Life's a Stitch

i’m happy to report that the real estate closing was accomplished on June 1, two weeks early. Thanks to our determined niece, the place was sorted and packed up in two days. It was so frustrating not being there, but probably a good thing because I would have kept far more stuff. If there were any items she wasn’t sure of, she’d send a photo of a group of things. I’d circle what I wanted, x’d out what I didn’t and emailed the photo back. Every so often I get a flash of something I might have kept, but it’s too late now, and best not to be accumulating more stuff.

The most difficult part was the inability to say goodbye to a place our family loved for 29 years almost to the day. When we leave a house I have a farewell ritual that I was unable to accomplish, it feels undone. In the scheme of things, though, this was minor compared to the covid cancellations that others have experienced.

There is a tree-lined road at the entrance to the community. It was like a filter for life. When we drove through, we’d leave our troubles at the beginning, enjoy our time at our place and pick them up on our way home. It would have been hard to drive through those for the last time. Officially, anyway. We’re lucky to still have friends there who we can visit when the border opens. 

While isolated, life continues busily around us. We didn't think it possible, but we managed to sell our beloved family vacation home of 29 years.

What a whirlwind. We received a solid offer subject to inspection. I think this was the first inspection of any of the seven units in the building, age 43, at least that I was aware of. I was afraid of what we might learn despite the fact that recently all the siding was torn off and replaced, sheathing and insulation replaced and all rot and damage repaired. You never know. Well I guess we did know that the attic insulation, built to the specifications of the time, was insufficient. I ask myself why we never fixed that. Who knows?

The prospective buyers indicated that they would secure estimates and renegotiate their offer. At the same time we received a backup offer for the same price! There's nothing like a second offer to get things going. The original party immediately removed their subjects, and as we say in Canada, Bob's your uncle. 

So there's this little detail between us and our place in Washington, called an international border. A border which is closed solid unless you are an essential worker. We thought we'd have a chance as real estate was deemed essential and we were part of a deal that would benefit an American as well as the American economy.

Our buyers, realizing we were in a pickle, offered to buy our furniture. Sold. However, they wanted the closets and kitchen cleared out. We gave it our best shot and arrived at the crossing armed with real estate papers and a long string of printed emails. Nope. Not a chance. They listed for us all the people to whom they had denied entry. It covered the lifespan from births to deathbed visits and of course real estate deals fall solidly between the two. We were informed by the border supervisor that "the reason it's closed is because you (Canada) wants it that way and we (America) want it open." Rather than get into a debate about public health, we left.

What to do, what to do. The buyers indicated they would close as soon as we could retrieve our belongings. Enter Chuck's niece, who despite the fact that she's working during these troubled times, will make room to help us out. Phew. I ordered packing supplies online for her to pick up, and begged neighbours to let us store our boxes until the border reopens. The anticipated date is June 21, but Canada has made it clear that the border won't open until the Covid numbers in the US improve. 

I am always on pins and needles in that time of real estate limbo, between acceptance of an offer and closing, where the buyer can pull out for any reason and only forfeit their deposit. I will be glad when it’s final and the money is in the bank. So, as we used to say in all-girls Catholic high school, "Keep your fingers crossed and say three Hail Mary's." We are hoping to close in the coming week. 

My long early morning walks give me balance and many flowers, fodder for future paintings.

This is my favourite so far.  C emerged from his downstairs sawdusty lair with this – an accent river table for the living room made out of mahogany from built in shelves in our previous house and cherry wood from our place in Washington state.

 

I've been creating in the kitchen: chorizo and lentil soup, cornbread and Portuguese egg tarts, like creme brûlée in puff pastry.

The painting continues, this time a very thick haired kitty. Thick as in a lot of layers of paint. A lot. Stay tuned. 

Out in front of our house the last of the tulips were blooming. This one was poking through the maidenhair fern and will make a great painting, especially with that water droplet clinging to the right side. 

Two more dogs in the Pandemic pet portrait series, both 8×10 watercolours. That makes six: Lola, Fifi, Maddie, JJ, and now, Zeppie and Missy.

Zeppie

Missy

I’m not the only one being creative this pandemic. We are fortunate to be able to practice our passions on separate floors in the house. In other words we have two areas stuffed with task oriented clutter. Oops, make that three, my dining room table has been drafted into the mask making effort. I go upstairs and C goes down, as if we're both going off to work. But the downstairs product came upstairs. After two years in the new house, we have a fireplace mantle. It was like magic. We lived in the last house for 18 years and although discussed at length, a mantle never appeared. This was just what I was hoping for.

 

 

^{It's obvious by now, having completed nearly 1000 miles on the Camino de Santiago, I like to walk.}

^{The pandemic has added an adjustment to my walking habits. Remember PacMan? The little pac people would happily mozy along until a ghost appeared. Wacka wacka wacka wacka was playing in the background. The options were two: eat the ghost or retreat by turning the next corner. I walk in different neighbourhoods, all with wide streets offering plenty of room for physical distancing. With no set route in mind, when I see a walker coming toward me or hear a runner approaching from behind, I turn the next corner. I notice others using this method as well. A drone view would capture a human PacMan game in progress.}

^{My pandemic walking has taken on a Camino approach, but only carrying ID and a debit card, the physical load is lighter. Early mornings are my preference with bird song, few people and their well loved dogs. This morning there were magical pink flurries of cherry blossoms, which had accumulated on the sides of the streets, to be shuffled through like autumn leaves, silent instead of crunchy. The lilacs are starting to bloom, happy perfume from my childhood. One foot in front of the other, the rhythmic muffled thuds of the rubber tipped hiking poles, paying no attention to distance, time or route. It's heavenly. Meditation on two feet.}

^{I come home to my watercolour painting, commissions for pet paintings are popular right now. Mostly dogs and they bring me joy because I watch them come alive without having to walk or feed them or be responsible for their health care or grooming. I know the painting is done when I can imagine the feel of their fur. My recent dogs started with last month's schnoodles, Lola nd Fifi, followed by Maddie and JJ:}

I can legitimately say I'm working from home like lots of others these days and I like doing it.

Figuratively, not literally. Looking back on our last full day in Bali it brings back the joy of time with family and friends, mixed with huge anxiety resulting from the decision to return home or not. As our trip was shortened to nine days it was important to leave our immediate tourist area and see the surrounding area.

M and KC and their friends generously invited us for a visit at their jungle villa near Ubud. We hired their driver for the day and rode the hour an a half from the city, through the craft villages each with their own specialty: the stone workers with blocks and blocks of statues, the wood shops filled with furniture and sculptures, the visual artists galleries and shops. It was torturous not having the time to stop, consoling ourselves with the mantra of "next time." 

We arrived at an emerald rice patty, serenaded by the quacking of ducks. These are working birds, herded from patty to patty in order to keep insects under control. The word for duck in Bahasa is bebek. I like that onomatopoeiac word, a combination of quack and beak. We walked a high narrow path between the patties:

Through a jungley garden:

Down steep stairs until the house appeared, carved into the side of the hill:

These luxurious types of accommodation are available throughout the island, complete with pool and staff. the cost is reasonable when shared with others. 

There is a restaurant type menu, and the staff cook your food to order. The fridge is filled with cold drinks, you help yourself and keep track of what you owe. We ate lunch to the hum of jungle cicadas and tree frogs. At least we didn't see the golden orb spiders we found in town, harmless, but including legs, the size of your hand.

Come on a little tour around:

C and KC posed in the bathtubs, one wood, the other copper.

After a dip in the pool we very reluctantly ended our day, and our trip, and headed back to Sanur.

We wound our way back through the rice patties.

Passed women on their weekly trek to the temple, balancing their offerings:

It was rush hour in the city as we wove through the multitudes of motor scooters, some carrying entire families. Small scooters call for tiny gas stations.

Sometimes you buy gas from a jar at a corner store.

So that was that, the last day of our abbreviated visit to Bali. Some day we hope to return.

On a brighter note, this week marked B's 30th birthday in Bali! How did that happen? He sweet girlfriend ordered in 40 kilos of rose petals and surprised him with a beflowered bath and pool: 

Isolation is not so bad in paradise!

 

 

Our friends and family meme.. You know it's a pandemic when:

– your meditation app tells you to take a series of deep breaths and you are afraid to.

– the meditation app tells you to select what you’re feeling and admonishes you for picking too many emotions. 

– you discuss with your partner how many sheets of toilet paper you use at one sitting. 

– you are sooo excited to receive your bidet toilet seat. Who needs toilet paper?

– you receive sweet messages from two former German students, just checking in to see how you're doing.

–  the date for grocery store click and collect is two weeks out.

– you calculate it will take 50 laps around the house to get to 10,000 steps. 

– C suggests we have a couple of nights away from home. In the camper. In the driveway. 

– you subscribe to an automated text messaging service so you are guaranteed to receive a “message of hope” each day. 

– you’re excited to find two protective masks in the workshop.

– you accidentally touch your mouth then spray it with hand sanitizer. 

– you look outside and see several larger than the allowed rv’s that you’ve never noticed before. Figured out they belong to snowbirds who have returned early but can’t get their rv’s into storage because they're required by law to be in quarantine. 

– hopscotch has grown fromm eight squares to 48.

– your kid is so bouncy he bounces into your windshield and cracks it four ways. 

– at work they tell you to limit all non-essential meetings and to use Skype for business. Then tell you to limit non-essential use of Skype for business because it keeps crashing. 

– all the ichiban is sold out except for the miso flavour. 

– Starbucks is closed at two pm on a Wednesday

– there’s no such thing as rush hour anymore. 

– as a nurse they tell you you might have to go back to the floors when you haven’t worked there in ten years  

– you’re granted access to the hospital only after passing screening tests by an entourage in damn near hazmat suits, and the proceed to walk around with the rest of the public wearing no protection at all. 

– the lady at the liquor store says it’s been like Christmas and the average ring out today was over $400.

– your speech delayed kid can pronounce hand sanitizer but not potato. 

– when gas is 0.66 a litre ($1.78 US per gallon).

And the heartbreaking one:

You know it’s a pandemic when you let a man come into the hospital for open heart surgery, but turn his wife away at the door. Or when you tell parents that they cannot both be with their dying child at the same time.

How did we get to this?

Pandemic March 18th:

Pandemic April 3rd:

The timing for Easter’s message of hope and renewal is much needed.

Considering we've successfully made it through our 14 day post travel quarantine period, paradise, AKA Bali, certainly seems like a dream in our distant past. I've been thinking of the food. As in restaurant menus at an affordable price. At a neighbourhood cafe these are lunches that costs an average of $2.50 Cdn. 

A meal at our favourite restaurant, a step up from casual, runs about $6.50 for an entree and starts with a sample of tropical fruit. 

Even at a more expensive hotel restaurant on the beach, the ossobucco is $16.

The wine will set you back at $9-13 a glass! Just like in China, a bottle of Australian wine will cost $30 at the grocery store, the same as you can get at Trader Joe's for $8. 16 bottles of decent wine, bought through a connection for our planned monthlong stay, cost over 4,000,000 rupiah, $400 Canadian dollars.

A king's ransom! Beer is a more economical choice. 

Rides are reasonable. We hired a driver to take us to Ubud, 80 minutes away, and the charge was $20 each way. The car could hold four. Most in town lifts were $2-4. Airport transport to Sanur should run about $15, even though tourists are often quoted $60!

Rooms can be economical. Guest houses with pools, in neighbourhoods walking distance to the beach, have rooms with a private bath for $25 a night and an Air B&B townhouse condo runs about $60/nt. A high end brand name hotel has rooms for $250, not our style. 

The island thrives on tourism. I hope it will survive the pandemic. I dream of going back.

If, a month ago, someone told you where the world would be today, would you have believed it?

You know those books that randomly hop back and forward in time? The first sentences disorienting as you decipher where on the calendar it belongs? It can be annoying. No more so than arriving on a blog called Life’s a Stitch with nary a knitting project to be found. I’m going to have to do something about that, but I’m attached to the name, originally dubbed by my then 14-year-old son. Back to my time warp. We are home in White Rock, but will continue the blog hopscotching between Bali and BC.

We are on Day 13 of quarantine, thankfully with no symptoms of Covid. We're doing well, still married. Fortunately I don't have a bored bone in my body. Ask my kids. If they complained of boredom, and they stopped pretty quickly, knowing my answer would be: "Children who know how to read can never be bored."

Well I've made it through two weeks without opening a book and watching a total of 80 minutes of TV. There was a lot of cooking, large batches with enough to freeze for future meals. After my last post I made Greek Stifado, Nasi Goreng, Ratatouille and stuffed peppers. As soon as I graduate from quarantine I'll use my one allowed shopping trip per week to go grocery shopping. 

I filled my time with way too much online news, CNN, BBC and CBC and of course the nonstop almost 24 hour drone of CBC radio in the background. I spent time writing letters to a raft of government officials regarding some inefficient ways they are spending my tax money to address the Covid crisis. I was pleased to receive a call from our local MP's office to have a discussion in more detail.

While in quarantine we weren't allowed to leave our property, so to fulfill my need to walk I did laps around our house. Mind you, our lot is only 30 feet wide so one lap equalled 200 steps in two minutes and included 15 stairs. I must have looked like a caged tiger to the neighbours. 

And of course I painted. I intended to do a pen and ink drawing of Bryant's girlfriend's mother's two dogs as a thank you for her hospitality in Bali. Once the drawing was done, C said I needed to paint it instead. That's a difference of a minimum of ten hours of work. I asked him if he thought I needed art therapy considering world circumstances. No, he said, I think it will look better. So I followed his suggestion. Meet Lola and Sofia (FiFi).

NOTE: This post was started prior to our return home due to the travel advisory. More Bali posts to come.

What would our group have talked about without current world circumstances? Every day, as things change, as possibilities for leaving shrink, we strategize our exit/remain in place plans. 

Today for distraction we chose activities with low social contact. Late breakfast at a restaurant with two other patrons.

A scooter ride to see Blue Lagoon, again with two others.

Down to the deserted Secret Beach for a swim:

Then to a geocache at an empty bar. 

Four of our group went scuba diving and snorkelling. They were alone with the instructor on the dive boat.

Today’s map just got a little uglier. The hot weather theory is diminishing.

We’re trying to be responsible visitors. Last night we avoided a popular restaurant and ordered in a huge amount of sushi. Then dismantled the boxes for recycling, sort of a deconstructive origami exercise.