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Life in BC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All my relations

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No words

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

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

This, sadly, is one such…

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

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

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“I’m a very early riser, and I don’t like to miss that beautiful early morning light”.

David Hockney

I was up early yesterday and this was the view from our windows. Just had to take a shot (or two)…

Not bad…

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Photo by Andy Dawson Reid“The neighbors are drunk and lighting fireworks. It must be Victoria Day!”

Unattributed

This last weekend was a long weekend here in BC (think ‘bank holiday’ should you hail from the UK). This particular one commemorates the birthday of the monarch for whom this city was named – Queen Victoria.

Now – as I mentioned in previous recent posts – having already resigned ourselves to the reality that we would not be traveling anywhere very far in this second year of the COVID, we have also now also had to accept the idea that we won’t be doing major renovations to our home either – given the current outrageous cost of building materials.

This is – to put it mildly – a bit of a bummer and left us feeling somewhat out of sorts and directionless.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidJust at the right time, however, we saw advertised at one of Victoria’s loveliest downtown boutique hotels an enticing  ‘Spend-the-night – Dine-in-room’ deal. We have not stayed at The Magnolia before but we have treated ourselves to its excellent restaurant – The Courtney Room. The restaurant is – of course – currently closed, but the deal (which ran only until the end of May) enables one to indulge oneself in their culinary offerings at a window table in a splendid bedroom, to spend the ensuing night in comfort therein and to do all of this in complete COVID safety.

What is not to love about that?

We visited on the Friday evening and dined splendidly on in-house breads & crackers with roasted eggplant dip and smoked paprika oil – dry-aged Two Rivers burger with aged cheddar and a splendidly fresh salad (for The Girl) – local catch of the day Bouillabaisse (for me) – followed by a Blood Orange Tart (with pumpkin seed frangipane, blood orange marmalade and Wild Mountain honey) and a Meyer Lemon Mousse (with caramelized white chocolate crumb and toasted bourbon meringue). All of which was washed down with a very passable bottle of Savigny-les-Beunes.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidWe watched the sun go down over the inner harbour and for a brief period all seemed right with the world.

The following morning the sun was doing its very best early-summer impression and we got to wander around downtown and to lunch outside one of our favourite predominantly vegetarian restaurant and juice bars – Re.Bar.

Because it would clearly have been a great shame for our splendidly indulgent weekend to peter out on the Saturday we also treated ourselves to some pampering at the lovely Brentwood Bay Spa on the Monday; a relaxing massage for me and a reflexology treatment for The Girl’s most lovely and dainty feet.

All in all a wonderful long weekend, during which it was possible – perhaps for the first time – to imagine what it will be like to emerge on the other side of this grim era.

Time to dream a little…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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“Gardens are not made by singing ‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade.”

Rudyard Kipling

I make no apologies for posting more photos of the garden. This is – after all – its very best time of the year…

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

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Should you feel inclined to glance back over the archives to this blog, paying particular attention to the entries posted at the start of May each year, you will find a pattern; one post each year (at the very least) that looks remarkably similar to that posted the year before… and the year before that…

The reason for this somewhat repetitive annual ritual is simple: each year at around this time I venture forth into the garden and am brought up short by the beauties that nature has taken it upon herself to bestow upon us – quite regardless of the fact  that – but a few weeks prior to the event – the whole thing looked a complete shambles.

All I can do each year is to exclaim – “Wow!” – and to scurry inside again to fetch a camera. I absolutely must take some photos – and absolutely must thereafter post them to this journal for the gentle readers’ delectation.

Enjoy!

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

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This time from the Guardian – who also seem to have a bit of a Canada theme going. Who can blame them?

Hummingbirds halt controversial pipeline

Gotta love those cute little hummers!

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From the BBC:

Canadian beavers take down town’s Internet

 

Oh dear! What can I possibly say?…

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We have been blessed of late – here at the southern end of Vancouver Island – with a spell of good weather. The sun has shone upon our gardens and the temperature during the afternoons has several times crept into the 20s C. This is not expected to continue of course – it is still only April after all – but we have been enjoying it all the same. Next week it will rain!

The Girl – having been suffering a little cabin fever – suggested last weekend that we should go out somewhere for a walk. We have done plenty of such exercise in the immediate vicinity of our home, but getting away to somewhere else completely seemed like a good idea – in the service of our mental well-being.

The Girl suggested Witty’s Lagoon – one of the many bits of Victoria that she knows of old but that I have not yet visited. We duly set out for the southern-most tip off the island on Saturday last – taking the Olympus OM-D with us so that I could share photos with you good folk.

A short walk from the main entrance to the park – as one begins one’s descent to the lagoon – one comes across an excellent waterfall – Sitting Lady Falls. I leave it to the gentle reader to muse upon how that name might have come about:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidThe extensive but shallow lagoon lies behind the beach and is the point at which fresh and salt water come together. The result is a wildlife paradise:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidThe beach itself is unusual for the southern end of the island in that it is sandy; many of them are pebble. As is the case with other similarly located beaches the vista is of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and beyond that the Olympic mountains in Washington State of the US:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPretty (spectacular) – ain’t it?!

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Herewith the long awaited third part of my pair of posts introducing the gentle reader – particularly those out-with Canada – to some of our more – er… extrovert local fauna!

In the last post I introduced you to the bullet-headed Northern Flicker and noted its love of drilling holes in things other than the trees (of which we have an abundance). Just this year – presumably in search of food; or just because they can – the Flickers have taken to drilling large holes (nearly 2″ diameter) in the end wall of my garden shed. I almost wondered if they were indulging in some lumberjack style-competition, so eager were they to turn the shed wall into Swiss cheese.

When they have drilled the holes they seem to lose interest in them – and indeed in what happens to them… and that’s where this little chap comes in. This is a Nuthatch. Nuthatches are also known for drilling holes in things, but they are equally keen to take over a hole that a bigger bird has apparently finished with.

What a cute little bird – I hear you exclaim…

Well – no… he isn’t! He is – if you will pardon my use of the vernacular – a chippy little gobshite! If he played rugby he would undoubtedly be a scrum half – and most likely a Welsh one!

On the Nuthatch Wikipedia offers this:

“The nuthatches constitute a genus, Sitta, of small passerine birds belonging to the family Sittidae. Characterised by large heads, short tails, and powerful bills and feet, nuthatches advertise their territory using loud, simple songs”.

‘Loud’ is they key word here. Now – the Nuthatch may only be about two and a half inches long but he ain’t afraid of no-body… and certainly not of me. Seeing him pulling the insulation out of a hole in the shed wall I remonstrated with the diminutive avian, waving my arms about and inviting him to get out whilst the going was good. Instead he gave me a mouthful back. When I climbed a ladder to see if he was actually building a nest in the hole he simply buzzed around my head uttering a string of what I took to be expletives. When I plugged the hole with something he scarcely waited for my feet to touch the ground before he was tearing it out again.

I was clearly going to have to take some action if I wanted my shed to remain intact. We are hoping to paint it this year but at this rate there won’t be much left to paint. As is my wont I turned to the InterWebNet for helpful guidance. There are many sites offering much advice as to how to deter woodpeckers and other such birds, but the most important of these is the site that advises that none of these methods will actually work in practice – and that the only thing that can be done is to cover the affected areas with bird netting, the which must be strung some three inches away from the surface in question so that the birds cannot reach it.

This takes a bit of work to rig up but I duly did it – all the while the nuthatch sitting a few feet above my head squawking loudly. As soon as I had finished the bird landed on the netting and tried to tear it apart. On discovering that this was not going to be possible the little creature turned a murderous gaze upon me and uttered the birdy equivalent of “WTF!“…

I would have a lot more sympathy with our feathered friends were it not that – the previous owners of the house having clearly been bird lovers – our garden contains within its bounds at least a dozen bird-houses. One of these was about a foot away from the hole that the nuthatch had determined upon.

A pre-owned home is obviously not good enough for these stroppy little birds…

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