tea like this as well that is both uplifting with the citrus and a digestive aid with the carminative anise.  Thumbs up for Tiger! And while I'm on the subject of ice cream I'll plug La Casa Gelato, the best place I know for ice cream in Vancouver, just for the sheer selection of flavors - Italian, Asian, and bizarre creations.  A bit expensive for a regular visit but an enjoyable treat, and you get to sample any flavour before you buy, so that can take awhile of flitting back and forth along the counter like a butterfly.

Dinner with another friend found us with tzatziki dip on everything - that was both salad dressing and steak sauce.  The salad I could have guessed, being creamy+dill over vegetables, but I was skeptical that the dip wouldn't be lost on a typical barbecued beef steak.  It was a pleasant surprise, so I'll keep in in mind as yet another option for steak treatment.  You never know unless you try!

The CBC radio station in Vancouver continues its free Musical Nooners concert series on the patch of fresh lawn outside the station right downtown, a welcome break for office workers to take their lunch al fresco and enjoy a show.  Again, it's a great variety of styles and tastes that one may typically not gravitate to or even considered, but an opportunity to try it.  Quiet singer perched on a stool strumming a guitar, raucous Latin salsa, maybe klezmer/polka?? All accessible for families and inoffensive to common sensibilities (does that rule out rap and metal?) I've caught a few shows so far this season, they were well presented and played.

Digging in the dirt

Earlier this month I found a great opportunity to volunteer with Fresh Roots Urban Farm to set up a farm garden on what I believe is technically the school grounds that is now opened up to the community as a multi-use space (an off-leash dog area, and now a food producing garden.  With no fences separating the two thusfar, I assume that dogs fouling on the veggies won't be a major concern.  We've painted plenty of  'Please clean up after your dog' signs, and trust that common sense and social responsibility will prevail), as well as an outdoor classroom for the students to visit. 

The planting, maintenance, harvest, and sale of the crops will be managed by the Fresh Roots farmers, so really our work that weekend was mostly moving earth.  Giant piles of earth wheelbarrowed, shovelled, and raked into orderly foot-high rows.  I spent an afternoon on Saturday and a full day on a Tuesday with a great mix of parents teaching their kids, office professionals teambuilding, university/college students applying their biology program education, and earthy hipsters not afraid to get dirty.  I would definitely be up for doing this again in the future.
 
This involved some of my favorite things;
- community involvement for a worthwhile cause I support.
- contribution to a group project with pleasant friendly people.
- digging in smelly, honest earth. AKA gardening.
- the fresh air and sunshine (thankfully it wasn't raining, or my post about digging in mud would have a very different tone).

Wines of Keremeos and Cawston

A long weekend expedition to the Okanagan typically brings me past the small towns of Keremeos and Cawston following the main highway as it snakes along the Similkameen valley between the river and the steep hills, and I've been meaning to stop and explore the wineries there.  While the Okanagan has been feverishly ripping up established orchards to plant vineyards instead, the Similkameen towns embrace their fruity heritage and there seems to be more of a balance of fruit stands and wineries, including a fruit winery of course.  The wineries pride themselves on being small family-run operations, and you can't guarantee to find these labels outside of the VQA or private wine merchants.  I prefer these small yield wines, it feels like more of a rare treat than whatever the 'house wine' is at a given restaurant.  It's a great excuse to purchase straight for the source and speak with the knowledgeable producers about their product, region, and history.

First stop was not a good start for wine tasting; they were a new winery that had just opened up, the tasting room smelled very strongly of.. building/finishing/cleaning materials? Not good.  And the wines were very young.  Perhaps I'll try them again in a few seasons, once they get settled a bit. 

Next up was Robin Ridge, and a much better presentation with the friendly family patriarch.  Their Gewurztraminer was drier than I prefer but held the aromatic notes I love best.  I was glad to see a straight Gamay too.  Most noteworthy was the rose "Flamingo" made from a table varietal, an easy and accessible fruitiness that reminded me of a wine made from Concord grapes I had several years ago, and I am glad to support winemakers bending the rules of tradition. 

Taking a wrong turn while searching for one winery lead me to Herder; snug against the hillside was a gorgeous and spacious Mediterranean-style building, with the great potential to be a B&B or host receptions.  Only sampling three wines, "Three Sisters" had a fine balance of Pinot Gris' crisp acidity, Chardonnay's smoothness, and Viognier's nose.  

The right turn found Clos du Soleil; wines done in the Bordeaux style.  Their white focused on Sauvignon Blanc tempered with a bit of Semillon, and I was glad to have a fresh clean white that walks the line without being too acidic, sweet, or oaked.  I am increasingly a fan of the pliable Sauv Blanc and its versatility with meal pairings.  Fume Blanc caught my attention here.  Tried two reds; the harvest had produced poor Cabernet Franc that year, and one blend included their contribution for the sake of French tradition, while the other excluded it for the sake of taste - the difference was definitely noticeable.  I'll stick with their whites. 

Just down the street (and in the next town of Cawston, organic capital of BC) was the Orofino strawbale winery.  This one gets top marks in all regards, and I count this as my best new find of this trip! The presenter was a wealth of information about the wines, winery, history and geography of the region, and could juggle several customers and their tastings and questions with apparent ease.  The wines were fantastic and I would've been fine with bringing home anything from their menu, including the Chardonnay - I will enjoy an aromatic Moscato frizzante for New Year's.  Their building is a strawbale construction that is both ecologically friendly and educational, having been built by 22 people in a 5 day workshop that I would've loved to been part of.  On top of all that, they have an old dog that want you to throw his slobbery ball for him to fetch.

Seven Stones winery was next, the wine presentation from the winemaker himself who could answer well any questions and included a free tour of the new "caves" he's building; an excavation part for the cellaring of wine but also to house the 'library' of collectable vintages and a banquet hall for special events.  I enjoyed most of the samples and was pleasantly surprised by the Merlot, as something different than the rounder juicier norm.  Those that have sampled wines with me before may have heard me express my personification of each varietal's typical characteristics, and for me Merlot is a large-bosomed aunt that demands a big hug, likely wearing faux flowers and chunky beaded jewelry.  Now the tasting notes on the "Row 128" suggested olive and leather, and intrigued I found quite a different experience with this perennial favorite, less of the berries and more robust and borderline masculine even.  As if dear auntie just beat me at arm wrestling.

Last stop for the afternoon (or was it evening...?) before I completely fall over was Forbidden Fruit winery, the aforementioned fruit-focused winery.  I enjoyed a Sauvignon Blanc/Vidal blend "Sauvidal" and an apple dessert wine "Pomme Desiree" that had the sense (scents) of apple pie, that would either pair with that or replace it entirely.  I think this'll be passed around for Thanksgiving, if it lasts that long.  The last sample was the port-style "Cerise D'Eve" cherry wine.  I wouldn't say I'm a big fan of cherries in general, but this was nice and will be fine with a nip of dark chocolate.  Tasting fee was a suggested donation of $3 and went to a local environmental program.

Strolling the gardens - Van Dusen and Blodel Conservatory

This is precisely why I don't keep a diary/journal - I've been busy sure enough, but had little time to sit in front of a computer and record it.  So much for a semi-New Year's resolution!

Busy enough enjoying the sunshine and various gardens coming into bloom beyond just the early bulbs.  The growing season flashes by if you don't take the time to notice it.  A metaphor for life, I suppose.  I remember when a schoolyear felt so long and we had little photocopied calendars we were instructed to cross the days off on, to learn to tell the current date.   Now we measure time in semesters, several-year programs, or decades.  I'm not morose about feeling older, just noticing.  To everything there is a season; snowdrops, crocus, hyacinth, narcissus, daffodils, and now the tulips are fading.  The plum and cherry blossoms came and went quickly this year, in my opinion.

I attended the annual plant sale at the Van Dusen Botanical Gardens.  While it is staffed by volunteers and is a fantastic operation I'd support and promote, I still jump at the chance to skip admission fees.  Blessed with a beautiful sunny day, the place was packed and by the time I got there the hardcore gardeners had picked over what I had been mildly considering shopping for - no worries, I can find them easily at other garden shops, I just like to explore odd varietals and browse what's offered -  and the lineups for the checkout stand were so long I was not inclined to wait that long for a whimsical purchase.  I did however speak with the volunteers that were very welcoming, eager, and informative.  Listened to an urban beekeeper talk about his bees too. 

Breaking free from the crowds I spent a couple of hours wandering around the gardens.  Rhododendrons, azaleas, and camillas were out, the colors mainly greens and purples.  Lovely day for a picnic, if I hadn't already been full from breakfast. 

Definitely a top-notch presentation and one of my favorite Vancouver attractions.  The Van Dusen Gardens have a focus on education and the preservation of both biological specimens and the history and heritage associated with them, since many were donated as goodwill gifts from other countries.

Next up was a visit to the Bloedel Conservatory in Queen Elizabeth Park, a tiny jewel in southern Vancouver surrounded by neighbourhoods with houses and yards even! Easy enough to find following Cambie St, I instead meandered up Columbia St and found the Most Beautiful Block 1999-2001 - how else would you know about these things unless you stumbled upon them?  Such discoveries are a pleasant surprise, complete with neighbourhood coffee shop The Mighty Oak that I'll venture out to sometime.  Beautiful houses, no traffic. 

What used to be an old quarry for the railway is now well-manicured lawns and gardens with rolling pathways, topped with a tropical sanctuary in a geodesic dome.  Many of the plants there I recognized as fairly common "indoor" plants; snakeplants, kalanchoe, orchids, and cacti. Some of the larger specimens include fig, papaya, coffee and a variety of palm trees.  The greatest feature for me were the birds, a few also common and recognizable as pets such as the budgies, parrots, and macaws (who quite possibly were previously pets donated to the conservatory).  The space itself is quite small and can be 'done' in an hour, and was quite busy on the day I visited.

Both the Van Dusen gardens and Bloedel Conservatory are situated near fine dining restaurants, Shaughnessy Restaurant and Seasons in the Park respectively.  Both locations are popular spots for weddings, graduation parties, or any other cause for large gatherings and/or professional photos.

Cycling Barnston Island

A sunny Saturday after my birthday - I felt the same quiet vibe I did on New Year's Day, and I was almost inclined to make new year's resolutions if I were ever inclined to such things.  

Perhaps it was an effect of the land - on the To Do list of daytrip destinations was Barnston Island.  A remote island community in the Fraser River that doesn't seem to be maintained by any city municipality and is only accessible by a small shuttling ferry service (it's free!).  No public parking, no shops or services, just agricultural land and a tiny tip of park.  The land time forgot (we have a few places like that around Vancouver if you know where to look).  Parking the car and taking the foldable bikes over on the ferry, it was an easy ride along the flat dyke road, though varying pavement quality kept us alert and in the present moment.  Very little traffic.  I noticed there was surprisingly little birdsong in the fringe of forest surrounding the island, perhaps partially attributed to eagles in the taller trees.  Private residences were characterized by lazy dogs in the driveway who barely stirred as we passed, and we saw a few houses with smashed windows engulfed by blackberry bushes that I suspect were abandoned when the native land lease expired, a common building-killer in our area. 

 

Rest stop #1 found us on the southeast point, a sandy beach perfect for a picnic.  Despite being on the busy Fraser shipping channel with freight and logs being shuttled around it was very peaceful.  The cars on the distant Golden Ears bridge milled on like tiny ants.  The point was big enough to support several groups of visitors while allowing us our privacy.  Kids were happy playing at the waters edge while parents urged them not to get muddy.  ATV parked on the beach with a low beachfire.  We watched planes coming and going from Pitt Meadows airport.  Life is good. 

Back on the road saw small yet well maintained farms, a cranberry field, cows, horses, sheep, some mules and llamas.  Visitors congregated at the park at the northwest tip, smaller and thus less private than the first rest stop but more developed with fences, park benches and trash cans.  A short jaunt down the road completed our circuit back at the ferry dock.  That was several hours leisurely well spent, good simple fun and exercise.  I recommend this to anyone looking for an accessible sunny day escape from the city.

Vancouver International Wine Festival

I returned for round two of volunteering on the pouring team for the Vancouver International Wine Festival (formerly the Vancouver Playhouse Wine Festival, but have switched sponsorship to the Bard on the Beach since the Playhouse closed). 

In previous years I've anticipated attending an annual dinner as they're always well put on - fine dining establishments I otherwise wouldn't splurge to visit save for special occasions, professional service and presentation, and introductions/explanations from both wine maker and head chef about why they did what they did to compose our well crafted several-course meal.  Definitely an experience I'd recommend to anyone looking for ritzy evening date during the course of the week-long festival.  Past outings included the Hart House, C Restaurant, Bridges, and Fraiche.

This year a rise in ticket prices coupled with an opportunity to be more involved lead me to skip the dinners and focus on the seminars, and just as last year I had a fantastic time.  A mere four hours of volunteer time grants us entry to the tasting room - a seeming expo of wines to sample, this year offered 763 wines - but beyond the perks to imbibe is more importantly the fun experience; the chance to network and learn some details of the trade from the winemakers and distributors, listen in on the seminars if there's unused seats, easy tasks that contribute to the overall smooth function of the events and the pride of a job well done, a well-managed team with a positive vibe, and an excuse to wear a short black skirt.  We are the elite hand-picked crew commonly mistaken for professionals.  This is a great gig to get into if you can, I look forward to participating again next year.

First colors of spring!

The iris was the first bulb on my balcony to bloom, a pleasant surprise since the bulbs were so shriveled from storage.

This hardy rosebud started last summer and survived the winter, just opening with the sun of Feb.  I rescued the rosebush from a dumpster two years ago.