Life's a Stitch

It seemed weird to be de-winterizing our Winnie Micro-Minnie trailer (aka the Mouse House) in August, as it normally would be a springtime activity. But we made the effort and it was so worth it, if only for a five day getaway. Campgrounds opened, in June I think, only to in-province residents and we missed the opportunity to make a reservation. The lines were overwhelmed with those who would normally be travelling farther afield and most spots were quickly claimed. Sometimes it's possible to get a spot for a night or two midweek. I lucked out and found four nights, not on the central reservation system, at Logan Lake’s municipal campground, about 3.5 hours from here. 

Camping is a relatively safe activity, Covid-wise, if you can find well spaced sites and that we did, not only at the lake, but for one night on the way home at Skihist Provincial Park in Lytton. 

Logan Lake is stocked with trout:

It was an easy stay as there were electrical hookups. I can be a camping wimp appreciating my microwave, electric kettle and hair dryer. I feel like I earned it as we were still tent camping in our early 60’s until I put my foot down after a night of deluginous rain. That’s my word for rain so hard that it threatens to transform tents into arks, except that the water creeps in from below soaking everything in its path, the first being your shoes and sleeping pad.

Everyone with a camper has their thing, the one item that makes life so much easier. Without revealing any names, I’ve witnessed espresso pots, toasters and ice makers at campsites.  

It was a relaxing stay with hiking, geocaching, sunsets and stars.

This was the welcoming committee at the trailhead across from the campground:

On a ride to a neighbouring lake we passed nearly a mile of caps on fence posts:

Sunset at Logan Lake:

Our second stop was a provincial park. BC can do better with their highway rest stops (many with outhouses) and provincial parks (haven’t stayed at one with electricity or city water connection). We’ve grown accustomed to the state parks south of the closed border. I know, I know, “muffin,” you say, “it’s camping!”

Technically that would be called dry camping or boondocking. Our little camper has a propane furnace, refrigerator and stove. It will let us depend on our battery for a few days for lights, but no plugs. We can fill our tank with water, so most importantly, our toilet works. And yes you can buy a generator, a solar panel, an inverter to power the plugs etc etc, but we don’t use it enough to justify the expense. I did order a stovetop tea kettle for next year’s dry camping adventures.

Skihist was beautiful, but located above Canada’s Highway #1, there is some road noise, so choose your site carefully.

There is a beautiful hiking trail, with a couple of geocaches, along the 1800’s Cariboo Wagon Road. This is the view from the top:

I know I’ve told this story before, but in case you forgot:

Once upon a time, in my younger years, a friend introduced me to someone who supposedly could tell you about your past lives. She went around the circle. There were queens and noble women. She gets to me and guess what? She tells me I’m a prairie pioneer woman who rode in covered wagons. Lol I do love the prairies, though only to visit. So I was destined to do this cache, given its history. 

We live where beautiful places are so close by, but i’m still glad to be home:

 

Much like the Freshman 15 I experienced in my first year of college, thanks to the unlimited availability of cafeteria chocolate milk and root beer, Covid initially had its way with me weight-wise. That first bit, during our 14 day quarantine, put us in too close proximity to the fridge. I drowned my sorrows in toasted buttered bagels and homemade bread. I understand it’s a thing.

I'm happy to report that I'm now below my pre-pandemic weight because of low carb choices resulting from a successful recipe hunt. I'll post my favourite below, but first, have you witnessed this moment of joyful song?

It made me smile.

We're at the height of zucchini season, so here's a delicious recipe that will make a one pound dent in your zucchini stash. C, my Minnesota farm boy, who considerers a healthy serving half an ear of corn pathetic eating, enjoyed the fact that two of these have the same amount of carbs.

Zucchini Feta Fritters

Ingredients: 

1 lb zucchini, grated (I used 6mm food processor blade), salted, and pressed dry

2 eggs

2 green onions, thinly sliced

2T chopped dill

1/2 C Crumbled feta

2 cloves minced garlic

pepper to taste

1/4 C flour

1/2 t baking powder

3T olive oil

lemon wedges or tzatziki  

Procedure: 

Beat the eggs in a large bowl, add the zucchini, green onions, dill, feta, garlic and pepper. Mix the flour and baking powder together and stir in until evenly distributed.Heat the oil in a frying pan. Drop in 2T of mixture onto pan and flatten slightly, cook until golden brown on both sides, turning once. Drain on paper towels. Serve with lemon wedges or tzatziki. Makes 12 (8gms carbs each).

 

That's what we call it when you have to spend more, or are inconvenienced, in this time of pandemic than in the "before times." High-in-demand rubbing alcohol at $7.99 a bottle instead of $1.88, shopping at a smaller, more expensive grocery store to avoid the exposure at the crowded superstore, service charges to cancel our July and September camping reservations. 

It was announced today that the Canada/US border will remain closed for at least another month, making it six months and counting. As we are five minutes away, we used to cross in order to buy gas at a much lower price than our heavily taxed fuel. No more. Neither Canadians nor Americans can cross the border by car. Canadians can enter the US by air, but nobody from any country can fly to Canada unless they are reuniting with an immediate family member and fulfill the requisite 14 day quarantine. There are exceptions for essential workers.

My major disappointment is the cancellation of that September camping trip as its purpose was dual – I was registered to take another watercolour course in Spokane with my favourite teacher, Lian Quan Zhen.

Realistically though, why would we want to cross a border where the county just on the other side is reporting 50+ new Covid cases today? Our entire province is lamenting the fact that the numbers are increasing here – 78 in one day. The state of WA has 67,826 confirmed cases, while BC has 4,274. Granted, we have 2/3's the population, but only 6.3% of the cases. I am OK with paying the covid tax in the form of higher prices and isolation by staying at home.

Despite being stuck in what feels like a pandemic time warp, life goes on. The gulls are growing, now taller than the plastic owls.

Two are flying, Splat will catch up in a couple of weeks. There is now a nestful of peeping little finches in the cedar next to our house.

Neighbourhood Covid hopscotch is now almost a block long. I think it was up to 250.

And Zoom is well established as the new classroom. I'm taking a six week painting class in composition, design and process.

The covid stay-at-home routine is just that – routine. Same old same old. I try to shake it up a bit by walking a different route every morning and carefully planning the occasional errand outing. But today, out of the blue, the US Air Force injected some excitement into this sleepy little Canadian hillside beach town.

White Rock is quiet except for the noise of occasional motorcycles and modified showy cars that cruise Marine Drive on weekends. People who visit and sit on our deck comment on the silence. The houses are built against the hill, facing the water, oriented so that the sound of daily living is directed in one direction. You are generally facing the quiet side of the block below. The predominant sounds from the Semiahmoo and Boundary Bay areas are seagulls, Canada geese and eagles, both bald and golden. Other sky borne items include kites, motorized hang gliders, small planes and the occasional RCMP helicopter. Once a year or so, the Snowbirds do a flyover. Until this morning. 

We were enjoying our morning coffee when I hear Chuck say "Would you look at this." From between the houses immediately below I see and hear a HUGE military plane accelerating and flying extremely low. When presented with something totally out of context, your mind roams allover the map:

• an imminent plane crash?
• what's going on current eventwise that might precipitate an attack? Certainly this is overkill for this morning's headline regarding Canada's "flooding" the US market with aluminum. Isn't it sad we think this way? 
• a show-off pilot saluting a Canadian romantic interest?

This military behemoth, we're talking 174 feet long (53 meters) with a wingspan of 169 feet, 10 inches (51.75 meters), circles around and comes in for another pass, although slightly further away. The engines, the same as are on a Boeing 757, are accelerating hard from an altitude of 200 feet, the whistling sound reminiscent of a terrorist attack, or last ditch effort prior to crashing. At one point it looks as though it was coming right at us. I suggest we go to the basement. Nah, says C. Someone is putting on a show. If that's the case, somebody's in trouble, as I doubt you can cross international boundaries for that purpose. All that happened in a fleeting moment, then it took a sudden turn and hightailed it directly south. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turns out it was an Air Force Globemaster conducting a border interception exercise. They took a sudden detour over White Rock due to traffic at their planned landing site. That would be the Canada – US border. What are they planning for? Scary. This was the second pass. The first was much closer.

The rest of the story, as Paul Harvey used to say:

Yes, there was a military training event happening, but no, the plane wasn't diverted from the planned airport. It was a specially arranged, with permission, fly-by over the White Rock Pier – so Daddy (the pilot), separated from his family because of the Covid border closure, could "wave" to his four-year-old son. You were right, dear. Sort of. It was a preschooler instead of a romantic interest. 

On a calmer note – knitting progress. Noro Silk Garden Lite Mitred Square Blanket, a third done.

 

That's how long we've been home from Bali and adapted our lives to the new vocabulary: we’re maintaining our bubble, physical distancing, masking up, washing, sanitizing, and all the rest. How well it's working is evidenced, not only by the fact that we appear to remain covid-free, but we are free of any traces of common cold and the kinds of GI problems that are caused by surface bacteria. The world may be turning into a healthier place as the result of this. 

In that 120 days we've had five birthdays. B and his GF, were the first at a time when we thought that travel might be restricted for weeks and anticipated seeing them soon. They're still in Bali with a huge time difference, so FaceTime was what we managed for now.

C's was a big number that required a family Zoom party where we played online Jackbox.

 

M's, exactly two months later, was a four person celebration.

E wasn't here for her's but I gave her a painting of her 18ish-year-old cat, Chompers. I took the photo last year at Easter. He was basking in a warm ray of light, giving me his look, and I told him I'm gong to paint you. And here he is, another year older and still with us, so to speak.

 

In addition to the gulls, of course, which C has named Poopy, Crappy and Splat, the streaky evidence of which can be seen on the roof. I had chosen more innocuous names, but agreed to go with his, as long as Crappy's original one was changed. I'll leave that to your imagination.

That's Splat, discovering his little gull voice.

I've succeeded in my goal of walking every street on the Semiahmoo Peninsula, 5K at a time. These daily walks close to home have revealed a variety of local beasts. I've seen deer, turtles, families of raccoons, bunnies, squirrels, and many kinds of birds – bald and golden eagles to crimson breasted house finches.

One of my favourite spots is Crescent Beach prior to 8:00a.m. It's quiet, fresh, and without the throngs that grow as the day develops, the critters make an appearance.

The early bird gets the fish. Herons by the dozens hang out at their favourite hunting waters. 

Cotton tails have plenty to eat in the grassy part of the park. 

Last week, when M and KC are here we even got in some time crabbing. We staked out a corner on the White Rock pier and were able to maintain a healthy distance from others. We left Crescent Beach pier one afternoon, though, when the crowds moved in, unmasked or with no regard to the concept of two metres. We caught two keepers as you can only take males of a certain size, but it provided a decent crabbatizer for dinner.

On the topic of fauna, I realized I never posted a photo of my last pet portrait, Prince the cat, posing regally on the back of the couch.

 

 

 

The Laura Nyro version of Up On The Roof was my favourite song in the early 1970's. It represented an island of calm in a time of turmoil in my teenage life.

Currently there's a lot going on up on the roof of the condo building across the street. We've been watching a family of gulls, from the time they started building their nest to the now weeks-old hatchlings exercising their wings in preparation for their first flight to come at around eight weeks of age. 

They are a messy noisy pain, but living near the ocean and whining about seagulls is like moving into a house near the airport and complaining about the sound of jet engines. Their lifespan is 20 years, so we might as well accept them as part of the landscape.

It started with three chicks, but one day there was a mess of feathers on the roof and we were down by one. It was probably attacked by a crow – sadly, crows and gulls steal from each other's nests. That, or taken as dinner by an eagle or raccoon. Gulls can lay eggs sequentially, so a while later, the remaining two were joined by a smaller sibling. They are quite cute all fuzzy and spotted and are fun to watch.

Their condo association had fake owls installed on the roof to deter the gulls from landing, but it obviously didn't work.

We've had a good view of them while working on our upper floor back deck. C had a vision of deck tiles and fake grass, transforming the vinyl coated deck into an inviting outdoor room. It ended up working well thanks to Craig's List, which he monitored diligently for the materials. 

It's amazing how much you can get done around the house when you have the time and nowhere to go. One major project was located literally around the house. We live on a small hillside lot above the beach. In keeping with our retirement plan, there is no lawn. We have a tiny front garden and two narrow strips of growing area in back of the house.

That wee little front garden yielded 12 giant bags of yard waste! C then pickaxed the roots out and sifted the dirt to remove a ton of rocks. His theory was there was an original rock garden that was covered over with dirt for a different look. Ready for planting we took two trips to nearby nurseries and exhausted our $200 of grocery store points in their garden centre.

I have a black thumb, but a good sense of design. Major kudos to C for his brawn, which produced this:

We especially like the two new trees, a weeping pussy willow and a Coral Japanese Maple, its red bark showing off in the winter.

 

That’s what my 4 yr old grandson calls it. And he’s also very good at using his “hamitizer.” Here in BC we seriously followed our orders from the medical health officer. We strictly maintained our bubble of two, saving ourselves for the phase two allowable contact with six people, in anticipation of the visit from daughter E and family.

We were all supposed to be camping in Washington and Oregon, but the border remains closed, and won’t open until the numbers in the US decrease. They made the decision to proceed with a shorter visit. There was double incentive as both sets of grandparents are located within a five minute drive.

It’s a little heartbreaking to see pediatric sized masks. A pandemic is something you might want to tell your grandkids about as a distant event, not something you want them to live through. I questioned both of them about their current lives in the time of Covid, and it seems they’re adapting well.

We’ve had lots of fun despite the rain, but for tonight, I’ll cut it short as I’m typing one handed due to an altercation with the hot metal part of the handle of my pizza peel. The beginning was fun, though, making pizza together on the BBQ.

I was fortunate to be in the company of their parents, a safety manager and a nurse.

And may wonders never cease, as the initial intent of this blog was about knitting. The by-rist has given me the gift of time and the opportunity to open containers of yarn, untouched since our move several years ago. While still in the working world aka earning a paycheque, I did an excellent job of bolstering the yarn stash knowing finances would be tighter in retirement. I was embarrassed to find thirty skeins of Noro silk blend yarn and immediately put twenty into service. The mitred square afghan may have to be put aside for a few days considering the current circumstances, but it’s one that won’t be ignored for long.

Do you know the first verse to Over the Rainbow? The song doesn't start with the word "Somewhere" as generally heard in popular versions. Here are the lyrics:

“When all the world is a hopeless jumble
And the raindrops tumble all around
Heaven opens a magic lane

When all the clouds darken up the skyway
There's a rainbow highway to be found
Leading from your windowpane

To a place behind the sun
Just a step beyond the rain…”

The world certainly seems a hopeless jumble right now, and just in time we looked out our window to see this, the symbol of hope, gratitude, diversity and fresh beginnings. Fingers crossed.