tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44694366823736562802024-03-12T21:13:26.533-07:00Blog from the Kootenays The life and times of an old semi-hippieIen in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.comBlogger238125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-37883517079845229172019-03-07T19:02:00.001-08:002019-03-10T10:00:46.837-07:00Ien and Linda's excellent Maya adventure, part 5. Just an in between day.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">Warning: This travel blog is meant as a record that allows us to share with family and relive the experience as much as possible. It is not a literary endeavor. Innocent bystanders may be bored to tears by the amount of detail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Facebook post the next day:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Today is much better, phew! A mix of sun and cloud, coolish, windy. What we used to call "dune weather" on our Noordwijk vacations. Not warm enough for laying around on the beach, but nice enough for a walk and a picnic in the dunes.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We went outside the Playacar bubble to Walmart, cowardly by taxi, to see if I could score some warm clothing to replace the lost items. Zero. NADA. Four warm jackets but they were too small. Not even a sweat shirt, and n</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">o sudoku book anywhere either. It was fun to get a glimpse of the real town on the way there. If I were in better shape I could walk out there, but I was not, especially after twisting my foot. </span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dg3g_E5futk/XIHNL_szENI/AAAAAAAAGDc/2mw4WKnqdpc3uEd9SjESo0J37xbKnYQKQCLcBGAs/s1600/walmart2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dg3g_E5futk/XIHNL_szENI/AAAAAAAAGDc/2mw4WKnqdpc3uEd9SjESo0J37xbKnYQKQCLcBGAs/s640/walmart2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A gentleman who posed as just another customer gave us helpful hints about where I might get what I was looking for, and then tried to get us to attend a time share meeting. He acted quite offended when we refused and gave us a big spiel about it being his daughter's birthday, and what did we have to lose by spending one afternoon of our vacation and had he not been helpful to us? The whole thing was delivered half tongue in cheek, we both knew it was BS. I finally just laughed and handed him two bucks for the good advice, after which the blessings of many saints were called upon us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We also had fun socializing in the lineup by the till, with ordinary people who are not paid to smile. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #1d2129; display: inline; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If I do nothing else here but practice Spanish I am having a blast! People seem to appreciate my pathetic but sincere efforts. On the way back we stopped by the cupcake cafe for a half decent capuccino. </span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-br2gZj9DPNs/XIHT5lmemGI/AAAAAAAAGEI/JHywEttpWsc3khi3GWpWhG8wmXiIesC4gCLcBGAs/s1600/Ien%2Bwith%2Bcapucchino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-br2gZj9DPNs/XIHT5lmemGI/AAAAAAAAGEI/JHywEttpWsc3khi3GWpWhG8wmXiIesC4gCLcBGAs/s640/Ien%2Bwith%2Bcapucchino.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I had a brief conversation in sort of Spanish with the barista about the name of the ubiquitous corvids we have around here. She wanted to call it a raven. Not but we agreed it was the same family and I said “son todos ladrones” (they are all thieves) which made her laugh and she agreed. Senior staff is fluently bilingual but almost everyone speaks some English.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Linda managed to communicate that she is a professional pastry chef.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zo-DFEDiUA/XIHa_7yK74I/AAAAAAAAGE8/bua-Gv4J-QIkYoowpf6RNmV7ZQ6ZXtsIQCLcBGAs/s1600/plaza%2Bwith%2BChayita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zo-DFEDiUA/XIHa_7yK74I/AAAAAAAAGE8/bua-Gv4J-QIkYoowpf6RNmV7ZQ6ZXtsIQCLcBGAs/s640/plaza%2Bwith%2BChayita.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The Cupcake cafe, Chayita Mexican food and the overpriced hotel store are all to one side of the plaza where the concerts happen.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Was this the day we got take out burritos as a snack and were too full to go for dinner? Was this the time I was so desperate for something warm to wrap myself into that I ended up buying a beautiful but overpriced blanket at the hotel store? I think so, but memory is getting fuzzy and what does it matter.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-65z2I7jqBFo/XIHVy9vtrFI/AAAAAAAAGEc/R9bP6T257XsPd5mfyVL3HMTZa_Yrxf2tACLcBGAs/s1600/the%2Boverpriced%2Bstore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-65z2I7jqBFo/XIHVy9vtrFI/AAAAAAAAGEc/R9bP6T257XsPd5mfyVL3HMTZa_Yrxf2tACLcBGAs/s640/the%2Boverpriced%2Bstore.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We had to go to bed early, because the next day we had to be at the pick up point for the mini bus at 7.30!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Tomorrow, TULUM. And meanwhile here is some more towel art.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MroTQDA06k4/XIHW6DtlD1I/AAAAAAAAGEs/L2W-UDMEMxEbt_dcAHxgf-mTPgqkpbOXgCEwYBhgL/s1600/towel%2Bart%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MroTQDA06k4/XIHW6DtlD1I/AAAAAAAAGEs/L2W-UDMEMxEbt_dcAHxgf-mTPgqkpbOXgCEwYBhgL/s640/towel%2Bart%2B5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-47371136184119756962019-03-07T18:52:00.002-08:002019-03-10T09:56:19.372-07:00Ien and Linda's excellent Riviera Maya adventure. Part 4. The weather changes and we book a trip.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Warning: This travel blog is meant as a record that allows us to share with family and relive the experience as much as possible. It is not a literary endeavor. Innocent bystanders may be bored to tears by the amount of detail.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PqScXzGdkcw/XGuav5AsbQI/AAAAAAAAF9Y/t_I-wbm01yQevABy7KjEi-GviluKpS1VgCEwYBhgL/s1600/buffet%2Bhall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PqScXzGdkcw/XGuav5AsbQI/AAAAAAAAF9Y/t_I-wbm01yQevABy7KjEi-GviluKpS1VgCEwYBhgL/s640/buffet%2Bhall.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Before we go any further, may I gush about the food for a moment? </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">No, Sandos is not paying me and I do not own a time share. </span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6t4SgoD_zcY/XGuank57oRI/AAAAAAAAF9Y/ZLTNByrrWvUgOyZDVHrWbDh8xChiy1R_QCEwYBhgL/s1600/fresh%2Bfood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="309" data-original-width="550" height="350" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6t4SgoD_zcY/XGuank57oRI/AAAAAAAAF9Y/ZLTNByrrWvUgOyZDVHrWbDh8xChiy1R_QCEwYBhgL/s640/fresh%2Bfood.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent;">The buffet is just great. Lots of fresh fruit at all meals. Vegetables galore both as salads and prepared. Great selection of bread. Made to order omelettes and smoothies. An oriental section, a Mexican section, an Italian section and lots of just good food. It caters to all. From gluten free vegans to bacon obsessed meat eaters, from lovers of tentacled seafood (that's me!) to picky kids who insist on chicken fingers or hot dogs, it is there. We enjoyed it so much we never even tried all the a la carte places.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Anyway....In the course of the first Sunday the weather cooled down, it clouded over and the wind picked up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">We retreated from the beach to the more sheltered pool. Linda got her first Margarita.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R5wt1fFDeag/XGueS-0mnNI/AAAAAAAAF9w/SMag6yfMbZ8m-pa9590kqDg0gOr53YtaQCLcBGAs/s1600/first%2Bmargarita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="654" data-original-width="960" height="432" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R5wt1fFDeag/XGueS-0mnNI/AAAAAAAAF9w/SMag6yfMbZ8m-pa9590kqDg0gOr53YtaQCLcBGAs/s640/first%2Bmargarita.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">We tried out the Italian restaurant. Nice atmosphere, great service including a shawl for people who find the airco too aggressive, food OK but not oh wow, especially the main pasta dishes. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KSwn3xd8o3I/XIB9K0bnF0I/AAAAAAAAGA8/1u4LcHA2shUbbC-7RUiCzXX5gPRVq8YAwCLcBGAs/s1600/Ien%2Btucking%2Binto%2BItalian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KSwn3xd8o3I/XIB9K0bnF0I/AAAAAAAAGA8/1u4LcHA2shUbbC-7RUiCzXX5gPRVq8YAwCLcBGAs/s640/Ien%2Btucking%2Binto%2BItalian.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Later that night the show was a must. </span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YXfAYru-9fA/XIHSameJT0I/AAAAAAAAGD8/I_n2hAzP0ogbEicAN_25_H5YxfJONbQzACLcBGAs/s1600/the%2Bstage%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YXfAYru-9fA/XIHSameJT0I/AAAAAAAAGD8/I_n2hAzP0ogbEicAN_25_H5YxfJONbQzACLcBGAs/s640/the%2Bstage%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was a tribute to ACDC, whatever that is, and Linda planned to dance! I was happy to retreat to the good wifi again. </span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fLYtK2J8kzM/XIB_cAOnoFI/AAAAAAAAGBU/-x0cA00PTmoB6phCtaO1wOxvsnAXNrFdQCEwYBhgL/s1600/inside%2Bthe%2Bmeeting%2Bpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fLYtK2J8kzM/XIB_cAOnoFI/AAAAAAAAGBU/-x0cA00PTmoB6phCtaO1wOxvsnAXNrFdQCEwYBhgL/s640/inside%2Bthe%2Bmeeting%2Bpoint.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Alas, before long it started to rain and the show was canceled before the band got electrocuted. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Monday morning we woke to continuing rain. At least it was still warm and, as Canadians like to remind each other, we did not have to shovel it. We decided to venture out of the resort bubble, turn right this time </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and find the cluster of shops on Avenida Xaman Ha, the main road that runs past all the Playacar resorts. Linda needed gifts for her tribe. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I was hoping to find a book of Sudoku puzzles to replace the lost Kobo as beach entertainment.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I also felt quite insecure without any warm clothing after losing my cardigan in the airport. There is such a thing as traveling too light.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The walk from our home base by the beach to the exit took about ten minutes. Some more pictures of the inside of the resort. The place is huge and in the beginning quite overwhelming.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pWm5Y_biCSU/XICk3dJGQzI/AAAAAAAAGB0/5kuxM-nDvl47k0y-1RlqBFysJ165spVHgCLcBGAs/s1600/resort%2Blandscape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pWm5Y_biCSU/XICk3dJGQzI/AAAAAAAAGB0/5kuxM-nDvl47k0y-1RlqBFysJ165spVHgCLcBGAs/s640/resort%2Blandscape.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is all beautifully landscaped. I get a kick out of seeing our typical houseplants in their natural environment. </span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iubfY8RIQqs/XIVAxbaSKsI/AAAAAAAAGFU/oOf9FobXs88Xsy9745y-NYC4hQDZr_ZbACLcBGAs/s1600/tropical%2Bplants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iubfY8RIQqs/XIVAxbaSKsI/AAAAAAAAGFU/oOf9FobXs88Xsy9745y-NYC4hQDZr_ZbACLcBGAs/s640/tropical%2Bplants.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Philodendrons get enormous. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LhAmiJUwFbk/XIClZ5pM3-I/AAAAAAAAGCA/6teCnIq2ecwTPIS6pRa24GGTj-l-aiigQCLcBGAs/s1600/bikes%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LhAmiJUwFbk/XIClZ5pM3-I/AAAAAAAAGCA/6teCnIq2ecwTPIS6pRa24GGTj-l-aiigQCLcBGAs/s640/bikes%2B3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Bicycles are available.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When it rains in the Yucatan it pours! I guess the drainage infrastructure leaves to be desired.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oKH_s_GLJOk/XICCi-WRLGI/AAAAAAAAGBc/HDyM2sAJhSA8F46IjejwGydIuwbJYpskgCLcBGAs/s1600/white%2Bcar%2Bon%2Bflooded%2Bha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oKH_s_GLJOk/XICCi-WRLGI/AAAAAAAAGBc/HDyM2sAJhSA8F46IjejwGydIuwbJYpskgCLcBGAs/s640/white%2Bcar%2Bon%2Bflooded%2Bha.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">We squelched our way down the avenue, frequently crossing the street to avoid the worst inundations. Because it was all new it felt like a major expedition and we felt quite triumphant when we spied the Starbucks. The shops all seem to sell the same stuff aimed at tourists. Big on lively colour, low on utility. Strictly junk food in the 7-11, no sudoku. No sweater or poncho or any warm cover either, but I did find a beach cover up that was a vast improvement over the oversized dress I had been using.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sp8lMq-R20M/XICiB1BfUhI/AAAAAAAAGBo/PfAUUd9Vhvc7iyisZ9zq68snyS2bOs4kgCLcBGAs/s1600/Ien%2Bby%2Bpool%2Bin%2Bwhite%2Bcover%2Bup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sp8lMq-R20M/XICiB1BfUhI/AAAAAAAAGBo/PfAUUd9Vhvc7iyisZ9zq68snyS2bOs4kgCLcBGAs/s640/Ien%2Bby%2Bpool%2Bin%2Bwhite%2Bcover%2Bup.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Apart from the shops there was a kiosk with offers for excursions. We chatted with the main agent and ended up booking a tour to Tulum and Cobal. A whole day, for less than half the price of the offerings at the resort. Yeah! We felt like we accomplished something.</span></span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-8679095877262765012019-02-10T19:16:00.003-08:002019-03-07T18:55:56.123-08:00Ien and Linda's excellent Riviera Maya Adventure, part 3. We get settled in and Ien has another mishap.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Warning: This travel blog is meant as a record that allows us to share and relive the experience as much as possible. It is not a literary endeavor. Innocent bystanders may be bored to tears by the amount of detail.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On our first night we tried to find the main dining hall but were stymied by the name of the place: Fiesta Hall. That, combined with the huge colourful images we could see playing on the back wall, made us think this must be where shows took place. We eventually found that the colourful slides just depicted food.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-afPQof2vabk/XGIbl1bXEvI/AAAAAAAAF0A/JDjqzG16130hdPwAE0Zfc8anotWUm6k5QCLcBGAs/s1600/Sandos_Playacar_Festival_01.jpe" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="1440" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-afPQof2vabk/XGIbl1bXEvI/AAAAAAAAF0A/JDjqzG16130hdPwAE0Zfc8anotWUm6k5QCLcBGAs/s640/Sandos_Playacar_Festival_01.jpe" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We were hungry (next time, bring extra food on the flight) and wandered further afield. Soon we stumbled on what turned out to be the Friday special event: an outdoor market and an outdoor buffet with delicious Mexican food. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Lots of fresh vegetables, tacos made to order, pick your meat and condiments. We found a table nearby in the area that served one of the many bars, got drinks and happily settled down. On the way back to our room we even took a quick peak at the beach. It was a great start.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com.au/LocationPhotoDirectLink-g150812-d153378-i340976455-Sandos_Playacar_Beach_Resort-Playa_del_Carmen_Yucatan_Peninsula.html#340976455"><img alt="" height="308" src="https://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/14/52/e3/47/20180824-210332-largejpg.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />This photo of Sandos Playacar Beach Resort is courtesy of TripAdvisor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The setup was between our section and the meeting point, just past the long pool. </span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4OA5H28bIsY/XGDxm27DC6I/AAAAAAAAFx4/OnvB9W1Vam8UQeQvIMeHcSVC-fAx1P9SQCLcBGAs/s1600/to%2Bthe%2Bmeeting%2Bpoint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4OA5H28bIsY/XGDxm27DC6I/AAAAAAAAFx4/OnvB9W1Vam8UQeQvIMeHcSVC-fAx1P9SQCLcBGAs/s640/to%2Bthe%2Bmeeting%2Bpoint.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ah, the Meeting Point! It is that pointy pagoda like thing with the thatched roof </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">in the back to the left</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">. Inside the roof looks like this:</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fiFd__4v-rI/XGDjLZ68UzI/AAAAAAAAFws/uUEqQPNi21AKA9def99JO6N2iQPlymHJgCEwYBhgL/s1600/looking%2Binside%2Bvisior%2Bcentre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fiFd__4v-rI/XGDjLZ68UzI/AAAAAAAAFws/uUEqQPNi21AKA9def99JO6N2iQPlymHJgCEwYBhgL/s640/looking%2Binside%2Bvisior%2Bcentre.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We had to go here on our first morning to ward off offers of special memberships and claim some coupons. I got the wifi straightened out so we could let the folks at home know that yes, we had landed. Wifi in the room was iffy, but in this hub it was always decent. At any time there were people lounging around in the cozy swinging seats messing with their devices.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--hPyWHe9Pow/XGD0xeycUOI/AAAAAAAAFyE/LsM0zAmejIQumdcy9EJ8rOWF6oB3_hLfwCLcBGAs/s1600/guest%2Bservice%2Bcentre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--hPyWHe9Pow/XGD0xeycUOI/AAAAAAAAFyE/LsM0zAmejIQumdcy9EJ8rOWF6oB3_hLfwCLcBGAs/s640/guest%2Bservice%2Bcentre.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Others were asking questions or solving problems with the wonderful bilingual staff at the Guest Services counter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We also had to go to another building to talk to the Sun Wings rep. This was partly to register for our return flight, and partly to look into excursions. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The ones promoted by Sunwings and the resort turned out to be quite pricey and also included much that we were not interested in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Cenotes? Linda does not do caves, period. Quite frankly I am not crazy about them either. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ziplines? Shudder. ATV trips? No thanks. I hate noise toys. Chitzen Itzah was three hours by bus each way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Another offer was for a day trip to Coba. In that place, managed by a Mayan cooperative, people can climb the pyramid and have a meal cooked just for them by Mayan people who supposedly still live the traditional lifestyle. Somehow that makes me cringe. The traditional life does not include being a tourist attraction. Pick one! We took some brochures and did not decide on anything yet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I made a half hearted effort to get my lost jacket back. Sunwing man promised to send out an email to the Lost and Found section in the airport and get back to me. Yeah right. I did not get my hopes up but was pleasantly surprised to hear such a department existed.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-15uFSsUweUQ/XGEKSHASW_I/AAAAAAAAFyU/zc_sleZYZmMGu5GGtOn0KrF8cPz23zmmgCLcBGAs/s1600/beach%2Bshade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-15uFSsUweUQ/XGEKSHASW_I/AAAAAAAAFyU/zc_sleZYZmMGu5GGtOn0KrF8cPz23zmmgCLcBGAs/s640/beach%2Bshade.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chores done we headed for lunch at the buffet and then the BEACH! The weather was blue and warm and we fully expected two weeks of that.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In the late afternoon we went for a walk of about an hour. Out to the exit of the resort, left on Avenida Xaman Ha where we had been told there was a cluster of shops including a Starbucks. Or was that to the right? We did not find it. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Q6vezn22ew/XIHN-FYP-UI/AAAAAAAAGDk/0YPLHrLas5oF77JJWo8gkIET-meghiVHwCLcBGAs/s1600/sandos%2Bentry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Q6vezn22ew/XIHN-FYP-UI/AAAAAAAAGDk/0YPLHrLas5oF77JJWo8gkIET-meghiVHwCLcBGAs/s640/sandos%2Bentry.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I knew I was out of shape, but am embarrassed to admit how much. There were no</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> hills, no ice, no scary dogs, but I felt stiff afterwards. </span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RN2tQlLzN8s/XIHHg4EjLhI/AAAAAAAAGC8/ufvVUuefBa4yTeXqZsC7Q5InTuhQWgS9ACLcBGAs/s1600/shows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1316" height="310" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RN2tQlLzN8s/XIHHg4EjLhI/AAAAAAAAGC8/ufvVUuefBa4yTeXqZsC7Q5InTuhQWgS9ACLcBGAs/s640/shows.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There is a show every evening at nine. Linda is a dancer and a lover of rock and roll and pop, I not so much but I was willing to try. That night it was a tribute to Michael Jackson.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l4Ljorzkokg/XIHPknJbbMI/AAAAAAAAGDw/jfcstrT1_LA2hiG5aQI-i-bbYhGNMQVhACLcBGAs/s1600/stage%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l4Ljorzkokg/XIHPknJbbMI/AAAAAAAAGDw/jfcstrT1_LA2hiG5aQI-i-bbYhGNMQVhACLcBGAs/s640/stage%2521.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It took only a minute before I retreated from the noise level. I don't care what the music is, I do not do loud. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Meanwhile I got to play with the decent</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> wifi in the meeting point, right behind the plaza. We were both perfectly happy with th</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">e arrangement. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The next morning we decided to go for a beach walk before breakfast. The empty beach to the South of our resort was one of the attractions of the place. </span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDg_uocr4qk/XGEMXAPRj7I/AAAAAAAAFyk/OFKDAzQJS4gEgC2c0Yl-9aIVEl0ajBUNgCLcBGAs/s1600/BEACH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDg_uocr4qk/XGEMXAPRj7I/AAAAAAAAFyk/OFKDAzQJS4gEgC2c0Yl-9aIVEl0ajBUNgCLcBGAs/s640/BEACH.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The beach looks freshly vacuumed because it was. Every morning around seven we could hear the sound of the machine that cleans off the seaweed. That clean white sandy beach, like so much in these resorts, is a carefully maintained illusion. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sN4uBmJfaW0/XGDkcMWepFI/AAAAAAAAFxs/iWotZQ9fPlgf79BkBs6awIxJYvmbIgjewCEwYBhgL/s1600/ridgy%2Bbeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sN4uBmJfaW0/XGDkcMWepFI/AAAAAAAAFxs/iWotZQ9fPlgf79BkBs6awIxJYvmbIgjewCEwYBhgL/s640/ridgy%2Bbeach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This image, found online, clearly shows a quirk of the beach here. It has funny ridges, sudden drops. See how low the line of seaweed is in relation to the birds? </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Mishap #2 is about to occur.</span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gsgkhl-6D_0/XGDj4PE7PiI/AAAAAAAAFxY/wq53yf5ZbYYp9eQQ0iddZ-pMy1gewV0zwCEwYBhgL/s1600/Ien%2Bpink%2Bat%2Bbeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gsgkhl-6D_0/XGDj4PE7PiI/AAAAAAAAFxY/wq53yf5ZbYYp9eQQ0iddZ-pMy1gewV0zwCEwYBhgL/s640/Ien%2Bpink%2Bat%2Bbeach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Linda took the picture above just before we set out in the opposite direction. Note purse slung over shoulder. I carried it because I wanted to take pictures.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There was no hard sand for easy walking. We were merrily slogging through ankle deep water when I unexpectedly hit one of those drops, lost my footing, and tumbled with my left side into the water. My first thought was for the Precious: the new-to-me iPhone! I immediately lifted the purse out of the water. Linda helped me up and grabbed my sandals before they floated away. We joked about this being an eldercare moment. There would be more. My foot had been twisted and gave some mild grief.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We wiped the phone on Linda's skirt and it was none the worse for wear. Yeah water resistance! However, later that day I realised the e-reader had also been in the purse. It was toast. So much for being clever and packing a device instead of a pile of books. Fortunately Linda soon finished one of her books and I managed to download some things to iPad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">From a facebook post on this day:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The plan was for at least two walks a day, one beach and one park, but the stumble put the kibosh on that. Neither of us feels very ambitious. We are mostly happy to just hang out in the resort. Very boring for people who were hoping for pictures of adventure, but WE ARE LOVING EVERY MINUTE</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">..</span></span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-72785651418582583772019-02-03T22:48:00.000-08:002019-02-13T09:55:18.656-08:00Ien and Linda's excellent Riviera Maya adventure, part 2. Arrival<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Warning: This travel blog is meant as a record that allows us to share and relive the experience as much as possible. It is not a literary endeavor. Innocent bystanders may be bored to tears by the amount of detail.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As usual Linda was packed and ready days ahead, and she prepared in style, with 20 nails ready for summer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ldwcLX1jgHU/XFfAAt4LiGI/AAAAAAAAFpI/2nJWNqWMbWQEiJX5nwqkMpJsYjIobHbSQCK4BGAYYCw/s1600/hands.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ldwcLX1jgHU/XFfAAt4LiGI/AAAAAAAAFpI/2nJWNqWMbWQEiJX5nwqkMpJsYjIobHbSQCK4BGAYYCw/s640/hands.jpg" width="640" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Going through security is a hassle these days. I knew about the limit on liquids, but not that it extends to gelly things in tubes. Have no fear world! Our intrepid safety inspectors duly protected you from the danger posed by a 144ml tube of Aveena face cleanser. Also, who knew that Dr. Scholl's insoles have metal parts that set off machines? Anyway, we got away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2DTgnQD1FdM/XFfCFlrPpWI/AAAAAAAAFpQ/vhXsD9mOZGkdvsoC2JjKOiAcuji-7FJIACLcBGAs/s1600/in%2Bflight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2DTgnQD1FdM/XFfCFlrPpWI/AAAAAAAAFpQ/vhXsD9mOZGkdvsoC2JjKOiAcuji-7FJIACLcBGAs/s640/in%2Bflight.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There were some interesting views but no way to know where we were. Clouds rolled in for much of the flight and when it cleared we were over the Mississippi. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EXCGPt8aCO8/XFfFm9S9ANI/AAAAAAAAFpg/mkd8NqYEwiAtm6rKSwbb7bGKIeoOmokwACLcBGAs/s1600/mississippi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EXCGPt8aCO8/XFfFm9S9ANI/AAAAAAAAFpg/mkd8NqYEwiAtm6rKSwbb7bGKIeoOmokwACLcBGAs/s640/mississippi.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A small mishap occurred upon landing. I thought I had solved the dilemma of what to wear when traveling between seasons by working with layers: no bulky winter coat but a polar fleece with a zippered cardigan underneath. Those items were stowed overhead. Also overhead, a mostly empty day pack. The idea was to stuff the warm clothing into the day pack upon arrival. Ha! We were sitting in the rear of the plane, in window seats. I could not get to my stuff till the other passeners had gone and besides, Nature called first. Now one's brain tends to be zombified after six hours of just sitting crammed in tight with the other sardines.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When the clothes did not fit fully into the pack the smart thing would have been to just put the jacket on. Instead I stuffed it all in as well as I could, hoisted the half zippered pack and ran, or rather hobbled, after Linda through long empty corridors till we came to the arrival hall. Chaos! We found our suitcases, and that is when Linda noticed my back pack, gaping open and empty. We were terrified of missing our transport to the resort, so I did not dare to run back. It would have been nice to have a Sunwing person in the arrival hall guiding us through that part. We had to go through a bunch of immigration lines first, and then somehow found our driver outside. Goodbye favourite jacket, goodbye any item to keep me warm on chilly nights. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But never mind, we were IN MEXICO! Yeah! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3JjZnlqPfJM/XFfXBvSlKKI/AAAAAAAAFqY/pQ3GmA4cMTUXQ1NdpYV3me1hLnvclprNACKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_0015.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3JjZnlqPfJM/XFfXBvSlKKI/AAAAAAAAFqY/pQ3GmA4cMTUXQ1NdpYV3me1hLnvclprNACKgBGAs/s400/IMG_0015.HEIC" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Selfie in the bus.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The highway between Cancun and Playa del Carmen is boring. Dare I say it? All highways in the Yucatan peninsula may be boring. The landscape is totally flat. Anything interesting requires going off the main road. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TzvGkNQlKUU/XGIemoH9wkI/AAAAAAAAF0M/ncFwhUAYSZ0WxMZ-YjXalVjCkk-NuoyEwCLcBGAs/s1600/lobby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="550" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TzvGkNQlKUU/XGIemoH9wkI/AAAAAAAAF0M/ncFwhUAYSZ0WxMZ-YjXalVjCkk-NuoyEwCLcBGAs/s640/lobby.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was almost dark by the time we got to our resort. Our first stop was the beautiful entry hall where were fitted with the magical armbands that would unlock the kingdom of Sandos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The plastic bands are so light that you don't notice them at all. I loved never having to worry about having the key when we left the room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We started telling the porter that we would meet him at the room, a ten minute walk. After a day of sitting queremos caminar! We soon lost our way in the dark and were glad to hop onto the golf cart a bit later. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XTOBTfvszv4/XGDB8qQGqjI/AAAAAAAAFuU/Bsm0BWk6hgciVAJkBBDniv5-qHlROykdwCEwYBhgL/s1600/almost%2Bthere.%2BOutside%2Bthe%2Broom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XTOBTfvszv4/XGDB8qQGqjI/AAAAAAAAFuU/Bsm0BWk6hgciVAJkBBDniv5-qHlROykdwCEwYBhgL/s400/almost%2Bthere.%2BOutside%2Bthe%2Broom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Almost there. #1427 was The room. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">OMG. Joy! Joy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Honestly, if they had given us a map of the entire place and told us to pick a room we would have picked one close to what we were given.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Some reports on Trip Advisor mentioned that the rooms in the section closest to the beach were dingy and in need of repair. That repair must have happened, because everything was gleaming and new and worked. </span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kGR7-wBQ06Y/XGDJWcaoKjI/AAAAAAAAFug/_GgzHB5LTesGF812Bhb219tFvizg-_btQCLcBGAs/s1600/room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kGR7-wBQ06Y/XGDJWcaoKjI/AAAAAAAAFug/_GgzHB5LTesGF812Bhb219tFvizg-_btQCLcBGAs/s1600/room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kGR7-wBQ06Y/XGDJWcaoKjI/AAAAAAAAFug/_GgzHB5LTesGF812Bhb219tFvizg-_btQCLcBGAs/s640/room.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The beds were firm and super comfortable.</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-PChAdPU24/XGIjbDwqw8I/AAAAAAAAF0s/KDAF5eGd8Sc1GsRKBsY-OgrhBZByCzWFQCLcBGAs/s1600/brollies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q-PChAdPU24/XGIjbDwqw8I/AAAAAAAAF0s/KDAF5eGd8Sc1GsRKBsY-OgrhBZByCzWFQCLcBGAs/s400/brollies.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The cooler was kept stocked with beer and soft drinks. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The safe was easy to operate and worked. I could have left my small umbrella at home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--A3KSbwb05g/XFfZx04zgsI/AAAAAAAAFqw/fPwwUjP1pc0R0ZU143RtNUIxe7ZoXTVvACKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_0027.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--A3KSbwb05g/XFfZx04zgsI/AAAAAAAAFqw/fPwwUjP1pc0R0ZU143RtNUIxe7ZoXTVvACKgBGAs/s400/IMG_0027.HEIC" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Look at that welcome package! Tequila, champagne, fruit, and two chocolate covered strawberries. The water cooler to the right was also kept full.</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WZM2QkLwWS0/XGDb5YZzwTI/AAAAAAAAFvg/ON5XpFlpKEA-pVZIwH4wJgPq2kJldFGZwCLcBGAs/s1600/robes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WZM2QkLwWS0/XGDb5YZzwTI/AAAAAAAAFvg/ON5XpFlpKEA-pVZIwH4wJgPq2kJldFGZwCLcBGAs/s400/robes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We even got robes! That really made us feel upscale.</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IvTNLqjJllA/XGDVk9ci81I/AAAAAAAAFvA/AraMOSWHyscOZm0Hy9YWh4gbA9HEx9UYQCLcBGAs/s1600/shower%2Bwith%2Bbench.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IvTNLqjJllA/XGDVk9ci81I/AAAAAAAAFvA/AraMOSWHyscOZm0Hy9YWh4gbA9HEx9UYQCLcBGAs/s400/shower%2Bwith%2Bbench.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The bench inside the shower was a nice touch. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ikP0yqUW5Ys/XGDXBefJchI/AAAAAAAAFvM/Y_nVEoeF8iQdBarQRgBMu3JdopqEE0G9ACLcBGAs/s1600/bathroom%2Bien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ikP0yqUW5Ys/XGDXBefJchI/AAAAAAAAFvM/Y_nVEoeF8iQdBarQRgBMu3JdopqEE0G9ACLcBGAs/s400/bathroom%2Bien.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Whoever was complaining about dingy bathrooms must have had an unrenovated room. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H7sM_Q-laJo/XGIfcYzFolI/AAAAAAAAF0U/PT_Fa4dkt4MqPveLYrbwQFPzsRMJc990QCLcBGAs/s1600/Rebecca%252C%2Bour%2Bwonderful%2Bcamerista%2Banbd%2Btowel%2Bartista.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H7sM_Q-laJo/XGIfcYzFolI/AAAAAAAAF0U/PT_Fa4dkt4MqPveLYrbwQFPzsRMJc990QCLcBGAs/s400/Rebecca%252C%2Bour%2Bwonderful%2Bcamerista%2Banbd%2Btowel%2Bartista.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">The room was kept spotlessly clean all the time, courtesy of our lovely Rebecca, towel artist extraordinaire.</span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Re7IE42NOwc/XGDbXzwOj9I/AAAAAAAAFvY/XORYGYfYQUUEoyhxlkY8aD2gPiycGPaLACLcBGAs/s1600/51007181_10156556114386998_5031157920696369152_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Re7IE42NOwc/XGDbXzwOj9I/AAAAAAAAFvY/XORYGYfYQUUEoyhxlkY8aD2gPiycGPaLACLcBGAs/s640/51007181_10156556114386998_5031157920696369152_n.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I could almost have been happy to just sit on our cute balcony for two weeks, feeling the delicious air and watching the lively scene below.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-soEaJdNNHMA/XFfcIyuk8lI/AAAAAAAAFq8/OL32RY12cK8K0Y-FyCrdboM3B4zotgqqQCLcBGAs/s1600/pool%2Bview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-soEaJdNNHMA/XFfcIyuk8lI/AAAAAAAAFq8/OL32RY12cK8K0Y-FyCrdboM3B4zotgqqQCLcBGAs/s640/pool%2Bview.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This was the picture postcard view that greeted us the next morning. </span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gWyoHi36P1E/XFfecrk2QcI/AAAAAAAAFrU/rwy1OeBK9pUJ11jUpSm9_FkdHFaisus0gCLcBGAs/s1600/view%2Bwith%2Bsea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gWyoHi36P1E/XFfecrk2QcI/AAAAAAAAFrU/rwy1OeBK9pUJ11jUpSm9_FkdHFaisus0gCLcBGAs/s640/view%2Bwith%2Bsea.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We could even see the beach and ocean from the balcony. It doesn't get much better.</span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-42555084782871013342019-01-31T20:46:00.001-08:002019-02-13T10:16:14.448-08:00Ien and Linda's Excellent Maya Riviera Adventure-part 1 The Plan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It all started on Facebook. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Some time in late November Melanie in Ontario posted a tip for people who had time freedom and bit of extra cash: Cruises were on special. For less than a thousand bucks one could spend ten days in total luxury going from San Francisco to Mexico and back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am blessed with time freedom</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">these days, and there was even some extra cash, thanks to some trees that had needed cutting down. Yeah, so much for green cred.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am not into cruises but t</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">his post got me looking at other options.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We have always preferred to be travelers rather than tourists. I have also resisted going into a third world country. I imagined it as feeling constantly guilty while also worrying about being ripped off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Well</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">guess what. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After a few challenging years and a lousy summer I was feeling tired, old, and in need of an infusion of blue warmth. The idea of just plonking my fat body down on a beach and </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">being looked after at an all inclusive resort </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">was suddenly quite appealing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I will spare the reader the boring details of decision making. Agony! Days were spent going back and forth between Sunwing and Trip Advisor. As usual some of the process was</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> being shared on Facebook. Life opens up when you</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">First </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">an old acquaintance who is becoming more of a friend thanks to Facebook came into the picture. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We were talking about going together. We may still partner some other time. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But then came </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">this surprise message, from the daughter of my dear old friend Linda. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">A picture of the lovely Larissa when she was visiting here in October.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">"Good evening Ien, I noticed you are looking at going on a relaxing sunshine vavation. Great on you! You definitely deserve that dose of vitamin D. Are you looking for a traveling partner? I was thinking Mom...I would happily pay for her to tag along on a relaxing holiday with you."</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Talk about an offer we could not refuse! Linda is the one person in the world I can imagine sharing a home with. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We go back 43 years. Sometimes we don't communicate for months, but the connection is bone deep and always there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She is the friend featured in the post <span id="goog_836587439"></span><a href="https://freegreenliving.blogspot.com/2012/03/linda-does-laundry-memory-from-old-semi.html" target="_blank">"Linda does the laundry." </a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She is the amazing woman about who I wrote: "</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Linda is 13 years my junior but has been my guru in matters of homesteading and food preservation. This woman is a master gardener, cook and canner and has passed the gift on to all her children. She is a fantastic mother, competent at everything she does, an incredibly generous, energetic survivor and one of the people I love and admire most on this planet."</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">By this time the research had been narrowed down to the Riviera Maya rather than Cuba, and to the resorts South of Playa del Carmen, because the best beaches were there. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Two years ago Linda's son had his wedding in that region, in the resort Sandos Caracol. They had had a great time.There was also a Sandos beach resort, just South of town. I liked the picture right away. I did some more agonising but finally decided to jump. It turned out to be a good decision.</span></span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-38130631971957705932018-11-14T16:27:00.002-08:002023-10-31T21:54:36.532-07:00The dead in my head<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A funny thing happens to our relationship with people who have left this dimension: like Vonnegut’s Billy Pilgrim, they become unstuck in time. At least, that is how I experience it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I noticed it first with my father. I have led a lucky life in many ways, and had good parents. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I got to keep them for a long time too. Dad died in 2000, age 84. He was in full possession of his mind till the very end, but in his last few years his personality had suffered a bit. The ability to always see the other side of an issue, so typical of his charming Libra nature, was turning into a peevish contrariness. He was no longer quite the tolerant intellectual who instilled a deep respect for universal human rights in his children. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Once he was gone my memory mind reconstituted him in the fullness of his life, not as the diminished version of his final years. It did the same with Mom, who was predeceased by much of her mind by the time she left here 9 years later, aged 93. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And now, almost 6 months ago already, my husband of 53 years has joined them. The same process happened here. Mostly gone is the suffering and senile patient of the last years. I remember that time, of course. But when an association pops up that would have had us smile together about a shared memory, the version of Chris who shows up is the one that was present when that memory was made. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My dead are much with me as I go through the days. Not in a grief stricken or morbid way, just as company in my head, popping up as things remind me of them. They are getting more numerous. A special friend who we knew from way back in the Netherlands and who moved to Calgary 4 weeks after we did died a few months ago. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And so it goes. Sooner or later the presence of the dead will outnumber the living. I imagine that by that time it will seem the most natural thing to let go of this world and go wherever it is that the dead in our head have gone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">NOT YET!</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The dead in my head are a treasure of memory that enriches the present. I am in no hurry to join them. I feel fine, live surrounded by natural beauty and a good community, and am enjoying every blessed day I am granted.</span></span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-16966470906682738622018-08-24T23:01:00.000-07:002018-08-24T23:33:23.854-07:00Till death do us part<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; word-spacing: 1px;">It has been more than two months already. I hade been planning a blog ruminating on the nature of marriage and so on, but never got around to it. Meanwhile here is the </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; word-spacing: 1px;">obituary I wrote for the local papers. There was no funeral service. A trip to the offspring on the coast is in the offing, we will scatter his ashes in the ocean. He would have liked that. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">The person my husband had been disappeared slowly, Cheshire Cat style. He was never the same after the car accident in July 2012, even though he walked away with just a wee cut in his elbow. In retrospect this was the first sign of the illness that would eventually claim him. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #313131; font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; word-spacing: 1px;">I am doing just fine, enjoying the freedom and my own company. Tons to do, I will never be bored!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; word-spacing: 1px;">The photo is from the late nineties, on a ferry in the Salish Sea, near Cortez island. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; word-spacing: 1px;">Christiaan Godfried van Houten finally left his tortured body on June 1 2018 in Minto House, Nakusp, after years of struggling with a progressive neurological disease. He died as he had lived: quietly, on his own terms, with no sappy handholding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chris was born on June 23 1936 in Pankalan Berandan on the island of Sumatra, now Indonesia, then the Dutch East Indies. His parents were Louis van Houten and Johanna Jacoba van Houten-van der Lee. The families of both parents had ties to the colony that went back generations. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In WWII he spent three years in a prison camp during the Japanese occupation of the islands. Chris rarely talked about that time. If he did it was mostly to reminisce about tending cooking fires, growing tomatoes, and eating brown beans one by one as a special treat. Only recently have we realised how much of his life was influenced by the scars left by that traumatic experience. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In 1951 the family moved to the Netherlands for good. Chris never felt quite at home there, or anywhere else. All his life he had a deep need for freedom. He was happiest traveling. This partly explains his choice of profession, an exotic choice in a country without rocks. His fellow geology students would jokingly call themselves "professional campers". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chris married Ieneke van der Hout while both were at University in 1965. In 1969 the couple made the move to Canada, a country where geology is a mainstream profession. A job in Grand Forks brought them to the Kootenays. The couple fell in love with the region. There was another geology stint in Duncan, B.C., but eventually location determined work, instead of the other way around. In spite of having no training as a carpenter Chris built a sturdy cabin, complete with electrical wiring that passed inspection.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chris loved to drive and was a master at keeping old vehicles alive by careful management, such as double clutching and slowing down well ahead of a potential stop in order to spare the brakes. He was always ready to transport family and friends, regardless of distance or hour. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In 1999 an epic trip was made to Waterloo, Ontario, to pick up daughter Nienke complete with partner, baby and two cats. Chris was also the go to driver who drove co-grandfather Ernie Blakemore to his many medical emergencies, often in the middle of the night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chris was always interested in the goings on of the world and had a great sense of humor. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">He will be missed by Ien, his wife of 53 years, daughter Nienke (Demetreus Blakemore) and son Alex, grandson Keevan Blakemore, co-grandmother Pat Blakemore, nephew Tim Peper and family in Bears Paw, AB and sister Liesbeth in the Netherlands.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A special thanks to the wonderful staff at Minto House who made his last months as bearable as possible.</span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-24691258804883093362018-06-11T17:28:00.001-07:002018-11-05T13:44:39.826-08:00 Testing, testing...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">My blog writing has fallen by the wayside the last few years. The world has seen plenty of craziness to rant on about and I have read interesting books to review. Gardens have been planted and photographed. Life has unfolded.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Lack of material or desire is not the issue. I enjoy writing and I like having the record of past deeds and thoughts. Not quite a diary, but sort of. The real reasons I have not kept up are several. There is my style of blogging. My friend Melanie, one of those people who has a clear head and Gets Things Done, tosses off a post in one fell swoop and goes on with the day. She may correct a typo but that’s it.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Mine are done in drips and drabbles. A post on a topic may take weeks or months. Sometimes I feel like holding forth on a topic, note down a few paragraphs, and then run out of steam. The post may languish in draft for months or even years till the mood strikes again, or the topic is once again in the news. I need to be able to edit. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Then there is Facebook, that evil black hole. I spend way too much time there, driven by my serious case of Compulsive Comment Disorder. On the plus side genuine friendships have been made or deepened there. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: large;">Last but not least, ever since the arrival of the iPad most of my internet time takes place hanging out in a comfortable chair with a tablet instead of at a desk. Blogger is not that Apple friendly. There is an app but it has limits. So here is a trial post to see if this works: Compose post on iPad Pages first, then copy to blogger. </span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-62068258154136654382017-07-30T11:42:00.001-07:002017-07-30T11:42:39.475-07:00Ien is not Einstein<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">I promised a new blog reader that I would explain my weird name, so here goes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">In daily life I go by Ien, not Ieneke. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">It is pronounced to rime with Green and spelled Eye Ee En. A clever friend once remarked that she remembered the spelling by saying to herself that Ien is not Einstein. I have used that line a lot. Thanks Carol! Of course it only works if people can spell Einstein. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">My birth certificate from long ago and far away announces the arrival of Ieneke. The name is usually spelled Ineke. My mother insisted on the extra e, otherwise "it looks so bare". The suffix -eke-, both e's unaccented, is a dimunitive. Names with that ending were popular back then. A cousin and my best friend were Anneke. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">Usually an 'eke' baby would have a more formal official name, like Anna for Anneke. Not me. No middle name either. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">The name has no meaning. It is dimunitive for Ina, which itself is just the ending of other names.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">Three years later my brother Jaap received both his paternal grandfather's names. Jacobus Johan. When the twins arrived five years after him, unexpected by not less loved for that, the parents took the opportunity to honour all remaining grandparents and themselves. The youngest brother and sister each got three names. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">I suspect a touch of the Aspie spectrum in my makeup. Aspies do much better as grownups than as children. At school, where I was an awkward, unpopular child I was Ieneke. At home, where I was safe and loved and at ease I was Ien. Eventually I ditched the 'eke' part. I do NOT like to be called by it. So why is it back on Facebook and other internet places? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">Blame English and the quirk of fonts. A capital i often looks like L. I got tired of being mistaken for a man named Len or a weird spelling of Ian. Somehow no one ever thinks Ieneke is a guy. Not that I have anything against men, but I am not one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">Having your name misspelled or mispronounced is a hazard of of being an immigrant. No problem, it is a price I am happy to pay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: medium;">But, you asked me to explain my weird name, so now I did.</span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-80777973235330088092017-06-07T05:13:00.001-07:002019-12-27T19:29:53.836-08:00Life, the next stage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Good grief, talk about procrastination! In February I wrote this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Well, here I am, with the house all to myself. A few weeks ago Chris was taken to the local extended care facility. I am almost ashamed by how much I am enjoying the freedom. In many ways I have been living alone for more than a year anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Then in April this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am finally writing this in my hotel room at the tail end of a satisfying mini vacation. That blog with pictures will wait till the next post. (I never did that)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is now June.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">About that next stage. After January Chris's condition deteriorated rapidly. He started needing more help with activities of daily living and had a few falls. I did not mind helping, and would even have been willing to have a hospital bed in the living room if necessary, but I am useless with not enough sleep. Sorry, just cannot do it. I usually sail through cold and flu season but caught a mean bronchitis this year. In consultation with the visiting health nurse it was decided that it was time to put Chris on a waiting list for extended care. I was warned that it might take some time and that we had to take the first bed in the district that became available, even if that was hours away. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Well. We have been incredibly lucky. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Since February 12 Chris has been living in Minto House, the local extended care facility. Nobody wants to spend their last years in a facility, but if you have to be in one it does not get better than the one in our village. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I was even spared the difficult task of explaining the move. Communication with someone who is both deaf and has bouts of dementia is incredibly frustrating. It went like this. I had been out grocery shopping for exactly one hour, and came home to find Chris flat on his back on the floor in the hallway. I managed to get him up, probably the wrong idea but nothing seemed broken. He seemed squirmy afterwards, not dozing off in his comfy chair as usual. When he did not touch his lunch I knew something was wrong. I called the clinic to see if home visits were an option. Not. Oh, did I mention that this was the snowiest part of a snowy winter? Fortunately we had just been plowed out but there was no way to get Chris into a car. The clinic told me to call an ambulance. They came, sirens and all, conferred, and decided that four lifters were needed to get Chris down the steps and into an ambulance. So another vehicle was called up. It was quite dramatic! Chris was taken to hospital where he was later diagnosed with pneumonia. He had barely been coughing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The next day I was snowed in again. I had begged the hospital to please keep Chris in care for a few days so I could rest, but what do you know: on Friday a bed became available in Minto House, just like that! Minto House is part of the hospital. Of course it was tough and bewildering for Chris in the beginning, but after a few weeks he settled in. He is now wheelchair bound, increasingly stiff, and there is no way he could get the care he needs at home. In the beginning I spent large chunks of every day there but it has become clear that is not necessary. Of course I visit, but only for an hour and I no longer feel guilty if I skip a day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So here I am, 90% free to join the single sisterhood, free to change things in the house and on the land, a new stage of life. Ah, the choices! Of course all important decisions have to be made on the basis of insufficient data. The most important factor is my own health. Then there is the possibility of really bad sh#t happening in the world. Am I spending too much time with 'collapse porn'? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On a good day, which is most days, I imagine myself staying on the land for another decade, perhaps inviting people to join in some way, perhaps starting chickens again, or making some income with bedding plants, or body work, and earn enough to spend some time in warmer places in winter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On a bad day I might just skip the little house in the village stage, sell out, move straight into seniors' housing and do nothing but get old.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">For starters, no matter what happens in the next decade, whether I leave the land sooner or later, things have to be tidied up. The log cabin that Chris built is doomed, sniffle. This means contacting B.C. Hydro and having the main powerline go to the mobile dwelling instead of the old house.</span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-81869480526407549252017-01-15T18:30:00.002-08:002017-01-15T18:30:56.767-08:00Winter in the Shire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Facebook is full of photos of friends and acquaintances spending time in colourful warm places. Mexico, Africa, Thailand, New Zealand....I am stuck here but I don't mind too much. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If this is the view from where you are stuck, how can you complain? </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4OlAw0MLphU/WHaAtMyThJI/AAAAAAAAEj4/zjUXz9d4l4w2vTDEiBdc0PPB769xDWysACLcB/s1600/Saddle%2Bthrough%2Bsnowy%2Btrees.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4OlAw0MLphU/WHaAtMyThJI/AAAAAAAAEj4/zjUXz9d4l4w2vTDEiBdc0PPB769xDWysACLcB/s640/Saddle%2Bthrough%2Bsnowy%2Btrees.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">he Shire is enjoying a nice winter. We have enough snow to make everything white and bright and fluffy, but not enough to make us worry about structures collapsing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It has been cold enough to leave the snow on the trees and make the snow squeak beneath your feet, but not so cold it paralyses you. Day time temps between -5 and -13 during cold snaps. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If this were the good old days Chris would be able to keep up with maintaining the driveway. Those days are gone, and I am too lazy, so we pay a friend who comes around with a machine (tractor? bobcat?) and are glad to do it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We had some pipe freezing scares when the first cold snap hit before we had a good snow cover. Seeing the last water trickle out of your tap on a cold winter morning is no fun, though we have coped with it befor</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">e. Thanks to my wonderful friend and barter buddy Rick disaster was averted. I thought I had been on top of things. Avoiding this was the reason I had made sure the fallen down, rodent-shredded insulation in the pumphouse was replaced way back in April, right? Thanks to Richard Young for taking on that horrid task.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9yv2fZO-caE/WHaAI3KECWI/AAAAAAAAEjw/p_4RiIFGfT0V6plE9zFj9KP2oxH0wpUXQCLcB/s1600/Richard%2Bwith%2Bgarbage%2Bpile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9yv2fZO-caE/WHaAI3KECWI/AAAAAAAAEjw/p_4RiIFGfT0V6plE9zFj9KP2oxH0wpUXQCLcB/s640/Richard%2Bwith%2Bgarbage%2Bpile.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Rick helped to surround the</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">shed with Tyvek just before winter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Rick came to my aid twice, the first time to reset the pressure switch on the pump and lift the intake, a week later to diagnose a frozen pump. I thought the baseboard heater would be sufficient but as Rick pointed out that the pump sits below the heater and warm air rises, DUH. When it gets really cold extra heat is still needed. It was provided and Rick fixed the door as well so it won't let cold air in. I am so grateful that handy man likes Reiki and acupressure! We dare Jack Frost to his darndest now. Of course, if the power goes out for a long time all bets are still off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So far, so good. Power outages mainly happen when wind storms or heavy wet snow cause trees to fall on the overhead lines. The occasional blackout forces us to appreciate our army of energy slaves. Most of us can do with a reminder that we are spoilt rotten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Should a blackout happen I am prepared for a siege. We have ample stashes of water as well as a clean garbage pail to melt snow in. The pantry and freezer hold enough food for weeks. There are candle thingies, LED lanterns, lots of batteries, camping ways to cook and now an indoor-safe emergency propane heater to stave off the worst of the cold. The setup is n</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ot as good as the barrel wood heater with the flat top we enjoyed in the log cabin years but it will do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On top of all that my next door neighbour made sure I had her cell phone, even though we are not close friends. I am telling you, this is a good place. Let it snow.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It has been colder than we are used to, but also sunnier. This is a trade off I am glad to make. We got less of the dreaded "flat cloud", though there are still days when we are socked in and it is brilliant elsewhere. In this picture from downtown Nakusp you can see both the cloud cover and the glimmer at the edges.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0Zy6uFFdIw/WHWeqCDiSdI/AAAAAAAAEjA/Aa0sLcsNVRIPJz5fA4FKDOMhj9MGx2HfACEw/s1600/IMG_0666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T0Zy6uFFdIw/WHWeqCDiSdI/AAAAAAAAEjA/Aa0sLcsNVRIPJz5fA4FKDOMhj9MGx2HfACEw/s640/IMG_0666.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Below, top of Saddle mountain poking through valley cloud in late afternoon.</span><br />
<img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-ajL_VPCDw/WHWebG4_rII/AAAAAAAAEi8/1KglD9WdRjEbMKzjLE-Tl2IwyshzDecTgCLcB/s640/IMG_0704%2B%25281%2529.JPG" width="640" /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Even just running into the village for errands is a visual treat. I usually make it a loop, going in one way and returning another. The village is visible just a bit further along the road on but you cannot stop there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On the way home over Brouse Loop. I don't care how often I see this, it makes me go go Wow every time. It was very cold with wind chill, I didn't even feel like getting out of the car.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And to help me enjoy the good winter the offspring surprised me with snowshoes in the mail! All in all, it may not be Hawaii or Cancun, you won't hear me whine about the season.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-40350239884683057422016-12-25T14:31:00.001-08:002016-12-26T11:44:37.104-08:00So this was Christmas, again.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Once again Christmas was a total non event, but this time I felt quite relaxed and not tearful about it. Old man is going downhill fast, no details. Let us just say that daily life with a progressive neurodegenerative disease aggravated by deafness is challenge enough without me doing a number on myself about creating special whatevers. In contrast to previous years when I would still attempt to make special food this was just another Sunday. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Being a caregiver is a great excuse, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I did watch the Dr. Who Christmas special, which I found disappointing, trite and Americanised. I was too tired to stay up for The Husbands of River Song, which I wanted to see. River Song is my favourite Whovian character, followed closely by the lizard woman.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">As mentioned before I admire people who make festive things happen, with decorations and lights and special cooking and so on, but I have never been good at it. Even when it was still fun I always heaved a sigh of relief on Boxing Day. We could</span><span style="font-size: large;"> eat leftovers and relax while the kids were busy with the new toys.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Last year we had our fellow grandmother over and got a skype tour of the new home shared by our daughter and her son. That was nice. The year before was a non event but not nearly as bad as 2013. This year I was 90% OK. The brief exchanges with my fellow humbuggers on Facebook who were in the same boat were fun.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Just for my own reference I collected all Christmas related blogs in one space.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2007/11/a-holiday-proposal.html">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2007/11/a-holiday-proposal.html</a></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2007/12/merry-christmas-from-taoist-pagan.html">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2007/12/merry-christmas-from-taoist-pagan.html</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2007/12/rant-against-rudolf-red-nosed-reindeer.html">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2007/12/rant-against-rudolf-red-nosed-reindeer.html</a></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2011/12/how-our-dutch-family-got-into-english.html" style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2011/12/how-our-dutch-family-got-into-english.html</span></a></span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-2223724786584787672016-10-16T11:09:00.002-07:002016-10-21T22:25:59.027-07:00Goodbye Thing. Hallo Margie!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Letting Go is a part of this stage of life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Stuff, people, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">abilities,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and finally physical life itself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But let's start with stuff. We have lived in the same place for 35 years without interruption, longer if you count the tipi/log house years. So much stuff! Much of it was in disrepair but still clung to because you never know, it might come in handy some day. We all have different categories we do that with. Mine is books and garden supplies like plant pots and chicken wire. The husband's was vehicles and parts for them. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sadly, his driving days are over. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I miss our trips with the motor home, which gave us so much pleasure. We used to call it "The Thing". I had almost forgotten that. Below, Chris enjoying dinner on the aborted spring trip in 2008.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Dear Thing had been parked in place since the brief trip to the Sweet Grass Hills in September 2010, when we had limped home with brakes that wanted to seize up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The joy of having a unit the size of a Toyota truck is that you can easily tuck yourself into free places for the night. Above, on a small pullout along the Okanogan river near Tonasket, WA.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Thing was no spring chicken when we got her in the spring of 2004. The unit dated from 1982. Her inside was in beautiful shape and all systems worked. But still, we were no strangers to mishaps and tow trucks. Below, being towed into Ritzville </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">in 2008. Earlier we had been towed into High Level, Alberta (2006) and spent 5 days waiting for a part in Dease Lake in 2007. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After the brief trip to the Sweet Grass Hills she was parked on a level spot and served as guest cabin. Sister Margreet considered it her private summer home.</span><br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UhaBdvwl40A/WAUZxwneLkI/AAAAAAAAEbE/nuw9ol58DAYanwe25R6dobHN5lDw1_t-ACLcB/s1600/Hup%2BHolland%2BHup%2521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UhaBdvwl40A/WAUZxwneLkI/AAAAAAAAEbE/nuw9ol58DAYanwe25R6dobHN5lDw1_t-ACLcB/s640/Hup%2BHolland%2BHup%2521.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here she is in the summer of 2008 during some soccer championship. When she received her diagnosis of inoperable lung cancer in 2011 a final stay here was high on her bucket list. She came in October of that year, and we made the most of the bittersweet time. Her favourite activity was retreating together to her quarters to play the board game "Globe Trotters" in the evening after dinner. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Bouts of vigorous competition were alternated with visits to memory lane, hysterical laughter, and unflinching talks about her impending death. I still miss my sister a lot. I often imagine the phone calls, laced with black humor, that we could have shared about life with dementia. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Brother Jaap and sister in heart Marielle camped in it with pleasure during their stay in the fall of 2014. But otherwise Thing just sat there, looking ever more sad and neglected. It was time to let it go. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I did not think it was possible to drive it anymore, so I put it on the Nakusp Communicator Facebook page as potential guest quarters for $900. I figured whoever took it would have to spend some money getting it towed away. Response was instant. The couple who came for a look fell in love with the compact size and functional interior just like we had done. What's more, Bud is a fixer, and he wanted to get her going.</span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MMgfoaUVVGQ/WAq2dlZkqcI/AAAAAAAAEcA/2vynpBlef1klebUoOIP88dcOITcRPwP5gCLcB/s1600/Bud%2Bworking.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MMgfoaUVVGQ/WAq2dlZkqcI/AAAAAAAAEcA/2vynpBlef1klebUoOIP88dcOITcRPwP5gCLcB/s640/Bud%2Bworking.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It took a few days of going back and forth, but miracle of miracles, he did it! Below, the coming and going man. Bud was kind enough to include Chris in the test drive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While all this is going on Darlene told me they are in the habit of naming their vehicles, and how about naming the new toy after us? Ien is no name for a car, nor is Chris. But what about Margreet? Margie! We both liked it. I get a bit teary by the thought of commemorating my sister in this way. Margie left us under her own steam. This final picture is blurry, because she is moving!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, courtesy of Facebook and Darlene Mcintyre-Adair, Margie in the glory of her new lease on life on a beach near Nakusp. It gives me such pleasure to see this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Goodbye dear Thing, and thanks for all the pics.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-4834207984648023372016-10-08T16:55:00.001-07:002019-02-14T12:28:52.184-08:00Giving thanks in challenging times.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">It has been ages since I posted anything on this blog, the one for my private life minus garden. The garden has its own blog, I am that fanatic. I am just learning to work with an app that allows me to blog on the iPad, so I hope to get around to it more often. Winter is around the corner and I still want to finish some memory pieces, just for the fun of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">Today is Thanksgiving weekend in my part of the woods. It is my favourite holiday. In the past I would often have a dinner gathering featuring food from the land. If the garden yielded only one pail of potatoes, Thanksgiving is when they would be served. In the years we had chickens the whole meal might be homegrown. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">This year there is not much sense in having company over. My husband has been declining for some time and is now very frail and increasingly incapacitated. He was never quite the same after the car accident of July 2012, even though he suffered no physical damage. I have often wondered if the accident was cause or consequence of his decline. It turns out to be the latter, most likely. Chris has been diagnosed with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, an evil cousin of Parkinson's. Parkinson's is bad enough, but there are medications. Nothing can be done for PSP. It comes with Alzheimer's type brain damage and some eye problems for good measure. On top of that he is quite deaf, so having company is more stress than pleasure. Ergo, no dinner party. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">Nevertheless there is much to be thankful for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful that we live in paradise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">The natural beauty that surrounds us is a daily source of joy. I can garden. The activity keeps me sane. Right now freezer and pantry are bulging with home grown produce. It is questionable whether the garden really saves money. But as I never cease to point out, I could have chosen bingo or golf as a hobby, and gardening is cheaper than therapy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful we own our home, ramshackle as it may be, free and clear. We may be low income but we have no debts. We do not have to worry about being forced to move because our rented home is being sold out from under us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful that we live in peace, in a safe society with a social safety net. Who knows how much longer that will be the case? For now it is here for us. Wonderful home support workers come in on week days to do exercises with Chris, to help him maintain strength as long as possible. I can still leave for a few hours, but respite care is available at a week's notice if I need to go out for a whole day, at a month's notice if I need a few days. We are benefiting from a new program that aims to keep seniors safely at home. We have had a bar installed in the bath and will soon have a rail by the stairs, all at minimum cost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful my husband is not given to wandering away. This can be a real worry with dementia patients. The increasing stiffness and balance problems make a small walk down the driveway a major undertaking. No fun for him but easier on me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful his delusions are not driving him to violence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful he is still able to shower and dress by himself. This may change soon. We will cross that bridge when we come to it. I am grateful he is not in major pain. Perversely, because nothing can be done for Chris we do not have the stress of running around on the medical mill, going out of town to doctors. I am grateful for that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful I have been feeling fine and feel up to the task most of the time. If and when I will have to deal with interrupted sleep all bets are off. I cannot function on too little sleep. That is another bridge to be crossed in time, as is the possibility of scary results from the colonoscopy booked for early November.*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful my children are thriving in Metro Vancouver and are great friends. I am grateful for social media that allow me to share a sense of their daily life without being an intrusive needy pain in the neck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful for Dear Little Sir Echo, the Toyota. I even enjoy shifting gears again, though the fifth gear is still a challenge. I am grateful for a good honest mechanic shop where I will be not be ripped off in spite of my ignorance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful for barter partners.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">The shed around the well has been surrounded by Tyvek, the electric stuff has been checked and fixed. The sign at the base of the driveway looks great again. There is a gate in the North fence of the garden. There is delicious organically grown cherry juice in the pantry. All this in return for body work, which I love doing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful for electricity. Heating the place to keep emaciated spouse comfortable costs a bundle but so far we have the money. Light and heat at the flick of a switch or turn of a knob is wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful for the internet. Life is circumscribed right now but the world comes into the house, and I get to socialise without leaving home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">I am grateful for audio books and podcasts, which provide entertainment and education while I do kitchen work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">There is probably more, but that is it for now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">Happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Canadians. No matter what is happening in our lives, we are fortunate to live in this country.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">*Update December 1. The colonoscopy was done, and I am fine. Phew! Chris stopped daring to shower alone, but has no problem letting our wonderful Angelita help him. He still insists on doing his own laundry. We continue to take things a day at a time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Update spring 2017</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Chris took a sharp turn for the worse after January. He started falling occasionally and frequently needed help going to the bathroom. In consultation with the visiting nurse we put him on the waiting list for extended care. I hardly ever get sick, but this winter I got a mean bronchitis, probably as a result of interrupted sleep. Chris ended up being hospitalised with pneumonia, and while he was there a bed opened up in the lovely small facility right here in our own village. It is attached to the hospital, which is more like a first aid post, really. We were so lucky. Some people wait months for a bed and may have to settle for one in a distant location. It is hard on Chris but has been a godsend for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">*Final update. Till Death do us part.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;"><a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.com/2018/08/">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.com/2018/08/</a></span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-52464201074208985332016-04-20T12:50:00.001-07:002016-04-21T09:08:43.159-07:00Back to the juicer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This is one of those boring posts I write by way of personal diary.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I said I would be back at the farmers market. I lied. I have been feeling perfectly fine some days but tired for no reason on others. The stress of living with a spouse in steep decline could explain some of it, but still. I tried some iron pills again, they seemed to perk me up. That was the clue to go for a checkup. Blood was taken and other bodily samples duly delivered to the lab. I was totally surprised to get a message I had a bladder infection, come get some antibiotics. Apart from "old lady bladder" moments of urgency I had no symptoms. However, I figured it beat a return of colon cancer, which had been my main concern. I briefly considered going all natural, then decided "let's just zap this sucker", take the drugs and use cranberry juice to prevent recurrence. Went to see the MD, and found out the FIT sample had been positive as well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The antibiotic, Cephalex, made me feel really miserable. After taking the antibiotic my bladder was suddenly hurting, what weirdness is that? Suggestion? Usually I barely notice the pills. Thank goodness the course was only 5 days and now it is over. I am gulping yogurt and taking a probiotic. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So, there is internal leakage again, and another colonoscopy in my future. I will play along that far. If the internal bleeding is just a matter of a few polyps they can be fixed right there. If there is pressure to go on a course of cut, poison, burn, right now my intention is to refrain except for palliative purposes. I will happily accept the expertise of the medical system when it comes to diagnostics. I will also accept painkilling drugs, should they be necessary. I do not expect doctors to 'fix' me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is up to me to change the conditions in my body/mind that returned to where they were prior to surgery in 2012. During the winter of 2016 I slacked off on the juicing, allowed dehydration to happen and indulged, though only occasionally, in cookies and the odd alcoholic drink. I sat around and gained weight. I believe more important than the lifestyle infractions was the MEH factor. I was not depressed, but not full of joy and zest for life either. Like I said, MEH.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So. Back to juicing carrots, mostly avoiding temptations, and remember to breathe. The exercise takes care of itself, garden season is here. Also, EFT. There is a puritanical streak in the natural health world that I dislike. "What! You had a beer and a burger with fries? Bang bang, you're dead!" A small part of me believes that I had a recurrence coming because I have been thumbing my nose at that. My rational self rebukes it, but EFT helps to get the message of acceptance of self through to deeper layers of consciousness. If it doesn't, it won't hurt.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am 72. A bit young to die but not nipped in the bud either. I am not interested in seeing my remaining time, be it twenty years, twenty months, or twenty weeks made miserable by having a "war on cancer" played out in my body. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Priorities have shifted a bit this summer. No market. Some days the energy is there, some days it is not. I will miss the money but the stress is not worth it. I am getting this place in order, doing some long postponed tidying up, in order to leave as little mess behind as possible if things end up going South faster than we hope. It is good to do that anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today I feel great and full of energy. We shall cherish the day, make it a productive one and stop to smell the hyacinths.</span></span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-23063790401008666022016-03-20T12:10:00.000-07:002016-03-20T12:11:16.493-07:00A brand new immigrant buys underwear.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Just for fun, two short tidbits about buying underwear in my first months in Canada. People expecting titillation because of the title will be sorely disappointed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Someone posted this image on Facebook, which is the heart of my social life these days. </span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PgIsGwCXDGw/Vu7k8PrXUjI/AAAAAAAAEQE/n70DUazlgH0yCWl-BxLfpa0RRDLuMlP-A/s1600/ESL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="546" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PgIsGwCXDGw/Vu7k8PrXUjI/AAAAAAAAEQE/n70DUazlgH0yCWl-BxLfpa0RRDLuMlP-A/s640/ESL.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This brought back the memory of the first time I went to buy a female piece of lingerie in the spring of 1969. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At the time my command of the language was fine when it came to the written word, but I still had to focus in order to listen to the radio.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I could not find the department and had to ask a saleslady. The pronunciation I used was more like the word used to describe the noise of a donkey. The saleslady passed me on to a colleague with the words: "She doesn't speak much English". Oh, the mortification. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A few months later I used my fresh driver's license to make an epic trip through Alberta and B.C. Chris was working in the field near what is now the town of Grande Cache in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains . The town was not there yet. The way to the camp went through wilderness over rough dirt roads. The supervisor had told Chris "If it was my wife I would tell her to stay home." He added that one certainly should not try the roads without four wheel drive, especially if it rained. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When you are 26 three months with only one brief conjugal visit is a long time. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Nobody was going to tell me when I could see my husband.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I loaded the VW bug with a tent and food for a week. I was prepared to set up a distance away from the geo camp and feed myself if I had to. The bug performed like a champ. After a sweet three day visit to the camp, on a river meadow blooming with Indian paint brush and other wild flowers, I struck out again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I had a few weeks to kill before starting graduate school. That is another story. The plan was to cross into B.C. through the Pine Pass. The road led through the town of Dawson Creek, still East of the mountains but in B.C. It was here that the second underwear episode took place. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Looking at the simple white cotton briefs on the counter the sales clerk asked me: "Are these for yourself?" And I was like, HUH? Why do you need to know?? Remember, Alberta has no sales tax. It turned out the panties would be taxed if meant for my own youthful behind, but tax free for anyone under 14.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Learn something every day.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-17672219246844114362016-03-13T10:26:00.000-07:002016-03-13T10:26:37.635-07:00Life choices and cars.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After three wonderful years of glowing health, no money worries and good gardening life is taking a darker turn. As I am fond of saying, the Moon is not always full, the tide not always in. I had the good sense to thoroughly enjoy the bright time just passed, and it is only fair we get our share of the darker aspects of the human condition. As Kurt Vonnegut would say, so it goes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am oh-so slowly learning to only tell my own story, so details about other people are minimal. Let us just say that age is biting the spouse hard, which is not unfair in someone's eightieth year. A few years ago I wrote a blog about labour divisions in the empty nest. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2011/12/you-hunt-i-gather-division-of-labour-in.html">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2011/12/you-hunt-i-gather-division-of-labour-in.html</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Put it this way: these days I have to do the hunting as well as the gathering, and it is taking some adjusting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In some ways ways I have been a spoilt rural woman. I have been quite happy letting Old Dutch look after snow removal, the water system, the car and the electricity bills.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now that it is up to me there were some tough decisions to make, and I spent the winter in a fog of indecision. Cars played a large role in various dilemmas.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The cherished 1995 Subaru Legacy has given us almost 9 years of loyal service. It had enjoyed a sheltered life in it's youth. When we got it it was 12 years old but only had 75.000 km on it, and was in perfect shape. I loved that car.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is now a special needs car. Parts are getting hard to find. This posed serious dilemmas. Pay for repairs to eke another year out of it? Replace it? Go car free? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If we lived in the village I would do the latter in a heartbeat. D</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ilemma, dilemma. On short dark winter days when energy is low the car free option was quite appealing. The things eat money. Just hunker down and stay home. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We could use the bus when it is available and help my best friend maintain her car in return for occasional transport.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is not just about cars. It is about life being open with possibilities and professional development or giving up and letting old age close us in. With the dear old lady on her last rusty legs, or wheels rather, I have been limiting trips into the village to once, at most twice a week. Apart from being hesitant to venture into traffic I did not dare to take it much farther afield in case it would give up the ghost far from home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Without my own car I cannot attend the farmers' market as a vendor or make home visits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I had been wondering if I should go to market or not, if I should invest in new gift certificates and brochures, do some publicity, some more learning, or just stop and retire from being a reflexologist. Instead of working to earn extra income and start driving out of town more I could just stay home and focus on being (even more) frugal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am happy to report the die has been cast in the direction of opening to possibilities.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Behold the perfect for me car! It is a 2004 Toyota Echo.</span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gi4ZqXT7imc/VuWTgfq1uLI/AAAAAAAAEKY/y-Hwj5HjQZ8b0NynTKYkEVWfPc1XJ05VA/s1600/IMG_2207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gi4ZqXT7imc/VuWTgfq1uLI/AAAAAAAAEKY/y-Hwj5HjQZ8b0NynTKYkEVWfPc1XJ05VA/s640/IMG_2207.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I used to be quite hung up on on needing four wheel drive and loved the Subarus. But then I remembered something. If the roads are so bad that 4wd is a must I have the option to stay home, duh!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I first heard about the Echo when a</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> reflex client/friend showed up with one. In spite of not having four wheel drive it made it up our driveway every time, through mud or snow. I loved the compact size and super fuel economy. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I had barely started investigating when I saw the classified ad for this car at a price I could afford. Called the number right away, left a message with the male voice on the machine. Who should call back but my old friend, who I had not seen since she retired and moved away. It is her car! It has been impeccably maintained by its only owner. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I went online to check the average life span of an Echo. The answer: not known yet. If looked after properly they keep on trucking well past 400.000 km.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now I will have to focus on getting some work in order to pay for it. That takes care of one dilemma. Market, here I come! Best of all I will be free to make some fun trips without breaking the bank or worrying about getting stranded. There are some fabulous nurseries in the Slocan Valley. Who knows, with practice I might start driving in cities again. Vancouver is a stretch but one can dream, and practice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here is a toast to open doors.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-66367307916750567862016-02-24T11:06:00.000-08:002017-06-20T10:01:16.614-07:00Local dilemmas.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Open letter to Mayor and Council of Nakusp</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.vancouversun.com/news/metro/tiny+western+toads+economic+environmental+squeeze+village/11740880/story.html">http://www.vancouversun.com/news/metro/tiny+western+toads+economic+environmental+squeeze+village/11740880/story.html</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Dear Mayor and council,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Quite frankly, what with a bad economy, climate change, wars, refugees and so on, the plight of the Western Toad has not been high on my agenda. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When I received a call to please support the fight to save the wee beasties' habitat the cynical voice of George Carlin popped into my mind. "Save the whales! Save those snails!" Believe it or not, but my first words in reply were: "Nakusp loggers are an endangered species too." I have been in this area a while. The inner redneck has been growing at the expense of the original semi hippie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I promised the caller I would do my bit after listening to a radio interview and reading the newspaper. The interview did not portray us as badly as I had expected, and the Valley Voice gave me the impression that NacFor had done a lot of due diligence. I left it at that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">HOWEVER!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Publicity is mounting. Both CBC radio and the Vancouver Sun are going on about the issue. This is bad publicity a tourist area can hardly afford. I understand the proposed logging will only provide work for a few weeks. A well organized and publicized Toad Fest on the other hand could provide a much needed stimulus to the tourism industry, which is a mainstay of our economy these days. I also understand the studies undertaken concern hibernation of the adult toad, while the habitat is critical for the little ones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Nobody is calling for an end to logging per se. The industry has come a long way since the days of massive clearcuts. The area in question is relatively small. Does it really make sense to spend tax money on culverts underneath the highway and then log the place that culvert is going to? Shame on the provincial government for not letting its right hand know what its left hand is doing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As local council you are in a "damned if you do and damned if you don't" position with political fallout no matter what. I hope you can find it in yourself to take the long view. Think of a century from now. On one side of the scale, a few weeks worth of work that could be found somewhere else. On the other side, another endangered part of the great web of life that sustains us all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">With the greatest respect for our hard working people in the woods, it looks like a rethink of this one particular job makes more sense than "Damn the toads, full speed ahead". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I look forward to an expansion of Summit Lake park, a future Toad Fest to rival the garlic one, AND a thriving locally owned forestry industry. One can dream.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ien van Houten</span></div>
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-6770091609457073862016-02-13T23:42:00.000-08:002016-04-17T21:29:51.037-07:00Two love stories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A post for Valentine's day, different from my usual more cynical input.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One of the perks of being a Home Support Worker was learning the life stories of fascinating people. These two love stories really happened. The protagonists of the first one are long gone and there are no close relatives. I am pretty sure "Felix" would love to be so remembered. The second story is shared with permission of son and daughter in law. Even so I feel more comfortable not using real names.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Hearing these stories was a true privilege.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The first time I met Felix his beloved wife had just died and he </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">was a lost soul. A </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">soft spoken gentleman who loved nature and books he</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> lived in a tiny airstream trailer in a beautiful spot by a small lake. The kind neighbour who owned the property kept an eye on him. I was sent in to help with basic housecleaning and some meal preparation. We quickly developed a routine of getting the chores done so we could get to the important part: Twinings Earl Grey brewed properly by Felix in a Brown Betty pot, to be enjoyed with Peak Frean biscuits and serious chat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Felix' start in life had taken place in Victoria, B.C. in 1910 or 11. He remembered being devastated by the death of his mother when he was 9 years old. The little boy and his mother were both sick with the Spanish flu and were being nursed in the same bed. He lived, she died. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Felix was doing some kind of clerical work when he met "Annie". She healed the loneliness he had felt ever since his mother's death. Annie must have been something special. Not long into their relationship she informed her suitor that she did not intend to become a housewife or have children. What she wanted to do was "mess about with boats." So they did!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Somehow this city couple managed to transform themselves into fisher folk. They spent m</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ost of their working life living on their own boat on the glorious coast of B.C. To get an idea of their life on board read "Fishing with John" by Edith Iglauer. John had been a friend. After retirement they enjoyed some blissful years in the airstream trailer by the lake. Compared to the ship it was spacious! They lived simply, not needing much beyond the natural beauty, the neighbours and each other. A highlight was the weekly trip to our wonderful local library. When Annie lay dying she took her husband's hand and said "It's been a great adventure".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> "Paul" and I shared a home town. He had moved to Canada from Amsterdam as a young man in 1929, forty years before we did. His sisters sang in the Amsterdam branch of the same choir that had played a role in my grandparents life. Most of our conversations took place in English, but once in a while we'd share some Dutch. A particular pleasure was inventing phrases consisting of the most unpronounceable Dutch words. Dutch speakers can find them in the footnote.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The routine we adopted was getting the noisy vacuum cleaning out of the way first, so Paul could put on music while the rest of the cleaning got done. We both loved Edith Piaf, and Paul taught me to appreciate American musicals. I always think of him when I hear a song from Oklahoma. Somewhere between music and Dutch jokes his love story got shared. It is romantic enough for a Valentine's day post.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When young Paul told his father that he wanted to emigrate to Canada to become a farmer his father wisely suggested that he should work</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> on a Dutch farm first. Take the time to see if the life style really agreed with him. Paul duly spent a year on a farm in the Eastern part of the country. You guessed it, there was a farmer's daughter. Several in fact, but Paul became most friendly with the one who was only 12 at the time. Let's call her Maggie. After Paul moved to Canada they wrote back and forth for some years. When Maggie turned 16 Paul broke off the correspondence. He enjoyed the contact but he worried about it "not being fair to her". Those were his words, decades later. He did not want her to miss chances to meet available boys. Some years passed, tough depression times. Enter WWII. Paul, still single, joined the Canadian army and was part of the liberation of his native land. He was even billeted with his own father at the end. On a whim he decided to go visit the farm where he had lived before he emigrated. And there was Maggie, still unmarried! She had cried for months after Paul stopped writing and never found anyone who she liked as much. The rest is history. One more war bride! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Footnote. Say can you say:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Door de schuifdeur van de bijkeuken van het grachtenhuis dreef de geur van groene gaargekookte spruitjes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Van teveel scheepsbeschuit krijgt men scheurbuik.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Door de verschijning van de politie was de schurk verschrikkelijk geschrokken.</span></div>
Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-71933756732714055372016-01-22T16:25:00.000-08:002016-02-14T00:06:28.029-08:00My seventies show. Christina Lake, part 2 We buy land!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Warning. I am writing this for my own pleasure, not for publication. </span><span style="background-color: white;">I never took many pictures back then. Much of what I did take was destroyed by moisture and mice in the attic of the old house. This will be the verbal equivalent of filling an album with snapshots. </span><span style="background-color: white;">I will shamelessly indulge in as much detail as I remember, which may be boring. Links can provide illustrations. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">The start is here. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2015/12/my-seventies-show-christina-lake-part-1.html">http://freegreenliving.blogspot.ca/2015/12/my-seventies-show-christina-lake-part-1.html</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Going for a walk in a landscape designed for the car often leaves few options. In Christina Lake the choice was Highway 3 or take Fife road uphill and see where it goes. Fife road climbs steeply uphill to a lovely little plateau with some farm houses and fantastic views. One day, in an ambitious mood, I crossed the plateau and continued past the railroad crossing. The road meanders into the hills, and at some point took me to a small old house where people were hanging out in the yard. The same kind of people that we had met at PX ranch. How did we end up visiting? What follows is my memory, which may be faulty. Carol Nye and Roy Leon, please comment with your version!?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Most likely I waved, they waved back or the other way around and I sort of barged in. I don't remember. I do remember we were invited to dinner and went. The house did not have electricity or running water. Cooking was done by wood stove, water was carried up from the creek. The space was divided by hanging sheets to provide extra privacy for the 2 families who shared it. I could not imagine living in it. They were renting the house and acreage for almost nothing, mainly the cost of property taxes. This place was a stop off point. They were planning to stay near civilization, earn some money, and eventually buy a place in the promised land: the area way up North near Telegraph Creek, where they wanted to live without money. Why there? </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It would be far enough away from the main madness when the inevitable collapse hit. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The region is beautiful but harsh climate wise. Years</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> later I met someone who had just left Telegraph Creek after twenty years as a homesteader and market gardener. He had loved it and only left because the grown children had all moved South. It turns out there is a valley in the rain shadow of the Coast Mountains that is like an oasis, lots more sun than Dease Lake, good growing conditions. Fascinating.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Anyway......the very next day the younger of the two women showed up at my doorstep, complete with fat baby boy, in tears, asking for sanctuary, which was provided. We had an extra room in the basement. It turns out she was not quite prepared to see the official house policy of free love acted out in reality by her husband. Things got patched up and I don't even remember the girl's name. Roy and Carol on the other hand became close friends and we are still in touch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This was the second bug placed in my ear about buying land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The first one had come when I picked up a hitchhiker during a three week solo car journey the previous summer, that will have its own blog some time. I picked him up somewhere outside of Vancouver. We were both enroute to Calgary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">By the way, I was incredibly naive. It never occurred to me that offering to take him all the way back and share the accommodation of my tent might be misconstrued in some way. I thought all I had to do was state clearly that I was married and that my geologist husband was in the field to be totally safe. And so I was. Not the slightest whiff of assault anywhere, just pleasant companionship for three days.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Anyway....the</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> young man was an Anglophone from Montreal who had come out West to look at buying cheap B.C. land.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was a revelation to me that most of the immense nature we looked at was in some way spoken for. It had never occurred to me. I thought it was all just there. On the way to Calgary we stopped in Revelstoke so the young man could look at maps and available crown land. Then I thought no more of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Just like in fairy tales the nudges came in three. The third one was an article in McLeans Magazine, late summer of 1970. It went on about how Americans, or rather USA citizens, were buying up recreational land in Canada, especially B.C. I even wrote a short a letter to the editor which was published. It stated that I was more worried about being fenced out of public land than about who owned the fence. Please, make sure we have enough public parks and beaches!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">That was it. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I was in no hurry to start homesteading, but somehow</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> I became obsessed with the notion that we should buy a piece of land in B.C. before it became impossible. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We used the Thanksgiving weekend of 1970 to drive a loop through the Kootenays, up through the Slocan Valley, through Nakusp, North along Arrow Lake and East past Trout Lake, down along Kootenay Lake. Along the way we noted For Sale signs of acreages. We had no money saved up for this, just Chris' good job. I went to the bank in Grand Forks to inquire into loans. All I wanted was information, but the manager insisted he wanted to talk to my husband. We've come a long way, baby. To make a long story short, our limit was $5000. I called the realtors about parcels we had seen and most of them were beyond our reach. Small parcels came with a house, which we did not need, and raw land mainly came in large chunks like 80 acres.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But Oli Bokis in Nakusp mentioned one small acreage that was only $3500, the price our Calgary friends paid that year for a new Volvo. It was ten acres, no house, no utilities, mainly cleared, just an abandoned field on a dirt road off a dirt road a few miles out of the village. We went and took a look. The place was more or less South facing, sloping with flatter benches. The South side of the square opened to a large field, on the other three sides there was Crown land, just woods. The place had a wonderful sense of space and peace, and yet was close to the village. If we absolutely had to we could walk to work, </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">a bit over an hour downhill, longer back home uphill.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We were told honestly that the land was no good for farming, and water could be a problem on this ridge. Chris had taken a course in hydro geology. He borrowed an auger and drilled a hole in the field below us to see where the water table was. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This was fall, after a dry season, as good a time to check as any. He concluded it should be possible to dig a shallow well at the bottom of the land. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The rest, as they say, is history.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-25263203390469834822015-12-30T15:22:00.003-08:002019-09-13T17:17:55.091-07:00My seventies show. Christina Lake, part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Warning. I am writing this for my own pleasure, not for publication. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I never took many pictures back then. Much of what I did take was destroyed by moisture and mice in the attic of the old house. This will be the verbal equivalent of filling an album with snapshots. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I will shamelessly indulge in as much detail as I remember, which may be boring. Links can provide illustrations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Here goes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After a nine months prequel in Calgary our true Canadian life started when Chris got a geology job in Grand Forks, B.C. They were investigating if the historic copper mine of Phoenix still had some life left in it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">He started in January 1970. As mentioned in the very first post in this blog, I got dragged away from the city under protest. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The move to the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Kootenays</span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">is one of the best things to ever happen to me. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am leery of all this goal setting stuff, let alone </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">New Age manifesting</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">. The best things</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> in my life happened in spite of my plans, not because of them.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The first view of Grand Forks had been in the late December dusk, on our way back from the trip to Vancouver where the job search had taken us. There had not been much snow yet. Everything looked grey and dingey. I did not look forward to the permanent move. That all changed the first weekend I took the bus out from Calgary. Chris had found a house to rent in the community of <a href="http://www.hellobc.com/christina-lake.aspx" target="_blank">Christina Lake</a>, 22km to the East. A good snow had made everything look spic and span. I loved it! In early April the courses I was taking at the University of Calgary were finished and I </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">drove the fifties' VW Bug through the Crow's Nest Pass to my new life as a country dweller</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">. I have been one ever since.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRQXMbt0pcU/Vpg5PTsVyfI/AAAAAAAAEG8/R1ncRdrhTV0/s1600/Ferraro%2Bhouse%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRQXMbt0pcU/Vpg5PTsVyfI/AAAAAAAAEG8/R1ncRdrhTV0/s640/Ferraro%2Bhouse%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">1970 was a wonderful summer. We lived mainly in sunshine, surrounded by natural beauty among sweet smelling ponderosa pines. I made some stabs at starting an M.A. thesis but had a clean conscience about not working for pay. Hey, we were in the sticks because of his job, O.K.? We had no money worries and enjoyed exploring the surroundings on weekends. On week days I could just walk to the beach in front of the old hotel, a few blocks from home. It was so quiet back then! I used to get seriously irritated by the sound of a single motor boat, hard to imagine in these days of the infernal jet ski. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">This picture must have been taken in that summer. The VW bug died on a trip over the Santa Rosa road on my birthday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Our neighbours at the base of Fife road happened to be Dutch. Of course we became friends. Jos and Coby came from a small town/rural background. Jos was a carpenter by trade and was building his own house. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is now a stuccoed two story mansion, unrecognizable. At the time t</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">hey were living in the downstairs, a big square box with tar paper and raw plywood still visible on the outside. There was no yard yet. The outside was a level sea of gravel, with the exception of raised bed vegetable plots bordered by logs. Koby was a Maker. Apart from having produced two beautiful small children she sewed her own clothes, grew food, canned it and made wine. These days young women doing the same activities make a big fuss and write blogs about it. Coby was 13 years younger than Jos, petite and lovely. My favorite memory picture of her is this. We are hanging out with a smoke in a summer evening on the logs that bordered the square vegetable patch in the front yard. The kids are in bed and Coby is wearing her lounge for the evening outfit: a sleeveless, bell bottomed wine red jumpsuit with a square neckline that she had sown herself. It beautifully set off her delicate creamy skin. She was years ahead of her time in staying out of the sun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">All these DIY activities were new to me. With their encouragement I hacked away at the neglected garden plot under the trees in our yard. I started too late, had no good soil and too much shade but by golly I produced a few meals worth of snap beans! I was hooked. This was the start of a lifelong passion. I still think of Jos and Coby every time I order my seeds from <a href="http://damseeds.ca/" target="_blank">William Dam</a>, a firm they introduced me to because "they sell kale seeds". This was long before kale, a traditional Dutch and Scottish winter food, gained cult status among hipsters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We got our first whiff of the back to the land counterculture that spring. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">On April 26, on the way back from a Saturday trip to Nelson, we were surprised by a late snowstorm. I made a mental weather note about the date. When we spied two guys with backpacks on the long slope leading out of Castlegar to the Paulson pass it was a natural thing to pick them up and put them up for the night. We fed them brown rice, stir fried vegs and juicy steaks. They were most impressed by the rice and veg part, saying it was just like being home in the commune. They invited us to visit the <a href="https://theland.wikispaces.com/Elia+Sinaiko" target="_blank">PX ranch</a>, so we could see how they lived. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Silly straight people that we were, we </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">took them at their word and used the May long weekend to travel 5 or 6 hours to the <a href="https://theland.wikispaces.com/Elia+Sinaiko" target="_blank">PX ranch </a>near Ashcroft. Our two guys were not there, but after some awkwardness we were invited to stay for a meal and overnight anyway. Did we bring a tent? All I remember for sure is a communal dinner that included the inevitable brown rice and dandelion sprouts that some girls were very excited about. They had walked behind the guys roto tilling a garden plot and "gleaned" them. Their word. It seemed a bit over the top. At some point a girl wearing t</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">he countercultural uniform of long hair, long skirts, plaid shirt and sturdy boots arr</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ived</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> to ecstatic welcoming hugs. She and her backpack had hitchhiked solo from somewhere far away, California? Later, a visit in a dimly lit smaller cabin talking with draft dodgers and deserters from the Vietnam war. In some ways these people were more our intellectual kin than anyone else we had met so far. Anti Vietnam war, aware of the dangers of pollution and so on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">All through the sixties I had become increasingly concerned with the direction the world was taking. The Dutch geology crowd we met in our first months in Calgary was a lot more conservative. I was about to meet the people who would indirectly change my life, but it will wait till the next post.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-65953518990013203462015-12-27T16:53:00.001-08:002019-09-12T21:27:24.959-07:00My seventies show, prologue.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The passage of decades is a funny thing. When one considers adult life as a teenager the imaginati</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">on tends to stall around age 50 at the most. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">From that vantage point adult l</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ife is the quarter century between 25 and 50, a seemingly endless stretch within which all the important things happen. Becoming fully adult, selection of mate, perhaps children, profession and adventure. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> Life beyond middle age is merely a slide into the grave. Old people are Other. One just cannot imagine turning into one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When we are twenty and consider a time thirty years in the past it appears as History, a different epoch peopled by quaint folks wearing funny clothes doing old fashioned things like using dial phones and writing letters. Again, subtly Other. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Children are time made flesh. Without growing children in our daily life it is easy to lose track of the passage of years, nay, decades. A movie may be on my radar as something recent that I intend to see one of these days and by the time I get serious the remake is a classic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The thirties, the decade in which my parents came of age and met each other, has never been anything but history, a time completely sealed off from the present. WWII made that even more so of course. Everything was Before and After. Yet in the fifties, my formative decade, the thirties were only twenty years ago. Here it is almost 2016, and surely the nineties were only yesterday? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The Spanish Civil war was as far removed in time from our tipi years as the tipi years are from the present. It doesn't feel that way. I find it fascinating to see the times of my own life turn into the stuff of imagined history. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is winter, no garden. My future may hold a stint of caregiving but it is not happening yet. Time to start writing some memories down, just for the H of it. </span></div>
Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-66229410245691337452015-12-13T21:28:00.000-08:002015-12-13T21:30:31.292-08:00Nakusp Lights Up.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Some images of the official lighting of the festive lights in the metropolis of Nakusp, pop 1500 without counting the rural area. It really is an amazing village. Precisely because larger centers are all at least 2 hours away people make things happen right here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">How isolated are we? If you live car free in metro Vancouver a trip to Paris is actually easier, as explained in this blog. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://nothernlites.blogspot.ca/2015/11/nakusp-or-france.html" target="_blank">http://nothernlites.blogspot.ca/2015/11/nakusp-or-france.html</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The pictures are not great but I hope they give an idea of the atmosphere.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Below, one of the fire barrels s up along Broadway</i>. Yup, that's what we call our main street.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6pQfd9761ow/Vm4kcDqeWAI/AAAAAAAAECs/b5r7sUCuiSk/s1600/best%2Bbarrel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6pQfd9761ow/Vm4kcDqeWAI/AAAAAAAAECs/b5r7sUCuiSk/s640/best%2Bbarrel.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is shameful how rarely I participate. Events at the library and the summer farmers market are the exception.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Partly it is the dislike of driving after dark. The drive is only ten/fifteen minutes but can be hairy in winter. Great excuse. In truth i</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">nertia is a powerful force and I am happiest at home. No matter how fun a proposed outing is, I always have to tear myself away from my cozy nest and welcome excuses to just stay home. Once out, I usually enjoy myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Below, one of the stalls dishing out food.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am grateful to my best buddy for dragging me out to the annual Light Up happening. In all the decades of living here I have never gone. The parade was too small to make coming out worthwhile, but the atmosphere made up for it. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lY0DYt4BGHs/Vm5G_UzPu3I/AAAAAAAAEDY/ZKv5u7BfzCI/s1600/IMG_2148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lY0DYt4BGHs/Vm5G_UzPu3I/AAAAAAAAEDY/ZKv5u7BfzCI/s640/IMG_2148.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The middle part of main street was given over to stalls and fire barrels. People were happily milling around, eating and drinking and visiting.</span><br />
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<span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4O---vvZsk/Vm5GeLWywJI/AAAAAAAAEDQ/tH2eha-wIWc/s1600/lit%2Bup%2Brow%2Bof%2Bstalls.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4O---vvZsk/Vm5GeLWywJI/AAAAAAAAEDQ/tH2eha-wIWc/s640/lit%2Bup%2Brow%2Bof%2Bstalls.JPG" width="640" /></a></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">The highlight of the happening was a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1aUka3k7h8&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">troupe of fire dancers.</a></span></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;">If I did it right the link should go to a shaky video.</span></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1aUka3k7h8&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank"><br /></a></span></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1aUka3k7h8&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank"><br /></a></span></span><span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1aUka3k7h8&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank"><br /></a></span></span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-19524207245994986412015-10-07T21:24:00.001-07:002015-12-13T21:31:31.895-08:00A workout for the compassion system.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I cannot believe how long ago it was since I posted anything here in the blog for daily life and memories. I plan to write lots of the latter once the outside season is truly over. There is also a long list of half finished rants and reflections on that blog and a shorter list of same on the garden blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But just a quickie here, so I remember this.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I am getting over a cold, or is it a light version of flu? Who knows, who cares. Anyway, a few days of minor discomfort and lack of energy were suffered. I am getting impatient with the up and down nature of recovery that seems to go with this bug. I feel fine when I get up but need a nap every few hours. I really should not complain. I cannot even remember the last time I had a cold. Somewhere I read that it is good for the immune system to get a little workout now and then. I don't know if this is true but it makes some sense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Then it occurred to me that it is good for another human ability to get a workout. Let's call it the compassion system. When one feels no pain and is well rested most of the time it is all too easy to lose sight of<i> </i><b><i>what a struggle life is for the many among us who feel unwell </i></b></span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>all the time. </b></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I have friends who have to do this. Whether it is dealing with the acute pain of rheumatoid arthritis, the life-sapping drudgery of anemia, the horrid combination of fatigue, pain </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and depression that is fibromyalgia, the daily roller coaster of Parkinson's, the constant strain of coping with legal blindness in a visual world, daily life just takes so much energy it is a miracle these people have anything left to give.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yet they do. One smiles through the pain and deals with the public in a demanding professional job. One goes to the tiring, physical job and looks after her special needs child even though she looks forward to going to bed from the moment she gets up. One grits her teeth, does what needs to be done and tries to help friends even though she is in pain, exhausted and depressed. One manages to find joy and gratitude in a restricted life and enriches the world through the beauty of her art. One learned new skills without any help from "the system" and goes to great lengths to go to job sites. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When I am unwell, which is rarely, I am not a nice person.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I just want to be left alone to crawl into my lair until I feel better. I could not do what they do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This little episode is reminding me to bow deeply and send a big wave of admiration to all my struggling friends.</span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4469436682373656280.post-80125355971244910152015-05-13T21:36:00.001-07:002019-09-12T21:43:05.844-07:00Jaap and Hester and Bets and Herman and Heini and Toni, the story of a friendship beyond wars.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I wanted to do this blog around May 4th, as my contribution to the endless goings on around the memory of WWII. We are in the gardens, so this is late. Be patient, the relevant part is coming. First, we are setting the scene.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">For a nature loving city child even an urban back yard was joy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My paternal grandparents lived in The Hague, within walking distance of a beach, on a spacious triangular square [sic] with a large planting of shrubs and flowers in the middle. Notenplein 50 was a ground floor flat. No front yard, the windows of the living room were flush with the sidewalk. Anyone could look in, though people rarely did. I loved the feeling of being both snugly inside and almost outside. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>I thank Shers Gallagher for sending me this picture!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A dear online friend sent me this picture after she read the post. There were no parked cars in my memories.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There was a backyard. It had a small paved section, then a lawn, and in the middle of the lawn a gold reinette apple tree. At the very back there was a chicken coop. I was a fearful child with no pets at home, leery of life forms that possessed teeth, claws, beaks or talons and could not be reasoned with. I have no memory of the chickens themselves. I could not tell you what they looked like and if we actually got eggs from them. But to this day, years after I have kept many a flock for both eggs and meat, the sound of chickens clucking reminds me of waking to the pleasure of being in Opa and Oma's house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Our yard was separated from the neighbours by a sturdy hedge. A small section had been removed on one side, so we could visit Opa's brother's house next door by going around the back, from kitchen door to kitchen door. To a city child this was a delicious bit of country living. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In 1961 I was preparing for the grueling final exams for the Gymnasium. Somehow it was decided I should spend the Easter vacation at Notenplein 50, because the place would provide more quiet for studying. Oma was widowed by this time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The chickens were gone, the apple tree in rough shape. But the gap in the hedge was still there, and in the evenings we would go watch TV with Oom Herman and tante Bets.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is where we get to the title for this post. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">They had company too: long time friends Toni and Heini, who were, gasp! German. We did not know any Germans personally. The memory of the war and occupation was still quite fresh. As my brother said, we were raised to be without prejudice, except for Germans. Though our always fair father admitted there might be some good ones. Mind you, he added you had to bring a flashlight to find them. So here were these nice old people, and it turned out they were friends not only of our great uncle and his wife but of our grandparents as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The three couples had known each other since the twenties, brought together by the same international choir "The Voice of the People", that had led Opa and Oma to practice Danish. Heini and Toni were sweet and simple people without a lot of education. They were certainly no one's embodiment of evil.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Heini was minus one arm, courtesy of WWI. Their only child, a son, had been sacrificed to WWII.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Oma's only sister, who did not have the protection of a gentile husband, had died in January 1945 in Auschwitz. I never realized till much later how close the sisters had been. Rosa was a single mother and worked while my grandmother cared for her daughter. As a child I knew nothing of this and it was never talked about. I did not even know that Oma was Jewish till I was 12. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I wonder now what it had been like for all of them, how they maintained the friendship through the years.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I like the fact that they did. </span><br />
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Ien in the Kootenayshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01766317652520657570noreply@blogger.com7