Saanichton Christmas 48/4 weeks

Our warm car photo.

This week we decided to participate in a Saanichton Christmas. It is a fun little holiday gathering that we thought seemed like a good idea. Apparently it begins with a pancake breakfast at St. Ann's church. I say apparently because we opted out of that in order to stay in and eat our own oatmeal pancakes, which are divine. If you leave a comment, I will send you the recipe and you will never view pancakes in the same way.

Fresh Cup Roastery; where the fun begins.

Santa and bewildered child.

Local band playing Christmas music while we all noshed on free coffee and cookies.

Upon arrival at the coffee shop, participants pick up a map for the Christmas tree trail. The fun is walking along the area businesses and trying to find their Christmas Tree. This activity was for the children so Mark and I didn't play along but I was witness to many people gently guiding kids to the true location of the tree. Perhaps they were rewarded with a candy cane. Perhaps just the enthusiastic involvement and attention of adults was prize enough. It would be hard not to share the Christmas spirit in the midst of a community party such as this one. And I would imagine curmudgeons just stayed away.

The horse drawn carriage rides. 

Santa delivery system...

Yikes! The only Grinch allowed.

One day we hope to have a lovely child to take along to this event. Even though it was only the Second Annual, I have no doubt it will become a holiday tradition for many people for years to come. And may I add that the Fresh Cup makes the best Egg Nog Latte that this blogger has ever had?

Pickle's Bluff; John Dean Park 47/5 weeks

Hikers poised at the stairs to the lookout.

This hike has us back at our beloved Pickle's Bluff. It is my favorite hike in this portion of Vancouver Island (so far) and one that I have promised to take visitors to whenever they grace our doorstep.
Even though I know that John Dean park closes for winter I continue to choose to hike there in the off-season. This necessitates walking up the long drive to the parking lot in order to hike the trails. I hope when John Dean opens for spring and summer someone will remind me how much I love this park and I will return so that I can DRIVE there and save my energy for the outstanding trails. Here's to hoping that didn't sound too terribly spoiled and now I will just let the photos of this amazing places speak for themselves.

Hillary headed to the Pickle's Bluff trail.

Marlen looking out over the southern tip of Vancouver Island.

Mark; all business coming back down the park.

The view to James Island and the mainland beyond.

No amount of photography has ever done this lookout any justice; you should just go in person.

Sidney BC Waterfront 46/6 weeks

Sidney BC has one of the most picturesque waterfronts around.

For this outing we chose the Sidney waterfront. We had not visited since the addition of a couple of semi-high rises and wanted to see how the waterfront had changed. There is a footpath that hugs the waterfront and it is popular with residents as well as visitors. On this day we were able to stop into the art center at Tulista Park to view the coming Christmas fare. As with any art centre or gallery in this part of the world, we are constantly amazed at the level of creativity and talent of the native population.

Mark and I at the Art Centre showcasing local artists Christmas offerings. 

The footpath winding through the trees before heading back to the waterfront.

Just the other side of the pier is the old pottery kiln site which exploded leaving the area littered with shards.

Constant visitors to the coast of Sidney.

All in all this was a pretty gloomy and misty day. But it is nice to get out and remember that the world contains such breathtaking beauty that it needn't be enjoyed on sunny days only.

Duncan BC 45/7 weeks

Mark and Hillary at the site of the original Duncan Chinatown now immortalized in an streetside gallery. 

There were a couple of reasons to head to Duncan this weekend. Well, three actually;

1. I love Duncan BC and it is always nice to visit.

2. A new photography exhibit opening to commemorate the Chinatown of the past in Duncan.

3. The second annual First Nations Craft fair of the Cowichan bands.

I had looked for the Chinatown remnants in the past but was never able to find anyone who knew where to  look. Im sure this Chinatown was much like any other; defined by a sense of isolation and intolerance. The racism that forced Asians into a ghetto was gently brushed aside when they had something to offer the population at large such as labor, drugs and gambling.

The Chinatown buildings just prior to demolition.

A photo of Chinese residents in the local parade.

We headed to the Cowichan community centre to attend the First Nations craft fair. I was trying to find wool slippers for the girls. Of course I found them but at a price I was unable to afford times three.  It was worth going to the centre though because of all of the totem poles on display.

Here is Hillary trying to insinuate herself into the design.

Mark at the edge of the Cowichan River, the very same from week number 17. 

Hillary just finishing up her coffee and ready to move on to the next adventure; Superstore
in search of oil cured black olives...

Moodyville 44/8 weeks

Moodyville harbour

I will readily admit that I have secretly wanted to live in Moodyville since I first laid eyes on this sleepy little village. Poised at the water's edge it is the oldest portion of Brentwood Bay, the town near our tiny farm where Mark practices traditional chinese medicine.

Im sure this section of town was named after some founding father with the last name of Moody, but it also could have been named for the emotional changes the Inlet can have on you. Being this close to the water in an area of the world where the environment can shift so quickly from sunny and blue sky to overcast grey and foggy must have an effect of your overall outlook.

How wonderful it would be to see this every morning over coffee.

The waterfront path that winds all the way around the village.

This is the park directly adjacent to the ferry ramp and Brentwood Bay Lodge.

One of the many ways the artistic residents show their colors.

And who wouldn't love a tiny library for fellow book lovers!

Mark and Mowgli poised at the top of a street looking down to the harbour.

There are a couple of empty houses looking out over the water as well as building lots available. Given the age of the village and the fact that its not being developed Im sure that I don't even need to look into it to know that I cant afford a home in this sleepy hamlet. Oh well.  I will just continue to enjoy it as a visitor.

SunDial Bridge, Redding California 43/9 weeks

This close, the architecture looks more like a giant harp.

On our way home from a life changing conference in Los Angeles we stayed just outside of Redding California. It appears that this is a gateway to a number of completely awesome outdoor pursuits such as hiking, whitewater rafting, skiing, spelunking etc. It wasn't until we checked in to the hotel that we realized we were just up the road from this world famous bridge.
I have seen loads of pictures of this place but I had no idea it was a pedestrian bridge. We ate our hotel breaky, drank our hotel coffee and headed out to have a look.

A bit of info about the sculptor.

My favorite part of the bridge; although they looked slippery, these panels allowed visitors to see the water below.

The entire base of the structure was covered in this beautiful mosaic.

My hiking buddy looking as if he would fall through.

The brilliant white against such a gorgeous blue sky made this the perfect morning to visit.

The search for Richard L. Ford 42/10 weeks

The sun setting over the prairie of my dad's youth.

He has always been a bit of an enigma to me. He is my father and he tore everything asunder by falling passionately in love with my mom; the depth of betrayal could be felt decades later at her death. When she passed away in 2004 four of her surviving children were called home to wrestle with their own mortality.

As we sat around the dining room table sharing stories and photos it occurred to us that we would need to write up the obituary information. Mom had seven live children. We used to joke that she had her family in litters like a cat. Three children with her first husband and four of us with my father. That represents alot of birthdays so in order to get them straight we dug around until we came across the birth certificate box.

It was only at this phase that we clued in to the fact that something wasnt quite right; there were two certificates missing and the exact ones would tell the full tale of deception, betrayal and bitterness that always marked our family as somehow different.

 The only real reason to be missing a couple of birth certificates from a stack of well kept documents is to eventually hide the dates of those births. Really, it is so simple one wonders why she even bothered to get rid of them. Unless we had been trying to piece together her story of marriages, I cant say that we would have even figured it out but for that glaring omission.
 I told my sisters that I thought it would be a pretty riveting story except I couldnt figure out how to make the reader feel any empathy or affection toward the central character who blundered into repeated acts of selfishness and then attempted to push any blame as far away from herself as possible. As a result she never ended up making right any one of her mistakes.
Mom apparently caused the break up of her first husband's marriage by becoming pregnant with Susan; missing birth certificate one. Dad then caused the break up of Mom's marriage by getting her pregnant with Ricky; missing birth certificate number two.

As a result, my older brother and sisters were tossed from their comfortable middle class home into the abject poverty that always follows beginning at square one. Even so, they loved my dad. I think that says a lot about who he really was. See, I wouldn't know because there was an incredible amount of friction in my mom's family and my dad bore both the brunt of their collective anger as well as all of the blame for the marriage break up. So he was always cast out of the circle and ridiculed for being the poorest brother in law.
He left for the last time when I was 10 and died of cancer when I was 14. So this day was dedicated to finding his elusive trail.
We started in Goodland Kansas, his birthplace on the prairie. I couldn't find any trace of him here. I remember being told that he was raised not by his parents but his aging grandparents and their extended family. A melancholy picture of him as a young boy shows him in black and white seated at a large picnic. He is the youngest by almost 60 years. And the saddest.

While the plains do hold a beauty of their own, only a prairie child can understand the need to get someplace
less open and exposed.

Goodland Kansas's claim to fame; the world's largest Van Gogh.
(which just happens to be my favorite painting)

These enormous grain bins are called the 'cathedrals of the plains'.

There was really nothing remarkable about this little town except, like its prairie cousins, it just rises above the flat land for no particular reason.  I was happy to be in a town that my dad had spent time in. Like a lot of prairie-raised children he got out of there as quickly as possible. 

He served a stint in the US Coast Guard which indicates his mindset fleeing the plains; he headed straight for the coast.
It was because of this time in his life that we found him just outside of Denver Colorado.

Thank goodness they didn't close the gates of this cemetery at dusk since we arrived in Denver long after dark.

This eerie shot does nothing to show the number of tombstones given to soldiers in every campaign the US has been involved in since the Civil War.

Richard LeRoy Ford 1931-1977

Section S; number 3253

As frequently happens in a blended family, my brothers and sisters are closer to the first family of my mom. We only met my dad's two children from a previous marriage once. I am linking this blog entry to my dad's name in the hope that someone conducting a web search will find this and contact me. Even though I spent the entire day looking for him I still have more questions than answers.