passingtime-josie

Well, Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

2008-07-14T15:52:00.000-07:00

Now that I have my wonderful little camera, I'm armed and dangerous. I promised to show you some pictures of my neighborhood, so here they are. I live within walking distance of Kitsilano Beach on English Bay, and here is one of my favorite buildings I walk past as I go to the beach. It always has a beautiful garden in the summer, with roses, hollyhocks and colorful nasturtiums. If you look closely, you can see the water at the foot of the hill, just beyond the beach umbrella.

This lovely house is just around the corner from where I live, and I pass it every day on my way home from work. It is a typical Kitsilano house of the American Craftsman style, which was popular in the late 19th Century and early 20th Century. Kitsilano is made up almost entirely of houses like this, with wonderful porches and attic dorm windows. They give Kitsilano very much a seaside flavor, and they all have English country gardens. Most of them are painted either blue with white shutters, like the house here, or chocolate brown with beige and/or red shutters in the traditional Craftsman style. The original American Craftsman style originated with Frank Lloyd Wright, so it has a good pedigree.

Yes, this is a palm tree, and it is right next door to my house. There are actually two palm trees in that yard, but I took a photo of only one of them, because I didn't want to appear to be bragging. *heh* People still think we wear parkas and walk around on snowshoes in August. No, no, no. We have a very long summer and a very short winter, and some years there isn't much difference in the temperature between summer and winter. Perhaps we might get a bit more fog and rain in the winter, but rarely do we get a lot of snow.

Some of my favorite things about Kitsilano are all the produce markets. I love to shop like an Englishman, buying things daily as I need them. You will never find wilted lettuce or celery in the bottom of my fridge. I buy fresh produce every day, and flowers too. And there are all sorts of meat markets and fresh seafood markets as well. I often have fresh scallops, and I can buy only as many as I need.

Well, you can't leave without seeing a little corner of my sunny terrace on my tree house. On a summer afternoon, it's the best place to be in all of Vancouver. I can put on some jazz, or perhaps Mozart or Beethoven, or Stevie Ray Vaughan, and kick back and relax. Or I'll just listen to the birds in the trees outside my tree house, and feel the sea breeze coming in off the ocean. In fact, I'm headed there right now, as soon as I get off work.

And... just to prove that I am a bona fide long-standing resident of Kitsilano, duly paid up, here are my 15 year-old, well-used Birkenstocks. Yes, I do own Birkenstocks, and yes, I do wear them. They are the most comfortable shoes ever made. You can't be a resident of Kitsilano unless you own a pair of Birkenstocks. Really! They won't let you in if you don't own a pair of Birkenstocks.

So, there you have a little corner of my neighborhood. Stay tuned....

Half Full? Half Empty?

2008-07-13T13:37:00.000-07:00

Summer in Cumberland
James Durden
1925

I love this wonderful painting. It is one of those paintings I can gaze into for hours. I imagine myself in the room, I can feel the summer breeze blowing through the open window, and I can hear the conversation as the three people have a lazy afternoon chat while they enjoy their tea. The fellow outside the window is just passing by, and he stops to join in the conversation with the two women, perhaps his wife and a friend who is visiting her. The friend is feeding a tiny morsel of teacake to the cat. Everyone is relaxed and happy, and for that microcosm of time, everything is right in their world.

Life is made up of microcosms like that, isn't it? How many of us stop to enjoy them? We always seem to look at the big picture, rather than at the tiny moments of time that make up the big picture.

I learned a long time ago that, whether we look at life as a half empty cup or a half full cup, it is a choice we can all make. We can consciously choose how we wish to view our lives and our blessings, whether large or small.

I spent a great deal of time in my life dodging bullets. Anxiety became a permanent part of my psyche. I can still tend to get that way when negative things happen in my life. None of us has smooth sailing every day. We often have work-related difficulties, or financial, or health-related, or inter-personal, or whatever... But when I look back at some of the things in my life that caused me stress, I feel very sad for the person I was then. It's hard to see any joy in life when we're in the eye of the hurricane. But I think if we learn to grab the small moments, savour them, enjoy them, burn them into our brains so we can remember them, we can learn to see the cup as half-full rather than half-empty.

Today is a beautiful summer day in Vancouver, very much like in the painting above. There is a slight sea breeze, the air is warm and soft. A friend has invited me over to share some of her home made coffee cake. We will sit and chat, and laugh, and perhaps we will create another nice memory. Today I think, I hope, my cup is half full.

Making History

2008-07-12T11:48:00.000-07:00

I have always been fascinated by the concept of time travel, and it occurred to me today that photography is a form of time travel. I was looking back through some of my old photo albums, and I was transported to the time and place the photos were taken. There I am on the dock at Sproat Lake, there is my father sitting on the steps with my brother when he was a toddler, there is my grandmother and my grandfather in South Africa on their wedding day. How perfect is that? Through photography, we can glimpse into days long past.

When I was a little girl, I was interested in the history of World Wars One and Two. But rather than just reading about them, I could look at the photographs and walk right into the battle scenes. And I spent many hours journeying into the concentration camps and looking at the horrors there. I remember asking my father, "How could that have happened?" Just recently Phinnaeus asked me the same question.

The camera is our instrument to record our lives for other folks to see in the future. I wonder how future generations, not yet born, will react when they watch the archives of YouTube. I'm sure they will think we were all insane.

I'm so excited, now that I have my wonderful new camera, I can take pictures of my world. I have taken some great pictures of my neighbourhood, and all the things I see along the way. However, I have discovered that the USB port on my computer isn't working, so I can't upload any of the ~~fabulous~~ ~~beautiful~~ pretty good photos I have taken. I uploaded some of them to my computer at work, but that isn't necessarily such a good idea. So if anyone has any suggestion as to how I can get the USB port on my computer fixed, without spending a lot of money, I would love to hear it.

It's a beautiful day today. I have a dentist appointment *sigh* and then I am off to record some history with my new camera. Have a great weekend, everyone.

Two For The Price Of One

2008-07-11T22:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I've got this fabulous new camera, and the USB port on my computer doesn't work. So I have taken all sorts of pictures of my neighborhood, and interesting things I see along my way, and I can't upload any of them. I managed to upload a couple of pictures on my computer at work, but it's not necessarily a good idea to do that.

So now I have to figure out how to get the USB port on my computer working so I can upload pictures. If any of you have any ideas or suggestions - something that doesn't cost a lot of money - I would love to hear them.

In the meantime, it's a fabulous weekend and I'm going to be outdoors experimenting with my new camera.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

Phinnaeus

2008-07-10T20:49:00.000-07:00

I don't normally speak much about my family, for several reasons. I adore the Munchkins; they're as different from each other as night from day, and yet the older they get, the more they seem to get along better with each other. Sometimes I like to sit back and watch the two of them entertain each other. They're both a couple of goofs, and I can see Marigold developing a wicked sense of humor as she gets older.

For some reason, however, Phinnaeus and I have had a special bond with each other since the moment he entered the world. I have often felt he is the reincarnation of my father. Both have red hair, freckles and blue eyes. Both are extremely bright, and blessed with a sense of the ridiculous. Phinnaeus and I understand each other on a level that many people do not. I see him as kind-hearted, sensitive, funny, and intelligent with a wonderful intellectual curiosity.

Phinnaeus phones me every few days, and we chat about anything and everything - sort of a stream of consciousness conversation. We just go wherever our thoughts take us. Usually we end up laughing.

Phinnaeus did extremely well at the end of his school term this year, beating out most of the other kids, and the principal shook his hand. But, like all little boys, he can tend to be a bit of a slob. He's a typical guy, you know. He makes me laugh, because I can see the man he is going to be when he grows up. One day some lucky girl will find him, and I know Phinnaeus will keep her entertained. But he also will be very sweet, loving and empathetic. He's a very kind-hearted little soul.

However.....

Someone in his life recently told him, during a casual conversation, that he has a "touch" (...a touch?) of Asperger's Syndrome. Naturally, Phinneaus in his curiosity researched Asperger's Syndrome and was shattered when he read the medical explanation of the disorder. And he could not see the relationship to him. It did not describe him at all.

From what I understand of Asperger's Syndrome, it is a form of autism. Children with Asperger's are unable to fully communicate with other people on a give and take level. They lack empathy and many of the things they do are done by rote. They cannot understand humor because they have no sense of humor or irony. This definitely does not describe Phinnaeus.

A friend of mine said recently that children are not miniature adults. They are children, and they learn and process everything in their own way. Much of the world is still a mystery to them. I wonder how much we impose our own template on children, and turn them into something they are not. How much of children's quirkiness is simply childish traits and how much is something more ominous? I don't know if Phinnaeus has Asperger's or not. I am not a diagnostician. I only know he and I chat about all sorts of things, including philosophy, politics, religion, art, music, literature, architecture, travel, and so much more. And we laugh. A lot. He can see the humor in anything. I told him that was his blessing, to be able to laugh at the world.

But, my heart breaks for him that he has been told he has Asperger's, and it has changed him. It has made him sadder. And the really sad thing is, I don't think he has it. But that doubt will always be in his mind.

NAIR

2008-07-09T22:36:00.000-07:00

The Women of Amphissa
Sir Laurence Alma Tadema
1887

My neighbor found out her dog could hardly hear so she took it to the veterinarian. He found the problem was hair in its ears and cleaned both ears and the dog could hear fine.

The vet told the lady if she wanted to keep this from recurring she should go to the store and get some 'Nair' hair remover and rub in its ears once a month.

The lady went to the drug store and got some 'Nair' hair remover. At the register, the druggist told her, 'If you're going to use this under your arms, don't use deodorant for a few days.'

The lady said, 'I'm not using it under my arms.'

The druggist said 'If you're using it on your legs, don't shave for a couple of days.'

The lady said, 'I'm not using it on my legs either; and if you must know, I'm using it on my Schnauzer.'

The druggist said, 'Stay off your bicycle for a week.'

Men Have It So Easy

2008-07-07T11:00:00.000-07:00

I sometimes wonder if men appreciate how easy they have it in life? A man can get up in the morning, have a shower and shave (or not) throw on some comfortables clothes - and shoes - and be on his way. There is nothing to pinch or bind or itch any part of his body. Women on the other hand....

Yesterday I went through the ordeal of buying a new bra. I always dread it so much, I wear all mine until they are almost threadbare and don't provide any support whatsoever. It takes a good while for them to become comfortable.

*sigh*

Brassieres were designed by men. The first brassieres were designed to hide women's assets, and eventually brassieres progressed until they became designed to enhance them. Neither type are comfortable.

The list of things women wear to "enhance" their beauty is long and painful.

1. Stilletto heels. Every woman has owned a pair of shoes that reduces her to tears every time she wears them.

2. Mascara. I can't count how many days I have gone through the day with a flake of mascara stuck underneath my eyelid all day.

3. Lipstick. Did you know pearl lipstick is given that silvery sheen by using fish scales? Yes.

4. Skin moisturizers. The material used in moisturizers to create a smoother skin surface and retain moisture comes from cattle or pig brains.

5. Waxing. Enough said.

So, now I have to rush off and get ready for work. I will have my shower, wash my hair, dry my hair with the blow dryer, moisturize my skin, put on my makeup, strap on a very uncomfortable new bra and try to find a pair of shoes that I can actually wear all day and still stand up at the end of the day.

Gosh, you fellows have it so easy.

Stay Tuned

2008-07-07T02:38:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen me around the blogs lately, it is because I haven't been doing much blogging in the past couple of weeks or so. The weather in Vancouver has been wonderful, and my interests have momentarily turned to other things. I have a fabulous new camera, and I am so excited! Now I can join in on all the photography Freaky Foto Fridays, Sensational Sunset Saturdays, or whatever... I will be inundating you with photographs of my world. I may even take some pictures of me, if I'm having a good hair day.

First I have to learn how to use my camera. Then ... watch out!

See you soon.

Men With Guns

2008-07-05T12:51:00.000-07:00

What is it about men with guns. Is it some testosterone thing? I’m not even going to get into the obvious correlation here; this is a family blog. PG 13. But really…! Every weekend morning I get up and switch on the news to see who has been shot the night before. Sunday morning (after Saturday night) is usually the worst, but this morning there had been two people shot, one fatally.

Men with guns.

After doing my own anecdotal research, it would seem to me that, the smaller a man’s brains are, the larger his gun. Oh, now don’t get your knickers in a twist, I don’t mean that gun.

*Sigh*. Gosh, it’s so obvious, isn’t it?

Vancouver has several gangs, all made up of young men who are newly arrived here from other countries. They start their own mini-wars – their country against “the other” country. This is Canada. Everyone is welcome here, but please leave your guns at home. We’re not interested in getting caught in the crossfire of your turf wars.

It’s very difficult to legally purchase a gun in Canada. You cannot get automatic or assault rifles in Canada. In order to obtain a firearms license in Canada you must apply for a license, which requires a rigid background check. There is also a long waiting period in Canada, which probably allows those making a gun purchase with the intent of using it to cool off and rethink. So the guns these fellows are using are purchased illegally.

Yesterday afternoon at 5:00 p.m., during the height of rush hour at Davie and Thurlow in the heart of downtown Vancouver, a driver and a pedestrian got into an altercation. The driver of the car shot the pedestrian. That gives a whole new meaning to the term "road rage". The victim wasn't even in a car, he was just walking. That is getting really scary, as far as I'm concerned.

Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town

...Johnny Cash

Sleepless In Vancouver

2008-07-04T20:21:00.000-07:00

Sleeping
John Everett Millais
1865

Ever since I was a little girl, I have gone through stages where I have had difficulty sleeping. I can remember my mother making cups of hot milk for me to drink, and sometimes sitting up with me until I fell asleep. This same tendency towards occasional insomnia seems to run through the female members of our family.

I remember one episode of "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" where Mary Richards develops insomnia and becomes dependent on barbiturates to help her sleep. Her friend and boss, Mr. Grant, stays up with her all night and helps her break her dependence and she goes to sleep.

Ahhhh.....

I have been going through a strange little episode of insomnia lately. There have been a few things on my mind, I guess, and I lie awake staring at the ceiling and the four walls, and then at the ceiling again. I envy people who can go to bed, turn out the light, and go to sleep. Even at the best of times, I have to read for a while and let myself settle down.

I know this will pass and I will be myself again. In the meantime, if you should happen to pass someone floating along Broadway looking a little sleepy, her blouse buttoned on the wrong buttons and two different shoes on her feet, don't be concerned - it's only me.

And because it's Friday, here is my own version of satellite debris.