Friday, August 31, 2012

Party on!

It's an age-old boat-owners problem: otters on boats, hangin' around like they own the place, yet side-stepping moorage fees, upkeep and a plethora of other duties associated with ownership.  

Online advice is vast and free for the taking, but you gotta have some tools:
1. "Shooting is noisy and dangerous.What you need is A 220 or 330 conibear steel trap.If I was near i could help.what needs done is A wood box made to hold trap bait is placed in back to guide animal in."

2. "I keep em off my docks by puttin 4-5" gal nails all round the perimeter of my floating docks and running 40lb mono all around it. Keeps em from flopping up!"

Or this: "Have you tried a sign like 'No otters'"?

And finally: "Otters taste like chicken!"

A few nights ago, my men rowed out and hung two pastel-hued balloons to the boat.  The lovely festive party decor swayed in the evening breeze and seemed to signal 'party boat' in my view.  Apparently I was not alone in my thinking.  

On my morning swim the following day, I approached the boat with the silent stealth of a Navy seal.  Despite my splashless breaststroke, the little guy lifted his head from his sunbathing spot, shot me a glance, and spilled over the port bow like a cup of black coffee.  Sly bugger, this!

Thursday, August 30, 2012

From Eli, with love

Moonlight on water @ 4AM.
Some girls have all the luck.  At bedtime lastnight, in mutual states of complete relaxation after shared foot massage,  I struck a deal with my dear man.  "If you take the dogs out now, dear, I'll do early morning."

Eli was the first canine to stir, pacing the house well-before dawn, no doubt as a result of ingesting sea water yesterday.  And then I saw her, the Goddess of the Night Sky, nearly full in her waxing gibbous beauty.  Through the trees on her earth-bound descent she hovered there just so, casting a long swath of golden light across the bay.

With a little editing in iPhoto I present to you, courtesy of Eli and his trembling bowels, this visual gift.  

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Blue Heron majesty


















Three herons flew above us this morning and one stayed, resting atop a windswept fir at the water's edge.

Lifting his greatness heavenward, he stretched his neck to full length, then settled in and shared his elegant profile without a thought to vanity.  So gracious was he that Ken had ample time to extricate his elaborate lens from its case, catching His Majesty against the painted sky.
  
Then, perhaps in response to a cue he alone could understand, he drew his sturdy legs up and back in one swift motion and took flight, his noisy sentiments echoing across the dark water. 

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Northbound romance

Twenty-somethings, one year into our marriage.
As we headed to Bowen Island today on our first road trip in my new car, my dear spouse rallied after a short nap and plugged his phone into my USB port, filling the car with eclectic tunes.  Kiri Te Kanawa, John Denver, Jackson Browne, Nixon's resignation speech, Joan Baez, excerpts from the soundtrack to The Abyss, Elton John, Supertramp, The Beach Boys, and JFK's speech on the Cuban missile crisis; a pretty diverse offering, and so very Mika.  Sporting his trademark "Whatever" cap with 3 pens peering out of his t-shirt pocket, it was all I could do to keep my eyes on the road.

There is much about this man to love, and love him I do.  

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Life as art


Mika and I stepped into something quite new last weekend when we performed a short piece with our son, Reilly, called Dumb Eyes.  With minimal preparation on our part and virtually no rehearsal, we brought our best selves to the experience with open hearts and minds.  I'm still exploring the process and resting in to the experience as time carries on.  

Kudos to Reilly for his willingness and courage to step into this brave new world and for extending his hand and heart to both his father and me.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Directionally challenged

Beyond perplexed and heading toward self-deprecation.
Written instructions are often in the same league for me as multiple-choice test questions.  Apparently, I'm quite gifted at reading more into the text provided, or, as some would say, reading between the lines.  Give me an essay question, though, and I'm all over it-- let me at it!

The Good to Go transponders truly perplex me.  Shouldn't the sticker face the electronic device that will scan it?  Why on earth does the bar code face me?

Whatever.  

No wonder I tread with great care when giving test-taking directions to students.  After all, who wants to scrape a self-defeated student off the floor?

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Cousins weekend!

Day one: rowdy water play in Bowen Bay.
Canadian and US actors pose for a poster shot during rehearsal
for their new work, Aftermath of a Shade.





Madeline, Reilly, Nadya and Isabel: joy unleashed!






Open and forage at your own risk.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Free speech

 "You don't have to tell everyone everything."  Did she actually think I needed that advice?  It was offered up a year into her sobriety, a window of time that lasted a handful of years and brought her great clarity and a propensity for reflection.  There were apologies, questions, and long pauses of pensive thought.  And there was love, always love.

I asked someone I love what he wants to be remembered for.  Perhaps my query was as off-center as my mother's unsolicited advice.  I admit it seemed to come out of my mouth rather reflexively, but the beauty of the night had me wondering.  I was expecting "kindness" or "dedication", but then, no; he's a humble sort and firmly rooted in self-deprecating humor.  

"He wore comfortable shoes.  And thought that Arnold (Shwarzenegger) was the greatest actor of his generation."  

Yes, it's true; all of it.  I don't have to tell everyone everything, but some things are too good to keep to oneself.  

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The sound of relief

Fine china and orange rind dentures: tea with a citrus twist!
Did you hear that?  The stop and go engine and the beep beep beep sound of the Waste Management truck?

Break out the party hats!  After 3 weeks of steady baking at triple digit temps, our putrid garbage was collected at long last.  Happy girl, me.  

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Clearing space

Eureka! I got inspired today to do some major purging.  Six gigantic bags of old clothes are slated for delivery to Goodwill tomorrow.  Empty drawers.  An absence of closet clutter.  Musty odors out the window; gone!  A plethora of hangers.  S p a c e s with nothing in them.  

By day's end, I felt freer, less tethered to the old and more able to welcome the new.  In a few short days we will gather at Bowen Bay to scatter Faith's ashes in the place we've cultivated memories since 1978.  Part of me is ready to relinquish her remains as she wished.  And part of me trembles at the very thought.

It seems not possible that a year ago she sat on the beach with Mike, sharing conversation with reading material in hand.  Ordinary moments; extraordinary memories.

I'd like to believe that I'm in a place of readiness; clearing space, making way for change.  Day by day, Oh; day by day.