I'm reading Sharyn McCrumb's Appalachian story development, very helpful. I understand how music influences life, especially in the days before Much Music and music videos. My life is made up with snatches of song, mind pictures reproduced when I hear these fragments. I make up for the lack of a sense of smell, which for most people is a major influence in memory, with sounds and pictures. As a child during WWII there were many songs that must have inspired me, young as I was. My mother was a great fan of Nelson Eddy and Jeannette McDonald, and sang Beyond the Blue Horizon, possibly as an anthem toward a future while my Dad was overseas.
I have pictures in my mind from those days... my Grandpa walking me to kindergarten on his way to work, and my love of visiting his drugstore on 29th and Dunbar in Vancouver. I recall the blackout window coverings we had, living on the West Coast, and especially when the Queen Elizabeth was anchored off English Bay. Oddly, I don't remember seeing the ship. I remember seeing my young Aunt playing the piano, and for some reason always picturing snow falling when I hear Polynaise. What I can't recall is if this was because it was actually snowing while she played, I'm sure that did happen sometimes. But it could also have been because she often wore a sweater that was popular at the time that had deer and snowflakes as a pattern. These sweaters came in maroon (hers did), and I think in dark green and dark blue. It's strange what the mind retains.
Sharyn's essays brought home to me how much we retain, but also how much we must strive to learn from what we retain. Music is one thing that remains forever, in sayings which are actually lines from old songs, and we can think about a line and wonder where we heard it. Probably in a song, nursery rhyme, book, or poem. The 1940s were full of memorable lines in songs that helped to cheer up a terrible time in our lives. Some are no longer politically correct, but we had no idea as children at the time just how hurtful some of those songs would be. There were many nonsensical songs at that time, too. The Old Woman Who Swallowed the Fly, There Was an Old Man and He Had an Old Sow (followed by various odd noises), Chickery-Chick, Chilaw Chilaw (I actually have the sheet music for that one!), then even earlier ones... The Old Lamplighter, The White Cliffs of Dover. The old time pub songs, Feet Up Mother Brown, If You Don't Like Your Whelks Don't Muck 'Em About, Cockles and Mussells. Songs from WWI: Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag, It's a Long Way to Tipperary. The Red Hot Mama, Sophie Tucker, the soulful blues of Billie Holiday. Songs of the Old World: Danny Boy, Irish Lullaby, Blue Danube, Loch Lomond, the wonderful songs sung by Edith Piaf. The hilariously satirical and innovative music of Spike Jones...I could go on and on. These all bring back the memories of what may have been going on around me when I heard these, I see pictures in my mind of groups of family singing or playing piano and violin, an uncle playing the banjo, my Grandpa playing the saw. I even see myself in Grade 3 in our school Christmas concert, I was a singing doll in Santa's Toyland, and sang "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" then curtsied.
What will my legacy be to my grandchildren, I often wonder. My husband used to sing them to sleep in his arms when they were babies with the non-lullaby "Cool Water" and entertained them with his own rendition of "Rye Whiskey!" My songs were more traditional. I sang for years in church, in shelters, sometimes solo, sometimes in chorus, sometimes duets. I don't sing now, something has happened to alter my voice and my jaw has now been added to the parts of me that have familial, or as it is now known, essential tremor. Why essential, I don't know. All I know is I could do quite a bit better without it! Our 6 year old granddaughter got her Mom to phone us a few weeks ago and ask "Grampa" to sing "Cool Water" to her and then she sang it with him. I guess she was missing us. We live a long way apart.
I think of Rock-n-Roll of the 1950s as happy music, and indeed it does make me feel happy when I hear it. This was followed by a lot of sad songs: "Tell Laura I Love Her." Then on to the psychedelic music of the hippy era, and I must say I did like "White Rabbit" which had such a haunting melody and performance. There isn't really too much that I don't like when it comes to music, but I avoided punk music and acid music. I even like some heavy metal and rap, but there are no real memories there. Now I think back at what my parents said about Rock-n-Roll..."What music is this generation going to have for nostalgia?" Of course, I would reply, "Well, it won't be Boop, Boop, Diddum Daddum Waddum, Choo!" I guess every generation has its own crazy songs.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Weird Cloud in Our Sky
Walking out to the car one evening, I saw this weird cloud and took the photo. It doesn't show up as much in the photo, but it has a tail trailing out of it. There must have been a pretty strong wind up in the jetstream.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Finally got ice-skates and raring to go!
Could this be my first good year up north? Well, for starters, I know I will finally start ice-skating, just have to find out the schedules at the rink... and then see if I can stand up! Last time skating was 14 years ago, and the time before was 30 years ago, and we won't even go into when I actually used to go skating on a slightly regular basis! $2.00 for seniors, that's not bad at all. These new skates are very different from what I've skated with before. For one thing they are not white. For another they do not lace up... How am I going to carry them over my shoulder?? I will get guards put on them before I go, and I already have a helmet.. don't want to break anything, that's why I haven't skated in the past 4 years since moving up here, broken ankle! There's no way my ankle is going to move in these skates, believe me. Now, if I could just get out ice-fishing again, my winter would be complete! Maybe I'd better make a snow angel first for good luck, do you think? It's got to knock some weight off, right?
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Here's to our Courageous Forest Firefighters...
...and all related personnel. With all these forest fires burning throughout British Columbia, you have diligently kept on fighting without complaint, risking your lives in the process. The huge fire that has kept Hwy 37 closed for so long, the terrible wind changes yesterday, extreme winds in some areas, every British Columbian should be letting you know how much we appreciate all the dirty, hot, suffocating hard work you do. Thank you one and all, my sincerest condolences to those who have been injured and particularly those whose lives have been lost. My prayers go with you night and day. The rains can't come too soon!
Fires in my broad area: Burns Lake, Francois Lake, Fraser Lake, Houston, New Aiyansh are just a few.
Fires in my broad area: Burns Lake, Francois Lake, Fraser Lake, Houston, New Aiyansh are just a few.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
How will I get my life back on track?
Here I sit at my computer once again. It was suffocatingly hot and humid five minutes ago and now it's pouring rain and much cooler. My husband had just painted a piece of metal and put it in the sun to dry, and had to run around the workshop to put it in out of the rain. In the meantime he had been shovelling dirt to fill the back of the workshop where the land dropped off steeply. And here I sit at my computer.
I'm working at writing but it's not going well. I do surveys, get tons of email every day (not just spam), update facebook once in a while, and what I enjoy most is reviewing books that are sent to me. This works well toward the writing itch, but the itch still persists. Medications are making me feel sluggish. What I'd really like to be doing is running around, playing volleyball or badminton, or something! Of course, since I broke my ankle very badly 3 years ago, that probably isn't the best idea I've had, but I should be walking at least. I'd like to take a trip, just a driving trip, no fancy locations or anything. Maybe to Alaska or the Yukon, Northwest Territories, after all, we're already halfway there!
Wouldn't it be great to drive across Canada! I love where I am, it's beautiful, no big city woes but no public transportation... I wish all these surveys didn't make me feel like a poor Canadian by driving my car! After all, I'm in a rural area. It reminds me of when I was working. We kept getting emails to ride bicycles instead of driving! It took me 1 hr to drive, 2 hrs by public transportation which meant by the time I got on the last bus my transfer was expired! How was I in my 60s going to ride a bicycle? My friend and I finally got the point across that not too many people who worked in Vancouver could afford to live there and they should be targeting the people in Vancouver who were driving to work, especially the exchange students who often drove very fancy cars. Of course, not all exchange students could afford cars, so I shouldn't put the onus on them. My grandmother used to ride her bike when she was in her 60s I think, but I know she brought it out, pumped up the tires, and rode it on her 80th birthday around her yard, sloping and grassy I think the road would have been easier, but there she was, in 1972, riding it like she had been riding all along. This was a bike that was bought for her in 1936, no speeds, just what you could pump with your legs! No handbrakes, you braked with the pedals. The only kind of bike I've ever ridden too, now that I think of it.
My grandmother was an amazing woman. Everyone called her Amazing Grace, since Grace was her name. She was a second mother to me, especially when my children were young and we lived only a mile apart. My mother had young children at home still and we didn't get much chance to visit. Around Christmas each year my mother & I would make arrangements to meet at Woodwards in downtown Vancouver. She lived in South Vancouver, I lived in North Vancouver with three kids in tow. I would take the bus, it would go up the mountain, down the mountain, across the mountain, up the mountain, down the mountain, across the Lions Gate Bridge, through Stanley park and finally get us downtown. We did have to make a transfer somewhere but I don't remember where. One time we were going to meet at Hamilton Harvey, Main St. and Kingsway. We had three transfers to make by then. My son was tired of it all at the age of two, stuck his arms straight out and grabbed each door and I couldn't budge him! What a trip we had that day! Then after finally getting on the bus, by the time we got to the right bus stop I didn't recognize it and stayed on the bus, which turned on to Kingsway (our old highway to the US). I grabbed my kids and went up to the driver who said the next stop was a few blocks away and I burst into tears! Horrors. He pulled the bus over, helped me get across Kingsway, and told the bus driver that happened to be there where I was going and asked if he would make sure we got off safely. Those were the days! I have often thought of that bus driver through the years, how kind he was.
Well, enough tears and complaints! On with the day, whatever it may bring. It has stopped raining, no more thunder, and is considerably cooler. Have a good day, everyone! I've decided I will go into town.
I'm working at writing but it's not going well. I do surveys, get tons of email every day (not just spam), update facebook once in a while, and what I enjoy most is reviewing books that are sent to me. This works well toward the writing itch, but the itch still persists. Medications are making me feel sluggish. What I'd really like to be doing is running around, playing volleyball or badminton, or something! Of course, since I broke my ankle very badly 3 years ago, that probably isn't the best idea I've had, but I should be walking at least. I'd like to take a trip, just a driving trip, no fancy locations or anything. Maybe to Alaska or the Yukon, Northwest Territories, after all, we're already halfway there!
Wouldn't it be great to drive across Canada! I love where I am, it's beautiful, no big city woes but no public transportation... I wish all these surveys didn't make me feel like a poor Canadian by driving my car! After all, I'm in a rural area. It reminds me of when I was working. We kept getting emails to ride bicycles instead of driving! It took me 1 hr to drive, 2 hrs by public transportation which meant by the time I got on the last bus my transfer was expired! How was I in my 60s going to ride a bicycle? My friend and I finally got the point across that not too many people who worked in Vancouver could afford to live there and they should be targeting the people in Vancouver who were driving to work, especially the exchange students who often drove very fancy cars. Of course, not all exchange students could afford cars, so I shouldn't put the onus on them. My grandmother used to ride her bike when she was in her 60s I think, but I know she brought it out, pumped up the tires, and rode it on her 80th birthday around her yard, sloping and grassy I think the road would have been easier, but there she was, in 1972, riding it like she had been riding all along. This was a bike that was bought for her in 1936, no speeds, just what you could pump with your legs! No handbrakes, you braked with the pedals. The only kind of bike I've ever ridden too, now that I think of it.
My grandmother was an amazing woman. Everyone called her Amazing Grace, since Grace was her name. She was a second mother to me, especially when my children were young and we lived only a mile apart. My mother had young children at home still and we didn't get much chance to visit. Around Christmas each year my mother & I would make arrangements to meet at Woodwards in downtown Vancouver. She lived in South Vancouver, I lived in North Vancouver with three kids in tow. I would take the bus, it would go up the mountain, down the mountain, across the mountain, up the mountain, down the mountain, across the Lions Gate Bridge, through Stanley park and finally get us downtown. We did have to make a transfer somewhere but I don't remember where. One time we were going to meet at Hamilton Harvey, Main St. and Kingsway. We had three transfers to make by then. My son was tired of it all at the age of two, stuck his arms straight out and grabbed each door and I couldn't budge him! What a trip we had that day! Then after finally getting on the bus, by the time we got to the right bus stop I didn't recognize it and stayed on the bus, which turned on to Kingsway (our old highway to the US). I grabbed my kids and went up to the driver who said the next stop was a few blocks away and I burst into tears! Horrors. He pulled the bus over, helped me get across Kingsway, and told the bus driver that happened to be there where I was going and asked if he would make sure we got off safely. Those were the days! I have often thought of that bus driver through the years, how kind he was.
Well, enough tears and complaints! On with the day, whatever it may bring. It has stopped raining, no more thunder, and is considerably cooler. Have a good day, everyone! I've decided I will go into town.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
I love animals. All kinds of animals... although I do have a problem with slugs.
We went back to the land in the '70s after living in the city, at least I did, my entire life until then. For Dennis it was a little different, he came from the prairies, but spent most of his life in the city, too. I don't really know how it happened, but we were completely in tune with one another at this point and shortly discovered we were both watching the want ads without saying anything. 1970 was a very bad year for all of us health-wise and work-wise, and I guess it seemed like a good idea to go "back to the land". No, we weren't hippies, we were just needing to find a place that would not suck our finances dry every month, and to give us some peace and the children a different way of life. Hah! So what did we do? We bought a farm. 20 acres. This in the once large farmland in the Fraser Valley, now almost Vancouver's bedroom as people move out of the city until they find something they can afford,,, and then spend it all traveling their commutes to work in Vancouver. We were lucky, Dennis had work in the Fraser Valley as an electronic salesman, another good reason to move. So, there we were, 5 of us, the children ranging from almost 10 to almost 5.
We had about 1/6 acre in vegetable garden that the pigweed and redroot kept moist while our ever growing hobby farm took on a life of its own. One year I decided to grow all my vegetables in different colours: purple broccoli, green cauliflower, purple beans, yellow carrots, orange beets, you get the idea. They were good too, but what a job blanching them for freezing. 115 deg. F in the kitchen and you didn't have much choice but to keep putting them in and taking them out. Sure glad I no longer have an oil stove for heat & hot water! 1 goat, 2 geese, 88 chickens, 1 rooster, 8 beehives, 7 beef cattle, 1 milk cow, 1 huge sow and 2 smaller ones, and eventually 4 horses made up our menagerie. It was wonderful, I felt I had come home. Our kids went to a 3 rm school grades 1-7 in Barrowtown (yes, it really was); not far from Pumptown one way and Yarrow another.
Nobody told us about the strong winds that suddenly came through. This was Sumas Prairie in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, not the middle of Saskatchewan! But you would never know it when those winter winds blew bringing the windchill down to -52 one night when I was out in the car. I wondered why it kept sputtering every time I turned into the wind. It was also snowing so hard we ended up with a snowdrift in the back seat about 2 ft wide and 6 inches high before we got home. A fall wind was so strong it tore metal roofs off barns and outbuildings and flung it around like tissue paper, why no one was killed by the flying sharp-edged sheets I'll never know. It cut a mile-wide swath and we were somewhat in the middle of it. We were building a 50x150' farrowing barn and the whole roof was lifted over on top of the next barn a good 25' away. One road over, we saw as we drove by a barn with beautifully regular bales (not the round ones of today but rectangular bales) of hay stacked on the hayloft floor, not a bale misplaced, but no roof at all, nor any sign of it. Silos all over the place were collapsed inward and missing their "hats", the silo roofs.
Then things got tough, a house fire Jan 1 1975, a flood Dec 3, 1975, and we were unable to sell the farm. Someone suggested we start a commercial pig farm. Well, the first bank we went to was looking to jump into the then lucrative pig farming market. But they didn't actually know how those worked and insisted that Dennis work at another hog farm while building our new barn. Naturally, by winter we didn't have the barn finished, the grain feeder was not operating and we had to fill buckets from the hopper and carry them to the pigs. The water froze in winter and we put a wood burning stove in the barn and someone had to stay up all night to keep the fire going. One morning we woke up and couldn't see the barn... it was behind an 18 ft high snowdrift, the only one in our area, we must have received all the snow in the valley blown in between the house and the barn. The kids the next road over brought their skis. I had a bad cold one time and had to be down in North Vancouver by 9:30 a.m. so I went out to take a tub of water to the geese, who we had put in with the chickens since it was so cold. Well, easy to guess, I suppose, but as I set the tub down the gander nipped me on the elbow which made me jump, the tub flew upwards, and down came the ice-water on my head!
Eventually the price of pork went down below the cost of raising them and interest rates went to 24%, and we had over 1,000 feeder pigs, 500 sows, and 5 boars. I'm tired all over again! When I start these little thoughts, I never know where they are going to end up. Usually rambling. I had every sow and boar named (plant names) on their records, and even a few of the promising shoats were named. The Landrace (long-eared) all had beautiful flowing names to match their long graceful snouts and ears: delphinium, freesia, larkspur, columbine. The Yorkshires with their shorter snouts and upright ears had names like: daisy, dahlia, carnation, poppy. Dennis did most of the feeding (by hand) and shipping which he did during the night, I did the farrowing, managing to save quite a few piglets by being on hand, but usually spent the night in the barn doing crossword puzzles to keep me awake while waiting for the births. Needless to say, when the time came to say goodbye to the farm it was with great difficulty, even though it had been very hard work.
We had about 1/6 acre in vegetable garden that the pigweed and redroot kept moist while our ever growing hobby farm took on a life of its own. One year I decided to grow all my vegetables in different colours: purple broccoli, green cauliflower, purple beans, yellow carrots, orange beets, you get the idea. They were good too, but what a job blanching them for freezing. 115 deg. F in the kitchen and you didn't have much choice but to keep putting them in and taking them out. Sure glad I no longer have an oil stove for heat & hot water! 1 goat, 2 geese, 88 chickens, 1 rooster, 8 beehives, 7 beef cattle, 1 milk cow, 1 huge sow and 2 smaller ones, and eventually 4 horses made up our menagerie. It was wonderful, I felt I had come home. Our kids went to a 3 rm school grades 1-7 in Barrowtown (yes, it really was); not far from Pumptown one way and Yarrow another.
Nobody told us about the strong winds that suddenly came through. This was Sumas Prairie in the Lower Mainland of British Columbia, not the middle of Saskatchewan! But you would never know it when those winter winds blew bringing the windchill down to -52 one night when I was out in the car. I wondered why it kept sputtering every time I turned into the wind. It was also snowing so hard we ended up with a snowdrift in the back seat about 2 ft wide and 6 inches high before we got home. A fall wind was so strong it tore metal roofs off barns and outbuildings and flung it around like tissue paper, why no one was killed by the flying sharp-edged sheets I'll never know. It cut a mile-wide swath and we were somewhat in the middle of it. We were building a 50x150' farrowing barn and the whole roof was lifted over on top of the next barn a good 25' away. One road over, we saw as we drove by a barn with beautifully regular bales (not the round ones of today but rectangular bales) of hay stacked on the hayloft floor, not a bale misplaced, but no roof at all, nor any sign of it. Silos all over the place were collapsed inward and missing their "hats", the silo roofs.
Then things got tough, a house fire Jan 1 1975, a flood Dec 3, 1975, and we were unable to sell the farm. Someone suggested we start a commercial pig farm. Well, the first bank we went to was looking to jump into the then lucrative pig farming market. But they didn't actually know how those worked and insisted that Dennis work at another hog farm while building our new barn. Naturally, by winter we didn't have the barn finished, the grain feeder was not operating and we had to fill buckets from the hopper and carry them to the pigs. The water froze in winter and we put a wood burning stove in the barn and someone had to stay up all night to keep the fire going. One morning we woke up and couldn't see the barn... it was behind an 18 ft high snowdrift, the only one in our area, we must have received all the snow in the valley blown in between the house and the barn. The kids the next road over brought their skis. I had a bad cold one time and had to be down in North Vancouver by 9:30 a.m. so I went out to take a tub of water to the geese, who we had put in with the chickens since it was so cold. Well, easy to guess, I suppose, but as I set the tub down the gander nipped me on the elbow which made me jump, the tub flew upwards, and down came the ice-water on my head!
Eventually the price of pork went down below the cost of raising them and interest rates went to 24%, and we had over 1,000 feeder pigs, 500 sows, and 5 boars. I'm tired all over again! When I start these little thoughts, I never know where they are going to end up. Usually rambling. I had every sow and boar named (plant names) on their records, and even a few of the promising shoats were named. The Landrace (long-eared) all had beautiful flowing names to match their long graceful snouts and ears: delphinium, freesia, larkspur, columbine. The Yorkshires with their shorter snouts and upright ears had names like: daisy, dahlia, carnation, poppy. Dennis did most of the feeding (by hand) and shipping which he did during the night, I did the farrowing, managing to save quite a few piglets by being on hand, but usually spent the night in the barn doing crossword puzzles to keep me awake while waiting for the births. Needless to say, when the time came to say goodbye to the farm it was with great difficulty, even though it had been very hard work.
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