For Theodora

My friend's rabbit died on Sunday.
Rabbits will hide injuries or illness well, and she outwardly seemed fine when I saw her just last week.  We'd had a similar scare last year, the vet diagnosed a gastrointestinal blockage and we gave her intensive medicine and closely monitored her diet thereafter.  We sensed then that she had a very sensitive constitution.
Reports from friends say she stopped eating Saturday afternoon, stopped drinking in the wee hours of Sunday, and was in swift decline by the time he got her to the veterinary clinic Sunday morning.  She was gone in 15 minutes.  I pray she did not suffer and wasn't afraid to pass on.  Perhaps she was glad to surrender her weak body.  I'm glad she got to spend her last night with the man she loved, who loved her very much.
Theodora was a good bunny.  She kept the housekeeping as any doe maintains her warren, studiously nibbling electrical cords she perceives are invasive vines or roots that if left unchecked will grow to bring down the house.  She was our night sentry, guarding us as we slept and monitoring our trips to the washroom.  She grew accustomed to running on hardwood and tile floors and we could hear this tiny bunny galloping from room to room.  She joined us for meals to eat as family, and was ever-enthusiastic for her morning piece of banana.  She was curious, intelligent, opinionated, and very expressive.  She will be greatly missed by all who knew her.

Stillness, yet restless.

This will be a brief, simple post.  Just to say I've done it.  I've successfully kept up my new year's resolution from two years ago, to post at least once a month.  I suppose I *do* more, and more *happens* to me than I report here in cyberspace for my tiny readership, but only some details do I feel particularly noteworthy.
Now is another strange quiet-time.  Perhaps because the weather's turned damp and grey, though I can't complain since we had such an unexpectedly beautiful November last year.  Or maybe it's just the lull after the Christmas holidays.  Christmas was quiet with my parents, I'm glad to visit them and sad to leave, no matter how long I stay for.  I've had a few emails from those that float in the periphery, pleasant shadows from my past that thought of me long enough to send a note.  Some of my online friends are busy or otherwise have disappeared, and I do miss them a bit.  People in my life are gearing up their plans for the upcoming year, as am I, yet it seems like the drifting away (even temporarily) is more noticeable lately.
To those that I love, I hope you know that I love you.

The next exciting plan to look forward to is my trip to Mexico to see the Monarch migration.  I've purchased my plane tickets now, dates are set Feb 16-Mar 4, so now I'm going come hell or high water.  I've had an overall great time on my last excursions, and am with practice and discipline becoming a more savvy traveller, comfortable with what I am capable of and accepting that I'll get out of it whatever I put into it.  There is a fine line between planning and spontaneity; I still have some research to do and will try to contact some locals down there, but won't overthink it too much till I'm there.
Being alone seems the most non-confrontational way to make my own decisions without it conflicting with others' plans, or stepping on their toes - if I really want it done I will do it myself, or else I can't be surprised when plans don't come to fruition.  My new year's resolution is not as obvious as it has been in the past few years, this year is more to simply do what I want to do.  It's less a matter of selfishness (at least that I'm consciously aware of), it's about preserving some level of pride and autonomy and self-reliance so I'm not constantly swept along with the group or what someone else assumes I'm fine with.  So I can experience/produce something in my life, and feel like I'm not just treading water.

GeoQuest of Richmond

While waiting to meet up with a friend of mine after her various appointments, I was geocaching around her (and what used to be my) neighbourhood of Marpole.  Wandering over the cyclist-tolerant-but-intended-for-cars bridge to Sea Island, I found a cache with a peculiar prefix in its title - CoRGQ - and that evening I checked online to find it was part of a series planted around our neighbouring city of Richmond: 
Each cache container has a secret word, collect all 30 words from the 30 caches around the city in a passport that can be turned into the Nature Center for a limited edition geocoin! While supplies last!
Now those that know me know that even silly little tokens can be a great motivation for me to try, with all my drive and stubbornness and dedication and effort.  I really don't need another awarded _thing_ in my life, to clean or keep or lose, nor even the bragging rights that I've completed a task however great or small.  I suppose it's just a knee-jerk compulsion to rise to a challenge.  A quest! Worse yet was that I'd found out about it about two weeks after these caches were published, and hardcore cachers had likely been on this same quest for MY geocoin with a two week headstart! I emailed the organizer and asked how many had been minted and how many were still available.  Overnight came the response; 150 made, 30 remained.  Hence the added element of urgency!

Good thing I didn't have much else planned that weekend.  Friday found me up in the wee hours and on a Skytrain around dawn with a small bicycle, kicking myself for not getting up even earlier.  I quickly found two in the center of town and got back to the Skytrain to use the same fare transfer back to the start of the western dyke trail, and was cycling from 8am to 6pm - haven't cycled in awhile, my ass was still sore a day or two later.  Sat morning I got a ride to a few remote ones in the east and we searched again a few I didn't find the day before.  Then I kept walking, getting the central urban ones alone.  Sunday was finishing up the last 6 on foot, spread out and thus less searching and more walking.  Most were easy, some were clever/tricky, and I found my first floating cache: a piece of vertical pipe sealed off on one end with a slow drip hole, you have to BYO water and fill it faster than it can drain, and grab the watertight cache quick before it disappears again.  Plenty of opportunity to be resourceful - I had no water or vessel to carry it, but found a used Slurpee cup on the side of the highway, and a plastic baggie+hair elastic in my purse to temporarily seal the drain and buy more time.  Worked fine, yay!

Beautifully clear but cold, it was okay as long as I kept moving but waiting for bus I noticed the cold more.  I enjoyed the frosty parks most of which I've never been to, found a few I'd like to revisit in the spring or summer growing season.  Saw the great congregation of snow geese in a grass field.  People along the trails were friendly.

My phone finally ran out of the prepaid account I purchased in June - of course while I was in a forest at dusk, wearing a furry hat which the young barred owls would love to swoop at - so I know now that with conservative use $25 will last from Jun till Nov.  Now I put $50 on it, good till Nov next year. 

When I turned in my completed passport at the nature center I chat with the guy who started the project, and I watched the songbirds and squirrels at the seed feeding station in the cold evening.  They all knew to leave with the light, before the owls start hunting.  I was the last to leave the park.  Got my Geocoin... now I'm hesitant to release it to travel because I know I spent so much time and effort to get it.

Amidst all this was my friend's goodbye party(s) and the civic elections.  Now I can resume real life, and on with Christmas preparations.

Lest we forget

Remembrance Day in Vancouver, indeed observances all across Canada, was especially well attended this year in light of the cowardly shooting of a soldier guarding the war memorial in Ottawa in late October.  The legion was flooded with requests for their poppy pins earlier than the launch of the fundraising campaign.  For weeks there was overall a sense of pride and resilience, akin to the British 'stiff upper lip'.
The weather was clear and bright that morning, and as I watched the marching military procession I felt sober yet light just by listening to the choirs sing.  The maple keys gently twirling down among the crowd were a whimsical contrast to a grim poem about mustard gas.  The ceremonial artillery fire spooked the confused flock of pigeons that moved as a unit among the stylish old heritage buildings in Gastown.  The prayer was thoughtful and moving though seemed rushed to keep schedule with the flyby planes already in the air.  To top it off Christopher Gaze, of Bard on the Beach fame, read a Robert Service poem about the war with such amazing delivery it reverently hushed the crowd.
Later I happened to notice the marquis sign for a church in my neighborhood announcing a Chor Leoni concert for that evening, "A Great Service".  They are arguably one of the most polished choral acts in Vancouver and I'd heard great reviews for them but never seen their live performance before.  Further investigation found that there were still tickets available, they weren't as expensive as I'd expected, and lo and behold Christopher Gaze was reading more Robert Service poems there as well!
Well that sealed it, and I'm glad I went.  The performances by both were spellbinding, alternating between songs and poetry with precision timing and smooth transition.  No applause till the end; it was just a good feeling of despair, passion, hope, in a grand space designed for an audience to arrive as individuals and leave as a group of people together impressed and smiling from the gift the performers have given them.
Thank you.

For the spirits departed

October already - much has happened, small trips and explorations, and yet my writing muse has evaded me.  Even in my dutiful pleasure of writing postcards to friends and family, I just haven't been moved to write.  I will catch up on it all soon.

The rains and winds have come, with the occasional sunny reprieve.  Saturday found me in a downpour, for a long walk to Mountain View Cemetery for a non-denominational observance for the dead called All Souls.  I'd seen it advertised on posters around bus shelters, etc and having never been before I thought I'd check it out.  Like Christmas, I like my holidays to have more tradition/substance that the commercialized candy-coated stuff that's so easily accessible yet leaves me empty-hearted.

The premise here seemed simple; light a candle, leave a flower.  The organizers had set up several temporary shrines around the vast grounds, the wind billowing the fabric walls and menacing the tenacious candles.  The first (and permanent) structure the little pathway lanterns led me to was a Chinese shrine, where we were welcome to light incense for the dead by an alter with oranges, and pork and chicken covered in plastic.  A trio of women sang a beautiful ancient song from a German abbotrice in the 12th century...? It seemed fitting and didn't contrast at all.  A smart visitor standing behind me brought a thermos of mulled wine which mingled with the scent of incense.
Following little lanterns that the wind was extinguishing I found more shrines, similar yet each different.  One was manned by a woman pouring herbal tea made from herbs associated with healing medicine, I was glad for the hot drink.  This was the shrine for infants or stillborn babes, near a 'dry creek bed with a stone for each child' made in 2006.
More shrines leading up to the Mandarin Hall, a warm bright building that offered more tea and cookies as I entered, and several tables were set up with craft materials to decorate and personalize paper inserts for glass candle holders.  All this while I've been made aware that death has touched me so lightly and seldom, so I wrote a general prayer for everyone, living and dead that they may find peace.  Warmed with tea and satisfied with my offering, I left it in a shrine I liked best for no particular reason, and was told the event organizers would keep the candles lit till Halloween, then burn all the messages in ritual and reuse the glassware for next year.

Few people I know have died.  One grandparent, when I was a child and wasn't really invited to participate in mourning.  A friend I'd been chatting on forums with awhile, who I haven't met in person.  And two dead pet rabbits, one I knew for only a night and another for seven years.  I refrained from keeping living persons too close in heart that evening, lest my thoughts lump them in with the dead.
That afternoon my friend had captured a Northern Flicker that he'd seen previously having trouble perching to feed upright, and brought it into the wildlife rescue shelter for assessment and care.  I found out today that they'd assessed it wouldn't recover from the compound fracture of its leg likely sustained from a collision with a car, and thus put it to sleep.  I feel quite conflicted about that, which is what finally spurred me to write tonight; on one hand a wild animal would have drastically different demands than a domestic pet, and the rescue workers probably thought they were doing him a favour by making that decision for him.  On the other hand, I know my friend would care well for the crippled bird for the rest of its life, and when it eventually died sooner or later it would be comfortable in its own territory with its mate likely in the yard nearby.  I suppose this is an age-old question on palliative care, and it's easy to anthropomorphize animals we care about, and difficult to make decisions for those who cannot speak for themselves about their suffering.

May those that have gone before find respite from their suffering and peace the cumulative joys in their life.
May those that remain be grateful for the time they have left.

More wines of Cawston+south Okanagan

Both the coast and the Okanagan valley have had a roasting hot summer, and while Vancouver was edging back into a brief reprieve of cloud+rain I headed back to the valley to visit for the weekend.  Time to hit a few wineries that we'd either missed visiting in the spring the last time we were out this way, or else they weren't open at the time as new businesses pop up (and occasionally fold) frequently.

St. Lazlo - Looks from the outside like a small family operation, I got the sense that they weren't chomping at the bit to draw in or educate customers but nevertheless let me sample their wares; featuring eastern European grapes Perle von Zala and the signature Tokay, both thick nectar that seemed more alcoholic than they were.
Fairview Cidery - Have been growing traditional cider varietals to supply other companies, the cidery just started producing under it's own name.  Small clean tasting bar, welcoming service and tasty offerings.
Hugging Tree - Barely been open two weeks, their new tasting room is still being set up and looking elegant, though I caught a peaceful earthy hippie-vibe from the young enthusiastic presenter who was eager to support and recommend their winemaking friends in the area too.  Estate-grown grapes right up onto the rocks of the hillside produced small yield but nice work.
C+C Jentch - In what used to be an orchard produce warehouse along the highway, clean and well presented.  Had an unusual blend of Syrah and Viognier that piqued my interest, though wines were on the pricier side of average for the area.
Covert Farms - Nestled in a quiet valley surrounded by hills, we got a little lost following paths to the work yard and farm stand and eventually the wine room, but there's a beautiful building and patio there.  A bit of meat and cheese, and assorted products from the fruit grown on site.  Again a bit pricier wines but organic, and the reds were very smooth.
Hidden Chapel - A beautiful site ideal for a picnic with an adorable tiny chapel, and friendly presenter.  Again the gentle reds, and small production means they sell out quick.
Intersection - The tasting room was just open 3 weeks, clean but very bare bones, but I'll revisit them again once they get their feet under them.  Limited varietals to offer, mostly Merlots, had a nice red blend.
Kismet - Another new operation that just opened May 1st, they had a nice Malbec+Syrah I would've loved to get but they were sold out, and I was disappointed to hear that they'll change the ratio next season so it won't be the same.. still worth checking in on in the future.
Maverick - Just opened August 1st, the independent project from the former winemaker of Burrowing Owl.  Fine product, well done.       

August long weekend back in Newcastle

August is typically busy for me.  The summer is when Vancouver really comes alive with all sorts of activities and events, and if you don't stay in town it's the best time to explore the surrounding area because the weather is finally HOT and SUNNY! Even if I'm stranded far from a safe roof over my head, 'tis the time to camp out on a park bench.

The start of August is a long weekend here, which we made into a 5-day weekend and sailed over the Newcastle Island - revisiting where I went in May, this time in a boat, to meet with a group of people.  The same location is now a very different experience than being alone, as I expected it would be; more stability and organization, but less spontaneity and independence.  It was very relaxing, and I had a leisurely time drinking on the docks and a short hike to find the other three geocaches I missed finding in May - one up a tree with branches I had no faith in to support my weight, so I figured I wouldn't reach without a corps of engineers and a system of pulleys and lines to get me up there.  Maybe someday.  I saw raccoons, bats and otters, and there was a protected colony of purple martins, the largest swallows in North America, in the pilings of the marina - noisy but a gentle way to wake up in the morning.