Home again home again jiggity jig!

Where did the year go? Time flies is an old adage but it sure fits here. As Voldemort and I begin the process of packing to go to our Toronto home (this is now officially our western home) I am once more astounded at the passage of time.

These last few months have been a whirlwind of visits from eastern friends. Sarah and Vijay, Jim and Bev, Dale, Caroline, Georgi and Ken all made the trek to see our Cochrane home. It was wonderful chauffeuring them around and sharing our favourite Rocky Mountain haunts with them. And then Lucas and Montana arrived home newly engaged….celebrations abounded!

There was one last trip to the mountains at Kicking Horse for a white water rafting trip that left Voldemort feeling somewhat soggy. If you can find him he’s at the front of the raft. It was a great way to end our western adventure.

Goodbye parties and lunches with our western family and friends. Tears of sadness and and promises to return. The trailer is packed and tomorrow we leave.

Goodbye Cochrane! It’s been fun!

Heritage

Canada Day, how we love to celebrate. Flags flying, fireworks popping magnificence into the skies and BBQ’s. Hot dogs, hamburgers and the quintessential potato salad adorn our plates washed down by icy cold beer. Yes we love our Canada Day and loudly proclaim to the world that we are Canadian.

On the ice in rinks across the country we excel. On lacrosse fields and rugby pitches we are fierce competitors. At the Winter Olympics our athletes thrill us with their successes. And although we play soccer (or football as the majority of the world likes to call it) we never seem to make it to the world stage. So it is that every four years when the FIFA World Cup comes around we are unable to dress in red and white with silly maple leaf hats and paint our faces in red and white stripes.

We go undercover. We trace back our heritage to our origins and cheer on our motherland. As most Canadians are the result of immigration, we look to where our parents or grandparents or great-grandparents started their lives. My mother was Holland born. Her mother was German. My father was Canadian born and his parents came from good Irish stock. Thus my first choice is Holland with Germany and Ireland a close second. Perhaps it is the orange uniform that calls to me or the crazy fans that adorn the stands. Whatever the reason I toss aside my Canadian pride and shout Hup Holland Hup!

As this blog goes to print Germany has advanced to the finals after a resounding win against Brazil. Hup Holland Hup! Let’s have a Germany Holland fight for the World Cup of Soccer.

Hooray, it’s May! Oops now it’s June.

Started this blog in May and then I just don’t know where the month went. So excuse the lateness….

Mayday, May flowers, maybe, May long weekend, come what May, Cinco de Mayo, a-May-zing!!

Toronto is starting to warm up but Cochrane brought in May with 14 centimeters of snow. Oh this wonderful world is mixed up weather wise. The sunshine sure does feel good on the body after this long cold winter.

What’s in store for you? Gardening, cycling, walking as the days get longer and longer? I am already checking the tires on my bike and looking around for my helmet and padded bike shorts. Voldemort is out in the gardens of Cochrane looking for the new growth and hoping all the perennials made it through the winter.

At the spring equinox, days are close to 12 hours long with day length increasing as the season progresses. Springtime refers to the season, and also to rebirth, rejuvenation, renewal, resurrection and regrowth. Reflect on your life. Are you happy? Are you healthy? Are you making a positive impact on something or someone? If you can answer yes to at least one of these questions you are headed in the right direction.

Life is what happens and then it is June. The weather is still a little crazy. Lake Louise is still ice covered and there was a lovely hail storm yesterday. We have had some Ontario visitors make the trek to Cochrane as well as one Aussie who dropped by and it was wonderful to share our little piece of heaven with good friends.

Some dips in the hot springs, trips up the Sulpher Mountain Gondola, horseback riding at Warner Stables and lunching at the Banff springs Hotel.

Spring has also brought back some other welcome friends to the GCA (greater Cochrane area). Oswald and Ophelia, our resident osprey, are back in their nest preparing for some new chicks. Mountain goats, deer and the favourite prairie dogs are popping up everywhere.


So a big thank you to our visitors for making the trek, to sunshine and spring weather, and for our continued health and good fortune.

To ski or not to ski….is it really an option?

When it comes to skiing, there’s a difference between what you think it’s going to be like, what it’s really like, and what you tell your friends it was. Author Unknown

The Olympics are over and while I pine for yet another run at the bobsled course, an alpine slalom on the Sochi slopes or a perfect lutz to be acknowledged correctly by the judging panel, there is a part of me that is satiated and can wait another four years. Medals have been awarded, athletes have performed and Russia succeeded in providing a safe (but politically incorrect and expensive) venue. Life goes on.

My friends do not necessarily share my love of the Winter Olympics or these frosty months. They yearn for spring days and the blossoming of the ground around them. However, I embrace the winter, the cold frosty mornings and the snow crunching under my feet. As I turn my skis to the downhill slope, I can’t help but stare in wonder at the pure white vistas before us. It is not easy. As we stand in the parking lot at -25 buckling up our boots, Voldemort turns and remarks “Remind me again why we do this?” I have no answer and simply grab my skis as we head to our first run.

Going up the chair conveniently called the Canadian Rockies Express it is cold (frigid) but we are layered up in thermals, fleece, snoods, with hot pockets in our mittens. I feel warm. And as we careen down runs with names like Kiefer’s Dream, Hobbits Hollow, Paradise and Eagle Flight I remember. Turning to my partner, the love of my life, I say “This is why.” And when we make a wrong turn and find ourselves a little out of our expertise level, we laugh and slow down. Hug a tree (following my sister’s example) and make our way safely down the run. Jump back on the chair lift and start all over again. It’s got all the attributes of what we liked to do as kids: we get to go really fast if we want, we can feel the wind in our faces, enjoy the bliss of leaving everything behind and we can push things just enough to feel like we should be in trouble.

We have skied in Canada, the USA and Europe. Each time brings new wonders, thrills and new experiences. It is a sport that grows with you. If the knees are a little tight or the hips a little sluggish, you just move from diamonds to squares. But stopping for me…..not an option yet.

For me, … it is 50 percent about the skiing and 50 percent about being in the mountains. You have to be very aware of where you are … there is a sense of adventure about it that is extraordinary. The trip is sort of like an annual gift to myself. -John Baker

Boom

What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give it sweetness. John Steinbeck.

Back to work and by work I mean the work of living. Christmas has come and gone. Presents have been opened, turkeys have been cooked and loved ones have hugged and returned home. 2014 has arrived and as anyone over the age of 40 has expressed, “Where did the year go?” We saw floods and earthquakes, papal resignations, more murders than I have time to write about, the extinction of precious animals, Gay rights being celebrated and but also denied, human rights infringements (PRISM) and we saw war.

My new year started with some pain and suffering. Not mine directly but my mom who fell and fractured her hip which led to various dire consequences. Hilde is now ensconced in Providence Villa and has begun the long and arduous task of rehabilitation. At 86 already suffering from scoliosis, deteriorating discs and a torn meniscus, this is no easy task.

All of which makes me more aware of my health and that of my loved ones. New year resolutions have never been my style. I mean, if I didn’t do it last year, why on earth would a promise made after a bottle of delicious red wine alter my decision making process. But over the last ten years I have made slow steady steps to better health. Thanks to my daughter I have been removing many toxic products from my diet. Yoga continues to give me flexibility and inner core strength to deal with the day to day living. The scale no longer holds the key to my well being. And we walk….Voldemort and I walk. We walk in the afternoon when the sun is starting to wane. We walk when the crystals of snowflakes dance around our eyes. We walk in the mountains.

Here on the west side of the country people greet each other when they meet in passing. When we walked at home in Scarborough, Voldemort would greet every person we passed. This was often met with distrust, surprise and confusion. But I noticed after several weeks the people we met (many of whom spoke very little English) would smile and return the salutation. Voldemort’s own kind of pay-it-forward by giving our neighbours a happy thought.

So whatever 2014 has brought you, embrace it and own it. Using the phrases that were all too common in the sixties, “Keep on truckin’ ” or “Hang in there, baby!”. Happy New Year!

I’m convinced of this: Good done anywhere is good done everywhere. For a change, start by speaking to people rather than walking by them like they’re stones that don’t matter. As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late to do some good.
Maya Angelou

Bali, Gili T and back again

Wow wow wow! Jet lag takes on new meaning when you are in the air for more than 24 hours. My friend Jane flies back and forth from Australia to Canada and I now get it when she talks of the stress on your body. This year I spent my 60th birthday in the clouds travelling from Calgary to Amsterdam to Denpasar. What a high, literally.

Arriving in Bali was exciting enough but seeing my son Lucas and daughter-in-love Montana was the icing on my birthday cake. Then Tom and Gerry and Jane arrived and we made a wonderful party of 7. Gerry and Jane showed us around their favourite haunts of Kuta Puri and introduced us to Gado-Gado, an Indonesian salad covered in peanut sauce. The noise, the stalls selling everything and anything and the sunsets on Kuta Beach were an assault on the senses. Gerry and Jane left to go back to work (what is that anyway? Lmao!) and the 5 remaining got the heck out of Kuta and did some sightseeing. Holy monkey temples, Ubud, the Bali Bird Park and sunsets at Tanah Lok….all combined with more Gado-Gado, satays, nasi goreng, watermelon lassi and Bintang, the local beer. Rocky and Tom fell in love with the jaffles, a grilled sandwich with all kinds of wonderful fillings.

And then we were 4. We took a bus and the fast boat to Gili Trawangan, known as Gili T. We were only going to stay a couple of days but fell in love and stayed a week. Upon arrival on the island Lucas did his thing, making us comfortable at a coffee shop while he rented a bicycle for $2 and checked out the local establishments. Finding us reasonable accommodation with a/c, breakfast and oceanfront, the GoodHeart Resort. Check them out on Trip Advisor if you find yourself heading to Gili T.

What’s not to like on Gili T? There are no motorized vehicles. Only bicycles and horse drawn buggies known as cidomo. No air or noise pollution. You hear the mosque calling for prayers 4-5 times a day. Snorkel right off the beach with sea turtles, paddle board or scuba if you are so inclined. The food is fresh caught fish done on the BBQ right in front of you or pizza cooked in real wood ovens. Nasi goreng, mie goreng and fresh juice every day. Watermelon, mango, banana or avocado juice freshly mixed in a blender for $1.20 US or $12,000 rupiah. Our wallets were full of bills in denominations of 100,000, we felt rich.

Lucas and I took an Indonesian cooking course while Montana and Voldemort cheered us on and ate all of the dishes we prepared. We took a ferry over to Gili Meno planning to spend the day on the beach. Instead we walked around the whole island stopping when it got too hot (which was all the time) to enjoy a beer or juice. Our own private warung (pub) crawl. We took a snorkelling trip and saw sea turtles and clown fish and so much more, stopping at Gili Air for a lunch of rendang, cap cay and more nasi goreng. (Come to Cochrane. I will make you nasi goreng.). We relaxed on the beach and listened to Montana and Lucas regale us with tales of their travels in Nepal, Istanbul and Europe. And were so happy to join them on this leg of their world adventure.

Beach sunsets, mango lassi, snorkelling with Lucas, grilled lobster a la Montana, travelling with Voldemort…..my life is good.

Journey: the act of travelling from one place to another

When we wake up and it is a sunny day, which is often in Cochrane, Voldemort and I pile into our Dodge Journey and undertake, yes, a journey.   Of recent we have visited Pat and Diane just outside of Wetaskiwin, headed along the Icefield Parkway to Jasper and most recently turned east to Drumheller.

Homer (below)  lives with Pat and Diane and recently lost his beloved partner in crime, Blackie.   He seems a little bit lost and I am sure we can all understand his melancholy.    It was Blackie who always led the way into adventure and so Homer must now make his journeys alone.

On our journey to Jasper we were inundated with spectacular views of the mountains, the icefields and of course wildlife.   W e came upon a majestic gang of elk journeying by the Athabasca River and the next morning saw perhaps the same bull laying down in the grasses covered in frost.    My brother-in-law, the consummate hunter, informed me after seeing my photographs that it was a royal bull elk which is determined by the number of points (7) on each side of his rack. Learning something new every day is a journey unto itself.

On our side trip to follow the Athabasca River, we stopped to photograph yet one more fantastic view. And as I turned to go back into the car I was drawn to this raven. He sat there quite calmly allowing me to take his picture and fluffed his feathers as I clicked shot after shot. There is a spiritual journey in native folklore when you choose your animal totem. If I were to take this journey I would choose the raven….or would he choose me?

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”
― Ernest Hemingway

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving…a time for reflection, harvest and giving thanks. Thanks for the mother who gave me life, the father who believed in me without question, the brother and sister who taught me to share and fight fair. Thanks to my husband who continues to grow with me and my son and daughter who never cease to amaze me with their capacity to learn and love. Thanks to my friends and family who enrich my life with every passing day.

We shared our thanksgiving dinner this year with family and friends here in Cochrane. There were over 30 adults and 10 children. Food was a cooperative effort with my contribution being the “carbs”. Thanks to Stephanie for her sweet potato casserole recipe, it was a huge hit which earned me hugs and kudos. Thanks to Tom for his scalloped potato recipe which I will now call my own, lol. Turkey and ham and salads and carrots and cauliflower added to this wonderful harvest we shared. Pumpkin pie, apple pie, apple crisp and a lovely bottle of tawny port (thanks Lukas for the port) finished our meal. Some people fell asleep, some did the dishes and others just sat around contentedly sharing tales and laughter.

Thank you for reading my blog ramblings and for your comments.   It is my connection to the world back  in Ontario.

Pumpkins, squashes and gourds, oh my🎶🎃

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.” Henry David Thoreau

It’s the great pumpkin season, Charlie Brown! Pumpkins, gourds or squash embody the spirit of autumn. We use them at Hallowe’en to carve and adorn our homes but am I the only one who starts to go pumpkin crazy in September? Judging by the number of pumpkin lattes, pumpkin muffins and pumpkin cheesecakes that are on the menus of all the famous fast food and coffee chains, I think not.

And so began my quest this last weekend to find my pumpkins. There didn’t seem to be any pumpkin patches nearby so I turned to the internet. In all of Alberta there were only four listed. This must be some kind of mistake! Maybe the local farmers do not have time to place their information on the electronic highway. I dragged Voldemort into the car and off we went in search. My brother-in-law who lives in a hamlet outside of Wetaskiwin dryly observed that pumpkins don’t grow well in Alberta because of the shorter growing season. I was not discouraged.

We drove to the famous Calgary Corn Maze which on the internet boasted of, among other things, jack-o-lantern pumpkins, cotton candy ghost white pumpkins, knucklehead pumpkins, red October pumpkins and, be still my pumpkin heart, Galeuse D’Eysine – pink skin coloured pumpkins with peanut like bumps. Surely this was the treasure trove I was looking for. We arrived a day early; apparently you can only purchase pumpkins on the weekends in Calgary. Suspiciously I looked around the Corn Maze. There was not one pumpkin to be seen. And although the internet boasted of a “pick your own” there was not a pumpkin patch in the nearby vicinity.

Skeptical that the mysterious pumpkins would arrive on the weekend, we headed back to Cochrane and went to the farmer’s market. My search netted one medium orange/green and warty pumpkin. Upon arriving home a little despondent, our neighbour Crystal commented that it was a pretty pumpkin and they had just had a shipment delivered where she worked. Quickly we hurried to No Frills and well, you can see for yourself, there be pumpkins my pretty……

Debra Mountain House

Can you imagine everywhere you look your name is written larger than life? I asked Voldemort how it felt, to see your name everywhere you looked? He said it felt fabulous and I believe him. I tried….Debra Mountain House, the Debra Mountains, Debracrest Chalets, watch for fallen Debra…no, it just isn’t feasible. I mean you will be hard pressed to even find a song sung about Debra. One of the only ones I ever found was sung by Beck, who saw Debra shopping in Macy’s (which is, of course, entirely feasible).

As you might have guessed from the title, our second venture out of Cochrane was to Rocky Mountain House. Along the way, we passed Caroline, Alberta which warranted a quick side trip. It is the birthplace of Kurt Browning. Next to shoes, one of my passions is competitive figure skating and although I remember watching Toller Cranston open the floodgates for men’s figure skating and can’t forget the battle of the Brian’s, truly my heart belongs to Kurt. So a quick photo op at the Kurt Browning Arena and we were back on the road.

One of the joys of this adventure is that we both enjoy driving. It is not the destination that we are focused on but the road that gets us there. This jaunt up Highway 22 was rolling hills and miles of cattle and horse farms. Can you spell peaceful? And by the way….the Tamarack Inn in Rocky Mountain House has some of the best french fries to grease…I mean grace….this earth.

Our next adventure was to Highway 40 towards Nakiska.   We had planned to circle around and back to Cochrane  but Mother nature changed all that.  The highway was closed  as part of the road was washed away by the flood of 2013.   It humbles me…..we build our highways and our cities and feel in control but then a little shake from our world and our efforts come tumbling down.   But the human race is nothing if not tenacious and I am sure our next trip down this highway will find the damage repaired.