tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17994757098517452402023-11-15T22:48:31.862-08:00Lori and Jack's Great Canadian Adventurewe're home, but it's still an adventure...Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-17764216617174265112014-09-28T21:51:00.001-07:002014-09-28T21:51:23.392-07:00Gwaii Haanas: Hard to Spell, Harder to Explain<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Gwaii
Haanas, AKA “Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve and Haida Heritage Site” is a protected archipelago of southern Haida Gwaii. <span></span></span>The best way, or indeed the only way, to see Gwaii Haanas is
by boat. We chose a sail trip. Or maybe the sail trip chose us. In September,
when the kids [are supposed to] go back to school, most charter trips dry up.
But there was one last trip going out, and it was on Sail Piraeus, a 44’ wooden
ketch that immediately makes me want to channel my inner Captain Jack Sparrow. </span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfF4Y5jj_o5xPNEQQpFx-6rLHuYw7OX-LIAM5hoXnW2xZI6p0u0Pr8jjL4agWe1LWF1S5ntm91Gpp4oFh_5NM80u0LCAPIlfvan2pSziYf9MqcmgRIALyeR70PvIyzE5CcdIGM0BkwaP5/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfF4Y5jj_o5xPNEQQpFx-6rLHuYw7OX-LIAM5hoXnW2xZI6p0u0Pr8jjL4agWe1LWF1S5ntm91Gpp4oFh_5NM80u0LCAPIlfvan2pSziYf9MqcmgRIALyeR70PvIyzE5CcdIGM0BkwaP5/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+728.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Piraeus"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jYjsoLMevIlF4MsECAdHxc_XXZ2lDjYkfQEwv0FmLxgVeb1hUjk6YaJL9VD8pW-zXS2VHiMsF2gyfizEvNBQGucJtd64pW6RDheIZtBwA1HpnN-wxltFG3GN4UOXdQ6bcizoL_XKX4HU/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jYjsoLMevIlF4MsECAdHxc_XXZ2lDjYkfQEwv0FmLxgVeb1hUjk6YaJL9VD8pW-zXS2VHiMsF2gyfizEvNBQGucJtd64pW6RDheIZtBwA1HpnN-wxltFG3GN4UOXdQ6bcizoL_XKX4HU/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+825.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First morning is nothing but fog</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rXyYzNBUiYbWUd1xCviFGMCo9Olx2PEFYsK-3_g7HPaLGXIMXfGftTEflIPq8gbkBP8TZDkTJ7QixAmNrDdJFSdMTCgx5jB-H0e4dl_qEI9Whg1dGxgoQ65QFA3SKFlLNj-JZMKHMryC/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rXyYzNBUiYbWUd1xCviFGMCo9Olx2PEFYsK-3_g7HPaLGXIMXfGftTEflIPq8gbkBP8TZDkTJ7QixAmNrDdJFSdMTCgx5jB-H0e4dl_qEI9Whg1dGxgoQ65QFA3SKFlLNj-JZMKHMryC/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2333.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbop7BY-goDIvO4zbKGSbIPY3klUlckQYgzdmTeI47EL5pritkXjoBVO4ZHNfUAC_0wg5JTt0CpXNG1YUckuadRl1jUEhVU18PuUPrkV6aq4UKeaJRCarGS6HSgzgNjspeHF33Ax2y4pKL/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbop7BY-goDIvO4zbKGSbIPY3klUlckQYgzdmTeI47EL5pritkXjoBVO4ZHNfUAC_0wg5JTt0CpXNG1YUckuadRl1jUEhVU18PuUPrkV6aq4UKeaJRCarGS6HSgzgNjspeHF33Ax2y4pKL/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2340.JPG" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WaOQZ_LIQcIDylKLRAf27TZT1DQ-8NcF8ygzC2VQHl1vDPgpmirs0p0uWIPe0Du_DXBE-NylQhVY5KLBqi2YJQtCHAOLhgNqIWmIcAZSuMm5G7tCBh5f51mkspnvgUPEDdQhjnENL7x0/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WaOQZ_LIQcIDylKLRAf27TZT1DQ-8NcF8ygzC2VQHl1vDPgpmirs0p0uWIPe0Du_DXBE-NylQhVY5KLBqi2YJQtCHAOLhgNqIWmIcAZSuMm5G7tCBh5f51mkspnvgUPEDdQhjnENL7x0/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2448.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Aside: We had the great good fortune to be the only 2 guests
on the sailboat, so we had the deluxe treatment. Bunks were in the bow, so our
feet were slightly above our heads. This, plus the total darkness, turned my
sleeps into blank unconsciousness. Jack on the other hand kept having bizarre
dreams which he would promptly forget, but would wake in a surreal afterglow.
Or maybe it was the Dramamine. He, unfortunately, was not born with the gene
that let’s Garcia girls love all swing-set, swoopy, roller-coastery things. In
any case, despite a foggy start day, which introduced us to the
otherworldliness of the place, the weather gods blessed us. Day 2 included a 6
or 7 hour tack with all 4 sails unfurled, port-side gunwales buried in the waves.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQEQrVKQgG7xbNn08MJLFbrMfQ8T7nTz_PaMnoqFKcWVnzgs-5UDcRD7mkIP1fZTg-Osye4bZpbT1wIMr3dpD8Om7SHsFc7YcRbx4NFFxwUhnwuIhj1s_IkFDrLPE7AHBglulgdIxZXoUp/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQEQrVKQgG7xbNn08MJLFbrMfQ8T7nTz_PaMnoqFKcWVnzgs-5UDcRD7mkIP1fZTg-Osye4bZpbT1wIMr3dpD8Om7SHsFc7YcRbx4NFFxwUhnwuIhj1s_IkFDrLPE7AHBglulgdIxZXoUp/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1390.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Anyway, back to Gwaii Haanas: When Teddy Roosevelt
originally envisioned the National Parks system in the U.S., it included
allowing the natives to continue living their traditional way of life within
these areas. It didn’t happen, but this is some of what Gwaii Haanas tries to
be. The only people who live there, outside of some grandfathered privately
held parcels, are known as “Watchmen”. These are Haida people who hold the
responsibility of on-site stewardship of the ancient Haida villages, now ruins,
which are dotted throughout the park. They live in modern-ish cabins, with only
radio contact to the outside world. No alcohol, no internet, no family, just a
few other Watchmen for the duration of the summer. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKpR9ueGvlkLl3QOSH3dQwGIvnROjVWLeEJc4Dj0qNEe6bnt9eyPsvIugp4wzWzLKLccRpzE0mCYK2PPE9EyIXCKL7p2kGupxe3K9SW_tvxJ-AP1ZEBiPyUX8jhm7Fo966jq6WvuD0wu2/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKpR9ueGvlkLl3QOSH3dQwGIvnROjVWLeEJc4Dj0qNEe6bnt9eyPsvIugp4wzWzLKLccRpzE0mCYK2PPE9EyIXCKL7p2kGupxe3K9SW_tvxJ-AP1ZEBiPyUX8jhm7Fo966jq6WvuD0wu2/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2482.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watchman in training</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Their job includes touring guests through the village sites
and explaining some history, making sure the sites are cared for, but not
preserved. While there’s a willingness to slow the decay by cutting grass etc.,
the notion of preservation has been rejected. Wooden things decay, the forest
eats them up. That’s the way it goes. And goes quickly in the rainforest.
Long-house sites are now most easily distinguished by the 4 trees, one on each
corner, where a seed fell on an upright corner post, took root, and took over. <span> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-RrtpV5Rh1lrFa00EyoCB5gOZmoL26W1P2GtmWvKcHXGq1eyRhyW3zCPriwzeUMkQg6XRoc8LuM5g-WM-5XLleAzpyOtE3R1jNKC40DTL2JgJfY9QjLCQ1dA3Q5aHqfiNaGdstLYOJjD/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv-RrtpV5Rh1lrFa00EyoCB5gOZmoL26W1P2GtmWvKcHXGq1eyRhyW3zCPriwzeUMkQg6XRoc8LuM5g-WM-5XLleAzpyOtE3R1jNKC40DTL2JgJfY9QjLCQ1dA3Q5aHqfiNaGdstLYOJjD/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+936.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">former location of a long-house corner post</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUaS5qUr7qqGVUeKNnElMcLyR9YP6XLhX0M_aCxuwe2c3B2fKhZiyHP9PV66Cv2L4GOnunKfIZNhxpGUUu2-HBdya_5VkWlGXiJtz5ZSI2FixMHToZXkVSa_CVzj2WTpDkIT12xIfxRrU/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUaS5qUr7qqGVUeKNnElMcLyR9YP6XLhX0M_aCxuwe2c3B2fKhZiyHP9PV66Cv2L4GOnunKfIZNhxpGUUu2-HBdya_5VkWlGXiJtz5ZSI2FixMHToZXkVSa_CVzj2WTpDkIT12xIfxRrU/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1675.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">decay happens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If they were living in the longhouses, things would be
different. But the poles, call them totem poles, but that doesn’t seem quite
correct; the poles have a life and a lifespan that will end. If people were
still living in these places, the poles would fall, but a new and updated one
would be carved and erected in its place. With no one present it makes no sense
to erect a new one. The pole would have said who lives at this house, who they
married, their ancestry, and anyone approaching would know whether or not they
would be welcome. If no one lives there, what’s the point?</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsxE2dOqiwWjgplVC7ayzdIaeBFjoODIsjNSV0kvR8j3zqfH1Dd60Oma4a_hbRgVHx_l8oacRfyfvLknFYtHc_rRCMAQ46S1M2W7tWyCKXS3GJ_Nd8vLzhTM_HQGHpdORnvSRWiOS-FbGr/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2032.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsxE2dOqiwWjgplVC7ayzdIaeBFjoODIsjNSV0kvR8j3zqfH1Dd60Oma4a_hbRgVHx_l8oacRfyfvLknFYtHc_rRCMAQ46S1M2W7tWyCKXS3GJ_Nd8vLzhTM_HQGHpdORnvSRWiOS-FbGr/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+2032.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a Tanu long-house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span> There is actually one new pole, the Legacy Pole, which was
erected in 2013 to celebrate the 20<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the successful Haida
fight to end clear-cut logging on Lyell Island.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOzJXps9qlH9Inh3EMqnQtcl1QrqKXAw5B8yJiqQofBnB5Q2iUyagD2tr4lqcjTROF0YVWw7OnUx36xdHyrykR-ht9nqOawALM8AamcjZ98q-EcWYIfdZeQzKU7fbZRIu7InBsf8EmJaaf/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOzJXps9qlH9Inh3EMqnQtcl1QrqKXAw5B8yJiqQofBnB5Q2iUyagD2tr4lqcjTROF0YVWw7OnUx36xdHyrykR-ht9nqOawALM8AamcjZ98q-EcWYIfdZeQzKU7fbZRIu7InBsf8EmJaaf/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1032.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"5 Good People" on the Legacy Pole represents the elders who linked arms to stop the logging. (Note the gumboots)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Also, the notion of collecting or preserving things is not
really a Haida thing.<span> </span>Intellectual
copyright, however, is incredibly important. The notion of dancing a dance,
singing a song, or telling a story that is not yours is just not acceptable. I
sympathise. <span> </span>I’ve had the experience of
someone telling me one of my stories, and I was quite quick to say, “That’s MY
story!” Intellectual copyright seems to be a newer thing to western culture,
but here it is ancient. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5TGIaqSApPCXR9xNklaa-r-r-gicLDR-pwika9_KlMetF6k2EgHbaGPx_MZXSp3-E0YOnYgtJ-c4XyaFu7GWpVa49YzFtkEhmgaigQU63o_RMwYTEEyx-AkXkIMun4OxL3OXFTX-7FMW/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5TGIaqSApPCXR9xNklaa-r-r-gicLDR-pwika9_KlMetF6k2EgHbaGPx_MZXSp3-E0YOnYgtJ-c4XyaFu7GWpVa49YzFtkEhmgaigQU63o_RMwYTEEyx-AkXkIMun4OxL3OXFTX-7FMW/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1683.JPG" height="320" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haida Historian, telling THEIR story</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT8vrzye3S1Jx3Va4U_QDkr2u9ZaIHGysEQqFz700dlT0GOUhyx9jyyJLFevKhFr2d9n_VrDGCgUs5X0wTARi1I3qoyWz7ycjH7AmRcO9CyZ4v5-cTD_vsAv3Tlv6JWTty1xafpz27vz0/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT8vrzye3S1Jx3Va4U_QDkr2u9ZaIHGysEQqFz700dlT0GOUhyx9jyyJLFevKhFr2d9n_VrDGCgUs5X0wTARi1I3qoyWz7ycjH7AmRcO9CyZ4v5-cTD_vsAv3Tlv6JWTty1xafpz27vz0/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+1686.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Still, reading “Klee Wyck” by Emily Carr, I realize how
quickly things have degraded since her time. Her descriptions of Tanu and the
totem poles there make me wish I could see them as she did. But like the joke
says, “Did you hear about the new Buddhist vacuum cleaner? No attachments!” Visiting
Tanu, I am quickly brought to the real issues at hand. The captain of the
Piraeus, Bill, had missed a dinner invitation by one of the Watchmen here. It’s
a sore point. Hospitality is not readily rejected and it takes a lot of
explaining as to why he needed to get his sailboat out of harm’s way of a
projected storm. Mary is not entirely placated, but the sore point quickly has
become a butt of a joke. It’s become a means to create further connection, and
therefore commitment, between people. If I am obligated to you, then that means
that we are a community. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglcIONsDFg6V3oEaW-wvp4HVWtMOYDuB6_874AgUPfXNxUSRDc5JIPbKp9s1SnAeXROTLYkW82JcICIYDiEogOgyEby86UyBuoA6S5SoajbC-OYVfrN2YezsYPeqLqXilMddAYyjNvQkvC/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglcIONsDFg6V3oEaW-wvp4HVWtMOYDuB6_874AgUPfXNxUSRDc5JIPbKp9s1SnAeXROTLYkW82JcICIYDiEogOgyEby86UyBuoA6S5SoajbC-OYVfrN2YezsYPeqLqXilMddAYyjNvQkvC/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+949.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watchmen at Tanu</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-53220005305094261862014-09-23T12:52:00.002-07:002014-09-23T12:52:53.766-07:00An Historic Treaty Between Nations<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlVjq6RH7AF7bgfQiaUc4aCLj6HZ0JMwbfXKLe-EOoEl2OoOd-UnB-B_Q05-S9cBvFvyekW8EaH1D6irZ8sWlsaSrTlFsjZg_Gx5ghFtd9Mn8nryf9-gQ6xAvA6PN2Oj3zoTG23uf7Kze/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3350.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlVjq6RH7AF7bgfQiaUc4aCLj6HZ0JMwbfXKLe-EOoEl2OoOd-UnB-B_Q05-S9cBvFvyekW8EaH1D6irZ8sWlsaSrTlFsjZg_Gx5ghFtd9Mn8nryf9-gQ6xAvA6PN2Oj3zoTG23uf7Kze/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3350.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An historic treaty between nations</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSV34l2D4x43HvFowuwu5DGhY8SpYgg3jfYww5Zd76coiSTI7qAgyJ_5dWlm2qg8_1ge64cZsXiiRN-XeXq6VFLAim7iwoftJY_41laxgEQnuOxR_zaoHMPR9ZYzZ_Ng9KaJlIyXjViAu/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKSV34l2D4x43HvFowuwu5DGhY8SpYgg3jfYww5Zd76coiSTI7qAgyJ_5dWlm2qg8_1ge64cZsXiiRN-XeXq6VFLAim7iwoftJY_41laxgEQnuOxR_zaoHMPR9ZYzZ_Ng9KaJlIyXjViAu/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3315.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eagle down dancing by hereditary chief</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On Saturday, while the rest of the world continued to fall apart,
two groups of people with a history of warring, signed a peace agreement. A few
outsiders showed up. The press did not. We were lucky to be amongst the outsiders.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_SIdBRfQqe3QP-toNtAt8UnwaMsdoIZxrUMTbXaWObYGu_IYbKirjtYwYS_u3qw8B0dTNDswbaSQZjAc2pnTcbA71n-_cyglEnmDk_a3Li3YUVCLhAq3cuOiBsD_LQYraWTZ-4Y_Mqoz/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_SIdBRfQqe3QP-toNtAt8UnwaMsdoIZxrUMTbXaWObYGu_IYbKirjtYwYS_u3qw8B0dTNDswbaSQZjAc2pnTcbA71n-_cyglEnmDk_a3Li3YUVCLhAq3cuOiBsD_LQYraWTZ-4Y_Mqoz/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3329.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The invitation said to wear "full regalia"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It was a potlatch, held by the Haida Nation with the
Heiltsuk Nation as honoured guests. It was done in a traditional way in Old Masset,
Haida Gwaii. Jack and I showed up 30 minutes early in order to get a good seat,
but seats were hard to find by then. We stayed for over 10 hours, until my sciatic
nerve was demanding more attention than the Heiltsuk dancers. It was
exhausting, but I felt like a wimp, seeing the elders, some quite frail, sitting
there patiently through the ceremonies, while I snuck out. We heard later that
it wasn’t over until 5 am.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-atjcdtAyhAJMxskZrP2Cixk-ZjQyDyUS78jnuAnVm2muxbG13PXVcRt85BmA3fCaQaHKdJiftg8Cou7k9h-YoKfmhViBplJcYNvvy1acroOc9NWsw1HfPZ4lDHbV14SvJ_qoop-QTHVO/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3387.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-atjcdtAyhAJMxskZrP2Cixk-ZjQyDyUS78jnuAnVm2muxbG13PXVcRt85BmA3fCaQaHKdJiftg8Cou7k9h-YoKfmhViBplJcYNvvy1acroOc9NWsw1HfPZ4lDHbV14SvJ_qoop-QTHVO/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3387.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hereditary chiefs wearing wool & ermineskin in an overheated gymnasium.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I’d heard of potlatches, but never experienced one. It is a
super-human endeavor on the part of the hosts. In payment for witnessing an
important event, guests are greeted, fed, given entertainment, fed more, given
gifts and fed. Did I mention that they fed us? The apples were just to get us
over the munchies until the elk stew which held us over to the main meal. It
was my first experience with herring roe on kelp, (k’waak? I think it was
called) plus halibut, potatoes, rice, smoked salmon, and then dessert. And a “guest”
is anyone who shows up. There is no sense of gate-crashing.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgbgVFMqS8TtdDcCr79tW124ukQ0uaLCredfWPItEh-2dCWBOPyKvtZDrzff-i36cjmFk5iJkNX9zlclTawq4CTYubmeykgtG4RzUvvLgWaOdc8US9v8ySMTrCcFLNKRNZ_Ah_kAdZyzy/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3416.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgbgVFMqS8TtdDcCr79tW124ukQ0uaLCredfWPItEh-2dCWBOPyKvtZDrzff-i36cjmFk5iJkNX9zlclTawq4CTYubmeykgtG4RzUvvLgWaOdc8US9v8ySMTrCcFLNKRNZ_Ah_kAdZyzy/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3416.JPG" height="320" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I mention they fed us?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The peace treaty itself wasn’t the Israelis and the
Palestinians, granted. These two groups haven’t been at war for a long time,
basketball notwithstanding. They’ve intermarried, held other potlatches, worked
together, but the formalized treaty symbolized a much larger notion. These
groups have been treated badly by the powers that be for centuries. They are
reclaiming the traditional ways, and finding power there. All the leaders, for
example, both hereditary and elected, are great dancers. When anything of
significance happens during the potlatch, people must dance it. (I would love
to see this at City Hall, or Parliament Hill. If you make a motion, you and the
seconder must dance it all around the circle.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEoAsxLMuEAnIEQyu6vIWGV98sfCBF390ZFr93mH_kV_lGS1jk6vaUAPncnM2GOpQilvIMkHteHg_2-LNXpxK5gNO4Rx8rxwm8M8kdFcLCHwetE8a2er9hI6-Gq3f6DNOFdVg2CI4JOgPZ/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3426.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEoAsxLMuEAnIEQyu6vIWGV98sfCBF390ZFr93mH_kV_lGS1jk6vaUAPncnM2GOpQilvIMkHteHg_2-LNXpxK5gNO4Rx8rxwm8M8kdFcLCHwetE8a2er9hI6-Gq3f6DNOFdVg2CI4JOgPZ/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3426.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elected leaders have to dance their agreements.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pHZpGIV48f-A0A54b24eyu4CaYrtn0OLcDbLp4Q0Jh-5AKSs5Di80chgUc5XYbh2QxYjoB3Zjhtv27jpR0DfSVw0s4YCy06HmJJCrFLSX1D6pPNe8q-vB7IxIqVnidmT-SxOH9RUWg7I/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7pHZpGIV48f-A0A54b24eyu4CaYrtn0OLcDbLp4Q0Jh-5AKSs5Di80chgUc5XYbh2QxYjoB3Zjhtv27jpR0DfSVw0s4YCy06HmJJCrFLSX1D6pPNe8q-vB7IxIqVnidmT-SxOH9RUWg7I/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3360.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The importance of bearing witness</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The significance of this treaty is a call to other first
nations to do the same. By standing together their voices become louder and more
powerful. The Haida’s effective control of their lands increases the volume of their
voice as well. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Land and power go hand in
hand, but the first nations assumption is that their treatment of the land and
oceans would be more about stewardship than extraction. They’ve battled the
logging companies on this land and see a bigger fight ahead about oil, gas,
pipelines and tankers. A formal treaty can only help in that fight.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5YrRJLFFyPvwbj2ywJ2TO5I2_wDkAvXiamH3rbewcbK2IblDI6ndWorn3Df1l0fdjMQ6I6EqjYudE-nOlAF0It39p7bGuLkwZImPsCpBytI0Q_ZRnJOguF-KEZ_WaIolNEmiY4GAgkHg/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5YrRJLFFyPvwbj2ywJ2TO5I2_wDkAvXiamH3rbewcbK2IblDI6ndWorn3Df1l0fdjMQ6I6EqjYudE-nOlAF0It39p7bGuLkwZImPsCpBytI0Q_ZRnJOguF-KEZ_WaIolNEmiY4GAgkHg/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3787.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No one has a "YES TANKERS" sign</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I’m sorry I didn’t stay long enough at the potlatch to get
the gifts: a live baby cedar tree, a silkscreened copper print, and other
beautiful and symbolic things. Ultimately, however, we gained something greater
by simply witnessing this event.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitYiHnhv_wb4bi2yL2bQLhV4Cj51QvL5fRfaAze-6jFP6cP-Ldd8itHZxvv4kqGak-nNCvizdkqBKP3qv9PtDm4s_bJzZsYffWgwNddg-rNAkNgnMz7lg5y1FvA486fj5s1rXp73zv6L0/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitYiHnhv_wb4bi2yL2bQLhV4Cj51QvL5fRfaAze-6jFP6cP-Ldd8itHZxvv4kqGak-nNCvizdkqBKP3qv9PtDm4s_bJzZsYffWgwNddg-rNAkNgnMz7lg5y1FvA486fj5s1rXp73zv6L0/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3382.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You must dance your gifts too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zLy3tM6CESK1lJGHCNWroNiBmetOMU4OrjqEWUlxUbQYXk_rp8lseX3Yy78-5yGeQx0GYUXrEksb4Crbnl6fBV3ehcrrY7TLysdxKq0n3XVVRRWQP16Qybccaq5diR-asuJBLU9ko9Do/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zLy3tM6CESK1lJGHCNWroNiBmetOMU4OrjqEWUlxUbQYXk_rp8lseX3Yy78-5yGeQx0GYUXrEksb4Crbnl6fBV3ehcrrY7TLysdxKq0n3XVVRRWQP16Qybccaq5diR-asuJBLU9ko9Do/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3403.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ravens + Eagles = Haida</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSf10Gl5izFnDd2p4lk2p1V-ZPwR2FZlZx1hDCJUxWgK77ykJ_58NgMr_dKLENgHEpHmOmCgkSiRh51nrQhCyvSj4L9phuAQ5sGbgXxLrzc0vjJp_HH6UtL7nJl5lR0Gw9NChzu8JfDa2-/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSf10Gl5izFnDd2p4lk2p1V-ZPwR2FZlZx1hDCJUxWgK77ykJ_58NgMr_dKLENgHEpHmOmCgkSiRh51nrQhCyvSj4L9phuAQ5sGbgXxLrzc0vjJp_HH6UtL7nJl5lR0Gw9NChzu8JfDa2-/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3404.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mix of old and new tradition</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXW8nM8N9zQ5WUXsA9V6SFwtM5tRgpyQHcWxhFn7cnwu9_xcQaUa6-E5cMPcmi8j4_Qu7l_1y9v67Yhhxa8wZC3Sney4dsfs_xy_nB1zW5a7wKROoShTGgA4sD2Ja7_mpAY-CpBRvQcva/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAXW8nM8N9zQ5WUXsA9V6SFwtM5tRgpyQHcWxhFn7cnwu9_xcQaUa6-E5cMPcmi8j4_Qu7l_1y9v67Yhhxa8wZC3Sney4dsfs_xy_nB1zW5a7wKROoShTGgA4sD2Ja7_mpAY-CpBRvQcva/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3775.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mixed marriages can work in the wild too</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWW3cZc5preS2kk7Ypdk9vpJIuidO4anpFk3I9wc8uBVAVvDRuPQ4pCmWrxTnfimqW2oz4b-M2yB1XDIraZ2iQPNfqjV76Wsw3-GCGiXtBanBJy6yU5Sx0qcalMGOEf5ULyrFJtWQpYjo/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3725.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWW3cZc5preS2kk7Ypdk9vpJIuidO4anpFk3I9wc8uBVAVvDRuPQ4pCmWrxTnfimqW2oz4b-M2yB1XDIraZ2iQPNfqjV76Wsw3-GCGiXtBanBJy6yU5Sx0qcalMGOEf5ULyrFJtWQpYjo/s1600/HaidaGwaii2014_+3725.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haida Gwaii coin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-37108305717218079342013-02-23T14:43:00.002-08:002013-02-23T14:43:58.525-08:00Stop being a Chicken on Pink-Shirt Day<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">or: </span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>‘Everything I needed to Know About Bullying, <br />I Learned
from My Chickens’</b><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 356.25pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(For Feb 27<sup>th</sup>
Pink Shirt Day against bullying<span style="font-size: small;">)</span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDy9DT0X-R_ark8sb0C8ATPOaD_jB1a8NZBYaSKshHII-95_FwemiYKRvpLfXHA487yWhxu0WgvVPF4hFw0Rmw8Wn1juONd68V11622UNSB3_Wdk4Z1WUxGY8VZsOhyphenhyphenNWRZDN7MLS0PSd/s1600/Chickens2013_025asm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDy9DT0X-R_ark8sb0C8ATPOaD_jB1a8NZBYaSKshHII-95_FwemiYKRvpLfXHA487yWhxu0WgvVPF4hFw0Rmw8Wn1juONd68V11622UNSB3_Wdk4Z1WUxGY8VZsOhyphenhyphenNWRZDN7MLS0PSd/s320/Chickens2013_025asm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new girl, 'Megan', short for 'Omegan'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
We recently added a new hen to our flock of chickens and went through the trauma that erupts when the order of the flock is disrupted. The ‘old guard’ chickens gang up horribly on the new one, and for anyone who’s ever been bullied, it’s difficult to watch. I think the reason I have such difficulty seeing this is because it's so familiar and so human. Everyone would love to think that we and our children are not just a bunch of chickens, but watching this situation play out, it’s difficult not to remember those days in the playground or the cafeteria.<br />
<br />
Does any of this sound familiar?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The chicken clique has very
specific roles for its members, and all members feel it’s their
responsibility to keep their order status quo. </span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The head hen is the one who
eats first, decides when it’s time for everyone to run around, cluck,
preen, and go to the girls bathroom so they can all re-do their lip-gloss. </span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The omega hen is the one who
knows her place, doesn’t get in the way, and remains friendly and docile
to her ‘betters’.</span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When a new girl tries to join
the clique, she will be turned away, perhaps viciously. Her very newness
is reason enough to consider her different, undesirable and a threat. </span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The new girl will avoid eating
and drinking if the risk of running into the bullies is too high.</span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Even though there is bickering
amongst the clique, they will present a unified force against the new
girl.</span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The new girl will still
desperately want to be part of the clique, regardless of how badly she is
treated. </span></span></li>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ironically, the head chicken
won’t be the biggest bully. The worst bully is the one who was on the
bottom of the pecking order and wants to make sure the new girl takes on
that role. The head chicken will pretend the new girl doesn’t really
exist.</span></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AkKriqcHmlnnzydjlh32O_Rn4JYcsi0V98o_lzf1NcmnukOn-BTaZyqfIkC59Vytn1M_11BV5tGUtkGU675co5r5aq_D9fC3yvpe_ulTc2GbgtUvuTZvZ1NCxpvKfn31rEA5ZfoEam6i/s1600/Chickens2013_022asm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AkKriqcHmlnnzydjlh32O_Rn4JYcsi0V98o_lzf1NcmnukOn-BTaZyqfIkC59Vytn1M_11BV5tGUtkGU675co5r5aq_D9fC3yvpe_ulTc2GbgtUvuTZvZ1NCxpvKfn31rEA5ZfoEam6i/s320/Chickens2013_022asm.jpg" width="214" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">"Can I come down and play?"</span></span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
Fortunately chickens can’t talk, so there’s no name calling, and fortunately chickens don’t log-on to Facebook. Maybe someday humans will behave better than a bird whose very name suggests cowardice and whose brain is no larger than half a walnut. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, the bullying got to be too much for me. We took the new girl out and sent her to a more accepting flock where she’s knows one of the other chickens. Hopefully they will be nicer in the playground there.<br />
<br />
for more see: <a href="http://www.pinkshirtday.ca/">http://www.pinkshirtday.ca/</a><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_r_7Qb0fc94MQBgfvi8N9Ms862KgYCYF36AG9DgnqmZ2T2fYaEyWe0n9nU9MnTDXm-Qag7JMuZndW_Q05Y393HfSzjQlWlBXJdMh2sSqY7Fej00gTxVPM80L01p4R7FxRp2YEZpDoG6OQ/s1600/Chickens2013_030a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_r_7Qb0fc94MQBgfvi8N9Ms862KgYCYF36AG9DgnqmZ2T2fYaEyWe0n9nU9MnTDXm-Qag7JMuZndW_Q05Y393HfSzjQlWlBXJdMh2sSqY7Fej00gTxVPM80L01p4R7FxRp2YEZpDoG6OQ/s320/Chickens2013_030a.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan, far left, with new family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-38387219582731050412012-12-14T12:51:00.001-08:002012-12-14T12:51:07.791-08:00Costume changes required for 2012<br />
Many of our events in Victoria seem to require a costume change:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMS4LKDKhz68iz1-XF5N0WE1g9aZL0BwqW0HbspGepalHnWEU74rllOazF6VSTPMHEUMR8JP4-VSWOhli6uYMAHXUhMmVaV59N1xY3M6BMkmiiUx-XWUWHau8RAdFvOidHzA5fnxZf7j52/s1600/JackSwimCostume2012_46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMS4LKDKhz68iz1-XF5N0WE1g9aZL0BwqW0HbspGepalHnWEU74rllOazF6VSTPMHEUMR8JP4-VSWOhli6uYMAHXUhMmVaV59N1xY3M6BMkmiiUx-XWUWHau8RAdFvOidHzA5fnxZf7j52/s320/JackSwimCostume2012_46.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old-timey swimwear for the Gorge Swim Fest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiODFNt9J6AgnoiosGl76fkPjHCAFE4B5PQS8gMKPPrCelTJVuhUQxenaWqouwucA-m6JSNb0IRR462feBMpYDI7xiseUyNfJ7VDSh285__0JatEX7vgIfRxIItOehLF3ZW5hqWZ_WZXO/s1600/FB_photoHeadshot_JackieGay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiODFNt9J6AgnoiosGl76fkPjHCAFE4B5PQS8gMKPPrCelTJVuhUQxenaWqouwucA-m6JSNb0IRR462feBMpYDI7xiseUyNfJ7VDSh285__0JatEX7vgIfRxIItOehLF3ZW5hqWZ_WZXO/s320/FB_photoHeadshot_JackieGay.jpg" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lori's old-timey swimwear </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBm_9ALL7fQE6NAjCoEsKxylb3H4QRUlL9HhtN-aygz0nIQKR8zaB0jEN9irM4pzNf7jQwDTiKXHs6UOJ0Y-pVEd7L9Y-fuDoXMkLzrLl_5I3hROq3JXtto5CBPKVAUw81ghDnYo7RHpmw/s320/BraveSirRobin2012.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="190" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quote-along movie: "Monty Python & the Holy Grail"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvwW_hEFjoeimWdsTWvWtOmpCVupeHS59VK3nJy7xOStAQ_BssN_sqDb_q7pN7nKARsJUemEW4zc6qU39uYG509jYFXaMFJwfSvcLjgECHsEYLUo1xgWxVZRSYkfYD7-AblctC1CyEvNF/s1600/Halloween2012_008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKvwW_hEFjoeimWdsTWvWtOmpCVupeHS59VK3nJy7xOStAQ_BssN_sqDb_q7pN7nKARsJUemEW4zc6qU39uYG509jYFXaMFJwfSvcLjgECHsEYLUo1xgWxVZRSYkfYD7-AblctC1CyEvNF/s320/Halloween2012_008.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween at Craigdarroch Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgH3Hc9kIcfYRN_Rg1ptgHKKrnewPxEYw3kYPBR2rBmrA_YNjDwidJ_4C0qaZ6_bQ327UROzATl9FmmEFzNX-AhJobVtlAxLlB8Em-uibyYpS2LUN38I_dKtnHNuWM1rGEkJjy1zSzkl_/s1600/Halloween2012_011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgH3Hc9kIcfYRN_Rg1ptgHKKrnewPxEYw3kYPBR2rBmrA_YNjDwidJ_4C0qaZ6_bQ327UROzATl9FmmEFzNX-AhJobVtlAxLlB8Em-uibyYpS2LUN38I_dKtnHNuWM1rGEkJjy1zSzkl_/s320/Halloween2012_011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidkENaQLYw2KtgS3I4h1WZWe_bX88AoBnIUY-O8RRgeNR1oflSmh91lKexKxq3cZjkaTjTBqwvHhSDfO7p0ZCXKtJhZGhR8gik4sFrQOgmoos8wCDPejI9jJp0Web5QcAfuK0_bxbQ1exs/s1600/Lightonourfeet2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidkENaQLYw2KtgS3I4h1WZWe_bX88AoBnIUY-O8RRgeNR1oflSmh91lKexKxq3cZjkaTjTBqwvHhSDfO7p0ZCXKtJhZGhR8gik4sFrQOgmoos8wCDPejI9jJp0Web5QcAfuK0_bxbQ1exs/s320/Lightonourfeet2.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cabaret theatre with prizes for costume wearers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcvUQr6ON02UNuZ_7X7OFhJWK6qHi5Fm0oWRTUoJlTOhDKDkVpIxpeAHit6KsXrGfLUHSn3fo3SKU9rlLcY-lKxEUMLj9jnsQ1GERT1Fv0Nv5c0k-qJIAbcUapjXb4v7s15q3Sv3LBif_/s1600/InStudio_002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcvUQr6ON02UNuZ_7X7OFhJWK6qHi5Fm0oWRTUoJlTOhDKDkVpIxpeAHit6KsXrGfLUHSn3fo3SKU9rlLcY-lKxEUMLj9jnsQ1GERT1Fv0Nv5c0k-qJIAbcUapjXb4v7s15q3Sv3LBif_/s320/InStudio_002.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flamenco costumes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVcxvV46Pg3aJwFD3oVDuCkPbqZDQfrKBqhIgu_4kpYHT9ONek3EGpXRFGeGRMWTzekjYoTE6h5EV0h_D3pmJ7hTH_TgCexzx6ysFGXhk4nyb1hOoQ8rf1FmuWvelTxxQz_NI-9_MCQn0/s1600/Nutcracker2012_001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVcxvV46Pg3aJwFD3oVDuCkPbqZDQfrKBqhIgu_4kpYHT9ONek3EGpXRFGeGRMWTzekjYoTE6h5EV0h_D3pmJ7hTH_TgCexzx6ysFGXhk4nyb1hOoQ8rf1FmuWvelTxxQz_NI-9_MCQn0/s320/Nutcracker2012_001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attending the Nutcracker in 1890's style</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdamulCGuuoByrhYY0riEY3KHtLoHS86-Dl8aNMX0HfaZXITql9UkdrYpNc9yJ2-Cb9aXJKA9LCMSjSZB9oh-8ZSbGbbIISafD6O2ApJ6A8Qxz4CcSpylhJS4oiXMhka-DIF5gvi5ytunf/s1600/JacksMo2012_14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdamulCGuuoByrhYY0riEY3KHtLoHS86-Dl8aNMX0HfaZXITql9UkdrYpNc9yJ2-Cb9aXJKA9LCMSjSZB9oh-8ZSbGbbIISafD6O2ApJ6A8Qxz4CcSpylhJS4oiXMhka-DIF5gvi5ytunf/s320/JacksMo2012_14.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jack's Movember (security guards were attracted to this look)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-62282142052340206532012-10-07T15:14:00.002-07:002012-10-07T15:28:24.760-07:00Hard lessons in Farming<h4>
Genesis</h4>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jack & I had talked about getting some backyard chickens
for a while. Having pets that laid eggs sounded wonderful, and there were
already several coops on the street. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This spring we had an opportunity to share in chicken
ownership with some neighbours, a ‘coop co-op’ if you will. We’d get the birds
as baby chicks that had graduated from incubation in an elementary school
classroom, then we’d raise them in a coop in a neighbour’s yard across the
street. Nothing ever goes quite as planned. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The farmer who graciously donated the eggs for the class,
gave us 2 dozen fertilized eggs in a great assortment of colourful breeds. The
incubator in the classroom, however, only had room for 18 of them. We tried and
failed to find room in another incubator in the area, before deciding to do it
ourselves. No, I didn’t strap 6 eggs into my bra for the 21 day incubation
period, but maybe worse, stuck them in the oven. We fiddled with the
temperature for a few days before putting the eggs in. </div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZX8PKoKPtdhSfmrQVigftU8QUSEAjGkE0ZEyp7hUvHg85cpYEAQAeTM0b57o1ZWwo94bHjDNbJaSdpqMH-cfdGDWuP9s6IYP4cuRhh1oqhRU9nrT02pfAXgLVgS4l4RuXWPwMovRRLszv/s1600/Chickens2012_004sm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZX8PKoKPtdhSfmrQVigftU8QUSEAjGkE0ZEyp7hUvHg85cpYEAQAeTM0b57o1ZWwo94bHjDNbJaSdpqMH-cfdGDWuP9s6IYP4cuRhh1oqhRU9nrT02pfAXgLVgS4l4RuXWPwMovRRLszv/s320/Chickens2012_004sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The setup</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
(To the chicken experts out there: no, we didn’t have the
oven on, just the right combination of wattages of oven lights, and yes, we
provided ventilation and proper humidity, and yes we tilted the eggs 5 times
per day etc.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We spent the next 3 weeks babysitting the oven to ensure
that the above was monitored properly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
Birth</h4>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the morning of June 1<sup>st</sup>, the English Sparrows
that crowd around another neighbour’s chicken coop were louder than normal. It
took me a while to realize that the chirping was actually coming from the oven,
from inside one of the still-intact eggs. Human babies scream after they come
out, but apparently chickens do it to announce that they are about to arrive. </div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzE4Xu5KlhBbfCSDidUWaf1uEsbEfQgykgUl0wFR_bxD_HrciIpB_JVyvWNT2m-eTs8OUGXocwTLtE50E0Ik7ezpZvDJAyvkZsCo4WZRPL2TabNq9GO3RyE0syU_LPFmwpfZ05r5zl4pPK/s1600/June2012_017sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzE4Xu5KlhBbfCSDidUWaf1uEsbEfQgykgUl0wFR_bxD_HrciIpB_JVyvWNT2m-eTs8OUGXocwTLtE50E0Ik7ezpZvDJAyvkZsCo4WZRPL2TabNq9GO3RyE0syU_LPFmwpfZ05r5zl4pPK/s320/June2012_017sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'June' still wet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Within 30 minutes, “June” had arrived, sprawled out on the
floor of the box we’d prepared. Two hours later, “Bug” joined him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPCMR4ni-TK7vYFoMpO_Prz3Y65X4Irz2jmpY-0tGwdgSPC_VVXB4YpNWvcjydE2OMBjW42AYjXDS1hS8YRfSkImPvQgGyqBC53inDFFkBOkAJOzx19jCB2UWnTdMgQ_97sifBMUty2kD/s1600/JuneBug2012_014sm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPCMR4ni-TK7vYFoMpO_Prz3Y65X4Irz2jmpY-0tGwdgSPC_VVXB4YpNWvcjydE2OMBjW42AYjXDS1hS8YRfSkImPvQgGyqBC53inDFFkBOkAJOzx19jCB2UWnTdMgQ_97sifBMUty2kD/s320/JuneBug2012_014sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'June' & 'Bug'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the rest did nothing. After 48 hours,
when all hope was lost, we removed the remaining 4 eggs. I opened one, to try
to see what happened, and found a little chick who was perfect, beautiful and
quite dead. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVol6fY2fhlARHs5N0r3MPuPpCfJgZLhySA4gzDMvlW02U9gPDyKB2RjtgqjpgZyz1aYtJS6ztBjYwAabSQXFmLG3sVifmglSnyNhWBWCVqJhubG03em7j2vyeRqus5PEKj0jjvG-oNUeh/s1600/Chickens2012_041sm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVol6fY2fhlARHs5N0r3MPuPpCfJgZLhySA4gzDMvlW02U9gPDyKB2RjtgqjpgZyz1aYtJS6ztBjYwAabSQXFmLG3sVifmglSnyNhWBWCVqJhubG03em7j2vyeRqus5PEKj0jjvG-oNUeh/s320/Chickens2012_041sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">could not hatch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We fell in love with our 2 little ones. There was no way
these birds were moving across the street. We wanted them to be OURS.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two chicks, however, is not a flock, so we
got 4 more from the same breeder. We then proceeded to brood them in our dining
room. Jack frantically built a coop, but not before we had a real “Green Acres”
situation inside the house.</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NMzpSKfCaf1Px9-HtzR8SM0B1_2n66GnvfU1rUWi1DNoat7OvxWwGaoYGKeqVshyphenhyphen3gNPwAvPebOPmBPWWji49wf6nUu-p7arjSo9JaDb2iMbJgPYroqpn-jtGEnbzhrpcNbldh4rAuLv/s1600/Chickens2012_090sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NMzpSKfCaf1Px9-HtzR8SM0B1_2n66GnvfU1rUWi1DNoat7OvxWwGaoYGKeqVshyphenhyphen3gNPwAvPebOPmBPWWji49wf6nUu-p7arjSo9JaDb2iMbJgPYroqpn-jtGEnbzhrpcNbldh4rAuLv/s320/Chickens2012_090sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Ginger' Wallenda balances above her friends</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX9bkPjkaeWX_RxOCewqXgZ9g5P-A8HDGcHdvT8EwGWVVR6Hb9guwWKMf2GdB-i1RdukPBwM5fhlR3_Qlboe95zPnQ2S0aYOEFd1z9en-J04V7jzDighiyKQWqG4qn_SjNGsrs3Mir3_dQ/s1600/Chickens2012_099sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX9bkPjkaeWX_RxOCewqXgZ9g5P-A8HDGcHdvT8EwGWVVR6Hb9guwWKMf2GdB-i1RdukPBwM5fhlR3_Qlboe95zPnQ2S0aYOEFd1z9en-J04V7jzDighiyKQWqG4qn_SjNGsrs3Mir3_dQ/s320/Chickens2012_099sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKfCa1sfYT16wkjIu6yr9ZKAgep7rhvlAVUMVyyCeikPi-_DMfYAxcZGpnEBQHBGWTekD6eo7xfbBGiIuEnK8KK-vZ93nH1V9KHdSAUhLRJThlmJG0hzT8MN1RIj4trvOi23p535JUPEN/s1600/Chickens2012_130sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKfCa1sfYT16wkjIu6yr9ZKAgep7rhvlAVUMVyyCeikPi-_DMfYAxcZGpnEBQHBGWTekD6eo7xfbBGiIuEnK8KK-vZ93nH1V9KHdSAUhLRJThlmJG0hzT8MN1RIj4trvOi23p535JUPEN/s320/Chickens2012_130sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuddle time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuyH-yIsCg4d4eApeo2ZDkNJkOwPXdYLVyl6tZngAZ8B3zpJwYowntVF2aL0rpQr4FbhX3IvEJ5bm7I3eVQdHm9DqzQ8d1WKmSg5gYlnW-nnv9UvR90Vgsg2CgHDR5-2UxMcLHQ7w6YhPv/s1600/Chickens2012_150sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuyH-yIsCg4d4eApeo2ZDkNJkOwPXdYLVyl6tZngAZ8B3zpJwYowntVF2aL0rpQr4FbhX3IvEJ5bm7I3eVQdHm9DqzQ8d1WKmSg5gYlnW-nnv9UvR90Vgsg2CgHDR5-2UxMcLHQ7w6YhPv/s320/Chickens2012_150sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Free Ranging</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEindJTajOOA6Fu6nsiASwN975LqfE_wibF67_-k1OIjhBdipeBIPjmC1Whdv_4Mr3n0FMSuV5N8Fm8pu1qUFj9E_Rwc21tBTpCzhz6VhBCKgWFGKzbUhibEDvo_-wdbqEUJM7Gs34x0QYBh/s1600/Chickens2012_155sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEindJTajOOA6Fu6nsiASwN975LqfE_wibF67_-k1OIjhBdipeBIPjmC1Whdv_4Mr3n0FMSuV5N8Fm8pu1qUFj9E_Rwc21tBTpCzhz6VhBCKgWFGKzbUhibEDvo_-wdbqEUJM7Gs34x0QYBh/s320/Chickens2012_155sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">build faster!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
Dorian</h4>
Dorian (so-named because he was grey, beautiful, and, while
friendly to us, not particularly nice to the other chickens) was the one who
liked to perch on me. If I lowered my head to clean out a cage, Dorian would be
the one to jump up onto my head, or neck or perch on my shoulder. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJG7fly7MU8MxMOvHJhR01BSWrrMj-KgMn_OOndrw6uW9EHsy_b1I-SxpZjm-OgO62UpunmJVWmnyuUJxWzRxHoeHbl_WboifMonzniIL5JzsRQ4qKbywpHi2I9tFGF8K82wIWhzE7aXt/s1600/Chickens2012_156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJG7fly7MU8MxMOvHJhR01BSWrrMj-KgMn_OOndrw6uW9EHsy_b1I-SxpZjm-OgO62UpunmJVWmnyuUJxWzRxHoeHbl_WboifMonzniIL5JzsRQ4qKbywpHi2I9tFGF8K82wIWhzE7aXt/s320/Chickens2012_156.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYI-OGrj_FSh89fVuGUF7KNFbERweext38dyset_L-uRnCtet9qHCoF5mM44ej7cX7Fm1ypcn-8v92D2qT2Tr2pp8WW3kqj69XJdxfj_e9YcP6Izs0pUtyrTy_XNNHUy24v6eqNp1P1rR4/s1600/Chickens2012_188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYI-OGrj_FSh89fVuGUF7KNFbERweext38dyset_L-uRnCtet9qHCoF5mM44ej7cX7Fm1ypcn-8v92D2qT2Tr2pp8WW3kqj69XJdxfj_e9YcP6Izs0pUtyrTy_XNNHUy24v6eqNp1P1rR4/s320/Chickens2012_188.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
He was a
unique character, charming, adventurous, smart, and beautiful. He was my
friend. Right up to the moment that I drew a sharp blade across his
throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Me sobbing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYuKdNe_x3ExDWBBaTcj7D7juJ-QjTEq7RXuidVNZthe35wXO0RhxmSlCLPMXZ53THvPpJm-BGLKc11fcKQTJ4As8tP6uGo_E3aDLm2oHF6F2CAQ6KhQq2Wp6jpeYVAFj8HcVUg2WUChR/s1600/Chickens2012_214sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYuKdNe_x3ExDWBBaTcj7D7juJ-QjTEq7RXuidVNZthe35wXO0RhxmSlCLPMXZ53THvPpJm-BGLKc11fcKQTJ4As8tP6uGo_E3aDLm2oHF6F2CAQ6KhQq2Wp6jpeYVAFj8HcVUg2WUChR/s320/Chickens2012_214sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Dorian' 2:38 pm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDTDIyQwm0ZDisNvI0bH0EfBVLUDPjjlJqUtthr7Ut72EVyqCO0zUZgtL5WN5bAUGm53AmEqBrNXiRi9bJveBoz1oPPtOUnSN-alpVOIvLts-u41dlmM7BiVRbBVBJAw4bkpn3-JkbS5r/s1600/Chickens2012_269sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDTDIyQwm0ZDisNvI0bH0EfBVLUDPjjlJqUtthr7Ut72EVyqCO0zUZgtL5WN5bAUGm53AmEqBrNXiRi9bJveBoz1oPPtOUnSN-alpVOIvLts-u41dlmM7BiVRbBVBJAw4bkpn3-JkbS5r/s320/Chickens2012_269sm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Dorian' 2:56 pm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He was the first of 3 cockerels (so far) who had to go. It
is illegal to have roosters in the city, and even if I could keep them, a ratio
of 12 hens to 1 rooster is about the minimum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>About half of all chickens are born roosters. You do the math. The world
is awash in unwanted roosters. In commercial operations that produce laying
hens, the chicks that are hens are put on the conveyor that sends them to boxes
that are sent to commercial egg producers. The baby roosters are put on another
conveyor. No one wants to know where that one goes. Considering that hens
naturally live 10-15 years or more, but are ‘good’ egg producers only for about
18 months, well, you don’t really want to know where the chicken in that noodle
soup comes from either. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggop0TiZOqC1SXibQXasPjj55asSeiqdmB8wgTRTCiRQ8RO1ojp-z2UoFoPT0Zs6JT22Ytqik9xeFUZL1cSR2esH52On6JmS9FngOWjLuvqKAKnpiW6fWDvu7VR-eZF-rO32K41RwpNA8-/s1600/Chickens2012_288sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggop0TiZOqC1SXibQXasPjj55asSeiqdmB8wgTRTCiRQ8RO1ojp-z2UoFoPT0Zs6JT22Ytqik9xeFUZL1cSR2esH52On6JmS9FngOWjLuvqKAKnpiW6fWDvu7VR-eZF-rO32K41RwpNA8-/s320/Chickens2012_288sm.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal">
Epilogue</h4>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While we all say we want to know our food, and where it came
from, I think few of us really want to know our food personally. Know their
personalities, habits, charms and faults. But if I don’t love my chickens,
don’t give them treats and names and observe their unique personalities, it doesn’t mean
they are any less unique individuals and deserving of love. It just means I
missed that opportunity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Have a happy Thanksgiving. I know that this year we
will be giving personal thanks to Dorian, June and Patience. I hadn’t eaten chicken in years before this adventure, but today
they will be given centre-stage on our table.</span></span>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-40238465570006087852012-05-21T21:05:00.001-07:002012-05-21T21:19:59.747-07:00For Norah...For Norah, a friend who may be going to Newfoundland,<br />
<br />
The first rule of going to Newfoundland is never, never, never miss an opportunity to go to Newfoundland.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Was_osAjBco49zCDhrJm6y5kDmVquslxQ7OQ3zy0C5eUL1D7IRWoVD13_eLJlIzWE_g4P3pufZb19MTQ5RvdejsHWRUWQ6aGxkPJzp35SKNPS_O4ef-Ox60kidjk7IYI_Lcfkx4Yilo6/s1600/Canada2009_0916_013med.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Was_osAjBco49zCDhrJm6y5kDmVquslxQ7OQ3zy0C5eUL1D7IRWoVD13_eLJlIzWE_g4P3pufZb19MTQ5RvdejsHWRUWQ6aGxkPJzp35SKNPS_O4ef-Ox60kidjk7IYI_Lcfkx4Yilo6/s400/Canada2009_0916_013med.JPG" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because it's there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The rest are just some of my thoughts about where to go in Newfoundland, starting near St. John’s, and only having a brief period of time. This is by no means an exhaustive list, only some places I enjoyed during my brief stay. I think anyone would have good luck almost anywhere.<br />
<br />
The Newfoundlanders are a different breed in terms of generosity and hospitality, so don’t be surprised when they invite you in for tea. Also don’t be surprised if there are no hotels or b&b’s in the very small places, they often don’t get a lot of drive-thru tourists.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisLvVYYc6pVSBsGRNipba_-9Uuo8GRfkP5tu4bUxweqCYonaoLhEzpn9kZE4cjFOdze2xfEIetuL4ncPH9-ObDDrEozac6-lovt_VssBhVpOF7o4zAlJroMUadw3LCTKBN2UPiZ0EoUVEr/s1600/NFL_Where+to+go.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisLvVYYc6pVSBsGRNipba_-9Uuo8GRfkP5tu4bUxweqCYonaoLhEzpn9kZE4cjFOdze2xfEIetuL4ncPH9-ObDDrEozac6-lovt_VssBhVpOF7o4zAlJroMUadw3LCTKBN2UPiZ0EoUVEr/s400/NFL_Where+to+go.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click on the map for a larger version</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
One caution: a driving tip we were given, "If you see a tree, there's a
moose behind it." I think more moose kill people on the roads than
Newfoundlanders kill moose during hunting season. Do your part: eat a
mooseburger. (Yes, I know I'm normally vegetarian, but these guys are
out of control.) <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUrgY9QL6XdNGvLg2vk5aNF06eH7juADWIJXDcgb_ua3Je69midbKawu9_2UKhP7tAIboZoynFogecpG3KmAJKBq_mhrj3fsM2lOHQksqDPrEvLQ_LG3yhkzCiP3d1Jj1kp3i8yCi1mxtC/s1600/Canada2009_0908_033med.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUrgY9QL6XdNGvLg2vk5aNF06eH7juADWIJXDcgb_ua3Je69midbKawu9_2UKhP7tAIboZoynFogecpG3KmAJKBq_mhrj3fsM2lOHQksqDPrEvLQ_LG3yhkzCiP3d1Jj1kp3i8yCi1mxtC/s320/Canada2009_0908_033med.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't end up here</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherd3S3_HACAPBc4YrTc0614vx-zdKe4f5c7_pTqOC59lU8uWZ30zOTQ_JJv0Fz-MwAUtYD72wpjlcTbcec69fQ_3saGgvFwz0LrDqIdBVi4y4gOKovrPmj1pswNlKAvqNP_wzsX7jzVUg/s1600/Canada2009_0925_001med.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherd3S3_HACAPBc4YrTc0614vx-zdKe4f5c7_pTqOC59lU8uWZ30zOTQ_JJv0Fz-MwAUtYD72wpjlcTbcec69fQ_3saGgvFwz0LrDqIdBVi4y4gOKovrPmj1pswNlKAvqNP_wzsX7jzVUg/s320/Canada2009_0925_001med.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eat a moose</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br />
<b>The Avalon Peninsula</b><br />
<br />
<b>First stops: Witless Bay & Ferryland</b><br />
Witless Bay has a small roadside cafe called the Irish Loop Cafe that has a view to die for. There is also a B&B called <a href="http://www.elainesbythesea.com/index.htm" target="_blank">Elaine's</a> that looks lovely. We were still camping at this point, so I cannot vouch for it. <br />
<br />
At Ferryland there is a beautiful short walk out to a picturesque lighthouse. There is a caterer at the lighthouse that lets you buy a gourmet picnic. (we were too cheap to do this, but here is the link: <a href="http://www.lighthousepicnics.ca/%20" target="_blank">http://www.lighthousepicnics.ca/ </a>.) There is also a <a href="http://www.dunnesbnb.com/" target="_blank">B&B here</a>, which I think is where you'll find the side by side Liar's & Gossip's benches.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ferryland Lighthouse</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They mean it</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are you a liar or a gossip?</td></tr>
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<b>Cape St. Mary's</b><br />
Cape St. Mary’s bird sanctuary (not St. Mary’s – that’s a town). A beautiful bird sanctuary located on cliffs on the southwest corner of the Avalon peninsula. You hike right up to the cliff edge and watch the birds there. Because they are hanging out on great spires of rock, with cliffs between you and them, they feel quite safe and fly very close. I’m not sure what would be gathering there in June. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_St._Mary%27s_Ecological_Reserve" target="_blank">Wikipedia </a>has an entry that gives excellent information and more photos. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">you don't want to fall</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>The Bonavista Peninsula</b><br />
Bonavista is so beautiful and we almost passed it by. We went to Terra Nova National Park and one of the park rangers there actually turned us around and said you must go back. The hiking on Bonavista is better than in the National Park which is really known for being a sanctuary for birds.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cliff hiking</td></tr>
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Skerwink trail – close to the town of <b>Old Bonaventure</b> is a hiking trail that takes you out to the coast and has views of rocky seastacks. All the edge of Newfoundland is basically one big cliff, so you get some really thrilling views. Since June will probably be iceberg season, you’d likely have a good chance of seeing some off of here.<br />
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<b>Trinity</b> </div>
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Beautiful and charming. Has a theatre, good restaurants and b&b’s. Don't expect to be the only tourist there</div>
(just do an image search in google for ‘Trinity, Newfoundland’ and you’ll get a sense of
it)<br />
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<b>Elliston</b></div>
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Like most places in Newfoundland, we found Elliston by accident. It is near a puffin colony, but if you're not in puffin season, it's wonderfully quiet. We had a meal in an old converted heritage church. There is a <a href="http://www.birdislandinn.com/" target="_blank">B&B</a> here as well. (There may be more).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Puffin Colony</td></tr>
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<b>Cape Bonavista & the town of Bonavista</b><br />
The cape is gorgeously rocky and would have great viewing of icebergs. The horses run freely and chase tourists since they know we carry treats and are suckers for charming beasts (the 'charismatic megafauna effect').<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cape Bonavista - cows & horses must be smart enough not to fall off cliffs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">if you find this horse, bring her home for me</td></tr>
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Bonavista itself has a rebuilt version of John Cabot's ship the Matthew and is worth seeing. (Wikipedia has contradictory entries that says both that the replica of the Matthew is housed here and was sailed back to Bristol for the Queen's diamond jubilee. You'll have to check for yourself.) I had no idea that John Cabot was an Italian
whose real name was Geovanni Caboto. I think there is also a Marconi
site at the Bonavista lighthouse, but I may be remembering that
incorrectly. In any case the Italians seemed to figure prominently in
Newfoundland history. And the lighthouse sites are wonderfully windy. <br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>Fogo Island:</b><br />
I could torture you with photos of Fogo Island & Twillingate, but I'm afraid these are a bit far afield for the amount of time you have. <b> </b><br />
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<b>Remember, if you do take a wrong turn, it may be the highlight of your trip.</b><br />
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<b>Books to read:</b><br />
'The Shipping News' by Annie Proulx, 1993(?) <br />
'Rare Birds', Edward Riche, 2001 (?) <br />
Both of these show the wonderful Newfoundlander humour & both have been made into excellent movies. <br />
'Random Passage', Bernice Morgan. Fictionalized account of some original Irish settlers & how difficult their lives were. (This unfortunately, was made into a terrifically terrible movie)<br />
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<b>Link</b>:<br />
<a href="http://www.icebergfinder.com/iceberg-map.aspx" target="_blank">Iceberg tracker</a>! Let's you know where they are now.<br />
<br />
<b>Food</b>:<br />
As I mentioned previously, if you love salads and fresh vegetables, there's lots of that when you get back to Vancouver Island. While you're there, Eat a moose.<br />
<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-90226741501404452862011-09-11T11:54:00.000-07:002011-09-11T12:08:33.747-07:00On September 11thI wrote the following 10 days after the attacks of September 11<sup>th</sup>, 2001. It seems appropriate to share 10 years later.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Bad grammar and all.<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><blockquote><p class="MsoNormal">September 21, 2001:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The last grand movement that I can recall agreeing with was “Mothers Against Drunk Driving”. Before or since I’ve never been able to be swept away by the tide of public opinion. It is so much easier for an individual to just go along with the tide. Things get done, people feel purpose, politicians get elected. There is consensus. There is belief. People belong.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now there is a tide like I have never seen before. All roads lead to war. A call for justice, revenge, weeding out the enemy. No one knows exactly who the enemy is. All we know is that they think differently, they look different, they believe different and <span style="font-style: italic;">they are wrong</span>.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>The enemy threatens a jihad, a “holy war”, but the president of the U.S. beat them to it. Last night in his speech to the senate he announced that, “God is on our side.” It has repeatedly been stated that this is a war against evil. That means that we are the good, and suddenly now everything that is <span style="font-style: italic;">us</span> is good because it is not <span style="font-style: italic;">them</span>.</p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family:verdana;" >Nothing is ever completely black and white</span></span><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLq9-DhIqvC2N2VLqXb1VONyjxkeH0jKXrG6yQCBn4fHvYnajhNcLxMCwCg8BI1y82AfIyM85OdFClQ0S5OivkgEwMcqDIc7v9eDdrM04xh4Y62PaKvqZPcGWpeG5xh2BGoVIoMgTdhE6y/s1600/TofinoEtcMar2011_159.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLq9-DhIqvC2N2VLqXb1VONyjxkeH0jKXrG6yQCBn4fHvYnajhNcLxMCwCg8BI1y82AfIyM85OdFClQ0S5OivkgEwMcqDIc7v9eDdrM04xh4Y62PaKvqZPcGWpeG5xh2BGoVIoMgTdhE6y/s400/TofinoEtcMar2011_159.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651178777473675746" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Now it’s 10 years on. The funny thing back then was, that on September 12<sup>th</sup> (2001) I was hearing this wonderful thought-provoking question being asked everywhere. The question was, “Why do they hate us? Why do they hate us so much?” The question was introspective and open to dialogue. It showed vulnerability. People seemed open to listen, to try to understand other perspectives.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And now, I think that became the scariest part of 9/11. Letting ourselves see what is happening globally in order that (paraphrased) "the North-American way of life remains non-negotiable", is just too much for most of us. Going to war was easier. Until we once-again realized that all human flesh is allergic to bullets, regardless of what tribe that flesh calls it’s own. </p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-78271657046680536462011-01-03T15:45:00.000-08:002011-01-03T16:06:56.209-08:00Canada 2009 Best-of PhotosOf the over 18,000 photos I took during our 4 month cross-Canada adventure, I have managed to whittle them down to 70 of the best. It was a tough job, especially for one as indecisive as myself, to determine the so-called "best." Many were in the pages of the trip's blogs, so they may be familiar to you.<br /><br />Enjoy!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ltg-goddess/sets/72157625615936841/">Cross-Canada best-of photos</a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-39850538933427591112010-09-22T13:20:00.000-07:002010-09-23T18:26:13.101-07:00Flamenco and me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-Rp9CN2yw3jQs7bfvUSH5e0Zkwrwi7d41bt0dc0FE942M5iLQ6l6M2ByxzzeafayYAOLbGzM5-0YZtlb2KRBwtUJ6UC53jF-fm3MHCxrM1Wy10XICLBGvA-iHzFrKNgiCgW7fwQFrH2n/s1600/GarethOwenConcert2008+034a.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-Rp9CN2yw3jQs7bfvUSH5e0Zkwrwi7d41bt0dc0FE942M5iLQ6l6M2ByxzzeafayYAOLbGzM5-0YZtlb2KRBwtUJ6UC53jF-fm3MHCxrM1Wy10XICLBGvA-iHzFrKNgiCgW7fwQFrH2n/s320/GarethOwenConcert2008+034a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519840585375619570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhx3kr-T-iB3hY5SIEZPBZnIOFz5NVQjF3U3ZgJAAPJEPc2MwLuIlEvvNbF2IM44fYPoDybioia4d6qGBqz_83zQybEQUw1Nzc9ePn00Ci9wSRQaAqcHXTaR1x_mTFqtY89xFZKAyQC_T/s1600/CanadaDay2009_085a.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhx3kr-T-iB3hY5SIEZPBZnIOFz5NVQjF3U3ZgJAAPJEPc2MwLuIlEvvNbF2IM44fYPoDybioia4d6qGBqz_83zQybEQUw1Nzc9ePn00Ci9wSRQaAqcHXTaR1x_mTFqtY89xFZKAyQC_T/s320/CanadaDay2009_085a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519840581104122322" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I was in the midst of writing about my 'attachments' for this blog when I got the horrible news from Veronica, my flamenco dance teacher:</span> <blockquote><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Words can't express what I am about to say. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">We have lost our beloved Harry, my husband ... my soulmate ... my partner ... father of our son Gareth. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Harry will always be remembered for his kindness, compassion, his sincerity, his humour ......He was the life of everyone's party. He will be sadly missed.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">The school will be closed next week September 20th to 25th to mourn his sudden death."</span></blockquote><span style="font-family:verdana;">Those of you, who know me well, know that I spend a fair bit of my time learning flamenco dancing. Okay, at 6 times per week maybe it's more like an obsession. It requires focus, physicality, passion, rhythm and pain. I can usually manage one of these, maybe two at one time. Last Friday we all got the dose of pain, in huge measure.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/LORIGA%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgyWg2KACqDzMhpvG6SWfT4UufjYx7QtQ2xM3Z0RNmrkzD8ZvzFgVjKf94cPVWlHRZta6m76Hc6lmUmuGHYwVhrSQavjakObv9asdVe4gAnNyE3XdpKotiE2oOBd9oTWPZRYXJJH_GVT2/s1600/facebook3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgyWg2KACqDzMhpvG6SWfT4UufjYx7QtQ2xM3Z0RNmrkzD8ZvzFgVjKf94cPVWlHRZta6m76Hc6lmUmuGHYwVhrSQavjakObv9asdVe4gAnNyE3XdpKotiE2oOBd9oTWPZRYXJJH_GVT2/s320/facebook3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519843592888464530" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >photo credit: Steve Switzer, Quadra Street Designs</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">You see, Harry was a flamenco contradiction. He had a special relationship with every student at the school. So much so that when another student mentioned this, I was actually, stupidly, surprised. I thought, "oh man, you too? I thought it was just me." We each had our own joke with Harry. The music that came out of his hands was deep, sensual, passionate, and could be quite dark. When he played, it was often with eyes closed, like some kind of somnambulant angel. But as soon as he opened his mouth, there was levity, often giggling with the students to the point of distraction. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">When I could, I would stand as close to Harry as possible, so that I could hear him over the clomping of our feet, but also just to hear him period. It was a double-edged sword, however. When I would make a mistake (and when you make a mistake in shoes that have a hardwood heel and nails in the heels and toes, it's obvious) I would see him wince, like I'd actually pained him in the midst of his reverie.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9la3-Qi4D7yPUPWe4QPVAu-AI9FLfazN3eFJv__gEryNEKVlKFfBwuf0OzH8h1W2LfDxXJ17cybfAR_2OWk7GihWFeplpW8D6lsAZQU_kbgFSUG88YSSQXuJQkUzNJmg1h_quPs-q1KP/s1600/CanadaDay2008+056a.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9la3-Qi4D7yPUPWe4QPVAu-AI9FLfazN3eFJv__gEryNEKVlKFfBwuf0OzH8h1W2LfDxXJ17cybfAR_2OWk7GihWFeplpW8D6lsAZQU_kbgFSUG88YSSQXuJQkUzNJmg1h_quPs-q1KP/s320/CanadaDay2008+056a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519838768056751762" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I don't feel comfortable describing his relationship with Veronica. It was too intimate. When we were in class, we would watch this... this, thing between them that involved a higher plain and a completely different language. She would say, "Do the dee dee dee dee duh duh one" and he would say, "But the dee dee dee dee duh duh one only works if you go boom buh duh duh duh duh." "Right do that." Jack said that when they were on stage he couldn't tell where Veronica ended and Harry began.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivxk6T6X8yK-RjnR-p9dwfWa6XYIgttls-J7dqcrFAebq0Ax1ke7eBPZqos8fA2lqVg7yr3IHUo8bdZ7rxl04ivqmaTPZHb2yiv1IrfxqVG_AwXJUisvnPW0icWPwN9yX5Ly7-NoxgVce/s1600/Garethveronicacropped.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivxk6T6X8yK-RjnR-p9dwfWa6XYIgttls-J7dqcrFAebq0Ax1ke7eBPZqos8fA2lqVg7yr3IHUo8bdZ7rxl04ivqmaTPZHb2yiv1IrfxqVG_AwXJUisvnPW0icWPwN9yX5Ly7-NoxgVce/s320/Garethveronicacropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519841086584392178" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When he played with his son Gareth, again it was too intimate to describe. There were many moments on stage, however, when he wore an expression like any father has when he is so proud that you can hear him thinking the cliche,</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> "That's my boy!"<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlZSJGdzDHzmvm2EP84weiMaXukIIWRBQD4IaYCSDgZ6cdwC_uGf2o0LNH8g1uBC3o9DBZhQ4oA6soPYnOm-YZ1WuxX65gf6QoSx3H_8dLtJmZutkGceOCd5nuZrFwyCxXZq8nuEpaPKZ/s1600/LaFamilia2_APR08.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlZSJGdzDHzmvm2EP84weiMaXukIIWRBQD4IaYCSDgZ6cdwC_uGf2o0LNH8g1uBC3o9DBZhQ4oA6soPYnOm-YZ1WuxX65gf6QoSx3H_8dLtJmZutkGceOCd5nuZrFwyCxXZq8nuEpaPKZ/s320/LaFamilia2_APR08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519840594536856162" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The school they created, with such remarkable talent and passion, is also remarkably egoless. There isn't the prima-dona crap that can be found in some dance schools. Maybe the instructors know how vulnerable we are when we dance.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUys1H43pS7YmFR_BooFMrRTb_qld5wmXtbTFqZe03jmsHC6wyUZIYgRaGNneibIkCpa4OlTfmFIupCmX25k3Y8HdslEMHQ-qP70kx1RL1nT0vdR16IUfmGA2-cxDRlWcr6bOirD5TRDs0/s1600/facebook4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUys1H43pS7YmFR_BooFMrRTb_qld5wmXtbTFqZe03jmsHC6wyUZIYgRaGNneibIkCpa4OlTfmFIupCmX25k3Y8HdslEMHQ-qP70kx1RL1nT0vdR16IUfmGA2-cxDRlWcr6bOirD5TRDs0/s320/facebook4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519843597022534226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In the end, I am so grateful to have known Harry, and to be a part of the flamenco community that he helped to create here in Canada. I am grateful to know their familia flamenca, my instructors and the flamenco chicas, the other dancers, who I see all the time.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq57eIkt83DiJhk_9CGox_lCqPv309XE1RevFePrQTnmleIP71OosD5jO831lUIdqdzg1TQ9xnxF0_I4s3mrDkDKkOdDc4ZO_M4ri0J8J6j78sxB5ETX88sTbvBnmSYWBCSAmVe_d54mxm/s1600/facebook2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq57eIkt83DiJhk_9CGox_lCqPv309XE1RevFePrQTnmleIP71OosD5jO831lUIdqdzg1TQ9xnxF0_I4s3mrDkDKkOdDc4ZO_M4ri0J8J6j78sxB5ETX88sTbvBnmSYWBCSAmVe_d54mxm/s320/facebook2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519843135882303090" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0AipnxMxBJASUvsyZQU7A-WOu_Z0VJXVeqVqaY7T0NnLAID98vfrUj0_5lC0jltg4Z6LhyBeHMF3wY4XOLO7SG4o0-OP9UV_Ky7vtntCndMlorDybhEJaQuadk5OXBfc1-3Wl3heKcWc_/s1600/facebook1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0AipnxMxBJASUvsyZQU7A-WOu_Z0VJXVeqVqaY7T0NnLAID98vfrUj0_5lC0jltg4Z6LhyBeHMF3wY4XOLO7SG4o0-OP9UV_Ky7vtntCndMlorDybhEJaQuadk5OXBfc1-3Wl3heKcWc_/s320/facebook1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519843132058720898" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In the end, flamenco shows you to yourself. What you are, it comes out in flamenco. It limits you, expands you, and exposes you. It's better than therapy. There are no secrets that you can hide. That's why we make such close attachments. But bare souls are also deeply wounded. Maybe I should be grateful that I have a means to express this great loss.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The other attachments can wait.</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbnJ9AdQxDY8N2zIIPiHjj5V2OUrvFvuct-mQpSaWKlip90WnfGq3JiLI-Q7vXkjZDaIz5u_Q0ae6uFWiO13YHUS3r2aJTJXXYGplXvU3BhO9UW_AO5eJvDDC4mgBXtStaC5xqZbRmKEd8/s1600/LaFamilia1_APR08.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbnJ9AdQxDY8N2zIIPiHjj5V2OUrvFvuct-mQpSaWKlip90WnfGq3JiLI-Q7vXkjZDaIz5u_Q0ae6uFWiO13YHUS3r2aJTJXXYGplXvU3BhO9UW_AO5eJvDDC4mgBXtStaC5xqZbRmKEd8/s320/LaFamilia1_APR08.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519840588910619346" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4HB9Uw90UT33DE2cW-yw9OydTOWEQ1UYHtFjeYRNnHw12WaVKjNNGPHrjFOTYVjorJPhu4Kpyjgt921XzPMo0Ut90lpOcy8dXaUVYZHhEUWCz03m0ebEV-7y_DVwEJEb4G0uWbWM0wbk/s1600/IMGP0144med.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4HB9Uw90UT33DE2cW-yw9OydTOWEQ1UYHtFjeYRNnHw12WaVKjNNGPHrjFOTYVjorJPhu4Kpyjgt921XzPMo0Ut90lpOcy8dXaUVYZHhEUWCz03m0ebEV-7y_DVwEJEb4G0uWbWM0wbk/s320/IMGP0144med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519844515371177106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >photo credit: Steve Switzer, Quadra Street Designs</span><br /></div>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-53119228544203836662010-08-04T16:39:00.000-07:002010-08-04T18:40:36.567-07:00Mom Comes to Town or Who Needs Reality?<div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Groovin' on Vancouver Island</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLgwwIzcibjrNSW8XAnIO9O7KYUSBuVN4SMPExnBGMvl2fbxMW_U7ddKG-PVq9ZfyJn11lnh8DkyG1f0hYYwfdSnM2wUP5GGoYUUYUDhzhA9HesQv47d5q1WbvnkNR0Vn3h4CAAc_14WP/s1600/VIMusicFest2010_003sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLgwwIzcibjrNSW8XAnIO9O7KYUSBuVN4SMPExnBGMvl2fbxMW_U7ddKG-PVq9ZfyJn11lnh8DkyG1f0hYYwfdSnM2wUP5GGoYUUYUDhzhA9HesQv47d5q1WbvnkNR0Vn3h4CAAc_14WP/s320/VIMusicFest2010_003sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501705691208713250" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >After being away last summer, Jack and I had been looking forward to taking advantage of all the summertime fun that southern Vancouver Island has to offer. So far we have: gone to the Vancouver Island Music festival, helped with and attended the Flamenco Juerga party, cycled around Bainbridge Island, had picnic dinners on the beach, sipped wine on patios with friends, kept up with hot yoga & running & dancing etc. It got to the point that I realized that I didn't have a free weekend until September. So I was REALLY looking forward to having my 82 year old mom come for a visit.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDwI4VEzaFEh9mtkvg1wJzbPMWipOc9xNoqq-pSg6sPkeFhRgpezDtdkaBA44u7_v4SjVEVl3waRalmDD7RC2xP0ShgYeJq2EJ91kOOGe1WSl9vxrh5dBYp_GCNIiv1_o_FrnFxujnM5J/s1600/MominVictoria2010+018asm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkDwI4VEzaFEh9mtkvg1wJzbPMWipOc9xNoqq-pSg6sPkeFhRgpezDtdkaBA44u7_v4SjVEVl3waRalmDD7RC2xP0ShgYeJq2EJ91kOOGe1WSl9vxrh5dBYp_GCNIiv1_o_FrnFxujnM5J/s320/MominVictoria2010+018asm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501714939922588642" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >There is something wonderful about visiting with an elderly person, because you have to slow down and really be present. And because it was my mom, we had a chance to reminisce and learn more about each other, both knowing that these opportunities are no longer limitless. I enjoy those wonderful "Mom-isms" like: "Oh you've got some grey hair. It's so PRETTY!" (huh?) or "Yes, I'll have some wine" and then stopping my pouring once 1/4 inch is in the glass. "Jack particularly likes being called "kid."<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mom reconfirmed she still doesn't like raw oysters</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJRxCaKd6hPI7V6_opU-167Q8bX1yMWG2-h1lWDxvM4wFIDhuz7fa9ZhjXRrIpcTSm7mPfEj5lnQZL149mZD8Dvs1DhyphenhyphenjR58laBB5iJGp7W4yBX36_YxoQOA45Fk_ZzGhNIWaIeb26xA2/s1600/MominVictoria2010+044sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJRxCaKd6hPI7V6_opU-167Q8bX1yMWG2-h1lWDxvM4wFIDhuz7fa9ZhjXRrIpcTSm7mPfEj5lnQZL149mZD8Dvs1DhyphenhyphenjR58laBB5iJGp7W4yBX36_YxoQOA45Fk_ZzGhNIWaIeb26xA2/s320/MominVictoria2010+044sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501718893974710578" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >When she first arrived, we spent the first day doing absolutely nothing other than fixing meals. On day two, we went to a play, "The Importance of Being Earnest", and after 2 1/2 hours of watching other people eat teacakes and cucumber sandwiches, I was famished. So off to a restaurant with a view of the water (Yes, for you non-Victorians, life is so hard here.) Unfortunately that's when Mom's blood pressure dropped, mine rose, Mom's lips turned blue, she started babbling, and I commanded Jack to dial 911.<br /><br />Sorry no photos of this, I had other things on my mind.<br /><br />While Mom stayed conscious and aware throughout the ordeal, my picture of reality became distorted. She remembered the names of the ambulance drivers. I did not. I moved into the black-hole of panic. They dispatched the slowest ambulance in history to us (their records showed 7 minutes). Our waitress was unconcerned. I told her, "MY MOM IS NOT WELL, MY HUSBAND HAS CALLED 911!!!" To which she replied, "Okay, I'll get your bill."<br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Distorted reality</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvffO8Sx03zx3CQvr_mi_Ezjxi0P3LcvND3ymBJ56HWkPnUXHqH1ulFR4JMkpCBaj1DDWePpzZSTliE3xJ2ZBQUaLmR4kuEH0BcEQmYObflzwIF1XJMRTYnXn62dn8LexhArqVu_vCBg9f/s1600/VIMusicFest2010_363asm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvffO8Sx03zx3CQvr_mi_Ezjxi0P3LcvND3ymBJ56HWkPnUXHqH1ulFR4JMkpCBaj1DDWePpzZSTliE3xJ2ZBQUaLmR4kuEH0BcEQmYObflzwIF1XJMRTYnXn62dn8LexhArqVu_vCBg9f/s320/VIMusicFest2010_363asm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501712488625291074" border="0" /></a><br /><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >In any case, to make a long story short, she had had what is called a transient ischemic attack (TIA) or mini-stroke. Her colour started coming back as soon as she was given oxygen, and she was back to normal within minutes, although we still got to hang around for 4 1/2 hours or so in the emergency room.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >And no, she wasn't going goth</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_NonapoZ90MeNEg_qgPMQUp2E7P1UsRe-AsjUAzJ5vhLfPzbY98lahnmlK-kCBq0T4kry4zjAFU8AMPTqdh6LQrcc7pIivxMVI2IT5r6ij6cvCWe4EikWSJhjUzUuMWVozFP2rdt-0B1/s1600/IMGP0092c.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_NonapoZ90MeNEg_qgPMQUp2E7P1UsRe-AsjUAzJ5vhLfPzbY98lahnmlK-kCBq0T4kry4zjAFU8AMPTqdh6LQrcc7pIivxMVI2IT5r6ij6cvCWe4EikWSJhjUzUuMWVozFP2rdt-0B1/s320/IMGP0092c.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501729733845219410" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><br />This is also when I discovered that they take both Visa and MasterCard at Victoria General Hospital. Who knew? Since she's from the United States, we had to plop down $750 before anyone would see her (post-ambulance) and this did not include the urine-analysis, blood-work or ECG. I could see this alone creating some blood-pressure related complications in myself. Fortunately, having 4 - 5 hours to hang around, we had lots of time to calm down, watch other people pad around in slippers and green, backless dresses, talk to the guy with the really cool spider bite that made his whole leg swell up, and generally avoid making eye contact with a lot of people who look like they regularly spend weekend evenings in the emergency room.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Reality is not an option</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29iY0hPQi1zB3i1zKqnlDARq52y8YbNa3qr3fxjjcQ8hrhUbl7S4Dy4pSH0Uie6IuG0X9jOI5vIQ6ixZ7RuRTzftSLAF2eE_AzQC9QiHBFJHL5IkwkgDi-7kr2pfi3LH0DFnPUuj6a0yZ/s1600/VIMusicFest2010_177asm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29iY0hPQi1zB3i1zKqnlDARq52y8YbNa3qr3fxjjcQ8hrhUbl7S4Dy4pSH0Uie6IuG0X9jOI5vIQ6ixZ7RuRTzftSLAF2eE_AzQC9QiHBFJHL5IkwkgDi-7kr2pfi3LH0DFnPUuj6a0yZ/s320/VIMusicFest2010_177asm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501708995503593026" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><br />I have no great revelations other than the obvious. I remember thinking, is this it? Are the last words my Mom hears going to be "Jack, dial 911"? Are her last words going to be, "everything is turning white"?<br /><br />Let's just say the remainder of her stay, while probably involving too much sugar, was delightfully uneventful. And we both really, REALLY appreciated our time together.<br /></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJ6mNRbEO6YT-d_9Yq0XVrd5E2OPgDOL3xNpM_NciNmaQXyvmuhSI5ecEVOAj-JHBErVuQ6r7Ph3IzHRz7GXIp7zMbvxHwSLdEfqdAs0j-H3vuniknj2HVxQ_pF55idyhiF4CTIf0_LCX/s1600/VIMusicFest2010_370asm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJ6mNRbEO6YT-d_9Yq0XVrd5E2OPgDOL3xNpM_NciNmaQXyvmuhSI5ecEVOAj-JHBErVuQ6r7Ph3IzHRz7GXIp7zMbvxHwSLdEfqdAs0j-H3vuniknj2HVxQ_pF55idyhiF4CTIf0_LCX/s320/VIMusicFest2010_370asm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501712492508586178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8mRmKuJIBlBvjHDHLHhyphenhyphenEdm5a0iKr-AgI76TKblkLoNH0K-JY4Pk2bDmbID01G_q2uYCLzrguHPXTTo-faM8WlLkM9il5OJnxkgtJpPSvple2qzwehDRfW7rY5Tm4VGOBDJPPbZAmOyC/s1600/VIMusicFest2010_057asm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8mRmKuJIBlBvjHDHLHhyphenhyphenEdm5a0iKr-AgI76TKblkLoNH0K-JY4Pk2bDmbID01G_q2uYCLzrguHPXTTo-faM8WlLkM9il5OJnxkgtJpPSvple2qzwehDRfW7rY5Tm4VGOBDJPPbZAmOyC/s320/VIMusicFest2010_057asm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501708984270897122" border="0" /><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Go to a happy place</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> in your mind</span></span><br /></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAO7S514CVq2FriXJSlVj0wZ7dRbGBL_EdY0_c6kzFzo_LsvifmTNVhnwFbKEvybxyKML5_9PpdLXvl4g0GoQ0fkO5xTfpGbF5BAdqd_gmrnuGXPNMsEHbCKuqeFPR6F4PPFYqisHefX-/s1600/VIMusicFest2010_037asm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAO7S514CVq2FriXJSlVj0wZ7dRbGBL_EdY0_c6kzFzo_LsvifmTNVhnwFbKEvybxyKML5_9PpdLXvl4g0GoQ0fkO5xTfpGbF5BAdqd_gmrnuGXPNMsEHbCKuqeFPR6F4PPFYqisHefX-/s320/VIMusicFest2010_037asm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501708980585413490" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-80907831560778022192010-07-19T09:02:00.000-07:002010-07-19T10:18:01.656-07:00Slow blogging<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Too many thoughts</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymFYVZpZaLJrzugMiuPcZXYlmYQ1dXOg2ShPHjE7mntd0K4drQDyFWAmzZxdbwzyWIWc7n1xiVGXycU2kwoCI3CWD9YHJP1mSVnzrq3RytfmNIqIBCDJrHItTNCqtD2xja9YBvTjF0iCr/s1600/VanOlympics2010_143sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymFYVZpZaLJrzugMiuPcZXYlmYQ1dXOg2ShPHjE7mntd0K4drQDyFWAmzZxdbwzyWIWc7n1xiVGXycU2kwoCI3CWD9YHJP1mSVnzrq3RytfmNIqIBCDJrHItTNCqtD2xja9YBvTjF0iCr/s320/VanOlympics2010_143sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495665371822863538" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5y4w4cn-y1rajPoY8-e7CA_NewMkx4LqlyyCafzER0xE3jR9SWhLK9YKhD8_6Cc8cfe8xJr7QlFN51vFDMbtXY7-Yul05nGFT0W4y9GhmlEr3O9VfcdH9e7p3hHWNXsTZ0WuiTk0XbZ8p/s1600/Beach2010_001sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5y4w4cn-y1rajPoY8-e7CA_NewMkx4LqlyyCafzER0xE3jR9SWhLK9YKhD8_6Cc8cfe8xJr7QlFN51vFDMbtXY7-Yul05nGFT0W4y9GhmlEr3O9VfcdH9e7p3hHWNXsTZ0WuiTk0XbZ8p/s320/Beach2010_001sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495665342168170402" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The whole purpose of blogging is to share ideas that others may find interesting, and do it in a timely way. While I was away on our cross Canada trip it was a way to feel like I was still connected to my community while at the same time organizing my thoughts around my experiences. Since I've been home I've fallen into old routines and the blog has, well, bogged.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4U1fr4-1onlAdJhWb7pqTK_KN9v9CklqhKc4N_H3f0ShAM7LSV9rzRKb2yYv2LzojkLp8BBWcnVLGmOHD1H_Qnuj9jtJMzDJS513i9BJIcsj6VbW7kDxqwS29ugYxhLyJKH5mtJ3jRST/s1600/SaveOurHarbour_18sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4U1fr4-1onlAdJhWb7pqTK_KN9v9CklqhKc4N_H3f0ShAM7LSV9rzRKb2yYv2LzojkLp8BBWcnVLGmOHD1H_Qnuj9jtJMzDJS513i9BJIcsj6VbW7kDxqwS29ugYxhLyJKH5mtJ3jRST/s320/SaveOurHarbour_18sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495666809867268962" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Ideas I meant to write on while they were happening, but haven't include:</span> </span><ul><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Olympics & my experience in Vancouver during</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">My 20th anniversary of coming to Canada</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The poor baby whale that washed ashore here</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Salmon Are Sacred march - or "How to keep insects from eating my sushi"<br /></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Las Vegas Blues/Desert light</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Flamenco - or "Why stomping your feet is better than therapy"<br /></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Fibromyalgia (ongoing) - when your body divorces you<br /></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Bike to Work Week - or "why does the vegetarian end up serving a thousand hamburgers"</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Etc.</span></span></li></ul><div style="text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Salmon are Sacred</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS9GGlQT_sRMlPTj6YDtg-4czvOqL-yQ-2qzmBuztjWKOT2IR7HG335cF-c9qHKXUaI0MMnJAHQArCqr2oFYCN9xuXmTyRv_INwOQd5DcT7lmPtzZboCGYX_EopjSqSA4q9ugcfCqcACoi/s1600/SalmonRSacred2010_090sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS9GGlQT_sRMlPTj6YDtg-4czvOqL-yQ-2qzmBuztjWKOT2IR7HG335cF-c9qHKXUaI0MMnJAHQArCqr2oFYCN9xuXmTyRv_INwOQd5DcT7lmPtzZboCGYX_EopjSqSA4q9ugcfCqcACoi/s320/SalmonRSacred2010_090sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495665358750038658" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">At the Salmon are Sacred march I ran into Bruce Elkin, creativity coach </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">(see: <a href="http://www.bruceelkin.com/">www.bruceelkin.com</a>)</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">, and thought - "Oh man, Bruce is all about applying discipline to your creativity. I want to talk to him, but I really don't want to talk to him."<br /><br />Yikes. Maybe my crazy "law of attraction" friends (what I call the "Jiminy Cricket philosophy." You know, "If you wish upon a star..."? Hmm, maybe another topic to add to the above list.) In any case, maybe these crazy people are right. Seeing Bruce was like a little guilty reminder of what I've been meaning to do.<br /><br />The great thing was, being the soul that he is, he reminded me that creativity springs from a tension of where we are and where we want to be, and that people are inherently contradictory. So here's to using that tension as a spring forward. My thoughts are always contradictory, so this should be easy!<br /><br /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Except that that conversation took place in May.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Anyway, I'm thinking that just as 'slow food' is the healthy and thoughtful reaction to fast food, I'm going to start a 'slow blog': A healthy and thoughtful reaction to Facebook and Twitter. That means that next Christmas you may hear about the Olympics or other long past events.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Think of it like wine. No forget it, I drink wine way too fast. Think of it like the chocolate Easter egg that you find in September: A delightful surprise.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQzNxFOVenmmu5P8uoJJoBMO9T3DR2JxZ-XsPVzBK3R_H9xQ-uPPEoVHTPXfjSftk7VwgeW31h4XDVofNcKMLOGUbCVUsSTcMFqmXzJCLFwdKgRt9wzm9fnObc7ZgeR39n8GtCtWt98OL/s1600/Easter2010_08sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQzNxFOVenmmu5P8uoJJoBMO9T3DR2JxZ-XsPVzBK3R_H9xQ-uPPEoVHTPXfjSftk7VwgeW31h4XDVofNcKMLOGUbCVUsSTcMFqmXzJCLFwdKgRt9wzm9fnObc7ZgeR39n8GtCtWt98OL/s320/Easter2010_08sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495653846447119554" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBJGAULI5sQ4eaauKuib7OChyhO20XiycNstoOPraVW-MkQ6Ek_9m3lVGNveN78lRwfDZeWM6fDwdL1epKxIt0dzXqkZAw4gBiimxa-3CyPfZrD6YhVtjZXBvlIJFK15fdRS10EuOivA1/s1600/Easter2010_18sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioBJGAULI5sQ4eaauKuib7OChyhO20XiycNstoOPraVW-MkQ6Ek_9m3lVGNveN78lRwfDZeWM6fDwdL1epKxIt0dzXqkZAw4gBiimxa-3CyPfZrD6YhVtjZXBvlIJFK15fdRS10EuOivA1/s320/Easter2010_18sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495653855653340034" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Excellent. I've talked my way into equating procrastination with fine vintages and ripening cheese. Yes!</span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Badass Flamencas</span><br /></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UgUjCdHn1b1X9q9IXSzI4sE7kk37JI5aG7AVdpwXuzXT-xa-ZUkbSjJWu0Wkiukmll5cTrrnZnt_pMJe3h1HeyJLoKbI0zCNXeiT6SMhlu4pZXMmLSrF529jZ4U7Kg84cgZ1nNLcW6ME/s1600/IMGP0144sm.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UgUjCdHn1b1X9q9IXSzI4sE7kk37JI5aG7AVdpwXuzXT-xa-ZUkbSjJWu0Wkiukmll5cTrrnZnt_pMJe3h1HeyJLoKbI0zCNXeiT6SMhlu4pZXMmLSrF529jZ4U7Kg84cgZ1nNLcW6ME/s320/IMGP0144sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495665349316186866" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-18005605518347519762010-01-13T19:55:00.000-08:002010-01-14T16:40:03.397-08:00"Were You A Good Girl This Year?"<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">"He knows when you are sleeping,<br />He knows if you're awake,<br />He knows if you've been bad or good..."<br />so...?<br /></span></span></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOJRCTgDnZL-RxVPqnYqSzXvq0KZjUoHfYBRgXxyVy1bBkf3hHux7rQcdcNYpR8od0cwW2vtGzpD-VBcTXX9JAGc7GQCQkrkpX3OVQzLcYoDSuYd7RW5ISDkn8ERQK6z5ie-7RS0N0Akz/s1600-h/Christmas2006_Boulder+071med.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOJRCTgDnZL-RxVPqnYqSzXvq0KZjUoHfYBRgXxyVy1bBkf3hHux7rQcdcNYpR8od0cwW2vtGzpD-VBcTXX9JAGc7GQCQkrkpX3OVQzLcYoDSuYd7RW5ISDkn8ERQK6z5ie-7RS0N0Akz/s320/Christmas2006_Boulder+071med.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426443906484022450" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Do you think Santa's coming tonight?"<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">"I dunno."<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Why not? Were you a good girl this year?"<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Not really."<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">"No?"<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Well I was mean to my Grandma and my dog, and I called my mom an 'idiot' a bunch of times."<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzekcj4IkBTIfIPMpCRjfOwQEAtUD8xPn5D_Nv6kA_dJlcwHetnb42tfWNQwzYtW3zX8-k1oXVFZhhf_L7ExbGfP7uz-x-80BKPm2Rq6f7PgxxGj-oHEC6-m7hAvoLaIt9lFN1oRcBcmkd/s1600-h/Christmas2009_052editmed.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzekcj4IkBTIfIPMpCRjfOwQEAtUD8xPn5D_Nv6kA_dJlcwHetnb42tfWNQwzYtW3zX8-k1oXVFZhhf_L7ExbGfP7uz-x-80BKPm2Rq6f7PgxxGj-oHEC6-m7hAvoLaIt9lFN1oRcBcmkd/s320/Christmas2009_052editmed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426443926092467282" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This surprising and refreshingly honest confession came to me from my 4-year-old niece this past Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve is when young children take stock of their transgressions (as is New Years Day for adults) and they ponder whether a certain fat man will eat their cookies and leave presents. As soon as this question came out of my mouth, however, I felt like I really had no right to ask it, because I don't really think that I've been a very good girl this year either.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtsFvn5m7X4MNfwKvDhXZTn6YDomk9mE3TTL_qFStfl4zbBVlMJcj-N9teYj9SigZ_F8B8skOp7HeKUWaEkyxmxS0KIDltJkHJL3My4P0Gb-_Ak5g-4rjfe1fg3I-DFWiXsWgPazZdMFs/s1600-h/Christmas2009_441med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtsFvn5m7X4MNfwKvDhXZTn6YDomk9mE3TTL_qFStfl4zbBVlMJcj-N9teYj9SigZ_F8B8skOp7HeKUWaEkyxmxS0KIDltJkHJL3My4P0Gb-_Ak5g-4rjfe1fg3I-DFWiXsWgPazZdMFs/s320/Christmas2009_441med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426444454075812114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Unintended Consequences</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">A few years ago I saw James Howard Kunstler speak about what he calls, "The Long Emergency." In summary, The Long Emergency is the coming challenges the developed world will face with declining world-wide production of petroleum, as demand for it inexorably increases. This will have ramifications in cost of goods, food production, transportation, manufacturing, home heating, and just about everything else that makes the developed world, well…developed. This, in combination with global climate change, means that relatively rapid changes in our behaviour and attitudes will be required. These are not easy changes either. These are changes like reduced air travel, fewer food choices, more expensive everything. Curmudgeon that I am, I don't think that the majority of the population will go there smilingly.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjehiKi5rzwe65YAGl7wyXqaMCQzS6_OJVr05ktdy0yQ45siLw5bayPTPFkk2jCVx1qORFyHWgaBOpoxIChoW80DP2DQHno8LjP3JQdxUGLd8ru0DxUPoLacMAqkAUy5wAAI3Krk-2OpED/s1600-h/Christmas2009_185editmed.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjehiKi5rzwe65YAGl7wyXqaMCQzS6_OJVr05ktdy0yQ45siLw5bayPTPFkk2jCVx1qORFyHWgaBOpoxIChoW80DP2DQHno8LjP3JQdxUGLd8ru0DxUPoLacMAqkAUy5wAAI3Krk-2OpED/s320/Christmas2009_185editmed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426443945896217330" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The unintended consequence of becoming familiar with The Long Emergency is that I am becoming more of a carbon hog than ever. Me, the long-term bike commuter, vegetarian, Carter-freezing-in-the-dark kWh miser, "close the damn refrigerator", and local-foodie. My dream list of things-to-do-before-I-die includes a lot of travel. Places like: Nepal, Tibet, Mongolia, Botswana, cross-Canada in a Westfalia (tick this one off) will not be practically affordable in the future. Combined with my health, I'm thinking "Let's go NOW!" Which also translates into "Let's use up as much petroleum as we can before others catch on that we're on the downslide from Peak Oil," or "Let's race to the bottom of the well," or, let's face it, "Let's trash the planet."<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sliding to the bottom<br /></span></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipegoZFqyBLpzbtqEqrRDNn9nWVaG-WzQJixjXhUjIRsShhkeJ038UF4UDeiNDW2OyPBS_xs-Mccod9SPiru9kRixCqX_nn9k42xWR2kX26enY6jpTpouHZvTYBrfi42SrJ6zn1jVGFBEI/s1600-h/Christmas2009_311med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipegoZFqyBLpzbtqEqrRDNn9nWVaG-WzQJixjXhUjIRsShhkeJ038UF4UDeiNDW2OyPBS_xs-Mccod9SPiru9kRixCqX_nn9k42xWR2kX26enY6jpTpouHZvTYBrfi42SrJ6zn1jVGFBEI/s320/Christmas2009_311med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426443952546883026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lori's carbon emissions for 2009:</span><br /></span></span><ul><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Flight to U.S.A. for Christmas: 0.5 Tonnes (metric tonnes) CO2</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">One half of 4-month cross-Canada Westfalia travel: 3.35 Tonnes CO2</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Other Westfalia usage: 0.40 Tonnes CO2</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Honda Civic local usage: 0.13 Tonnes CO2</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">One half of household energy usage (11,400 kWh/2): 0.11 Tonnes CO2</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Etc (food, purchases etc.): 3.13*</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Total: 7.62 Tonnes CO2</span></span></span></li></ul><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">We are considering retrofitting our home to become energy neutral, but our home energy use pales in comparison to our travel.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Even Gingerbread Houses Aren't Net Zero<br /></span></span> </div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbr6hCRxec_I00Qhv5d7j5q40hCC3368KygEIgV2iA88slju9XSeaNwfK1vbFVyO8F2EK9r32Y8QZJQQYe9W3NycLFZnK044yNCvhMqqtisTY9ELRl0mkxlSShqVdRDkBxKfgsChdmmZFz/s1600-h/Christmas2009_323med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbr6hCRxec_I00Qhv5d7j5q40hCC3368KygEIgV2iA88slju9XSeaNwfK1vbFVyO8F2EK9r32Y8QZJQQYe9W3NycLFZnK044yNCvhMqqtisTY9ELRl0mkxlSShqVdRDkBxKfgsChdmmZFz/s320/Christmas2009_323med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426444419082196578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">While I was in the US I had a meeting with a designer/facilitator/innovator of net-zero energy homes. He flew to Washington DC and China this year to launch a new program for retrofitting existing building stock in the U.S. Jack is constantly flying to various places in Canada to teach people about LEED (Leadership in Energy & Environmental Design.) A fellow Bike to Work director just got home from Hawaii.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">None of us have been very good this year. So what can I say about my behaviour?<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">"Santa, I was a pretty good girl, will you bring me a new planet?"<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">or maybe I just get a $100,000 Tesla</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAo4rJhzUGUkZKkwP1VsU1QZf1kqD-lIk9HrxbVvu5ZINvK33wwJqMTxQQbRknFCo5FrsP0v89mSsOiiEb04zyd45hyphenhyphen-tu96DFeKSxEADlTal38PnPqMdgKwoYLr_b1zcp3g0DwK7BdBMB/s1600-h/Christmas2009_381editmed.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAo4rJhzUGUkZKkwP1VsU1QZf1kqD-lIk9HrxbVvu5ZINvK33wwJqMTxQQbRknFCo5FrsP0v89mSsOiiEb04zyd45hyphenhyphen-tu96DFeKSxEADlTal38PnPqMdgKwoYLr_b1zcp3g0DwK7BdBMB/s320/Christmas2009_381editmed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426444993474668738" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">*Per http://www.carbonfootprint.com/calculator.aspx<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">at the end of the day it IS all about her...</span></span><br /></div> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmQvrsGV-fPH2CijaKmYf8AusC5bV_MBvKET9e79iUbFsYShzoblP6KIeI1DXz-8WvkIUk9BZJk9L-EErsYxL7v8AIdeVpY2lFWz6AkG3Gk__prj9I5mlxm17RySAkK47_DS2BFCiT4va/s1600-h/Christmas2009_002editmed.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmQvrsGV-fPH2CijaKmYf8AusC5bV_MBvKET9e79iUbFsYShzoblP6KIeI1DXz-8WvkIUk9BZJk9L-EErsYxL7v8AIdeVpY2lFWz6AkG3Gk__prj9I5mlxm17RySAkK47_DS2BFCiT4va/s320/Christmas2009_002editmed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426443920245874210" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrkwaIatv21ZhXubTWFAQc8Rxsv9heu0oWTY3fg5UrBL2tre0q1IXnyyZ_Ay51O4DAyNeKfHiA3N8-dia3MzaIe3o0rFiN57QBefQIyGjqjOxjF8ablQQNsJFA-YrT53WojlpJHK-_Adl/s1600-h/Christmas2009_346med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrkwaIatv21ZhXubTWFAQc8Rxsv9heu0oWTY3fg5UrBL2tre0q1IXnyyZ_Ay51O4DAyNeKfHiA3N8-dia3MzaIe3o0rFiN57QBefQIyGjqjOxjF8ablQQNsJFA-YrT53WojlpJHK-_Adl/s320/Christmas2009_346med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426444424383380274" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVl_Hwepx6psuQznyBpi9et13UnguGIKqhHkv_pdfvzI2y3z4i5KU6Pc-iGuhiqHvOE5ip93TylHiCmu9Iueg1FmZmHh5UuDxRgVRWPyLzE2rfuvQxGFWnMT9f-R2uytsBleiJNdR2mgZ/s1600-h/Christmas2009_389editmed.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVl_Hwepx6psuQznyBpi9et13UnguGIKqhHkv_pdfvzI2y3z4i5KU6Pc-iGuhiqHvOE5ip93TylHiCmu9Iueg1FmZmHh5UuDxRgVRWPyLzE2rfuvQxGFWnMT9f-R2uytsBleiJNdR2mgZ/s320/Christmas2009_389editmed.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426444442007401346" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-52804239645115913642009-11-25T16:00:00.000-08:002010-01-14T16:19:11.068-08:00I'll Have a Tall Extra-Hot Detox Macchiato<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEm-uiOEjbLRvpTNLS-EuKyJPqGqPfiX3kdqnW7GoKq-3-CBg02fHsvf5y89E4nf4mvmyKULyoYTxvY3iz2CQqxdrEjJTmKQ6_6ImHMtWORE8hOGPhnaSmDGV2ZnZe5EQxKgKKFFe2TDT/s1600/Rocky2008_0009_bw+copy_small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEm-uiOEjbLRvpTNLS-EuKyJPqGqPfiX3kdqnW7GoKq-3-CBg02fHsvf5y89E4nf4mvmyKULyoYTxvY3iz2CQqxdrEjJTmKQ6_6ImHMtWORE8hOGPhnaSmDGV2ZnZe5EQxKgKKFFe2TDT/s320/Rocky2008_0009_bw+copy_small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408201826391111810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We have been home in Victoria for almost a month now. I've gotten re-acquainted with where things are in the kitchen, and yes the joy of actually having a kitchen again. Vegetarian eating! And is it too much to say the "ecstasy" of having my own personal espresso machine? I think it was in Newfoundland where Jack had to jump behind the counter and show the waitress how to use the restaurant's espresso machine. No one had ever asked for a drink from it before.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFr1SDkM8bVU0bXpOenmXo0vA86IAWhDuOXJZpReyIEZrTL6hs9komtpR1wod2HdwGwvKM3xMhaaOyBU4a0SvTXs0Ichsi1NQj0HnbtOl4_ECTVJt97Vn8NDYiE8QUbJPFHwWJTpTHuPof/s1600/Jack+%26+Rocky.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFr1SDkM8bVU0bXpOenmXo0vA86IAWhDuOXJZpReyIEZrTL6hs9komtpR1wod2HdwGwvKM3xMhaaOyBU4a0SvTXs0Ichsi1NQj0HnbtOl4_ECTVJt97Vn8NDYiE8QUbJPFHwWJTpTHuPof/s320/Jack+%26+Rocky.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408201834137530530" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">When we returned, we literally had almost of week of illness, that we think was actually detox from road-food and way too much caffeine. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">Then our poor cat Rocky suddenly became ill and died. As my friend Sophie said, it was "a f**king sob-fest."<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSc-G26j45SxMAB4jIaZ8BO7wHp3UZcIONhzzG0NGh_gKZtFAmFLM46CLATgmP4tGLWRJVVdFHak2AROsndUW5rYZUaHA5aIjV-qwTjIlKy_RPRkA_wue_NFTkTtynns2m1YbCB41snC2I/s1600/IMGP1015cropped.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSc-G26j45SxMAB4jIaZ8BO7wHp3UZcIONhzzG0NGh_gKZtFAmFLM46CLATgmP4tGLWRJVVdFHak2AROsndUW5rYZUaHA5aIjV-qwTjIlKy_RPRkA_wue_NFTkTtynns2m1YbCB41snC2I/s320/IMGP1015cropped.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408201814856631298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In any case I am still feeling unsettled. I recognize "reverse culture-shock" and have experienced it before, although I hadn't expected it from my own country. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeD1GHOgANXt8ZFRUmWGiXAmcIKynbjsVH9DStFw4sjKfrWMnm7fKmZu85o8BzsL7HsymKkfIe7VVO0Pm2UavO_Bx8TIbGN_bHTCIDV2EbyyU3ndxMbqoxO3T3umYapTHMc-sRFgiPyuq/s1600/Canada2009_1001_007edit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeD1GHOgANXt8ZFRUmWGiXAmcIKynbjsVH9DStFw4sjKfrWMnm7fKmZu85o8BzsL7HsymKkfIe7VVO0Pm2UavO_Bx8TIbGN_bHTCIDV2EbyyU3ndxMbqoxO3T3umYapTHMc-sRFgiPyuq/s400/Canada2009_1001_007edit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408203364236475426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The term 'macchiato' is typically used to describe an espresso drink that has just a touch of milk. In Italian it actually means, 'marked' or 'stained.' And I suspect my culture-shock may turn into some permanent macchiatos. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4E9VBeUUZI751Zoe5-kK8g4GQA_MP29jKEBMpl2pm0ZNqTUVSrHfbmgwUjNpH-w7Vgfoz_bvbOlghcb_u1bpNLBudlcqVS-oNN21aTFmAsHxtA76k5-yJiAuClJG4tWwbHFkU7RW_gJKE/s1600/Canada2009_0928_131edit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4E9VBeUUZI751Zoe5-kK8g4GQA_MP29jKEBMpl2pm0ZNqTUVSrHfbmgwUjNpH-w7Vgfoz_bvbOlghcb_u1bpNLBudlcqVS-oNN21aTFmAsHxtA76k5-yJiAuClJG4tWwbHFkU7RW_gJKE/s320/Canada2009_0928_131edit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408215722193176178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs84Ui0YGTQzeQBINlshpj3jT79qclREyQMCZfwZ_tchVv6QTwx9AXOKsLH4Dfw5iK0KuUx4Z3SrTBiNBfVE79bDGmeKXyibZDEMGM4V8VB6P5UnzyOkOT8Vxb36G9KqBvq8YUg2qksedo/s1600/Canada2009_0917_192.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs84Ui0YGTQzeQBINlshpj3jT79qclREyQMCZfwZ_tchVv6QTwx9AXOKsLH4Dfw5iK0KuUx4Z3SrTBiNBfVE79bDGmeKXyibZDEMGM4V8VB6P5UnzyOkOT8Vxb36G9KqBvq8YUg2qksedo/s320/Canada2009_0917_192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408217132061658386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">An unexpected permanent stain from the trip is my attitude towards the seal hunt in Newfoundland. This is particularly shocking considering my pain, guilt and existential questioning of our choice to have poor Rocky euthanized. Also, when I was a kid I was scandalized by the seal hunt from the time I was 10 years old, when our teacher invited Greenpeace to come into the classroom and speak to us (yeah well it was Boulder Colorado, 'where the hip meet to trip.') The idea of taking a big club and bopping a cute, innocent, fluffy, white, baby ball of cuddliness over the head is still something I would have a hard time doing myself. Let alone 300,000 of them in a year. It's obviously something that's emotional.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFr1SDkM8bVU0bXpOenmXo0vA86IAWhDuOXJZpReyIEZrTL6hs9komtpR1wod2HdwGwvKM3xMhaaOyBU4a0SvTXs0Ichsi1NQj0HnbtOl4_ECTVJt97Vn8NDYiE8QUbJPFHwWJTpTHuPof/s1600/Jack+%26+Rocky.JPG"><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Graveyards</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9wAbpojjBF7LFOTsp6AQ7ly7a1qk-0gC4Ta8UN1vBuBaae28X09wvOt6jlPTdNTOpIHkzwtb5Ql4TRWgNGpIIWRT42YbcSHNxQHZT2GpHei8Fl7vo1v-R69-LYfwGNzqSjePa6TEi2_S/s1600/Canada2009_1001_196edit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9wAbpojjBF7LFOTsp6AQ7ly7a1qk-0gC4Ta8UN1vBuBaae28X09wvOt6jlPTdNTOpIHkzwtb5Ql4TRWgNGpIIWRT42YbcSHNxQHZT2GpHei8Fl7vo1v-R69-LYfwGNzqSjePa6TEi2_S/s400/Canada2009_1001_196edit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408220265848150146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZzu5Fcg3pIa9NUXSEqg1tkFk8AXnMOIXSjfFGI8VI7_jyexNt12j9vPMQLcnD3WcMzJUL2yYpNVmu9dZaCtn52yOgJXeyVCVPJdwaUR6pZWRF23NhKlyfEK0IDf1CK1sMepf5xW_u3CC/s1600/Canada2009_1001_011editsm.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZzu5Fcg3pIa9NUXSEqg1tkFk8AXnMOIXSjfFGI8VI7_jyexNt12j9vPMQLcnD3WcMzJUL2yYpNVmu9dZaCtn52yOgJXeyVCVPJdwaUR6pZWRF23NhKlyfEK0IDf1CK1sMepf5xW_u3CC/s400/Canada2009_1001_011editsm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408204443532904306" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I am also completely convinced that if they rounded up the live seals and put them on a truck and 'processed' them in a big metal 'facility' somewhere, the world would have no problem with it at all. Like is done with the 100,000 cows per DAY in the USA alone, (or the 420,000 pigs, or the 23 million chickens...) This has nothing to do with sustainability, but with humane treatment.<br /></span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Implements of torture?</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdIauWL_imzOEdoZcp8x3YPqhGYqhirNcE4y6oYVQXndV2jzBTvM7R8j76R66sGL422PrWYKRRxlcuwnAv10NBSMiBH08cfiP-FrDi9eqbT6NYfddCfDOH_Nf06L3NCMYezRxkUxyktMV/s1600/Canada2009_0913_241edit.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdIauWL_imzOEdoZcp8x3YPqhGYqhirNcE4y6oYVQXndV2jzBTvM7R8j76R66sGL422PrWYKRRxlcuwnAv10NBSMiBH08cfiP-FrDi9eqbT6NYfddCfDOH_Nf06L3NCMYezRxkUxyktMV/s320/Canada2009_0913_241edit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408218042515176578" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Theoretically, there are humane standards for killing animals. Theoretically the animals are 'stunned' (not killed) before they are strung up by the heels to have their throat slit and having had the pleasure of watching what happened to the individual in front of them. You get the picture. I know that for my cat, we had the vet make a house call to avoid the trauma of the car trip and the stainless steel table, but in the end Rocky struggled to get away from the needle. This is as humane as it gets. In industrial killing there is no time for caring.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqCJA8ah0dG7ta84zZa5-7poHu0O-43Fm8KyJgWiSUYZ27re4QxawNJD7-r789l6TICZgjum6fxJYTfgpcnqjrFYwy4D6YYYl0TqjbG5T6kOMxYSdZ4g6U0xr43Uzf7aIN4s1PR2p1aDZ/s1600/Canada2009_1001_089edit.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqCJA8ah0dG7ta84zZa5-7poHu0O-43Fm8KyJgWiSUYZ27re4QxawNJD7-r789l6TICZgjum6fxJYTfgpcnqjrFYwy4D6YYYl0TqjbG5T6kOMxYSdZ4g6U0xr43Uzf7aIN4s1PR2p1aDZ/s400/Canada2009_1001_089edit.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408205313603394258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I think the Newfoundlanders are astounded by the backlash, because Brigitte Bardot never bothered to have her photo taken cuddling up to a cod. The way a fish dies is never considered by anyone. When I worked in the fish plant, some of the salmon would come in practically chopped in two by net marks from being squished with tons (literally) of other fish in a purse seine. Not a way I would choose to die. But it happens underwater, so no one sees, so that makes it okay. Besides fish aren't that cuddly.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkugk6G1jHnxpXEyTsHt4uc8y6bx0SDDKnex5LKUpg8iFMnNfQ_ac3uFQK7Va36ZCHO7B3piadDxUSWlyXSePBsTLCUtjihidSUaKj4LuMWlAoRWXQEIK5lZRzDbUW392T342aNz04Ku9K/s1600/brigitte_bardot_cod2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 464px; height: 321px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkugk6G1jHnxpXEyTsHt4uc8y6bx0SDDKnex5LKUpg8iFMnNfQ_ac3uFQK7Va36ZCHO7B3piadDxUSWlyXSePBsTLCUtjihidSUaKj4LuMWlAoRWXQEIK5lZRzDbUW392T342aNz04Ku9K/s400/brigitte_bardot_cod2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408201957515379410" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Maybe I should have had that seal dinner after all. It still would have made more sense than a Big-Mac.</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgOh-fS3Q6vGZ-yQ_yReHpHe6xD0yXPUpbOPzEwzeSvwiOeJbyyTY2PJhtQthEQNqYFGmzxLFk1f3D8GIxpr9EYefe7OnAPZhAizeF-jbOuj4VdC0jnH5fitrHnXGvIO2NALW-Zqvo0Ny/s1600/Canada2009_0927_166sm.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgOh-fS3Q6vGZ-yQ_yReHpHe6xD0yXPUpbOPzEwzeSvwiOeJbyyTY2PJhtQthEQNqYFGmzxLFk1f3D8GIxpr9EYefe7OnAPZhAizeF-jbOuj4VdC0jnH5fitrHnXGvIO2NALW-Zqvo0Ny/s320/Canada2009_0927_166sm.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408212525765352882" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-4900187178399536022009-10-24T09:26:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:26:49.212-08:00Taking Sides<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0cZ0eJ1oC8iCKRCCNfCicC6GC8qLw89SIXQO5fFjtbEpylkwhTFnk6gZZaS31FUhBuoYIWa9JP1ROxFTe4F4LbFi4sWwjCBFL89NV6q1THd7U9ra_-mMyCuKDGFXU-Ubl3shofYHdjQT/s1600-h/Canada2009_1020_127med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0cZ0eJ1oC8iCKRCCNfCicC6GC8qLw89SIXQO5fFjtbEpylkwhTFnk6gZZaS31FUhBuoYIWa9JP1ROxFTe4F4LbFi4sWwjCBFL89NV6q1THd7U9ra_-mMyCuKDGFXU-Ubl3shofYHdjQT/s400/Canada2009_1020_127med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396207521553503538" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixsrK5U59S3sXrTVtRZCtJ15l0poNI8qEg_M-cTECtjItCrl2Ic_IP_tizVdSwaQsRcRc1ePu2oFCvB9icGIamRtTm9Qo3lEvrvgvst8SP3Pb0UgDJrLJs-7HzRJ4YWzt82BG3_03uxAD7/s1600-h/Canada2009_1019_004med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 588px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixsrK5U59S3sXrTVtRZCtJ15l0poNI8qEg_M-cTECtjItCrl2Ic_IP_tizVdSwaQsRcRc1ePu2oFCvB9icGIamRtTm9Qo3lEvrvgvst8SP3Pb0UgDJrLJs-7HzRJ4YWzt82BG3_03uxAD7/s400/Canada2009_1019_004med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396205434233721122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We had the "good fortune" to be in Saskatoon when "W" came to town.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We had heard there would be a protest at the site where he was speaking, and we wanted to swell their numbers by two. When we arrived, we found a few people milling about, but other than 3 old ladies with an unreadable sign, most looked like they were there to actually listen to W speak. (The whole idea of 1. George W Bush putting together actual sentences, and 2. someone wanting to listen to them, is unfathomable and I'm sure covered in someone else's blog.)<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >Kandahar Saskatchewan that is.<br />The bombed out looking building is a dilapidated decommissioned school.</span></span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxxwhdI4EWxmALawUKwx5iwHbWYnwVyDoGGqk-O47HpxmmuD_BwWThUxuZynEJMnNpnhbS5kKCUMzOBRzDNoUvN6AeYQi1NmC6BwH6OEv0V3CfGlsGEXzycwNepO78uLORaPqrBGbZFIN/s1600-h/Canada2009_1020_112med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 165px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxxwhdI4EWxmALawUKwx5iwHbWYnwVyDoGGqk-O47HpxmmuD_BwWThUxuZynEJMnNpnhbS5kKCUMzOBRzDNoUvN6AeYQi1NmC6BwH6OEv0V3CfGlsGEXzycwNepO78uLORaPqrBGbZFIN/s320/Canada2009_1020_112med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204629229887506" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Meanwhile, I was not sure to be happy that no one thinks W is worth protesting, or depressed that no one cared. Expressing this to my neighbour, she said, "Oh no they are gathering at the farmer's market and all coming together."<br /></span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Does the farmer lean to the right too?</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPab-POkgziWWZYnlj2-eOShO8H5yfP9H7ytJ6NT95fMHqVAH-W47QQDKV2mfp9by52WpylZX_nkqwbcWjmePil51qMGMYlFfOPpeaofqRcNCE5KC9xSUSixOZkSOIJSNhyJdBJqAKvBN8/s1600-h/Canada2009_1020_092med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 158px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPab-POkgziWWZYnlj2-eOShO8H5yfP9H7ytJ6NT95fMHqVAH-W47QQDKV2mfp9by52WpylZX_nkqwbcWjmePil51qMGMYlFfOPpeaofqRcNCE5KC9xSUSixOZkSOIJSNhyJdBJqAKvBN8/s320/Canada2009_1020_092med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204627344939122" border="0" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The interesting net affect was that I was standing on the "secure" side of the barricade when the protesters did arrive. By then, there was a huge long line of people waiting to get into the show. They were mostly white men wearing crisp white shirts, black leather jackets, shiny black shoes, and expensive jeans: the chamber of commerce type. (sorry Rob).<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD96sTPwYR6JKXCCcAHJsrvgJFn9gcdEKAuwd06Y3DYBi3_YqS5bZzcqG4sIvKH-lDq_PVbI2gW-2GChXxw2Xn6-mtxRpoOZsTMfqbOv8temZ19a4FH34QpONvCBNdjpAoAbhJZA1mBW4v/s1600-h/Canada2009_1021_032med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD96sTPwYR6JKXCCcAHJsrvgJFn9gcdEKAuwd06Y3DYBi3_YqS5bZzcqG4sIvKH-lDq_PVbI2gW-2GChXxw2Xn6-mtxRpoOZsTMfqbOv8temZ19a4FH34QpONvCBNdjpAoAbhJZA1mBW4v/s320/Canada2009_1021_032med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204642650830786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">On the other side of the street, behind another barricade, were the protesters, wearing a colourful assortment of woolies, with banners, signs etc.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcR1oYNaOF4IeraO7X6S34CAUWyi-4nQHXKTVUwDqFWLQBe5FGygcqFqgS16CPKbdhAfjWpfWeMe7AMV5nFC-FUwSBt7CO8u5iQK-VAkj6FRCWFtl6TKnhl8VmxZQgTDHIrDNDaiahCHb/s1600-h/Canada2009_1021_063med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJcR1oYNaOF4IeraO7X6S34CAUWyi-4nQHXKTVUwDqFWLQBe5FGygcqFqgS16CPKbdhAfjWpfWeMe7AMV5nFC-FUwSBt7CO8u5iQK-VAkj6FRCWFtl6TKnhl8VmxZQgTDHIrDNDaiahCHb/s320/Canada2009_1021_063med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204967258236610" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Because I was wearing a worn Gor-tex jacket, and was carrying a largish SLR camera, everyone must have assumed I was a journalist (as in, a REAL one.) A note to keep in mind if you ever wish to get behind a barricade.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Of course, W was escorted thru the back of the building and was never visible, let alone in reach of the few shoes that were thrown into the middle of the street, or within reach of the imaginary pie that Jack dreamed of tossing.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFa1UO-DfEklGxIt9RRfjMt_NuwUMgG5UfCCKlYnFLqXBAzxEX1NEUXMa8eaX2RAl27Z3PW3Ne0hX9TgGHrq04Wn5Thu_OcRbu_1wGhjtXYj1rdXHEfmgWO5LEuuC7VnSs83UmTQc4Xavf/s1600-h/Canada2009_1021_074med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFa1UO-DfEklGxIt9RRfjMt_NuwUMgG5UfCCKlYnFLqXBAzxEX1NEUXMa8eaX2RAl27Z3PW3Ne0hX9TgGHrq04Wn5Thu_OcRbu_1wGhjtXYj1rdXHEfmgWO5LEuuC7VnSs83UmTQc4Xavf/s320/Canada2009_1021_074med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204964549078562" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In any case, after taking a photo of the 3 elderly women, who were escorted by police to the correct side of the barricade, I was left with Global TV and an assortment of photographers who ignored me. Jack had left by this time, since this side of the street had become "the enemy." The feeling of discomfort at being left there was overwhelming in me. I wanted to ask some people why they had spent $150 each to sit and listen to this person. What did they really think they'd learn? But I found I was too lazy or too scared to ask the question.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">These elderly ladies get police escort to the other side of the barrier</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4chGG0UCFweKT1ZLecVJ1AnbHbt5-YHMEa4n8LTlfUUycF51ag6iYNzSRjl2NNTtveknv8mtphTK3fki_sv7Ew4JCJdu8OHN53IatJfWmZtK1sVQVf1qhld7boICKT8V9fRK7D1u4seP/s1600-h/Canada2009_1021_047med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix4chGG0UCFweKT1ZLecVJ1AnbHbt5-YHMEa4n8LTlfUUycF51ag6iYNzSRjl2NNTtveknv8mtphTK3fki_sv7Ew4JCJdu8OHN53IatJfWmZtK1sVQVf1qhld7boICKT8V9fRK7D1u4seP/s320/Canada2009_1021_047med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204962928431250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">One of the loudest protesters had a megaphone and was insisting that "911 WAS AN INSIDE JOB." I didn't want to associate myself with this wingnut either. I thought it was unfortunate that the W-supporting wingnuts looked so reasonable. And then another protester tried to start a fight with an attendee who was smiling. So much for give peace a chance.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">So much of our world is groups of people separated by barricades and lines, physical, mental, ideological. So much energy spent just trying to move those barriers around and saying, "We want more room on my side." On this trip I've been talking to hunters, loggers, chemical farmers; people with whom I would have thought I have little in common. But by talking with them about their passions, I've found that I do.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Round-Up or not, it's still beautiful</span></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLvL3Da4bwTFrr5DPGQcZiHd4BN-jQsGKMmEV8Lm-Qcb45l5mie5dkBAmHIyLlMdURQiVYut4kMzva1eTTHom2OldqijP176kmM0uzHeVy1PK3ut7A-9wH82Lr-N67G3ZBb4WWdAmzYqty/s1600-h/Canada2009_1021_181medb.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLvL3Da4bwTFrr5DPGQcZiHd4BN-jQsGKMmEV8Lm-Qcb45l5mie5dkBAmHIyLlMdURQiVYut4kMzva1eTTHom2OldqijP176kmM0uzHeVy1PK3ut7A-9wH82Lr-N67G3ZBb4WWdAmzYqty/s320/Canada2009_1021_181medb.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204969595666034" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Finally I politely moved thru the lineup to the middle of the street where I stood, as usual, in the middle, thinking what a great metaphor this was. I also determined that I was invisible, because other protesters standing beside me were escorted by police back to behind their barrier while I was left alone.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">In the end I did decide that I had to take a side, so I made my way to the protesters, having decided that the non-wingnuts need to be loud too sometimes. </span> </span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">These birds of a feather do stick together<br />(the snow geese were intimidated and left earlier)</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzIZ4K4iZQyI8E5y-4eKihdkin3MaGLgaxGoE4j4ye0AbMwZtDANgNINyltRIOWCETbA9BasS74jcCNjxLBzN1btdTOunvp9OH9xddmcA5wprwM8aoFVMHhnB0dqAghC_vc7xgZzrNPgY/s1600-h/Canada2009_1020_135med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzIZ4K4iZQyI8E5y-4eKihdkin3MaGLgaxGoE4j4ye0AbMwZtDANgNINyltRIOWCETbA9BasS74jcCNjxLBzN1btdTOunvp9OH9xddmcA5wprwM8aoFVMHhnB0dqAghC_vc7xgZzrNPgY/s320/Canada2009_1020_135med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396204641503809778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAAYXYJamDy1wcJcHsC6ueX0yWpBeijeiJQhLcie6rL4e_k9fF-5Mv2q6oP7bHcTOwkvGSLyVvA1J6hSvSq1gRodCnITLWpH3WMG4SaituPIQKt-TbQSXVgJtvP1IayvNy9u1RkP3X1e0/s1600-h/Canada2009_1021_221med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmAAYXYJamDy1wcJcHsC6ueX0yWpBeijeiJQhLcie6rL4e_k9fF-5Mv2q6oP7bHcTOwkvGSLyVvA1J6hSvSq1gRodCnITLWpH3WMG4SaituPIQKt-TbQSXVgJtvP1IayvNy9u1RkP3X1e0/s400/Canada2009_1021_221med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396205436856748530" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-30864920750199868892009-10-16T06:57:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:21:49.458-08:00Thanksgiving – Giving Thanks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji88CL_7QacCqWdZt7tTYW0tgSTP-TBNht4bDq8GmscpetbbAWq115T36oJ3G-JmOmhC_ztiMitW0Es0dXp1iQ31V0wxu-e_XeZTQHVSdF91pe-JRHT0qqHYi9XOH1Yjjz99A8X4Ttv_nQ/s1600-h/Canada2009_1010_022med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji88CL_7QacCqWdZt7tTYW0tgSTP-TBNht4bDq8GmscpetbbAWq115T36oJ3G-JmOmhC_ztiMitW0Es0dXp1iQ31V0wxu-e_XeZTQHVSdF91pe-JRHT0qqHYi9XOH1Yjjz99A8X4Ttv_nQ/s320/Canada2009_1010_022med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200590413182530" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClJuVWvwBgEC8f-2iVxiPQK0FvtbzMPpNbIVkmcJf6hrDw09QA5YSExBnlsM25aRInTQw9552T-UmSXZZudNW3XcIIgWl4tFNfWA1VhbH6CcGlVDqAOfFBwt5_10oPM7FoXWtXX3yIxT6/s1600-h/Canada2009_1012_001med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClJuVWvwBgEC8f-2iVxiPQK0FvtbzMPpNbIVkmcJf6hrDw09QA5YSExBnlsM25aRInTQw9552T-UmSXZZudNW3XcIIgWl4tFNfWA1VhbH6CcGlVDqAOfFBwt5_10oPM7FoXWtXX3yIxT6/s320/Canada2009_1012_001med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200168482411090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">"For food for friends for loving care,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />for gifts to give, for gifts to share,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />for all that makes live sweet and good</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Dear God…(something something something)"</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This was the preamble to a grace that my family used to say prior to eating and prior to Dad becoming vehemently anti-religion. I don’t remember when that happened exactly.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">But this thanksgiving day, it all applies.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gcbJknLofD3n0LYESlzPLSTGQndfqfTi2WILFi7sqF0MJJvK7QxCqqX3Yv8Cwdx_5ByzusSXa6RvqeMIOhP_-8z9FgHBe3LpsGXLN60IlMq0LGWhspjVIF9IMoiOo9KdNLIgHUaPXLRS/s1600-h/Canada2009_1012_151med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gcbJknLofD3n0LYESlzPLSTGQndfqfTi2WILFi7sqF0MJJvK7QxCqqX3Yv8Cwdx_5ByzusSXa6RvqeMIOhP_-8z9FgHBe3LpsGXLN60IlMq0LGWhspjVIF9IMoiOo9KdNLIgHUaPXLRS/s320/Canada2009_1012_151med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200144409616210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We are truly blessed as individuals and as a nation to live in the fashion to which we've become accustomed.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">For this year's Thanksgiving, called Action de Grace in French (or as Peter says, Inaction de Grace, since the Quebequois do not recognize the day in any way other than another day off from work), we had the good fortune to have 3 thanksgiving dinners. One in the Laurentians, one near Pointe Au Chene, near the Ottawa river, and one in Ottawa (on the other side of the river). Actually there was a fourth too, in a place called Echo Lake with the brother and sister-in-law of a close friend.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSJqM1c38nrbgr1M-o6XptE8DSRtEr_kW0jG6_2A_39eVFJw7JXThyphenhyphenGj1D3vHbR6GV0kzbskjki7Y7NlMaD2cQkbDuAl6c3ds5_BLles0Q9p_01-SfwDr0pAsuG6TS1Iuo_npMNqSjMU1/s1600-h/Canada2009_1012_156med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBSJqM1c38nrbgr1M-o6XptE8DSRtEr_kW0jG6_2A_39eVFJw7JXThyphenhyphenGj1D3vHbR6GV0kzbskjki7Y7NlMaD2cQkbDuAl6c3ds5_BLles0Q9p_01-SfwDr0pAsuG6TS1Iuo_npMNqSjMU1/s320/Canada2009_1012_156med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200134014186994" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">For all of these dinners the hippy west-coast vegetarians had to suck it up and eat meat. Oh so difficult when it's succulent duck breast with a maple cranberry sauce. Or a tender chicken raised there on the property. Or beef raised there on the property served with veggies also raised there, all with views over a lovely river valley, or lake. At all of these dinners we had thought-provoking conversation, often about the food we were eating.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Real vegetarians</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwGVi4tXvAm8lJEquD4C6a5rg1EGK9LzjgR2LTBM4iAiJbX90nZEkXYp7deDPqW1zgWhRnhv1hC9MLpUPvjoIkpPCNAzJDQY3DKB3G2Nnj_DLWs29an7boWlT7PjOr_x8hNhooGkcZEst/s1600-h/Canada2009_1009_093med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwGVi4tXvAm8lJEquD4C6a5rg1EGK9LzjgR2LTBM4iAiJbX90nZEkXYp7deDPqW1zgWhRnhv1hC9MLpUPvjoIkpPCNAzJDQY3DKB3G2Nnj_DLWs29an7boWlT7PjOr_x8hNhooGkcZEst/s320/Canada2009_1009_093med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393199225493541042" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">At Lac Saint Jean in the Saguenay valley, we came upon a view of the lake and in the distance the wind was creating whitecaps all across the lake. Then Jack said, "those aren't waves, they're birds.” Sure enough, thousands of Snow Geese (not snowbirds, those are a different breed altogether) had descended onto the lake and surrounding fields. At one point a few began to take off and then a few more and then a continuous stream of V's and W's began to fly overhead. </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span> <div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >not snow...snow geese</span></span><br /></div> <span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-gFc1CbEqnGejgJFIHyF0WF2QhIZoUN34WwboZZRnt9OIHVzoOzUW7ZWA3ofxyYEP2a_vbcXQ3m7WeIjt8QY7YDf317nNA0Lh33GF_il48y1ILIJ7KsxeE-VXaPRdyNkjUhi7l7qP97P/s1600-h/Canada2009_1008_100med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 54px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-gFc1CbEqnGejgJFIHyF0WF2QhIZoUN34WwboZZRnt9OIHVzoOzUW7ZWA3ofxyYEP2a_vbcXQ3m7WeIjt8QY7YDf317nNA0Lh33GF_il48y1ILIJ7KsxeE-VXaPRdyNkjUhi7l7qP97P/s320/Canada2009_1008_100med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393201033334072066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEganeHPe4DJmzUuIx7j1yzve9-11tL9E3OmhJvJk2nuTfB8WMMIOWP-Stg0CqBjI7qmySK79RP0xcXxOwviqVxUOAiu0CroD3yPe5wvESyEYcT5AIQsm8jbiCyLzulcRhZv66JLLCGSafyt/s1600-h/Canada2009_1008_029med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEganeHPe4DJmzUuIx7j1yzve9-11tL9E3OmhJvJk2nuTfB8WMMIOWP-Stg0CqBjI7qmySK79RP0xcXxOwviqVxUOAiu0CroD3yPe5wvESyEYcT5AIQsm8jbiCyLzulcRhZv66JLLCGSafyt/s320/Canada2009_1008_029med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393201027294721170" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo0UyK5mYg3LE6m_U-L3gBtNbTcR5yoeCcq__KbDnC7HGimP2pq-aLG12xzj2SOh8AwF65zPmO7zstFJgKxystCmk3B31AN_eedj5q4IAGF0i-P9SUL8tcIJhGNVQnex2nBd9z4ELokUr/s1600-h/Canada2009_1008_020med2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo0UyK5mYg3LE6m_U-L3gBtNbTcR5yoeCcq__KbDnC7HGimP2pq-aLG12xzj2SOh8AwF65zPmO7zstFJgKxystCmk3B31AN_eedj5q4IAGF0i-P9SUL8tcIJhGNVQnex2nBd9z4ELokUr/s320/Canada2009_1008_020med2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393199206451899282" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">They were close and beautiful in striking white and black and I was relishing the joy of flight, and then…POP POP POP. And a goose began to tumble, catch itself and glide painfully down to the field where a hunter ran towards it. It could only run away on goose feet, and I was imagining trying to run in a hayfield while shot and wearing a pair of snorkeling flippers.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">finding the beauty in catching your dinner</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtSIInDCOj6OJB2uQVuYAm0M1Fkjc_Yz6eiz3oVZx8LuHOqzcWsEaQoL2jc49bCuFB5nHJIqjwl-ScyNzndhrIAa6nWMXnYnEmXCub7LQO7bXfZFgbZpZsEFEYRN0Hm3-tNdxj2S_Gwsqb/s1600-h/Canada2009_1009_080med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 172px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtSIInDCOj6OJB2uQVuYAm0M1Fkjc_Yz6eiz3oVZx8LuHOqzcWsEaQoL2jc49bCuFB5nHJIqjwl-ScyNzndhrIAa6nWMXnYnEmXCub7LQO7bXfZFgbZpZsEFEYRN0Hm3-tNdxj2S_Gwsqb/s320/Canada2009_1009_080med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393199230282021842" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We’ve seen a lot of dead animals, moose, geese, caribou, and the people who feel remarkable pride in killing them. And I can appreciate the pride, while at the same time I'm feeling the pain of the animal and sadness at the whole affair. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVJZd0jpm-gtrkKiIl-bTqqtpozoCYmsMoIUZHo50fkbQ2nXuN7sxE4iaQyUnZmO00TWmaEjsYuTsRlKQ_jYI6x-s7H-wD41JzJG8qPHh0iO7auJ0Q2n-UeE2MP3HzfIp_P4uzeBsw7GG/s1600-h/Canada2009_1006_058.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVJZd0jpm-gtrkKiIl-bTqqtpozoCYmsMoIUZHo50fkbQ2nXuN7sxE4iaQyUnZmO00TWmaEjsYuTsRlKQ_jYI6x-s7H-wD41JzJG8qPHh0iO7auJ0Q2n-UeE2MP3HzfIp_P4uzeBsw7GG/s320/Canada2009_1006_058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393199213453325474" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">As in my last blog, I'm still a bit "unhinged" as one of you so eloquently put it. And I continue to be so. The complexities around a simple thing like eating could only have been invented in North America. Perhaps not something for which to be thankful. But the trip has given me a new perspective on my idealistic ideals, and for that I am thankful.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >yeah..more beauty...yada yada yada</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WRhSrFiXLlEhgBaSve0blAIvzkb42qJOhk55BeMhH-eHTDqjBrf13bUm0qwoEcrDG5xQK5cxZd9jTvz4t7Yu8xMAKqfEffMEO4CnnL0y8Dlqe4_rqqnzjns4v-1SdZB6_NHDx2L7uJTo/s1600-h/Canada2009_1008_113med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1WRhSrFiXLlEhgBaSve0blAIvzkb42qJOhk55BeMhH-eHTDqjBrf13bUm0qwoEcrDG5xQK5cxZd9jTvz4t7Yu8xMAKqfEffMEO4CnnL0y8Dlqe4_rqqnzjns4v-1SdZB6_NHDx2L7uJTo/s320/Canada2009_1008_113med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393199241911074674" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFheyH3Dmr_h62sGHS29HzCXTvSNYs8FzvDGecJZubAqFvC-YppSH0ghg_v7iplFd6k7P0n9rZgvf9Hiw4EZqYV112FVAHY_JpAKWS4kAhxrEE7gZ4cHnbID9EYmq2xTSLHuVsKFqt-PpS/s1600-h/Canada2009_1011_103md.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFheyH3Dmr_h62sGHS29HzCXTvSNYs8FzvDGecJZubAqFvC-YppSH0ghg_v7iplFd6k7P0n9rZgvf9Hiw4EZqYV112FVAHY_JpAKWS4kAhxrEE7gZ4cHnbID9EYmq2xTSLHuVsKFqt-PpS/s320/Canada2009_1011_103md.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393208562572291810" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqwoVl-w-rhZw6Av5GT5zvm_WdZqys5ZuefwssePafy8WacJgHmJzyHHy0vqKKRm_Dju82xLoqWN8EZXTkvl3S4NKxP_sqiyaVBDRNw6Eocsx7HJFniRToxhV_NOE2p9wJ09lPCz1R5o9/s1600-h/Canada2009_1011_090med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqwoVl-w-rhZw6Av5GT5zvm_WdZqys5ZuefwssePafy8WacJgHmJzyHHy0vqKKRm_Dju82xLoqWN8EZXTkvl3S4NKxP_sqiyaVBDRNw6Eocsx7HJFniRToxhV_NOE2p9wJ09lPCz1R5o9/s320/Canada2009_1011_090med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393208555257257394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Now after these wonderful meals with the hospitality of friends old and new, we’ve tried to pay it forward by giving a good long ride (700 km) to a young hitchhiker. But since we've since ditched the hitch-hiker (literally I think he is spending the night in a ditch) I'm feeling somewhat guilty being warm in a lodge while he is under a tree somewhere. and it's snowing.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">So yes, unhinged is a good word. </span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >a hard frost or snow every morning now</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2DjtLPctIpCHRgiGcjuQDtPEd67oNq3lIpoSCktt_OPS_CdkAUlIRe2tv9pft7vPhFOSCIXbY6GkxPkmMqmxySSS5C4iDBTxiGRrN9I3_fOlQtjQ8f6aJT5RNDdsBG-8iQuAHQSMIdxba/s1600-h/Canada2009_1012_074med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2DjtLPctIpCHRgiGcjuQDtPEd67oNq3lIpoSCktt_OPS_CdkAUlIRe2tv9pft7vPhFOSCIXbY6GkxPkmMqmxySSS5C4iDBTxiGRrN9I3_fOlQtjQ8f6aJT5RNDdsBG-8iQuAHQSMIdxba/s320/Canada2009_1012_074med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200161397132546" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicr6j-oI6Insa1qYWQuacxMVHsdynnYoHUzcXGR3Lz7CpYGkhPGZRnviagSpHSgADL9yRuKajn63nOnhelLLq-ECfDK4APs8a4OCKsaqeMOo4VGjgGcvT3DzBLxIiNFz7XoTNQGqOKRo9E/s1600-h/Canada2009_1012_144med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicr6j-oI6Insa1qYWQuacxMVHsdynnYoHUzcXGR3Lz7CpYGkhPGZRnviagSpHSgADL9yRuKajn63nOnhelLLq-ECfDK4APs8a4OCKsaqeMOo4VGjgGcvT3DzBLxIiNFz7XoTNQGqOKRo9E/s320/Canada2009_1012_144med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200149713145506" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >not house-proud</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNc46u8olD1fxk91GG-9AMWrS_y9C4_Lt92Yc268uTIbszwauZu_Xx_Sl_BZh6KGooVcjIPrbgDzVdlWuwGmnG3yOg0NaXTacEVISg16cRjaQhfYNmvZTI8rIWVxDMfhcw0VV3SX4ypJRH/s1600-h/Canada2009_1009_161med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNc46u8olD1fxk91GG-9AMWrS_y9C4_Lt92Yc268uTIbszwauZu_Xx_Sl_BZh6KGooVcjIPrbgDzVdlWuwGmnG3yOg0NaXTacEVISg16cRjaQhfYNmvZTI8rIWVxDMfhcw0VV3SX4ypJRH/s320/Canada2009_1009_161med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393200580436520306" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-80864160813140574092009-10-04T14:09:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:19:11.071-08:00Newfoundland and Labrador - Whinging from the edge of the world<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DJ_X6mPtfxLhDeHteC_cHQEI6u0ZwHlzYfp6FVKgdeJm1RgadoxfEF5j1GG-7HaLcpH_bja7yNZCvwnjjx-9DjqeZ3C8B1aEsHoYhpo7MKVEiV1vyCEYConBKewp2n1NtJbD-iNAfLVD/s1600-h/Canada2009_0928_206med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DJ_X6mPtfxLhDeHteC_cHQEI6u0ZwHlzYfp6FVKgdeJm1RgadoxfEF5j1GG-7HaLcpH_bja7yNZCvwnjjx-9DjqeZ3C8B1aEsHoYhpo7MKVEiV1vyCEYConBKewp2n1NtJbD-iNAfLVD/s320/Canada2009_0928_206med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388862786810176450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe79_-mCqCnF7YqKvNe0FPVVhdlAP15CgQlRYmP0EemV9DEsP0d3UpxfauXLQak-z-PlvcfyWTg29OpJxMF3cWvz9RMRZMSbbskkxz9umOcl6pc5-KN6EPUGgYUE2rHq9pNOLM_y7Tc9lF/s1600-h/Canada2009_0920_095med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe79_-mCqCnF7YqKvNe0FPVVhdlAP15CgQlRYmP0EemV9DEsP0d3UpxfauXLQak-z-PlvcfyWTg29OpJxMF3cWvz9RMRZMSbbskkxz9umOcl6pc5-KN6EPUGgYUE2rHq9pNOLM_y7Tc9lF/s320/Canada2009_0920_095med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388857706948537650" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'd thought we'd reached our furthest point at the end of the world when we visited L'anse Aux Meadows in Northern Newfoundland. However, now that we are again headed north and east in Labrador, I can't yet say we've begun the journey home. I can't complain, or at least that's what Newfoundlanders say, so instead they write songs. The songs they write have an upbeat tune, depressing lyrics and usually involve a lot of drinking. In that vein I think I need to do a bit of cathartic sea shanty bitching:<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Wellllll IIIIII'se </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">sick o'de road</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">and sick o'd' van</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">and oh me lord help me </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm sick o'd' man...</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">no wait that's not what I meant. Let's try again:</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Well me name's Lori</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">and I live on the road</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'se happy and healthy</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">'Til I smelled like a toad.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">All me possessions is mildewy grey</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">and me passion for trav'lin' is slippin' away...</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">or maybe:</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">It's another frickin' night without no heat,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">another frickin' day out on the peat,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">another frickin' mile of freakin' gloom,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">but what I'm sick o'frickin' most,</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">is "Scuze me" ballet in a 4 foot room</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">You get the idea. Can you tell I'm ready to come home?<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Roughing it more than I am:</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLl2gtJBORoTCE8iAimRNWcmVZ6rT8WcQZKRwC4NJotppABVByyr-zF2Mb2l2u60shT4jP8tlZLz9ROAKTNi0uiiLhVrzmkq8EDzqEztkzXkXUK-zjoYRRzjlIoFViSrcNrInSgQbIRvP/s1600-h/Canada2009_0927_007med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLl2gtJBORoTCE8iAimRNWcmVZ6rT8WcQZKRwC4NJotppABVByyr-zF2Mb2l2u60shT4jP8tlZLz9ROAKTNi0uiiLhVrzmkq8EDzqEztkzXkXUK-zjoYRRzjlIoFViSrcNrInSgQbIRvP/s320/Canada2009_0927_007med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388860501340725666" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Actually I don't smell like a toad, but something fungal is growing on my back and considering the environment I could be breaking out in something larger. I'm hoping for chanterelles.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYQ5j5OmXUcHOFkUQ5mVaU36pcaHIQadIqeOgZWR0Iy5HEK2uy6URCwz9PDDe9HqZT-ICn-QgdxgBr7t5y4WBbZinvx20fszbBrWxSci4PslSK_Y9muTydU-tz8VZrxvdXo1725PDDvUQ/s1600-h/Canada2009_0926_193med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 92px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYQ5j5OmXUcHOFkUQ5mVaU36pcaHIQadIqeOgZWR0Iy5HEK2uy6URCwz9PDDe9HqZT-ICn-QgdxgBr7t5y4WBbZinvx20fszbBrWxSci4PslSK_Y9muTydU-tz8VZrxvdXo1725PDDvUQ/s320/Canada2009_0926_193med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388860468914214274" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" ><br /></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" >Gros Morne (literally = "majorly gloomy")</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_QCs8POlyyDZFV4o5qP5fTExKrNhjT7R6WOVvuTasBsOcXYz6xzs1e9bz2bMzS-FBZuFEUxRhpSDkkqe7ASavgDK7JhT-br_JiVbCCCslwJRT5h9UcFbNVipGHqq5y3x03DZswIaO6E5E/s1600-h/Canada2009_0924_221med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_QCs8POlyyDZFV4o5qP5fTExKrNhjT7R6WOVvuTasBsOcXYz6xzs1e9bz2bMzS-FBZuFEUxRhpSDkkqe7ASavgDK7JhT-br_JiVbCCCslwJRT5h9UcFbNVipGHqq5y3x03DZswIaO6E5E/s320/Canada2009_0924_221med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388857744193805346" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYh42_AaeAIWEXJSj18EM3fs9rHHCkDwmWhO4I0Db2OVo4r5ttinvnYANpJ_dEfuKOCrS8yA8nh5csiwR7TcgIGgfKMDG4JY32WL9vlM0My9NZ0RIdfxqF_aHia4J1zoStdOxV1CQMb06_/s1600-h/Canada2009_0923_128med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYh42_AaeAIWEXJSj18EM3fs9rHHCkDwmWhO4I0Db2OVo4r5ttinvnYANpJ_dEfuKOCrS8yA8nh5csiwR7TcgIGgfKMDG4JY32WL9vlM0My9NZ0RIdfxqF_aHia4J1zoStdOxV1CQMb06_/s320/Canada2009_0923_128med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388857737904442114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm pretty much upside down right now.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />I started calling Jack, "Melove."<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family:verdana;">Mr. Carrot meets Ms. Carrot</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXydiaNoFdkSnJjBTqWJ2dlfe3ClJbQqTmkgGB7MZxeQr3lwaERunOah-HlfboJhWj7CK2T_3dZbMAKSWagNsLYKQgdLFDyP0ORFu80QeizvnlWVZk0oHvZgoYN8XtV_AZ3o0JBKeN4zk/s1600-h/Canada2009_0920_087med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaXydiaNoFdkSnJjBTqWJ2dlfe3ClJbQqTmkgGB7MZxeQr3lwaERunOah-HlfboJhWj7CK2T_3dZbMAKSWagNsLYKQgdLFDyP0ORFu80QeizvnlWVZk0oHvZgoYN8XtV_AZ3o0JBKeN4zk/s320/Canada2009_0920_087med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388857722196603474" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm eating caribou and actually sorry that I didn't buy the mooseburgers from that really drunken guy in Trout River who just wanted us to come over and get stoned. I didn't go. But I even congratulated a hunter on her killing of a big bull moose. My vegetarian ways don't make much sense here. Not that anything makes a lot of sense here.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Seal Meat anyone? Mooseburgers?</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-g7Xu9ke-lpGwqeN0EokbQClWWnkYI44H6Gv-uiJC5cwjf0yNyAAggDVGGskb7m6lp58RCifS1Qd7I9lmyegbt8IW5j551tgP3oWKdtxMTmcpOTM_HURXUXnV20NYZUclDIStp5hndTq/s1600-h/Canada2009_0925_001med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-g7Xu9ke-lpGwqeN0EokbQClWWnkYI44H6Gv-uiJC5cwjf0yNyAAggDVGGskb7m6lp58RCifS1Qd7I9lmyegbt8IW5j551tgP3oWKdtxMTmcpOTM_HURXUXnV20NYZUclDIStp5hndTq/s320/Canada2009_0925_001med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388862753754796898" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">It appears that the moose on the island have done some pretty serious damage to the balsam fir forests. The moose are not indigenous and when their populations were small the wolves helped keep them in check. Now there's no more wolves, and people have come to rely on getting a moose each season so there is no appetite to cull the moose populations. Now the indigenous populations of arctic hare and caribou are so stressed that re-introducing wolves (to an extent that would help with the moose) would only stress their populations further. No easy answers, but to have a moose burger periodically.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26IvXxONji2m-QBBJv1bVroKGKi2thafsBg1UjJ3UXLBrb2XZtEkBpBjtbqU6pySp94onpCrxXs5nHBPOFihPikG7zvcHXbDZIbL0NqWuD3uUBTPMF8yzpJtpyQk5jKenRwLirbtfiyCh/s1600-h/Canada2009_0924_025med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26IvXxONji2m-QBBJv1bVroKGKi2thafsBg1UjJ3UXLBrb2XZtEkBpBjtbqU6pySp94onpCrxXs5nHBPOFihPikG7zvcHXbDZIbL0NqWuD3uUBTPMF8yzpJtpyQk5jKenRwLirbtfiyCh/s320/Canada2009_0924_025med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388860487856178674" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVHNUJCoRoiJvcEHzFm5etuW3KlnXaK0LjSrNnUD-0f_hNuQSsPyUHzYiTv8MPrI4TjXPOprmlIdemTniMQDd13LoWUmZvGv0NMNQqWBVcH_1pQjWwCCs1_jY245NkQJ9rZ2K05DKAUKp/s1600-h/Canada2009_0924_093med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 154px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVHNUJCoRoiJvcEHzFm5etuW3KlnXaK0LjSrNnUD-0f_hNuQSsPyUHzYiTv8MPrI4TjXPOprmlIdemTniMQDd13LoWUmZvGv0NMNQqWBVcH_1pQjWwCCs1_jY245NkQJ9rZ2K05DKAUKp/s320/Canada2009_0924_093med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388860493034488946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />I'm not really missing my stuff at home as much as I thought I might, just missing warmth and having 4 walls around me. In Newfoundland, the attitudes about property are more flexible than my Victoria Victorian ways. Property lines are not clearly defined and roads become driveways and vice versa without any warning. I've become accustomed to walking across what turns out to be someone's backyard, and when I've been approached, instead of a gruff warning that I expect, I get a warm hello.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0KnJbEdO8tTDoHAmiRmFy60SUaHgtEZEmbIO0BZV7lmWbLMclxGRpb-21-LzVm3-UUWg27e9lH21FsykD5lsEILhz9Uec1lmCwSeeefM8BMgheUcuhjrgEN0GtKoR6B12gh03ZJynvX5/s1600-h/Canada2009_0929_035med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0KnJbEdO8tTDoHAmiRmFy60SUaHgtEZEmbIO0BZV7lmWbLMclxGRpb-21-LzVm3-UUWg27e9lH21FsykD5lsEILhz9Uec1lmCwSeeefM8BMgheUcuhjrgEN0GtKoR6B12gh03ZJynvX5/s320/Canada2009_0929_035med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388862780476778530" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />If there are berries around people pick them, it doesn't matter where they might be. Jack and I have taken to carrying paper bags in our jackets, since most hikes turn into berry picking epics.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Now imagine a whole hillside of this:</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclctOJH6wo9bQ0K_u-gUazeq7fYJaVvJHAxk3WAZE1JkCMaMFbYT1PtbXs7cZMAH5gC6hyqsAICVKIp4MLRqTvXRjObbjceEG6kKTct8trd21SfvnpMsAJGeOve2ARP-ONTdTuYZLSBF5/s1600-h/Canada2009_0920_011med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclctOJH6wo9bQ0K_u-gUazeq7fYJaVvJHAxk3WAZE1JkCMaMFbYT1PtbXs7cZMAH5gC6hyqsAICVKIp4MLRqTvXRjObbjceEG6kKTct8trd21SfvnpMsAJGeOve2ARP-ONTdTuYZLSBF5/s320/Canada2009_0920_011med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388862761165200274" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Then there is the Newfoundland front door. If there is a front door in a house, and there typically is, there is no way to get to it from the outside. Often the door will open out to a 4 foot or higher drop-off onto the front yard. People say they are built that way because that's what's on the house plans, but the exterior finishing is unnecessary and expensive. People only come to the back door, and that enters onto the kitchen. The protocol is: knock once, then enter and call hello. On Fogo Island, people explained that it's usually too cold to wait outdoors, so it's only practical to enter the house. No one ever locks the doors, even when not home. However, it is impolite to enter further without an invitation.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">I hope they don't sleepwalk:</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pi-yr6z_I5fj_B1fGDZ8F2XkWODkn-877D9nZyQEIwUIMcCRoIgIbaipeD-y2TU8e9CoP3JaJ3wZ4WUVYpgoH8Q1mL3wsKcnHrBH-IAYKTEPO5vDcb07NGBmxibh0V3AeY698NCcgSbN/s1600-h/Canada2009_0919_178med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pi-yr6z_I5fj_B1fGDZ8F2XkWODkn-877D9nZyQEIwUIMcCRoIgIbaipeD-y2TU8e9CoP3JaJ3wZ4WUVYpgoH8Q1mL3wsKcnHrBH-IAYKTEPO5vDcb07NGBmxibh0V3AeY698NCcgSbN/s320/Canada2009_0919_178med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388857718881424770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I know that my homesickness is also upside down, because I know I'll be homesick for Newfoundland when I leave. I hope to import some Newfoundland protocol when I get home. I'll plant some berry bushes on the front boulevard, and please don't lock your back door. </span> </span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKXHY4Ojf5eIgQK2ncJGf-ac2eKIscbGiyCAYJgVNvdBwYTIdbOBQmjDBl5JIf046BnhZQGOieq5-l_Zs_XoVS47qi4EOqM0zAdJw3RLmHgR45LYfs3f6os9LOtn1MIXR0iQRZvkKpa2CH/s1600-h/Canada2009_0923_042medb.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKXHY4Ojf5eIgQK2ncJGf-ac2eKIscbGiyCAYJgVNvdBwYTIdbOBQmjDBl5JIf046BnhZQGOieq5-l_Zs_XoVS47qi4EOqM0zAdJw3RLmHgR45LYfs3f6os9LOtn1MIXR0iQRZvkKpa2CH/s320/Canada2009_0923_042medb.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388860478025320002" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >not everyone makes it home</span><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazCvxZWjmlNjRypfGQyJi-G7pb6ZCb79IIWMqQmNjo1PGnuOKX9cXIziiMcszySSAqyz-OlADP_UqkYgQYdIGDnG-2ragWz4nbz-WyvY32pBi1wnprxeAWzVkfM_lS_eYsws7h0NQfVkr/s1600-h/Canada2009_0924_197medb.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiazCvxZWjmlNjRypfGQyJi-G7pb6ZCb79IIWMqQmNjo1PGnuOKX9cXIziiMcszySSAqyz-OlADP_UqkYgQYdIGDnG-2ragWz4nbz-WyvY32pBi1wnprxeAWzVkfM_lS_eYsws7h0NQfVkr/s320/Canada2009_0924_197medb.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388862771918834770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9R9iARs6O_VGg1anjvEkeqFGM5DW6H7gVfYZQsYl_iVrqNUypI27wto5MbuP3XECNIxG-BWyHPq5V1iDLrloPZwPzyd1H3nxOEmbRv2Gbdxf5VZ8YXIoTPi1uVtehKl78fGLOe-KFDpSV/s1600-h/Canada2009_0924_184med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9R9iARs6O_VGg1anjvEkeqFGM5DW6H7gVfYZQsYl_iVrqNUypI27wto5MbuP3XECNIxG-BWyHPq5V1iDLrloPZwPzyd1H3nxOEmbRv2Gbdxf5VZ8YXIoTPi1uVtehKl78fGLOe-KFDpSV/s320/Canada2009_0924_184med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388867095042420002" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;">self-portrait after a month of no yoga</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyI2XvZSQWPHYIejTEHTHqVRM_3FteGq_80t8z4UCJlNujYB012M-I1Xl1sYJ6IRvS00gFkv1e1teUwIMMtYUaf6NsEbGCmNZFggvT2aPfbC-GTRU6mo6mn23JjlOez3Jshoz3U8g9unJ/s1600-h/Canada2009_0926_139med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOyI2XvZSQWPHYIejTEHTHqVRM_3FteGq_80t8z4UCJlNujYB012M-I1Xl1sYJ6IRvS00gFkv1e1teUwIMMtYUaf6NsEbGCmNZFggvT2aPfbC-GTRU6mo6mn23JjlOez3Jshoz3U8g9unJ/s320/Canada2009_0926_139med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388867090237383378" border="0" /></a></div></div>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-71374188787531530112009-09-19T14:54:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:19:11.072-08:00Newfoundland Part 2 - Where d'you belong?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfjHrRoazbwfqwYpN-9UuCHiBj-ZfDpvr1mNfraoHhUuRoEaUFHgyVKpmkqgxAuzvaKS-vOXxRrMzXLdK9lU9EixZM1ZEM9xnj0d5Ej5MqnGCHqzx2fvLcb0oVzhTsVTRNF6GIePAzLHS/s1600-h/Canada2009_0916_032med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfjHrRoazbwfqwYpN-9UuCHiBj-ZfDpvr1mNfraoHhUuRoEaUFHgyVKpmkqgxAuzvaKS-vOXxRrMzXLdK9lU9EixZM1ZEM9xnj0d5Ej5MqnGCHqzx2fvLcb0oVzhTsVTRNF6GIePAzLHS/s320/Canada2009_0916_032med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383304180471756418" border="0" /></a><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PersonName"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceName"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceType"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype style="font-family: verdana;" namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" >All across <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state> we've been asked, "S'where you visiting from?" Here, as in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Quebec</st1:place></st1:state>, it's obvious at a glance that we are not from here. So when a man asked me a question that I couldn't decipher, it took a few tries to get beyond the accent and discover he had asked, "Where do you belong?"</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQyd8dQb3p7OoAkZnwnlEMtXIQP-1TSUBbtJgUX5ZARAfoXy-HiC-AZR0hURmeAfg7RA2r6p4UV___C_Mt0moMh5mcnIJKRMJ1-oPYPQtjFH9dhWJ_XRbaYLEeffH4H5Wm5xKsl0ztcRu/s1600-h/Canada2009_0912_335med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQyd8dQb3p7OoAkZnwnlEMtXIQP-1TSUBbtJgUX5ZARAfoXy-HiC-AZR0hURmeAfg7RA2r6p4UV___C_Mt0moMh5mcnIJKRMJ1-oPYPQtjFH9dhWJ_XRbaYLEeffH4H5Wm5xKsl0ztcRu/s320/Canada2009_0912_335med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383305874716549442" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >It's just another way of saying "where are you from?" but the implications are different. Implied, obviously, is that I don't belong here, and by extension, he does. "Where do you belong" is a good question.<span style=""> </span>I’ve been reading a book called, 'Leaving Newfoundland' that discusses the out-migration that is happening, and that has always happened, here in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state>. The thesis of the book is that settling here has always brought with it the need to go 'Away' in order to make a living. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBuw2c2MyVXn5rTgCT8L5cxE2xnmcF4MVHVq7Vl6LWQW19aY-Q_LNNFNTGqqTg2LAMVYHPWOatFgkr24xOJDaWEG5Nw7FKrYPDUc85ATRbJ2dH99VqSzaoZtKd3QWcluGxxfF-WZkfbAE/s1600-h/Canada2009_0919_055med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBuw2c2MyVXn5rTgCT8L5cxE2xnmcF4MVHVq7Vl6LWQW19aY-Q_LNNFNTGqqTg2LAMVYHPWOatFgkr24xOJDaWEG5Nw7FKrYPDUc85ATRbJ2dH99VqSzaoZtKd3QWcluGxxfF-WZkfbAE/s320/Canada2009_0919_055med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383303419923525010" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >Ironically, for a population that has been so migratory and readily pulled Away for income, the people are more rooted to this place than anywhere else we’ve been in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Canada</st1:place></st1:country-region>. The word 'Away' in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state> needs to be capitalized, since the notion of being away has become a place in itself.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span>In <st1:state st="on">Alaska</st1:state>, anywhere outside of <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Alaska</st1:place></st1:state> is called, 'Outside.' In <st1:state st="on">Newfoundland</st1:state>, anywhere outside of <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state> is 'Away.' Both indicate that there is a place to return, and that there is a home waiting for that return. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzXm5P-RilVSJcBDJ-KDxSRV0SJ9tGAUiV4jH2GYwcvLrMKYGowupZwfKVJXnGGAirjfY6rmlE67yHNksNy7yN-GjGHDRyE32ZJlWs3YzD_BOrYhLCM5YV_vVZMONsbyuS2Y4o_aAcIGw/s1600-h/Canada2009_0919_167med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzXm5P-RilVSJcBDJ-KDxSRV0SJ9tGAUiV4jH2GYwcvLrMKYGowupZwfKVJXnGGAirjfY6rmlE67yHNksNy7yN-GjGHDRyE32ZJlWs3YzD_BOrYhLCM5YV_vVZMONsbyuS2Y4o_aAcIGw/s320/Canada2009_0919_167med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383303443200703746" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >We are now in the town of <st1:city st="on">Tilting</st1:city> on <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Fogo</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Island</st1:placetype></st1:place>. It is a place with Irish roots. VERY Irish roots. I had first thought my eyes were tricking me when I saw the flags flying.<span style=""> </span>The <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state> flag (republic of, not official provincial) is vertical stripes of green, white and pink. Here the flags were green, white and orange. Later, I learned this is the flag of <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Ireland</st1:country-region></st1:place>. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFrIwgOY6WnOIKUucmLfgvyjjyNOL8ORWvFD0F0Ve0pBmWCQdT7_9ztTLgqyHSegCUZ5zfckxLueqMu0kPZ3xR2bdIxVPrF3D6htGrYx0Lii7Aflj6d-brqEiRqkanlBM0P_JuWd8k-D7/s1600-h/Canada2009_0914_035med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFrIwgOY6WnOIKUucmLfgvyjjyNOL8ORWvFD0F0Ve0pBmWCQdT7_9ztTLgqyHSegCUZ5zfckxLueqMu0kPZ3xR2bdIxVPrF3D6htGrYx0Lii7Aflj6d-brqEiRqkanlBM0P_JuWd8k-D7/s320/Canada2009_0914_035med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383302337592508562" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Our timing was good since we lucked onto the Tilting Feile. This Feile is a weekend of workshops and celebration that has included bringing over people from <st1:country-region st="on">Ireland</st1:country-region> and sending locals to <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ireland</st1:place></st1:country-region>. They have even set up a local radio station in the Church Hall for 5 days, and are encouraging the locals to come in and sing, read poetry or share stories.<span style=""> </span>I'm sitting in the church hall now. It's warmer than the van, especially as the rain pelts down and the wind comes in off the ocean.<span style=""> </span>It smells better too, as yeasty and chowdery smells float in from the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >I am listening to the rookie DJ read an email from a Newfoundlander who now resides in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Florida</st1:place></st1:state>.<span style=""> </span>A part of the email reads, of course, “but Tilting will always be my home.”</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK7iDqUkB4j3ogS9yMBZlqZEj-irsjhKuOTNJCJToAwMRrCIIRtB-ZZU0jfru6qHHUo88guhpsS-3SA-8F3_MwH6U542QyV7ZFkGinM-haPEVlcE6NrnOdE8McdUzUt4JvfVHeJwHyEOxY/s1600-h/Canada2009_0916_057med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK7iDqUkB4j3ogS9yMBZlqZEj-irsjhKuOTNJCJToAwMRrCIIRtB-ZZU0jfru6qHHUo88guhpsS-3SA-8F3_MwH6U542QyV7ZFkGinM-haPEVlcE6NrnOdE8McdUzUt4JvfVHeJwHyEOxY/s320/Canada2009_0916_057med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383304176048492690" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;"><span style=";font-family:";" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">So I am left asking myself, where do I belong? I belong here in </span><st1:state style="font-family: verdana;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-family:verdana;"> for now. I belong in the van, such as it is. In the long term I believe I belong in </span><st1:state style="font-family: verdana;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Victoria</st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-family:verdana;">, and definitely with </span><st1:personname style="font-family: verdana;" st="on">Jack</st1:personname><span style="font-family:verdana;">. But I was born in </span><st1:state style="font-family: verdana;" st="on">Virginia</st1:state><span style="font-family:verdana;">, grew up in </span><st1:state style="font-family: verdana;" st="on">Colorado</st1:state><span style="font-family:verdana;">, moved to </span><st1:city style="font-family: verdana;" st="on">Vancouver</st1:city> and then to <st1:place style="font-family: verdana;" st="on">Vancouver Island</st1:place><span style="font-family:verdana;">. Most of the people I know in Victoria are from somewhere else. I have a dual citizenship which implies my ambivalence about where I belong, and leaves open my choices of where I might live in the future. It even leaves open the idea that someday I might find myself living in </span><st1:state style="font-family: verdana;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Newfoundland</st1:place></st1:state><span style="font-family:verdana;">.<br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsfEuuRVtXe7ICOIe2TUO7fD9UerrZ1moxvh3R8GQs9H3v3HytkhUeLKxC_fs1Vn5strgcWuD5yVN26dbZmHmSr35sVFA7e4c4inKZs5caNiC5nXeOdPGQs2OHcGqVHCM1pqg-MqTn5g_/s1600-h/Canada2009_0916_259med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsfEuuRVtXe7ICOIe2TUO7fD9UerrZ1moxvh3R8GQs9H3v3HytkhUeLKxC_fs1Vn5strgcWuD5yVN26dbZmHmSr35sVFA7e4c4inKZs5caNiC5nXeOdPGQs2OHcGqVHCM1pqg-MqTn5g_/s320/Canada2009_0916_259med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383304159279965778" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqu4Kmr4-xowKCd9hEDdEjN_gk5-5sQ-wue2vHr6tD6-d4yYaUUv9t4e4sR7HBsTWhjgQEVeXaND5e6CZqvLvsCSKBKH5QeG4ibb0HsyQP0gyyQj93zhMxGaDslCVp94FevQcPsVHsJBlS/s1600-h/Canada2009_0916_022med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqu4Kmr4-xowKCd9hEDdEjN_gk5-5sQ-wue2vHr6tD6-d4yYaUUv9t4e4sR7HBsTWhjgQEVeXaND5e6CZqvLvsCSKBKH5QeG4ibb0HsyQP0gyyQj93zhMxGaDslCVp94FevQcPsVHsJBlS/s320/Canada2009_0916_022med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383304169790027778" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Martin Foley - dries fish for the winter:</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQjsZE8R-lQn7ZQy-Zb8j59lDJOb6eJLMjS3xbEdxMcV6s1JIij4_o-S84KAnfW5gUn2uFDrPrgAPxmY6colMRhCp4mCdvS709nyfXTDGAf6zQcvnO-vNAN4BpCf98s4LW3gkT4tGr4BU/s1600-h/Canada2009_0917_146med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPQjsZE8R-lQn7ZQy-Zb8j59lDJOb6eJLMjS3xbEdxMcV6s1JIij4_o-S84KAnfW5gUn2uFDrPrgAPxmY6colMRhCp4mCdvS709nyfXTDGAf6zQcvnO-vNAN4BpCf98s4LW3gkT4tGr4BU/s320/Canada2009_0917_146med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383303464274971426" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Bonavista Peninsula</span></span>:<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChJ9LsVgIUtVZDSZ38abnkwd7scyd7CS-6RCHn9TcJjVzS8ZUg0ARZAjfqc0DMPHXVcJeN1XCHhx6kdoqwTrQz3m2yibKzGT5RRhv9hR5DJ_3Ldy01zZUFpLybVJpdsuzTZ6tUhZ1lslb/s1600-h/Canada2009_0912_365med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChJ9LsVgIUtVZDSZ38abnkwd7scyd7CS-6RCHn9TcJjVzS8ZUg0ARZAjfqc0DMPHXVcJeN1XCHhx6kdoqwTrQz3m2yibKzGT5RRhv9hR5DJ_3Ldy01zZUFpLybVJpdsuzTZ6tUhZ1lslb/s320/Canada2009_0912_365med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383302325241156002" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Tilting</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >- sea on all sides</span></span>:<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsI5bAuOM9zse5XNZUS36vNzT28JZkhx79mcLYFf2gFxewg-2bPvnMZbbZZNiiqAvhS0bfffnu9FMa29Kcg7c9D9VL4sLd9JKfgdMxnoJPaZYmx-gqEE68D2K4MWDhneGCnjzOeKn_Vi0/s1600-h/Canada2009_0916_315med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsI5bAuOM9zse5XNZUS36vNzT28JZkhx79mcLYFf2gFxewg-2bPvnMZbbZZNiiqAvhS0bfffnu9FMa29Kcg7c9D9VL4sLd9JKfgdMxnoJPaZYmx-gqEE68D2K4MWDhneGCnjzOeKn_Vi0/s320/Canada2009_0916_315med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383303454276610658" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >The only mean Newfoundlander we've met:</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeuPOMsYCHijn5O0_FqHGW71QERTXVCdP5e6DxZnezNlUPO1mWqbX9Y-bmbisUHakKokwgYBywn7s0BjhGOqVmUPrOcivBMg-brFXjemIRD6rqRXJTiq-_6t1PN-bShe8BPmlJuCe-ua35/s1600-h/Canada2009_0919_138med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeuPOMsYCHijn5O0_FqHGW71QERTXVCdP5e6DxZnezNlUPO1mWqbX9Y-bmbisUHakKokwgYBywn7s0BjhGOqVmUPrOcivBMg-brFXjemIRD6rqRXJTiq-_6t1PN-bShe8BPmlJuCe-ua35/s320/Canada2009_0919_138med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383303433011588018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Didn't the bears used to do this in Yellowstone?</span></span>:<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 6pt; text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ifnerpL77jgOWBYU7K-O4DzABPjlkVvadtQS2tITYsXcr58i8IydnURz-yQAexxjZEn3KJcqcQMStYWU0y3g0-h5fEhQphAb8b3l41VlF6vKoqdk7vL6WpsGjSzy2GClXGuFcApKDFce/s1600-h/Canada2009_0913_028med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ifnerpL77jgOWBYU7K-O4DzABPjlkVvadtQS2tITYsXcr58i8IydnURz-yQAexxjZEn3KJcqcQMStYWU0y3g0-h5fEhQphAb8b3l41VlF6vKoqdk7vL6WpsGjSzy2GClXGuFcApKDFce/s320/Canada2009_0913_028med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383302333076605234" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozxTOV_vdkmXlZaCad9OCS25_gM950hPrR3ixIOrUnRcyaMJIlnyZCGmAt7zRf77wmWxB2ZRIGZR_2sLJyv5xBQOujC8OdinENbokXlHERhDwzrhkBBDY4fM3AHVVMW20zu4AIfoS0ptA/s1600-h/Canada2009_0912_188med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozxTOV_vdkmXlZaCad9OCS25_gM950hPrR3ixIOrUnRcyaMJIlnyZCGmAt7zRf77wmWxB2ZRIGZR_2sLJyv5xBQOujC8OdinENbokXlHERhDwzrhkBBDY4fM3AHVVMW20zu4AIfoS0ptA/s320/Canada2009_0912_188med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383302313331937938" border="0" /></a></p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-26016908083150296052009-09-10T06:48:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:19:11.073-08:00Newfoundland - the Friendly Province<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcF70cuiTKZxm2VbyvaarbXNtgUI5kPIF0lv5Mu2kccN0mEIMDJuvbZPW63EfK0K2gHQIZ84LddjlimuO0KA0QLqIYrAvzm5Ib_XaOEeNsgualvAabt41QtpSAuVJeRZZvi0aMdEc57QLR/s1600-h/Canada2009_0908_217med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcF70cuiTKZxm2VbyvaarbXNtgUI5kPIF0lv5Mu2kccN0mEIMDJuvbZPW63EfK0K2gHQIZ84LddjlimuO0KA0QLqIYrAvzm5Ib_XaOEeNsgualvAabt41QtpSAuVJeRZZvi0aMdEc57QLR/s320/Canada2009_0908_217med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838712840832546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdiyam2p8Qa1a2QP9uECCZwGe5B_Krj9UGJY0fmjOVeXzsY5aqS3FzY1Iuapl4wA4L8ZCPoxjs1FKhf2VeKj2OJNgqI5DwYpNMXYr2UhUTVRtT9QzwJ0PAsosdgwM_AjjvsiMD0TYXouBY/s1600-h/Canada2009_0908_250md.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdiyam2p8Qa1a2QP9uECCZwGe5B_Krj9UGJY0fmjOVeXzsY5aqS3FzY1Iuapl4wA4L8ZCPoxjs1FKhf2VeKj2OJNgqI5DwYpNMXYr2UhUTVRtT9QzwJ0PAsosdgwM_AjjvsiMD0TYXouBY/s320/Canada2009_0908_250md.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838704596092050" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">A benefit from our car troubles upon entering Newfoundland was that we had immediate contact with local people who are not engaged in the tourism industry. The impression has been that uniformly, everywhere, people have been ridiculously good-natured, helpful and kind to us. "Whar ya fromme?" starts many a conversation. Now everywhere in Canada people have been good to us, but Newfoundland seems to take it to a different level. It's almost weird and takes some getting used to. It almost feels like we are in some kind of 'Truman Show' where someone is following us around and putting people in our path to show us around. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsHTu4_L-1Tx2fH5seRZyZ9GCcEEsOs4M_r0lt2_lEjdONIODCEmqWNnD4x1qr8r_WH-OhNu_iym-dn88vbfc9UTfCGbCfOnWx6Xf_sUM4GuWVK_9I02ArUw6kZ8a-8WOi0UlXVjKRO9K/s1600-h/Canada2009_0908_038med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTsHTu4_L-1Tx2fH5seRZyZ9GCcEEsOs4M_r0lt2_lEjdONIODCEmqWNnD4x1qr8r_WH-OhNu_iym-dn88vbfc9UTfCGbCfOnWx6Xf_sUM4GuWVK_9I02ArUw6kZ8a-8WOi0UlXVjKRO9K/s400/Canada2009_0908_038med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379841281082447010" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Last night, we arrived at a tourist information centre too late. We were standing in the parking lot looking lonely and lost for 15-20 seconds before a man got out of his car and announced, "You need information now do ya? I know everything there is ta know about dis place." (I'm sorry I can't type the combination Newfoundland & Irish accent) His name was Michael O'Riley and he told us the best outfit to take us whale-watching (O-Briens - alas, no whales), and where we could camp for the night. "Ya know about campin' in Newfoundland don'tcha? Ya don't pay for the campin' in Newfoundland." He first told us, then drove us to a good camping spot where, "the cops'll look after ya and make sure nobody hassles ya." Yes, the cops in Newfoundland will look after you if you are illegally camped somewhere and make sure no yahoos ruin your tranquil evening. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /><br />I had expressed concern that I hadn't had a shower for several days and was looking forward to one. Michael O'Riley just said, "Well there's the pond right there, you can just jump right on in no one will stop ya." Jack said something sarcastic about the ice forming around the edges, and Michael O'Riley responded quite seriously, "Oh no, the ice left long ago. It's got to be a good 4 to 5 degrees in there by now." And he was right. It did feel like about 4 to 5 degrees, but it was wonderful to have clean hair again. Jack stayed in the van playing with his i-phone. Then later he fixed dinner for me as I sat shivering in the back of the van with wet hair. (My desperate search for heat resulted in a new all-Canadian cocktail: Maple wine mixed with Crown Royal. Yum.) </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AuiPpZUREEtQU4GyVSc7KGD9YjzzN0d_32JrkD3HMX6UOwXmdUxyNO-pGtl4w7mdzTbcqRIqPcJhdi66Wzr8fSdm8aik_7Nb7pdjbK2mK1uyC-G9JM469q4mwIxrhhw88exxamu4VG2X/s1600-h/Canada2009_0908_033med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6AuiPpZUREEtQU4GyVSc7KGD9YjzzN0d_32JrkD3HMX6UOwXmdUxyNO-pGtl4w7mdzTbcqRIqPcJhdi66Wzr8fSdm8aik_7Nb7pdjbK2mK1uyC-G9JM469q4mwIxrhhw88exxamu4VG2X/s320/Canada2009_0908_033med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838694821090930" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">These people for the most part have little reason to be upbeat. "When the cod left, that's when everything else went," we were told by a restaurant owner who was waiting her own tables. Yet everywhere we go people are quick to laugh and give some optimistic advice. They are cheerful and always joking around with each other.</span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBxfvuog2ujfRGA4z0Rr6pqa3zd8gfH2EedU6r9-heYsrQcEz-U9NDgAeXvs_2BvM-Dri3SVZTL541BmAfYUHx6qZbapgfa8D4uWssO0zGAgfYJzxsYqj_WfIC3EgO4nKXFDhqwXkEmgQ/s1600-h/Canada2009_0907_059med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 73px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBxfvuog2ujfRGA4z0Rr6pqa3zd8gfH2EedU6r9-heYsrQcEz-U9NDgAeXvs_2BvM-Dri3SVZTL541BmAfYUHx6qZbapgfa8D4uWssO0zGAgfYJzxsYqj_WfIC3EgO4nKXFDhqwXkEmgQ/s320/Canada2009_0907_059med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838060503566146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I think the secret is that they don't take themselves too seriously. How can you paint all the rocks in your landscape in 64 crayola colours, or install plastic flowers in the garden without having a tongue firmly in cheek? Or the red plastic roosters mounted on each and every fencepost around a 2 acre property. Or the entire miniature village complete with miniature clothes-lines with miniature laundry drying in the wind. </span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggw0a3Pja43cBgPKda0hs_pd48Z8qkAAcnp3gONpPW9-bwb-6ouozrdQ2KvMS4GUzyAaNLDV_FKUsQvzXU06pK6DuttAvQD0L3moqR-gmIdpSKHIGGq_9i35AaBqq_V62tQ5ESNgiG7AuU/s1600-h/Canada2009_0907_197med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggw0a3Pja43cBgPKda0hs_pd48Z8qkAAcnp3gONpPW9-bwb-6ouozrdQ2KvMS4GUzyAaNLDV_FKUsQvzXU06pK6DuttAvQD0L3moqR-gmIdpSKHIGGq_9i35AaBqq_V62tQ5ESNgiG7AuU/s320/Canada2009_0907_197med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838076111595394" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KOYYQokdaicTgGaPG-5c7RBQOthBQDg3oadwgq8lYK8xiV8aYbVlWAC59DwtzzQ7e2mOFHUmKMATcqKRIpSX9-slq7FAjz_RkpGZwzUPvDI9v9VGr5Ix0Tana5snTm4Dik_Z-dEpp51U/s1600-h/Canada2009_0907_201med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4KOYYQokdaicTgGaPG-5c7RBQOthBQDg3oadwgq8lYK8xiV8aYbVlWAC59DwtzzQ7e2mOFHUmKMATcqKRIpSX9-slq7FAjz_RkpGZwzUPvDI9v9VGr5Ix0Tana5snTm4Dik_Z-dEpp51U/s320/Canada2009_0907_201med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838085677345730" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Or the plywood cutouts of dogs, cats, cowboys, moose. Or the whirligigs of old-men rowing in the wind, of Canada Geese flying, of characters waving, of anything that you can imagine whirling, well, whirling. Although at a small graveyard we did see a grave that caused me to pause. It was for two brothers who had died in a boating accident in full view of their brother on shore. A tragedy for the family and for the small community. The gravestone was sober, but the entire area was covered in Astroturf, had two fanciful wooden boats and a solar powered miniature lighthouse. Whoever did that had to be able to see through their own tragedy to the sense of humour of the deceased. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxk3CsgpKq70h6pXloaVHZIS5_qRz1YmiZggi6qIq9qt_7hcSnqP0uGslym2ZD4GS3oTlPywLXDJ76-01sHQWnMkn8MgnoTEFjJz5hCtkm9ljP5dKWZ73kvQV11dPdXvn76lq40V15k__/s1600-h/Canada2009_0907_145med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxk3CsgpKq70h6pXloaVHZIS5_qRz1YmiZggi6qIq9qt_7hcSnqP0uGslym2ZD4GS3oTlPywLXDJ76-01sHQWnMkn8MgnoTEFjJz5hCtkm9ljP5dKWZ73kvQV11dPdXvn76lq40V15k__/s400/Canada2009_0907_145med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379841964860061906" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">If you have had an unfriendly encounter with a Newfoundlander, I don't believe it, and if Michael O'Riley was laughing with his friends about the BC hippies out on highway 10 swimming in the pond, well I don't want to know about that either.</span></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /><br />But if I were a Newfoundlander, I think my inner curmudgeon would eventually come out. I think I'd start complaining about the weather and saying, "My tomatoes won't ripen, and I wish the hell that the tourists would stop taking pictures of the damn laundry."</span> </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePNpsJS_5EP7asmR8SiI3wv2l4DZ3XOlPWic2xgxkbik43qS23eEZ7RQjr2Fl-iqiLv8VcAR_xhnUrRoFQjGnRr3j1FlF1LM9mh7XN9izjAAafOgLANY2ETpcSraRY1QNc3wvI1GlHBBk/s1600-h/Canada2009_0907_041med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePNpsJS_5EP7asmR8SiI3wv2l4DZ3XOlPWic2xgxkbik43qS23eEZ7RQjr2Fl-iqiLv8VcAR_xhnUrRoFQjGnRr3j1FlF1LM9mh7XN9izjAAafOgLANY2ETpcSraRY1QNc3wvI1GlHBBk/s320/Canada2009_0907_041med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379838065228084498" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-35514261813875791392009-09-04T07:37:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:19:11.075-08:00When Clean is Just Another Shade of Filthy...Westfalia Living<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhakX86ItnJGHLf1GUbZuvpLmS1gQRi7Oluf1ptdST8lzW7RitfC-PK-Lyc3bnmBNdHi6kVDQyadv0UEzHq8kylhotDtHjjho513gdZChSc4Rr4I2OPy-w5pBJ0b8EbfZip8v__gZpd4i/s1600-h/Canada2009_0826_138med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilhakX86ItnJGHLf1GUbZuvpLmS1gQRi7Oluf1ptdST8lzW7RitfC-PK-Lyc3bnmBNdHi6kVDQyadv0UEzHq8kylhotDtHjjho513gdZChSc4Rr4I2OPy-w5pBJ0b8EbfZip8v__gZpd4i/s320/Canada2009_0826_138med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623041572157314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Sorry that (other than this pig) there's no illustrative photos for this blog, but until your computer has scratch and sniff capability, photos wouldn't do it justice anyway. I'm just going to find some pretty pictures and stick them in randomly.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_lChYSyrwXhvm16u4_sYO2IWVw1CcVwzzwBGqc9JXVVqcELUBJpbANw5ALQqEuAg5dBTJTXiLOuIsFXW621Uku6n2mmzM02uqCOdtTTDYkGvepw0lbNG4J-HB5_Pxk7R1bReeqIJAqNtg/s1600-h/Canada2009_0831_101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_lChYSyrwXhvm16u4_sYO2IWVw1CcVwzzwBGqc9JXVVqcELUBJpbANw5ALQqEuAg5dBTJTXiLOuIsFXW621Uku6n2mmzM02uqCOdtTTDYkGvepw0lbNG4J-HB5_Pxk7R1bReeqIJAqNtg/s320/Canada2009_0831_101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377625634785278178" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJSn0rp3M30H-rronNHZT567KXMHuEACTlbdoipg9oHb8lP3wmp9d_vP7RUp6apyraokI61qJsc1pHLfvYZxbv6YlTnlmkEUTzKYdZbjsMZLllo00gQ-kg0v_NEyLTMcxMb5lwq8zqgxX/s1600-h/Canada2009_0826_107med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJSn0rp3M30H-rronNHZT567KXMHuEACTlbdoipg9oHb8lP3wmp9d_vP7RUp6apyraokI61qJsc1pHLfvYZxbv6YlTnlmkEUTzKYdZbjsMZLllo00gQ-kg0v_NEyLTMcxMb5lwq8zqgxX/s320/Canada2009_0826_107med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623034863495490" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbaRL4pKlrseIiRwKOOlsg51frSr3J5vaRwPl_0-m8_3ofsVw7aLsRaMWZ1CjOQfi4U5BEHkqfxmwGAe3r7-_60s1JcSfa-gld-otV1Cy_0ySDPiuMemZZ74_Y-2f7K8g3e8EPzvu4hnl/s1600-h/Canada2009_0827_016med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbaRL4pKlrseIiRwKOOlsg51frSr3J5vaRwPl_0-m8_3ofsVw7aLsRaMWZ1CjOQfi4U5BEHkqfxmwGAe3r7-_60s1JcSfa-gld-otV1Cy_0ySDPiuMemZZ74_Y-2f7K8g3e8EPzvu4hnl/s320/Canada2009_0827_016med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623050531215538" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We are now in Newfoundland and yes, there actually is bologna on the menu, but I thought it was time to talk about Westfalia living. Rosalita has had a few quirks from the outset, but upon arrival in Newfoundland we had no headlights, no ability to open the windows and no windshield wipers. We've spent the first 24 hours here within a few miles of the ferry terminal and closer still to Matt's Auto here in Placentia Newfoundland.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></span> </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9JXzunNNf6vND-P7MwjwsF6mBwQw5i2teQItiVrHzctxeHZpBSZoZof9bLrPK3tD0FBWiK-iqepx6in19ePkYo932_fOUbv36fauo8e5NaF0HpDZW1P0Cdt4yOOWoPBPEA9bcaBGlsNs/s1600-h/Canada2009_0829_015med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9JXzunNNf6vND-P7MwjwsF6mBwQw5i2teQItiVrHzctxeHZpBSZoZof9bLrPK3tD0FBWiK-iqepx6in19ePkYo932_fOUbv36fauo8e5NaF0HpDZW1P0Cdt4yOOWoPBPEA9bcaBGlsNs/s320/Canada2009_0829_015med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623344448899106" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">But life in Rosalita is more than how well she is or isn't running. It means living in close quarters to each other and getting used to the realities of having no real electrical or water infrastructure. This means we have a sink, but no water or sewer lines unless we are at an RV park (never). This in turn means that we are very water efficient and even more soap efficient. I think we have actually given up on soap for the most part. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsf6llvN7sN7bYWvMds2HgBpefrPh5OeDLymptO9nHoF0r0BaH0ia1JGO7HvCculipfW56NSCB2KKV_bJVqQtPjXQhgFYTgHH0DMuo8jA26LIj7PbozScsHRK-zoA115-wW4Xcb9d1cQG/s1600-h/Canada2009_0831_084med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsf6llvN7sN7bYWvMds2HgBpefrPh5OeDLymptO9nHoF0r0BaH0ia1JGO7HvCculipfW56NSCB2KKV_bJVqQtPjXQhgFYTgHH0DMuo8jA26LIj7PbozScsHRK-zoA115-wW4Xcb9d1cQG/s320/Canada2009_0831_084med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623366190603554" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Take for instance my stainless steel "wineglass." Each evening I enjoy a glass or two, and in the beginning, I would use a little soap and water to clean it up and dry with a tea towel. Then later I would just turn it upside down on a picnic table so that it could dry overnight. Then later still, I would get lazy and go to bed and do this in the morning (nothing dries overnight anyway). Then I decided it was just wine so it really didn't need soap. This morning I just put some water in it to slosh it around and dissolve the old wine, drank the water, and put the glass away wet. I suspect Jack of licking off the spoons and putting them away, but I'm not sure.</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br />Now imagine all of our dishes in somewhat similar fashion. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDst5OIXUcD8-jMGvKRiz5R6AVbJBmNPxq8cX02GdviRyyVd3dupfSQp52eUp3zlkNk1vkbZAKccaupNkXM4zPKnYX1E9C83TORCTiCk9ilEP0HIxsanY-bChXalp8kfvSNR7R0bW8M7a/s1600-h/Canada2009_0831_121med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDst5OIXUcD8-jMGvKRiz5R6AVbJBmNPxq8cX02GdviRyyVd3dupfSQp52eUp3zlkNk1vkbZAKccaupNkXM4zPKnYX1E9C83TORCTiCk9ilEP0HIxsanY-bChXalp8kfvSNR7R0bW8M7a/s320/Canada2009_0831_121med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623370926775698" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">A few weeks ago, we opened the side door after a hike, and the smell was more than just a little revolting. It was sort of an ode du dirty wet socks, rotting fruit and</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> something</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> molding. In the van there is a piece of carpet laid over the VW carpet, and both layers were wet and mildewing. Besides that, the refrigerator does not really keep anything cold. It can sort of keep things cool, but it barely slows the decay as compared to keeping something in the glove compartment. We took out the rugs and dried them as best we could, got the really ugly stuff out of the fridge and today, finally, we're doing the laundry. We're even washing the tea towel for the first time in 8 weeks.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Parks doesn't have the budget for horses...</span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3TCxHFYHpieeH2AnWoCvDwL9xcwUTgluxYm6h5mBnVdz7IanJp004GRF3_gKqfl6pcQO0-imOeORZy01nV8LuLn4P-XpJab5C-sjZbgUYJCP098pHduxDkzqBY9r61AvCbPLR-FKrMuO/s1600-h/Canada2009_0830_145med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3TCxHFYHpieeH2AnWoCvDwL9xcwUTgluxYm6h5mBnVdz7IanJp004GRF3_gKqfl6pcQO0-imOeORZy01nV8LuLn4P-XpJab5C-sjZbgUYJCP098pHduxDkzqBY9r61AvCbPLR-FKrMuO/s320/Canada2009_0830_145med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623351881350146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">I haven't had a shower in 3 days and that seems normal too. But when I do get one, I'm sure I'll feel so smug.</span> </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZ-CSMSXF3RS7umTvClzfZxV-E8jggIi8srlC7ofLWSX2IgjIsTKYkF4Kal2pNP8N_JklQWKwSOBT7ikXLmsX-E_7ErPE40sd4Bo3QGYmm3Xf-WaNadjI-InSDG2vVkPuthL_6HClOb5b/s1600-h/Canada2009_0826_078med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZ-CSMSXF3RS7umTvClzfZxV-E8jggIi8srlC7ofLWSX2IgjIsTKYkF4Kal2pNP8N_JklQWKwSOBT7ikXLmsX-E_7ErPE40sd4Bo3QGYmm3Xf-WaNadjI-InSDG2vVkPuthL_6HClOb5b/s320/Canada2009_0826_078med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623029682485138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYyXOBr33E9KEm9dM8xMgQoCbdlIhF1Q-0zSfuMq3yTd0aTlRY6k4zT1dvQaPSoHeTbiGvZO1P3aYP5xS4N7lUdBK3OWXXu1NCB8On5arxpwceZ1xSnZn2ZJX_6mymXSQ-vCZZm-Y8AcWv/s1600-h/Canada2009_0831_061med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYyXOBr33E9KEm9dM8xMgQoCbdlIhF1Q-0zSfuMq3yTd0aTlRY6k4zT1dvQaPSoHeTbiGvZO1P3aYP5xS4N7lUdBK3OWXXu1NCB8On5arxpwceZ1xSnZn2ZJX_6mymXSQ-vCZZm-Y8AcWv/s320/Canada2009_0831_061med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623358905571890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Qce1QAozAeHpMdkp7VsDI64_0I6kyj_Q0jcjtZ7kHbgBpjaA33-XqXxDk1Si0LMO_wr83MhRX6YjWEP4gWQRQkF95A5vHLPWVbITVg5FmOkJrWDsLRSf2k0cZcyC4sUsCNCaNDS2wWC/s1600-h/Canada2009_0828_116med.JPG"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Qce1QAozAeHpMdkp7VsDI64_0I6kyj_Q0jcjtZ7kHbgBpjaA33-XqXxDk1Si0LMO_wr83MhRX6YjWEP4gWQRQkF95A5vHLPWVbITVg5FmOkJrWDsLRSf2k0cZcyC4sUsCNCaNDS2wWC/s1600-h/Canada2009_0828_116med.JPG"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span> </a><div style="text-align: left;"> <div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><span style="font-family: verdana;">Single Windturbine Blade in NB: </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Qce1QAozAeHpMdkp7VsDI64_0I6kyj_Q0jcjtZ7kHbgBpjaA33-XqXxDk1Si0LMO_wr83MhRX6YjWEP4gWQRQkF95A5vHLPWVbITVg5FmOkJrWDsLRSf2k0cZcyC4sUsCNCaNDS2wWC/s1600-h/Canada2009_0828_116med.JPG"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span></a></div> </div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Qce1QAozAeHpMdkp7VsDI64_0I6kyj_Q0jcjtZ7kHbgBpjaA33-XqXxDk1Si0LMO_wr83MhRX6YjWEP4gWQRQkF95A5vHLPWVbITVg5FmOkJrWDsLRSf2k0cZcyC4sUsCNCaNDS2wWC/s1600-h/Canada2009_0828_116med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 197px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3Qce1QAozAeHpMdkp7VsDI64_0I6kyj_Q0jcjtZ7kHbgBpjaA33-XqXxDk1Si0LMO_wr83MhRX6YjWEP4gWQRQkF95A5vHLPWVbITVg5FmOkJrWDsLRSf2k0cZcyC4sUsCNCaNDS2wWC/s320/Canada2009_0828_116med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377623054493592434" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /></div>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-48325516816522195512009-08-22T15:16:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:22:59.936-08:00Becoming Higher Caliber People<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExRntqNFp6v2_DLIBHAwvMRy7Y-Bj_hsJo1oxlBzESzmV5WYKbGFFV_54k6KREY-tKFq91YqDZlkq-RIMtjX83YakjtjgscxUMyw019POF98RYXHHV5VDjNoufPjRgIgiPiqmVgBIn9Qu/s1600-h/Canada2009_0812_029med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExRntqNFp6v2_DLIBHAwvMRy7Y-Bj_hsJo1oxlBzESzmV5WYKbGFFV_54k6KREY-tKFq91YqDZlkq-RIMtjX83YakjtjgscxUMyw019POF98RYXHHV5VDjNoufPjRgIgiPiqmVgBIn9Qu/s320/Canada2009_0812_029med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372918386576039586" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">We have come across so many ironies in our travels, that I am considering just making a list of them all. Maybe that will be a future blog. The one that’s been on my mind for a while is about food.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:verdana;">We have just spent a delightful few days with friends at their “cottage” in the Laurentians in Quebec. They are foodies and the experience was delicious. Crêpes, Montreal bagels and baguettes, cheeses to die for (including one called “Anglo Saxon” - I don't even want to know why), local wine, beer and cider, espresso, homemade gazpacho, and throughout it all, glorious fresh fruits and vegetables. We had a similar experience with friends in Toronto and again in Ottawa. Actually in Ottawa, as I gazed up agape at the chalkboard menu of a funky organic restaurant, my friend Lisa said I looked like I was seeing a DaVinci painting for the first time.<br /></span></span><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFdOnXxcA2dhyyx-YgQTZ4QFqVepTEobTDcUGgtUzr5UBDMAYEYWQc9DUBjHy45nJEn4omA2wdODJ61Db-GA8fPT_Y3PXIzSx4F64XZ51wbR2x2fXEUtBmWYo80d0xzvJpm-XA4OZwv9DQ/s1600-h/Canada2009_0815_002med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFdOnXxcA2dhyyx-YgQTZ4QFqVepTEobTDcUGgtUzr5UBDMAYEYWQc9DUBjHy45nJEn4omA2wdODJ61Db-GA8fPT_Y3PXIzSx4F64XZ51wbR2x2fXEUtBmWYo80d0xzvJpm-XA4OZwv9DQ/s320/Canada2009_0815_002med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372919778474320658" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">This was because we have spent a lot of time in small rural Canadian towns, and here comes the irony. In small farming communities, you won’t be served fresh fruits or vegetables. There will be lot’s of fried options, there will be both kinds of bread (“white or brown?”) there will be Coca Cola, but the only thing vaguely green will be a pale piece of iceberg lettuce. I finally realized that places that advertise themselves as serving “homestyle cooking” don’t bear any resemblance to what my friends or I would cook at home.<br /><br /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Picture Perfect Montreal Lunch </span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5513js8COGpycBDcz6awW6IQ22tFbh4rauLj_AgbONc3hldSeQl8m8eFWJ0UcygUNzX-9ue-rtfipOMKbxoj4hSTyGwRwxyR6lWzHISbo8FeDTXL7KoyDFJ4XSqaLTBvVWhwJ8llaaRBn/s1600-h/Canada2009_0815_049med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 161px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5513js8COGpycBDcz6awW6IQ22tFbh4rauLj_AgbONc3hldSeQl8m8eFWJ0UcygUNzX-9ue-rtfipOMKbxoj4hSTyGwRwxyR6lWzHISbo8FeDTXL7KoyDFJ4XSqaLTBvVWhwJ8llaaRBn/s320/Canada2009_0815_049med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372919797998042418" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:verdana;">I’ve read that a low income is a strong indicator for an unhealthy weight. And while I have found that restaurant prices may be slightly higher in high rent areas, the difference really hasn’t been significant. That may be because the deveggified restaurant food tends to come in huge portions. The rural restaurant portion sizes assume that I will be spending my afternoon tossing around 50 pound bales of hay or pulling a plow through rocky prairie soil. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;">The result of this kind of eating, along with all the sitting involved with driving across the country, is a couple of British Columbians who are having more difficulty fitting into their trousers.<br /><br /></span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Do vertical photos make my butt look fat?</span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilY5kwS82va4VnNW2i6yVgJqlVka3OTGKdnAZKOse-mCa4uchqMonMgUuip7Thxd5uRU-DbbdloNXyrLbuJxIb7_zHY6Xn1YZWBE1yfOF_t9zcB95J_ov4J2UUOGDTEp0yYdZMsPTcIYEg/s1600-h/IMGP0979a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilY5kwS82va4VnNW2i6yVgJqlVka3OTGKdnAZKOse-mCa4uchqMonMgUuip7Thxd5uRU-DbbdloNXyrLbuJxIb7_zHY6Xn1YZWBE1yfOF_t9zcB95J_ov4J2UUOGDTEp0yYdZMsPTcIYEg/s320/IMGP0979a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372920172061098482" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:verdana;">But it’s not just us. As we have travelled across the country, the experience has been quite similar everywhere. There are a lot of fat people in the country and a lot of slim people in the cities. Part may be fashion consciousness, but as I witness people using their ATV to get down their driveway to empty their mailbox, I can’t but come to the conclusion that the whole rural work-hard ethic doesn’t really result in getting physical activity. It’s just too easy to jump into the car. And in the cities, it’s a pain in the ass to jump in the car. Just try to find parking, and when you do it’s expensive. </span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Toronto - I counted 16 lanes</span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBu5lTLf6lDvvzreyKc8_f9iU_poSi8GxHqTnrneMiJs9vvYzmP0-AuVKntk8Tk-VrF9TKtOp8iTluhV_T9JIAKFthOr6BpR-TtU1KIb37-xqS-VLCE5YLOQbhFa7sml0DorUf7i5-pKeM/s1600-h/Canada2009_0810_017med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBu5lTLf6lDvvzreyKc8_f9iU_poSi8GxHqTnrneMiJs9vvYzmP0-AuVKntk8Tk-VrF9TKtOp8iTluhV_T9JIAKFthOr6BpR-TtU1KIb37-xqS-VLCE5YLOQbhFa7sml0DorUf7i5-pKeM/s320/Canada2009_0810_017med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372918371045503778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A Toronto dirt-filled sedan – a use for cars in the future?</span><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGTwfFGjE0VS4x2UT2QmmXLOB0ETZFyqEDsfGH9lr7TuvJsrMEpe9bA81NIHP62_pK6wN6cVv9K34_ytsrMDCzmz1OG2sCaoeL_KDWNmej9n_Hzoo-nzpWR5rXl3a0QdktC5Da35q5lIK/s1600-h/Canada2009_0809_027med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 119px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHGTwfFGjE0VS4x2UT2QmmXLOB0ETZFyqEDsfGH9lr7TuvJsrMEpe9bA81NIHP62_pK6wN6cVv9K34_ytsrMDCzmz1OG2sCaoeL_KDWNmej9n_Hzoo-nzpWR5rXl3a0QdktC5Da35q5lIK/s320/Canada2009_0809_027med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372917242926434178" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wUzyjg3Zr0vf24nqiR7xqa952_01_W39tJxtfgILRlK8GduqKjxWXxeiGsympOYH6dzWFGsWydWJm0ao8xmJoW6gw_Id6VR5or7ypK_rOg-F1TjbJrZqv_m0oosGUeYKsiv6JjMaSkYT/s1600-h/Canada2009_0809_019med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wUzyjg3Zr0vf24nqiR7xqa952_01_W39tJxtfgILRlK8GduqKjxWXxeiGsympOYH6dzWFGsWydWJm0ao8xmJoW6gw_Id6VR5or7ypK_rOg-F1TjbJrZqv_m0oosGUeYKsiv6JjMaSkYT/s320/Canada2009_0809_019med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372917231674547170" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">an Ottawa artist gets his exercise balancing heavy rocks</span><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEOCPlmaar5Aur_NqLltFHPrtk7icP6L6wssaOwCQlLBUwtwGBXAXIhSKoZ8ItAN6m4VSAnyVMuZExr_Tc8iLz8Bfo_AJaL4pda9nLJFyIa1s6Dm2F6RIyBR1-J8s6b_K2gOsN4oJeKOI/s1600-h/Canada2009_0814_021med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEOCPlmaar5Aur_NqLltFHPrtk7icP6L6wssaOwCQlLBUwtwGBXAXIhSKoZ8ItAN6m4VSAnyVMuZExr_Tc8iLz8Bfo_AJaL4pda9nLJFyIa1s6Dm2F6RIyBR1-J8s6b_K2gOsN4oJeKOI/s320/Canada2009_0814_021med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372919771506972130" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Or is all this just my own snobbishness? Is expecting greenery beyond coleslaw at a meal just another form of elitism? A woman told me she was a “coffee snob too” when I asked if espresso was available anywhere in town. </span> <span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /><br />We've just headed into a more rural Quebec, so I'll be able to see if the theory holds. After all, everything sounds better in French. </span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTc0gtEMrLqQp3aGAYeu_45MfYqbUF5Zcn84jzpX9emspRn1iT3T45agERUcf_gaRoS8qacrpnPKeNyhmDJ8c7eKat8UQdnv5cvkGFm5EvlVvB-RTLlGN39sfT02w97RG4fEgbWjKS6v2j/s1600-h/Canada2009_0815_038med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTc0gtEMrLqQp3aGAYeu_45MfYqbUF5Zcn84jzpX9emspRn1iT3T45agERUcf_gaRoS8qacrpnPKeNyhmDJ8c7eKat8UQdnv5cvkGFm5EvlVvB-RTLlGN39sfT02w97RG4fEgbWjKS6v2j/s320/Canada2009_0815_038med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372919788999851010" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-4763385442808261152009-08-10T04:49:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:19:11.077-08:00Islands of Misfit Toys<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGidRJSEtJFXMiB101X6ONlXUnB8F5hyphenhyphenHCWzApLo-S9ymPD-r9IGix4PKVRntUgAc6UIBHEfBl-vbDT_u277oIU42bYxdO5T3pVoiZGJh0z2J2GyaGQtKz0s9GX6AQiDEOMTQuiTRHUW0Z/s1600-h/Canada2009_0807_057med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGidRJSEtJFXMiB101X6ONlXUnB8F5hyphenhyphenHCWzApLo-S9ymPD-r9IGix4PKVRntUgAc6UIBHEfBl-vbDT_u277oIU42bYxdO5T3pVoiZGJh0z2J2GyaGQtKz0s9GX6AQiDEOMTQuiTRHUW0Z/s320/Canada2009_0807_057med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315929005283442" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OiSmZZaSC5R33U7uBC3dir2IOHywRs8Ef-prHdOPKzuDz8njA4jVGdJ7dvFt-htaEjXBqt-C0z2PAwqfBSvRWVq6F1n5vjV4U-ONg2RJYaqbLfrbVd0Kh0GSeQxT5JSD7OWYtJJwI8IS/s1600-h/Canada2009_0731_037med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OiSmZZaSC5R33U7uBC3dir2IOHywRs8Ef-prHdOPKzuDz8njA4jVGdJ7dvFt-htaEjXBqt-C0z2PAwqfBSvRWVq6F1n5vjV4U-ONg2RJYaqbLfrbVd0Kh0GSeQxT5JSD7OWYtJJwI8IS/s320/Canada2009_0731_037med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368304536357338594" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><br /><span style=""></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">In his book, “Beauty Tips From Moose Jaw,” Will Ferguson’s thesis is that </span><st1:country-region style="font-family: verdana;" st="on"><st1:place st="on">Canada</st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family:verdana;"> is not a country, but a clump of otherwise unrelated outposts.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Yes, I just put Will Ferguson and the word “thesis” in the same sentence. It makes it seem important.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">In any case, our last series of encounters with various groups of Canadians, have brought me to a similar realization. We all imagine that we are somehow different or unique within our little communities. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">If you're a Mennonite: is it a sin to be proud of your bull?</span></span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5JrPx21EjqcPnuKoX84jvwRYSPusybSXkHEF7JTLdKMVfCH6T_7tu52PW117uSPDfsFbjgiVRaHxrAaaxtvbmfytijgA_nE0Bmv380vSky_-i86QhG7xlNTjoK7Y85LSLiEyD5dZLHcQV/s1600-h/Canada2009_0802_052med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5JrPx21EjqcPnuKoX84jvwRYSPusybSXkHEF7JTLdKMVfCH6T_7tu52PW117uSPDfsFbjgiVRaHxrAaaxtvbmfytijgA_nE0Bmv380vSky_-i86QhG7xlNTjoK7Y85LSLiEyD5dZLHcQV/s320/Canada2009_0802_052med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368310150983757570" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZB1p4ZG3DUrw3XaiUJzmrNOLAcjOgjIt5Zc7qyrYujt7-ofZtdRgah8YLFYqmokFLGf9qzPQDZqInlKzlWhASPIJdZObFfni0OM8PkiYA3a1xgIkh__OREwFoqTs8Fr0oA1vv5I-D7IR/s1600-h/Canada2009_0802_065med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZB1p4ZG3DUrw3XaiUJzmrNOLAcjOgjIt5Zc7qyrYujt7-ofZtdRgah8YLFYqmokFLGf9qzPQDZqInlKzlWhASPIJdZObFfni0OM8PkiYA3a1xgIkh__OREwFoqTs8Fr0oA1vv5I-D7IR/s320/Canada2009_0802_065med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368310140003527650" border="0" /></a></p><o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;">We visited the Doukabours, who moved here from <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region> to continue their culture<span style=""> </span>unimperilled by the Tsar’s Army. As previously mentioned, we spent some time with cowboys, who would prefer to continue their lifestyle unimpeded by government, oil prices, enviros, and god-damned vegetarians. We spent some time with the Métis, who developed a unique blend of French voyageur and first nations culture, but who are now a culture of their own. (How can you not like people who can fiddle and jig, make bannock, hit a target with an axe, make beautiful functional things, and survive on boiled muskrat?) And we visited the Mennonites, who imported a European culture to <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">Canada</st1:country-region></st1:place>, again to avoid persecution and harassment. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bison Skull painted by Metis Artist Neil Fehr:</span></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqgaCOORlvutRaBAdoHGX501w_N-oFUGle9qWG9S4bvP2MT52lDjS1ZlOo_rNt7sQLzH9WCfTtGrKnppEVgjUljOijBA-SYS_kiTpCW_ULnQsMexyuIgb6zPxrFGnSK_30TulNxmxRbOb/s1600-h/Canada2009_0801_006med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqgaCOORlvutRaBAdoHGX501w_N-oFUGle9qWG9S4bvP2MT52lDjS1ZlOo_rNt7sQLzH9WCfTtGrKnppEVgjUljOijBA-SYS_kiTpCW_ULnQsMexyuIgb6zPxrFGnSK_30TulNxmxRbOb/s320/Canada2009_0801_006med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368304542053317250" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Hitting a quarter at 20 paces:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7jHi05uVhWbLePgr1P4HoxbHJfyeW_0gwNw32nVJg7jZms3t_-Tq8APj4X3IEYw_fiwYSlpdVmPVW6ZyXdOj27lbT2lhtPJ21gkzLHbRe6zJm_8mZ_4tNve8ArNHNQfQEhmliZp1uS-e/s1600-h/Canada2009_0801_059med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7jHi05uVhWbLePgr1P4HoxbHJfyeW_0gwNw32nVJg7jZms3t_-Tq8APj4X3IEYw_fiwYSlpdVmPVW6ZyXdOj27lbT2lhtPJ21gkzLHbRe6zJm_8mZ_4tNve8ArNHNQfQEhmliZp1uS-e/s320/Canada2009_0801_059med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368304530698168706" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Caution: Objects in Mirror are Closer Than They Appear</span></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3xMGudp0gI-AD4j8Oq7kVSAnKzi9x2pe3wf5GP0cn0vqw0u0tg1-kzPBkX-3dSsDRxJbIK6kH6jvjBjiCnyzmDG0XLeldzBe5wKyoTAqpwGsaRUMuXSqedAblyfW3Nm0lEDdPwJbsBY6d/s1600-h/Canada2009_0730_137a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3xMGudp0gI-AD4j8Oq7kVSAnKzi9x2pe3wf5GP0cn0vqw0u0tg1-kzPBkX-3dSsDRxJbIK6kH6jvjBjiCnyzmDG0XLeldzBe5wKyoTAqpwGsaRUMuXSqedAblyfW3Nm0lEDdPwJbsBY6d/s320/Canada2009_0730_137a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368306103902916610" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70MPJPupJ-vW80uoMHceqTWt5ysDoYHp_bqGoXppdNDiL3BHvx5hagy9kilbpHvnodbsfhFbD1PqVNHQnEEf2KRPwpZ_dio5es9kGVyxPKmm09QwWzoYf46YM7X9CCIQgqw59FlcDMHBj/s1600-h/Canada2009_0730_145a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70MPJPupJ-vW80uoMHceqTWt5ysDoYHp_bqGoXppdNDiL3BHvx5hagy9kilbpHvnodbsfhFbD1PqVNHQnEEf2KRPwpZ_dio5es9kGVyxPKmm09QwWzoYf46YM7X9CCIQgqw59FlcDMHBj/s320/Canada2009_0730_145a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368306110738153650" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFzEK85WB0LweSF3vnU2dxdb4MMNN76iAksJn2TdmjyF8KBhFjzZFzYWoKnMoFMFHLWz1dWz7f7A56LvVT_QQAHnaik6UfYglfpXesDmaE5AWMQpZVT2Iv81MEeaM9LBI7LwOM2GaRdR3q/s1600-h/Canada2009_0730_144a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 458px; height: 151px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFzEK85WB0LweSF3vnU2dxdb4MMNN76iAksJn2TdmjyF8KBhFjzZFzYWoKnMoFMFHLWz1dWz7f7A56LvVT_QQAHnaik6UfYglfpXesDmaE5AWMQpZVT2Iv81MEeaM9LBI7LwOM2GaRdR3q/s320/Canada2009_0730_144a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368306107385823650" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal" face="verdana" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;">Then there are the fervently non-Canadian “Northwest Angle” inhabitants.<span style=""> </span>Not familiar with the Northwest Angle? Go to the most southerly portion of <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Manitoba</st1:place></st1:state>’s eastern boundary.<span style=""> </span>Surrounded by the Lake of the Woods, there is a peninsula off of <st1:state st="on">Manitoba</st1:state>, not part of <st1:state st="on">Ontario</st1:state>, that is actually part of <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Minnesota</st1:place></st1:state>.<span style=""> </span>It’s the most northerly point of the contiguous <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">United States</st1:country-region></st1:place>. <span style=""> </span>Here in a weirdly American way, these people have developed their own lives, unimpeded by, well, anybody.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jim's Corner:</span></span> <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shack and Telephone</span></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ4fzg_whzimxUGPr_3tfo0RJ6-jFcS5pbZpq7VNfDXFycC4okxKnT3cCFJn4f_RfzRwPNArzKEf8JVSyCi7EGZPGfEmql7cGqyg9tbEUN8yLc5tZqzDat84dP1-Sf18HoG9zsPwqueDeZ/s1600-h/Canada2009_0803_020med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ4fzg_whzimxUGPr_3tfo0RJ6-jFcS5pbZpq7VNfDXFycC4okxKnT3cCFJn4f_RfzRwPNArzKEf8JVSyCi7EGZPGfEmql7cGqyg9tbEUN8yLc5tZqzDat84dP1-Sf18HoG9zsPwqueDeZ/s320/Canada2009_0803_020med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368310146511957298" border="0" /></a><br /><o:p></o:p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVDTsqNIfJXj7GsRZa-pW_7Y8Ky4EUqfS-KKX8iPmhHXtByrBMbIkGtEq-yOdEVYjUSWdGxYaskPDVot5aesR311BIWzpSLW05f-vwA95rDCezglyGHo5BllLji3Gy6YID25O8VPWuw6V/s1600-h/Canada2009_0803_018med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVDTsqNIfJXj7GsRZa-pW_7Y8Ky4EUqfS-KKX8iPmhHXtByrBMbIkGtEq-yOdEVYjUSWdGxYaskPDVot5aesR311BIWzpSLW05f-vwA95rDCezglyGHo5BllLji3Gy6YID25O8VPWuw6V/s320/Canada2009_0803_018med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368310144831179698" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;">Aside: The border crossing into the Northwest Angle is bizarre. For one thing you need to go down about 100 km of dirt road to get there. Then you see the sign, "Welcome to the United States." Further down, the next sign, " YOU MUST CHECK IN WITH THE US AUTHORITIES TO ENTER THE US". Further down, the next sign, "US IMMIGRATION AND CONTROL AT JIM'S CORNER." Then, "JIM'S CORNER 8 KM." so you're basically an illegal entry for 8 more km. Then you get to Jim's Corner, which is, a corner, a crossroads of 2 dirt roads and a little white shack. In the shack is a telephone. Press the left button to call USA authorities. Press the right button to call Canadian Authorities as you leave. Homeland Security is hard to take seriously in these circumstances. We brought our passports for this?<br /></p><span style="font-family:verdana;">Back to the most important subculture of all: the lonely Westfalian’s who, after several dry provinces finally in Ontario see another couple driving a Westfalia and go crazy waving and honking.<br /><br /></span><o:p></o:p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;">I was beginning to think that each of these groups was good at seeing how others had impacted their lives, typically negatively, but had a blind spot regarding their impact on everyone else. The cultural museums that we visited showed each group's struggles to survive in a harsh landscape and showed their beautiful crafts and ingenuity. But a lot of these groups were living within the same territories and I wondered how did the (fill in the blank) feel about these newcomers who settled these lands.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">How baby Kleenex are made:</span></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrw7xb9fUxsOq1wtW-73gUa5pC6PcnexYQZoRQ5MsOucOJXYfXCs852cXk57H7QnHfBAhqkbDFt1BwWpWNtps-wZHDht353XXnPcIw6OOiWWBqQdTMWFdmBCJpb-S66vX541yOtXjGD4E/s1600-h/Canada2009_0804_006med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 124px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmrw7xb9fUxsOq1wtW-73gUa5pC6PcnexYQZoRQ5MsOucOJXYfXCs852cXk57H7QnHfBAhqkbDFt1BwWpWNtps-wZHDht353XXnPcIw6OOiWWBqQdTMWFdmBCJpb-S66vX541yOtXjGD4E/s320/Canada2009_0804_006med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315916639128690" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1UNsIS46B-5XY8MrUC7Vsg7Vj_OmjgoMQZOiZjy5-Cm4wGOuGbqytM4lYiEGlobCM2Lj-baggXJoypUxxcb-CynTOqAdbVXRM6qcORwKY1CNZ2dYU7Vo2w6bTIBCI2Vr0tpH4FKFldXT/s1600-h/Canada2009_0804_007med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 122px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_1UNsIS46B-5XY8MrUC7Vsg7Vj_OmjgoMQZOiZjy5-Cm4wGOuGbqytM4lYiEGlobCM2Lj-baggXJoypUxxcb-CynTOqAdbVXRM6qcORwKY1CNZ2dYU7Vo2w6bTIBCI2Vr0tpH4FKFldXT/s320/Canada2009_0804_007med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315921195593058" border="0" /></a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; font-family: verdana;">Then our entry into <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Ontario</st1:place></st1:state> greeted us with an endless series of “trading posts” which sell large quantities of tacky plastic things, chocolate fudge, dead animal pelts, indian crafts, and large wooden carvings of “Indians” with less than intelligent facial expressions.<span style=""> </span>All of which may appeal to you if you happen to be an undereducated fat white guy toting a gun but unsuccessful at hunting.<span style=""> </span>Otherwise it’s all a bit alienating. I had the feeling that these places were ignoring everyone. But then again, maybe they thought of themselves as pioneers starting up their own businesses etc. <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Just a thought.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wolfskin and 50 Fox tails reduced to tacky souvenirs</span></span><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja5LJclewwgFPfzbmoc309D6kMOYGCMlLdAtQ_VV2d5IRsTYZYXeKipNpBvcgkHHqzdxPzzazA_OWMPTBEBrlpKLUjU0o1ASBAK_1OkScff8N41eS6RXtPKy37qRTZI3wnpn_fnP_-6RDV/s1600-h/Canada2009_0806_072med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja5LJclewwgFPfzbmoc309D6kMOYGCMlLdAtQ_VV2d5IRsTYZYXeKipNpBvcgkHHqzdxPzzazA_OWMPTBEBrlpKLUjU0o1ASBAK_1OkScff8N41eS6RXtPKy37qRTZI3wnpn_fnP_-6RDV/s320/Canada2009_0806_072med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315925191238610" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-49979277945814990332009-07-29T14:55:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:20:38.071-08:00Food, Crude, Horsepower, and “Men of the Land”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4Pep9iCxN11IEyDhUtaVVCmM_JHb1q60KmLxUdLd1tZdzvqkupK0AK1k2XuQ0J9m1QzvAMwPhEHCL6Mnw9VQ399XH5q2c1fr__bC_9XBf7ffe8Hkw-WjRvRGBLS5Fw-0gn_R66F5x6TE/s1600-h/Canada2009_0725_181med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4Pep9iCxN11IEyDhUtaVVCmM_JHb1q60KmLxUdLd1tZdzvqkupK0AK1k2XuQ0J9m1QzvAMwPhEHCL6Mnw9VQ399XH5q2c1fr__bC_9XBf7ffe8Hkw-WjRvRGBLS5Fw-0gn_R66F5x6TE/s320/Canada2009_0725_181med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364015534733319922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />For my birthday we took a hike in Riding Mountain up to Grey Owl’s cabin. For anyone who is not familiar with him, Grey Owl was a man who took on an Ojibwe lifestyle and became a conservationist focusing on reintroducing beaver and educating people to appreciate the value of nature. It was my birthday and it was a true gift to literally walk in the path of this fascinating man. Grey Owl of course turned out to be an Englishman who took on a first nations persona because it was the best way he could see of becoming close with the land. It just didn’t seem possible as an Englishman.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Remember you belong to nature,<br /> not it to you." - Grey Owl</span></span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxR_t-mfIvkNhoYZzKLnszKbfvNrbyPOi8SBDK8JlBKKTlRhYzVC7QNrLNOSY2Jk2lu6tyvxsF42sRbMOOO_F7k2MjkDUDoyBiFtOn1n-UOtpCft97zXHFz3N-fUHK4HuWOtS7VZMFA8P/s1600-h/Canada2009_0728_099med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxR_t-mfIvkNhoYZzKLnszKbfvNrbyPOi8SBDK8JlBKKTlRhYzVC7QNrLNOSY2Jk2lu6tyvxsF42sRbMOOO_F7k2MjkDUDoyBiFtOn1n-UOtpCft97zXHFz3N-fUHK4HuWOtS7VZMFA8P/s320/Canada2009_0728_099med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364017460771666722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">The interesting thing that I have discovered in Southern Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta, is that most prairie people consider themselves to be people “of the land.” The farmers, the ranchers and cowboys, and even the truckers and oil cowboys think of themselves this way. Maybe it’s just having all this sky around them and not many people. This is an irony to me considering we daily pass farm fields that have signs advertising: “Inputs proudly provided by X” (Inputs meaning chemical pesticides and fertilizers). Beef cattle get their own hormone “inputs” in their ears, urea growth enhancers in their stomachs, while creating loads of greenhouse gases. And then there is Jack and Lori off in their big vehicle spewing almost 2 tonnes (to date) of CO2, and looking at the bigger rigs and shaking their heads.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Hard Way:</span></span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMTA_kOlcr91fJVD6Arvv_15E1mBwMPF75n5dUAOTNzcUzhv9c7aP0kcUX7uWbyhH7S_k9iw31nkdEQph6pbc6kQjtQbT1Zr5fig6WdoZIJYzL0QOGybq4TM-0LeNV8cpd5j58ZTsqzpiQ/s1600-h/Canada2009_0725_170med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMTA_kOlcr91fJVD6Arvv_15E1mBwMPF75n5dUAOTNzcUzhv9c7aP0kcUX7uWbyhH7S_k9iw31nkdEQph6pbc6kQjtQbT1Zr5fig6WdoZIJYzL0QOGybq4TM-0LeNV8cpd5j58ZTsqzpiQ/s320/Canada2009_0725_170med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364015525208197058" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZnaJu-ZHsDsH1DqmQvbu56ZzBnnpr1JrgtoYlQZ0kOpfyTWBymTDOifCswES2m2cKAbpWwsTOzMp9C6ykchyrG1XeX4-AxRnNwpLCe6nNIXXFA9e6896OYrfgvU2vaado8Sj_vLiR5Zw/s1600-h/Canada2009_0725_080med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZnaJu-ZHsDsH1DqmQvbu56ZzBnnpr1JrgtoYlQZ0kOpfyTWBymTDOifCswES2m2cKAbpWwsTOzMp9C6ykchyrG1XeX4-AxRnNwpLCe6nNIXXFA9e6896OYrfgvU2vaado8Sj_vLiR5Zw/s320/Canada2009_0725_080med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364015520227580690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">We spent the weekend at the Austin (Manitoba) Thresherman’s Reunion and Stampede. This is an event where everyone brings out their horses, steam and old gas tractors and give us all a blast from the past of how things were done “in the olden days.” I learned about mowing, stooking (setting up sheaves to dry), horsepowered (literally) plowing, bailing, threshing etc. The first thing you notice about the old-fashioned way of doing things is how many people it takes. You cannot be a loner and succeed as an old-time farmer. A threshing crew requires many steps and even more bodies.<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">The next immediate thing you notice is what a dusty, hot, dirty job the whole business is. When the wind blows at all, the straw, which is well chopped up into sharp little slivers by the thresher, will blow into your eyes, up your nose, down your shirt collar and somehow under your bra to make you an itching watering mess in less than 20 minutes. Not to mention the dust. Good thing the days are long and there’s only 12 more hours to go.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWb17tL9hmjFz_hvRSN96S-aWs2z-XZ0ROgKn0F8waBcy_b19A1FJ1tYL14GPUxQpjSZBci2ncW3S2XfWRUEYpEJiPE5G7gjZ5ZSd1lRNOX5MSdeLx4o04EzLRcY5OvLDk8mL86MOjMUw/s1600-h/Canada2009_0725_048med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWb17tL9hmjFz_hvRSN96S-aWs2z-XZ0ROgKn0F8waBcy_b19A1FJ1tYL14GPUxQpjSZBci2ncW3S2XfWRUEYpEJiPE5G7gjZ5ZSd1lRNOX5MSdeLx4o04EzLRcY5OvLDk8mL86MOjMUw/s320/Canada2009_0725_048med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364015521351848050" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">Jack recalled his mum talking about having to feed these crews as they came through to do the threshing on the farm, and her most disgusting job: washing all the men’s dirty handkerchiefs. Ewww. One of the old-timers here did point out that when the threshing needed to be done, everyone would get together to get the job done. People worked together, and they played together too. People knew their neighbours well and relied on each other whether they needed help or could give it. Now he says, nobody knows their neighbours. Interesting that this is happening out here on the farm and not just the cities.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Try to make a $10 T-shirt this way:</span></span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxF8C6RJhPIJape9CLThUTg4tF70akM1ukP5Z_ahCHlw_R9LeCEhmfbjxwUY_njecYG9HHtbUIq3uywv2Tw2KtkuH12IG1WouigO_CP3wTmVBtgkwjx0kTw11BUmcZ9RTpY1ok3O7zeEB/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_003med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxF8C6RJhPIJape9CLThUTg4tF70akM1ukP5Z_ahCHlw_R9LeCEhmfbjxwUY_njecYG9HHtbUIq3uywv2Tw2KtkuH12IG1WouigO_CP3wTmVBtgkwjx0kTw11BUmcZ9RTpY1ok3O7zeEB/s320/Canada2009_0726_003med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364015535884932930" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >It was telling how, as the hour changed and the farmers started winding down their machinery, that it was obviously getting time for the rodeo to begin. It was like the changing of the guard, all the farmer hats & overalls left and the Stetsons and the Wranglers moved in. The rodeo guys are a different breed. They do work independently and it seems to attract a different style of person. For these people, “nature” is defined as a wily horse or a runaway calf.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Trust:</span></span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk65VFekq-9tKi07K15hBD2IMoKujltqDyjTqbuhFGx8Hu-2vpURR30mZppaQ_3Cpe960rhOw_Pk4JOEQIl4YLB3KN_KroD-hfF9STq0iZYrpj7UKpjXlBqAadfmJj5TGFwUuPh6BqITr/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_042med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk65VFekq-9tKi07K15hBD2IMoKujltqDyjTqbuhFGx8Hu-2vpURR30mZppaQ_3Cpe960rhOw_Pk4JOEQIl4YLB3KN_KroD-hfF9STq0iZYrpj7UKpjXlBqAadfmJj5TGFwUuPh6BqITr/s320/Canada2009_0726_042med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364016907927334674" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I don't have any earthshaking conclusions from all this. Maybe I've just found that for all of us who claim to have a connection with "The Land" it's important to stand back and ask how close that tie really is.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3bb_CZICvNKD3wgzKIDqanGVy447R-ADG-D57gUThyphenhyphenuFjhGA9xdywyL5-qmIzIzlye0vB1O2opZu0iXXClCgXwW3bfV9Hm1itE9X8D-c0W3KvG2SGDDdp7nWEx_LVmLFYNa36EFmjwWL/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_417med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3bb_CZICvNKD3wgzKIDqanGVy447R-ADG-D57gUThyphenhyphenuFjhGA9xdywyL5-qmIzIzlye0vB1O2opZu0iXXClCgXwW3bfV9Hm1itE9X8D-c0W3KvG2SGDDdp7nWEx_LVmLFYNa36EFmjwWL/s320/Canada2009_0726_417med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364016927936206050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Observations from the Threshermans Reunion:<br /></span><ul><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Even though there are no safety guards on the equipment, the people here all seemed to have most of their appendages.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Horses blow up more often than steam boilers. We saw at least two runaways, and these were mostly sedate draft horses.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Not that much time has passed since these “rudimentary” machines were in regular use. 70-80 years?</span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >The carbon emissions from the boilers and engines must have been astronomical. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Everyone here is white. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >The bigger the truck, the fatter the man. </span></li></ul><span style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >Smoke + Fog = Smog:</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKuXJMa1pM6yuwBhwi7YGaSJW5Y-xMzuDtBia2uoVHseSf37GAZOYIKvtxjOl52QrG2qNSfTDuK-BN8JTOHAm7NswMF0atfgzyg-Fi37kfDYKpi1GJJkChW42YuyImudnwO7Ba0n7HgvE/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_174med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKuXJMa1pM6yuwBhwi7YGaSJW5Y-xMzuDtBia2uoVHseSf37GAZOYIKvtxjOl52QrG2qNSfTDuK-BN8JTOHAm7NswMF0atfgzyg-Fi37kfDYKpi1GJJkChW42YuyImudnwO7Ba0n7HgvE/s320/Canada2009_0726_174med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364016913128942322" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Whoa Dammit!"</span></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7vb0dQYWev94v16HMKDpozleKr7Ya-Zm7dIUA4gHuRUXzX2lHdt-5XjJ9CqWzuZiDYRltP3e6e2Soysnzv8cFzSIFgl3CwloqBiF-nYf7z9kikPmYxQzryKqMqk5pFPUs3-pwTVz4yea/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_215med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 194px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7vb0dQYWev94v16HMKDpozleKr7Ya-Zm7dIUA4gHuRUXzX2lHdt-5XjJ9CqWzuZiDYRltP3e6e2Soysnzv8cFzSIFgl3CwloqBiF-nYf7z9kikPmYxQzryKqMqk5pFPUs3-pwTVz4yea/s320/Canada2009_0726_215med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364016915679644498" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ24S1VDGFuHOY1HM9tLGmOJYblrXANqzEewJS-249bM8OsCqgSJU69dORYccP-_A5wq8EWARq0uYhPuTEzwbqTofgO2XNMCw7pvPftRgyMdbr4GcZ3WIDVku1LRxQ9TToctbmjmF28xlD/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_232med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 193px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ24S1VDGFuHOY1HM9tLGmOJYblrXANqzEewJS-249bM8OsCqgSJU69dORYccP-_A5wq8EWARq0uYhPuTEzwbqTofgO2XNMCw7pvPftRgyMdbr4GcZ3WIDVku1LRxQ9TToctbmjmF28xlD/s320/Canada2009_0726_232med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364016922605486514" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Ironies for a “history based” event:<br /></span><ul><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >The entire area was sprayed for mosquitoes twice prior to this event. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >The winter wheat fields used for mowing, sheaving, stooking and threshing demos were “dessicated” or “artificially ripened” with RoundUp prior to the event to ensure that the grain was ripe and the stalks brittle enough to do the jobs properly. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Nothing sold in the concessions was made with whole wheat flour. None of the serving implements were on reusable plates or cutlery. </span></li><li><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" >Again, no Canadian beer to be found on the site. </span></li></ul><span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Too cheap to buy more rodeo tix</span></span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYb_c8KMw0hOgDuDg90FsIdTyUZxrMvT__gZg0xCc2TCVKmtfSOk6_GaknBF2jLKGogb8FuN_uA484qB2L3q_rsMXSDCDEtdD8CCFp-iYqqsZdmTFwQLXXnpkkNPulQy7bLX_UQknYkNF/s1600-h/Canada2009_0726_444med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYb_c8KMw0hOgDuDg90FsIdTyUZxrMvT__gZg0xCc2TCVKmtfSOk6_GaknBF2jLKGogb8FuN_uA484qB2L3q_rsMXSDCDEtdD8CCFp-iYqqsZdmTFwQLXXnpkkNPulQy7bLX_UQknYkNF/s320/Canada2009_0726_444med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364017461499852770" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-41011713678177281902009-07-23T16:24:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:18:59.836-08:00PS: Where we've been so far...<span style="font-family:verdana;">Yes - I know this is a clumsy low-tech approach to mapping, but here it is. Where we've been. With a Rand McNally road atlas and a yellow highlighter pen. Click on the photo and you can follow our less than straight route.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbKHtBDg6Yne7iwCH1VFm4EHlSUdSQ5ebI7G-2SGHR7OP7mX3e6pIvNOnxgoyN2fIKG538QZqmimvXMNY82SUVv8peMZZicfRY6W3aoQknvpeD5rc8OtvKDkYBkQrJMhOBMS6I9hDTE1C/s1600-h/Canada2009_Panorama1+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbKHtBDg6Yne7iwCH1VFm4EHlSUdSQ5ebI7G-2SGHR7OP7mX3e6pIvNOnxgoyN2fIKG538QZqmimvXMNY82SUVv8peMZZicfRY6W3aoQknvpeD5rc8OtvKDkYBkQrJMhOBMS6I9hDTE1C/s400/Canada2009_Panorama1+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361801075762634546" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-83673521259246490182009-07-23T14:23:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:18:59.837-08:00Saskatchewan Culture Shock<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZabGutZo8bbDksAymhucQT1PJNPetIo6gHQq3GfYHXX_0970zaivJ33ANM5ZnbufdwuCMl65oPP0AIW4HtgbBl6FuiVztyzqr5cNVg4yw-SmfXqEZKtHwBb09IcSw7jcIhuuXHvbOVTO/s1600-h/Canada2009_0723_023med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZabGutZo8bbDksAymhucQT1PJNPetIo6gHQq3GfYHXX_0970zaivJ33ANM5ZnbufdwuCMl65oPP0AIW4HtgbBl6FuiVztyzqr5cNVg4yw-SmfXqEZKtHwBb09IcSw7jcIhuuXHvbOVTO/s400/Canada2009_0723_023med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361774271005203058" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Saskatchewan is a quirky little place. We're only here one more day, but we've discovered a shift in our views is necessary to appreciate what goes on here.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqhgLl4egbiKH5bjDVMvBHpTEysHshgkszvAzTkt1UmiuwKSApDyHnU1Gf_ZqqMwK9JkJkipBM6CzQOCI0eC2l5Vpr4cNfY33NCrcuvNBLjpVzBpVD2NbvLxuDzjoh_i_miUCXnISP1D3/s1600-h/Canada2009_0716_037med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 182px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqhgLl4egbiKH5bjDVMvBHpTEysHshgkszvAzTkt1UmiuwKSApDyHnU1Gf_ZqqMwK9JkJkipBM6CzQOCI0eC2l5Vpr4cNfY33NCrcuvNBLjpVzBpVD2NbvLxuDzjoh_i_miUCXnISP1D3/s320/Canada2009_0716_037med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361777615870585650" border="0" /></a><br /></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Parks</span><br />There is a pastoral quality to the beauty that we've found throughout the south of this province. Farms and old barns and homesteads. Lakes and more lakes and some lakes that actually turned out be huge fields of blooming blue flax flowers.<br />Huge horses and Rube Goldburg style farm machinery.<span style="font-family:verdana;"> </span> </span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >A lake:</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7O1mHJ6wEWLzqB26_Htuli27z5Y6C2cjKZVJzSmCseUACsUWMWvtTwWtfimUsGd18ipVBhDK7wE-r_r7Gjldhe-MJH7ihWIy_YVc5wkRxuMFYb_L4d14YwGtONY4SKWqH4JUuyeC2hX5/s1600-h/Canada2009_0716_012med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7O1mHJ6wEWLzqB26_Htuli27z5Y6C2cjKZVJzSmCseUACsUWMWvtTwWtfimUsGd18ipVBhDK7wE-r_r7Gjldhe-MJH7ihWIy_YVc5wkRxuMFYb_L4d14YwGtONY4SKWqH4JUuyeC2hX5/s320/Canada2009_0716_012med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361773230888229330" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;" >...not a lake</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >:</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGygOYIojZF3zTkvOSnn7opVmTs3cgb2uwE6YtTW1XYGOIlDK0ie8vIenrevGFEPhDwrMKM_V-zrDZWCyJUgcjQEPI-FXnBfXPyMNvN1Yh5YeUzMoi7l5d83mEWtGPgclqMttm57794x34/s1600-h/Canada2009_0723_014med.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGygOYIojZF3zTkvOSnn7opVmTs3cgb2uwE6YtTW1XYGOIlDK0ie8vIenrevGFEPhDwrMKM_V-zrDZWCyJUgcjQEPI-FXnBfXPyMNvN1Yh5YeUzMoi7l5d83mEWtGPgclqMttm57794x34/s320/Canada2009_0723_014med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361773387458782034" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">But when we went to the provincial parks we expected, well parks like the National Parks. That is, a place that let's it's natural beauty just be.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Grasslands National Park</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dtJefeFygMxcKzjkkOWR9dUY_EZETttnfyt5aldc_lq6s6XvUjNEeHc8jJco5A2GF5nfBrBsT4ebIH8lMejowo3lIlZr0WKcd0X_TwkXO4Wp6_TsZuEKA8if2ETnmxa55CmQNueEbYw3/s1600-h/Canada2009_0719_068med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4dtJefeFygMxcKzjkkOWR9dUY_EZETttnfyt5aldc_lq6s6XvUjNEeHc8jJco5A2GF5nfBrBsT4ebIH8lMejowo3lIlZr0WKcd0X_TwkXO4Wp6_TsZuEKA8if2ETnmxa55CmQNueEbYw3/s320/Canada2009_0719_068med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361783738946574290" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">However, when you live in a province that is a pastoral setting, I guess getting away from it all means going to Central Park New York. So in Saskatchewan, a Provincial Park is a place where they find a body of water, pave a road to it (so that the speed boats and jetskis can access it) chop down the natural vegetation, lay down sod and mow it. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66lIwhXWRIr4IOcxEubhyKaVE-owhBBZmo75rbOhwvs-0hG53ByVSaWxQS5WDfVrkJFKt0HiC6e_PMv6vgJ1GR7or-uFA5DgTqVhtthc0hnqUXvSVHrYJ-iDm8tDOjL22Ey4mhnBz-xxG/s1600-h/Canada2009_0722_021small.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66lIwhXWRIr4IOcxEubhyKaVE-owhBBZmo75rbOhwvs-0hG53ByVSaWxQS5WDfVrkJFKt0HiC6e_PMv6vgJ1GR7or-uFA5DgTqVhtthc0hnqUXvSVHrYJ-iDm8tDOjL22Ey4mhnBz-xxG/s200/Canada2009_0722_021small.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361784776866050338" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">It also must be lighted like a maximum security prison. For miles around there will be only darkness but the provincial park will have high mast-head cobrahead streetlights and washrooms where you could perform dental surgery. (If you visit the washrooms at night, your eyes are so snowblind that then you do need the streetlights to get back to your camp.)<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">It's 2:00AM, do you know<br />what your Westfalia is up to?</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MHH4-Z1AKn53tVIKnMyUZvg0R6B-EWdQP7vJ7jaOy2_d53xczv8EDn1RA6UFmxJ2X1g6zelLltO32FNj9J_WL4QSYXwODtLdnYsExAWUIdnYoWeIEzwSiVXb7FqPvg2UoxmNzkDoeyBz/s1600-h/Canada2009_0723_002med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MHH4-Z1AKn53tVIKnMyUZvg0R6B-EWdQP7vJ7jaOy2_d53xczv8EDn1RA6UFmxJ2X1g6zelLltO32FNj9J_WL4QSYXwODtLdnYsExAWUIdnYoWeIEzwSiVXb7FqPvg2UoxmNzkDoeyBz/s320/Canada2009_0723_002med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361774700480772786" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">not an abstract or a satellite view</span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">,<br />but a paint spill in a provincial park lake</span> </span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtNLvMHZ4UA2qSl8BBWDYAY-QWPxwD_fx3uaHIgQjCkFhhC8uJ8V9AW-mSGT6WwVj657nQp70nop6uqmuyWvXaS5Ge3y3u2hjvE9Uf1kLA55fgXs3N56dEMJ0caDAA5zp2_DTs5IIzmfk/s1600-h/Canada2009_0721_005med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtNLvMHZ4UA2qSl8BBWDYAY-QWPxwD_fx3uaHIgQjCkFhhC8uJ8V9AW-mSGT6WwVj657nQp70nop6uqmuyWvXaS5Ge3y3u2hjvE9Uf1kLA55fgXs3N56dEMJ0caDAA5zp2_DTs5IIzmfk/s320/Canada2009_0721_005med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361776200965286674" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Friggin' Gophers</span><br />As kids we had gerbils, so I tend to be kindly towards cute little rodents (Okay except for the rats in my house, but that's another story and they weren't cute). However, the gophers here are unbelievable. They dig under, around and up through anything. They undercut everything from gravestones to buildings. And it's really hard to concentrate on your standing bow-pulling pose when one tries to climb your leg. So here's one for the locals. I'm developing a definite attitude of gopher-overload.<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Straight up through the asphalt </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqrr5NDY1FW_yUcKe6okXDcT2Xq4lOFUrPQ1UDev4pvUo4W_-aztFgUO4R_1pXCR4kJumOKVC5TuJS77Uk19kQ7FzHpEAoWA_RRZuUqToWuBdfo13G21-nsfbYw6m3zA55S-ozoM5yDvt/s1600-h/Canada2009_0721_006med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqrr5NDY1FW_yUcKe6okXDcT2Xq4lOFUrPQ1UDev4pvUo4W_-aztFgUO4R_1pXCR4kJumOKVC5TuJS77Uk19kQ7FzHpEAoWA_RRZuUqToWuBdfo13G21-nsfbYw6m3zA55S-ozoM5yDvt/s320/Canada2009_0721_006med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361787625274662066" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfiqmZx2PBezDrcaR4kFAbaAZ3YBu3KSMDDaVF_8SCkFtM1FFzWUjv1DJcZ7jJeUWmq4AwBd_EYfavc2faqhGyeFPU32kNvgo1PR_WOSlN7xxSB5r9qWK5wArVQN4xfLNVposTmGK5XGj/s1600-h/Canada2009_0722_031med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfiqmZx2PBezDrcaR4kFAbaAZ3YBu3KSMDDaVF_8SCkFtM1FFzWUjv1DJcZ7jJeUWmq4AwBd_EYfavc2faqhGyeFPU32kNvgo1PR_WOSlN7xxSB5r9qWK5wArVQN4xfLNVposTmGK5XGj/s320/Canada2009_0722_031med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361785661554112850" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weird Names</span><br />I've discovered the fun game of finding weird prairie names on the map. It started with the list of entries for the rodeo. "Did the announcer really say that guy was from 'peepot Saskatchewan?'"<br /><br />So here goes... from the sublime to the ridiculous<br /><br />The pious:<br />Sceptre, Bounty, Salvador, Unity, Sanctuary etc, etc. (many in this category)<br /><br />The unlikely:<br />Marriot, Cadillac, Plato, Marquis<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">The somewhat braggartly:<br />Biggar, Major, Superb, Success, Renoun, Conquest, </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Climax </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />Those of somewhat lower self-esteem:<br />Canuck, Tiny, Tadmore, Findlater<br /><br />The almost offensive:<br />Foam lake, Piapot (just sounds like 'peepot'), Old Wives, and Big Beaver<br /><br />The weird:<br />Eyebrow,</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Hudson Bay (were they lost?),</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> East End (located in the West of the Province), West End (located in the East of the Province and also located next to Round Lake which is not round but is long and winding), </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Amazon and </span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Kandahar.<br /><br />Oh, and I almost forgot, but who could forget, "Forget, Saskatchewan"<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo8qUHsEz-BSwOJkQftMcrb0ioI_IJkH_bm44_Cug6oSdDD8_f_SG-7wTk8Y6LOUk-nZISsifIruHAFeKRmom6UrpILVrQS0g7_cLtarXTO45pEcUX_ik0M6r_WyRo5qHDBrFaoEZ7KlA/s1600-h/Canada2009_0716_077med.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo8qUHsEz-BSwOJkQftMcrb0ioI_IJkH_bm44_Cug6oSdDD8_f_SG-7wTk8Y6LOUk-nZISsifIruHAFeKRmom6UrpILVrQS0g7_cLtarXTO45pEcUX_ik0M6r_WyRo5qHDBrFaoEZ7KlA/s320/Canada2009_0716_077med.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361778789107731826" border="0" /></a>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1799475709851745240.post-63277225024611079952009-07-20T11:51:00.000-07:002010-01-14T16:18:59.839-08:00"Saskatchewan - Hard to Spell - Easy to Draw"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgj1LbErDKqYVk9dEEcC0jPLxvlkh-68DA93x8eiUETqkx9KyZriOGdMosuhwCMmvZMdgozsdXjzFQv7SlwXQtSeMay2XOSehuhFi5bacnS4Tx2BPdJh1TuijMo2ltN9ECvL-LBMTX1zS/s1600-h/Canada2009_0719_054a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 188px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxgj1LbErDKqYVk9dEEcC0jPLxvlkh-68DA93x8eiUETqkx9KyZriOGdMosuhwCMmvZMdgozsdXjzFQv7SlwXQtSeMay2XOSehuhFi5bacnS4Tx2BPdJh1TuijMo2ltN9ECvL-LBMTX1zS/s400/Canada2009_0719_054a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360645185408217666" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I wish I had thought of that saying, but as soon as you've been here you get it. I was hoping to be less wordy, but I'll try to include a few images with my wordiness this time. (Just a few, since the term "highspeed" internet, seems to have a different meaning in the prairies.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Saskatchewan Traffic Jam:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXQ_AwhbMF6lX30y9rMs4IbxjqY56FZu85U1BgM0mIjdAtwFrxYsTIftR9JHlfJU9QHptGhPVj2-8jitm654HYvYiuxVdSp-CHrIbDtSEb4vZfR5NBHY5fyZHVWcXPknHlUa0yZOSQ5b5/s1600-h/Canada2009_0717_131a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXQ_AwhbMF6lX30y9rMs4IbxjqY56FZu85U1BgM0mIjdAtwFrxYsTIftR9JHlfJU9QHptGhPVj2-8jitm654HYvYiuxVdSp-CHrIbDtSEb4vZfR5NBHY5fyZHVWcXPknHlUa0yZOSQ5b5/s320/Canada2009_0717_131a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360618987850161906" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">We spent 3 days living on the rodeo grounds at Shaunavon, SK during their "Boomtown Days." We were without running water, but were with wild horses, cowboys, dust, trailers, bulls and more dust. The water gave me a bellyache, but at least during the rodeo itself, they had both kinds of beer: Bud and Bud Light. Each day without a shower, my skin and hair would be covered by another layer of find amber dust, to which I'd add another layer of sunscreen. </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5nXytGsKW8njCtLRboZVjBAspjYiUjcYhn0z3WClqCmsqZWTz_G6vGcBq9mxty1MwpqwcaPlxhVVtxDsqtsrJ1M5k-Ez_tRVxERfvUymnTXl-0j07fDx1T0zpm2waSJfStz15qqOdnhL/s1600-h/Canada2009_0718_072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5nXytGsKW8njCtLRboZVjBAspjYiUjcYhn0z3WClqCmsqZWTz_G6vGcBq9mxty1MwpqwcaPlxhVVtxDsqtsrJ1M5k-Ez_tRVxERfvUymnTXl-0j07fDx1T0zpm2waSJfStz15qqOdnhL/s320/Canada2009_0718_072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360623149613860258" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">The people have been welcoming everywhere. Even the cowboys in their shy way. They have no trouble walking up to a bull and pushing it around, but they needed company and a beer (at 9:00 am "to wash down the coffee") to get the nerve to come up to us and politely ask us to move to a more appropriate location on the rodeo grounds. [Read: you're in the way.]</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5z0QHm6P9lcwW_HO8-PssylEAdTxZf6m0mJf-2DWB43MalB-_gxI9xpoK3xc_NuNbFBjd5c68IxwPokxOPte3ZIC2PRNIiG632iFzt8ePpzmr8HNoLoh-NRSLDvBExVaG1-Frh3Iq3dWN/s1600-h/Canada2009_0717_303a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5z0QHm6P9lcwW_HO8-PssylEAdTxZf6m0mJf-2DWB43MalB-_gxI9xpoK3xc_NuNbFBjd5c68IxwPokxOPte3ZIC2PRNIiG632iFzt8ePpzmr8HNoLoh-NRSLDvBExVaG1-Frh3Iq3dWN/s320/Canada2009_0717_303a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360624657680232082" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:verdana;">We went to a pancake breakfast and I'm looking forward to sending a postcard to one of my alternative healthcare providers that I'm living on white flour, refined sugar and meat. (It's hard to be vegetarian when you're living on the rodeo grounds.)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-23Yc-41_7L1tDpouw8yVTgwtDbsfCFQiSUMLC5xQE2o1eorv8r_mj08GN79u2j2T0tdCFk64KsTLBKnSJ1uX9DJ_8JMMbwv99UN9T75aBOfgdcF-bD4uMOsvuSCNxgYGfFX7EdKZJsDX/s1600-h/Canada2009_0716_062.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-23Yc-41_7L1tDpouw8yVTgwtDbsfCFQiSUMLC5xQE2o1eorv8r_mj08GN79u2j2T0tdCFk64KsTLBKnSJ1uX9DJ_8JMMbwv99UN9T75aBOfgdcF-bD4uMOsvuSCNxgYGfFX7EdKZJsDX/s320/Canada2009_0716_062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360629793368991426" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">We visited Old Man on His Back, the Nature Conservancy short grass prairie preserve set up by Sharon and Peter Butala. The caretaker at the visitors centre was practically part of the Butala family and has an adjacent farm that is currently growing organic feed grain. Her husband custom farmed the Butala property for 25 years before the Nature Conservancy purchased it, and for several years after as well as they discovered how to replant the indigenous grasses.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dark Green Ocean ("Oatsean"?):</span><br />We and woke up this morning in Grasslands National Park. The wind has been wonderfully incessant. The oat fields really do look like dark green oceans. </span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">(please excuse the poor video quality from my pocket camera, and the poor videography from being battered by the wind)</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKmKoGequzTWc42hU7cXjspFsgQlTFVtr4-SpJ1iUk_XUyl8TkdTjhR470lRKru0O8RUEmX_PKk24mSTmWJETEmgmAxnWCKilFzczvzm84Bw9kqvPg8RZCpf08NBAU727TT4gyiCkJkYl/s1600-h/IMGP0815a.JPG"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw_mYZUgawGGzWA26c2rDOF8QNGZunoHQl943WsJCuvIqN-0gcGXDiHSXdl7WUdDasOoxXt3Z3A4Y0HDaQZ2g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:verdana;" >Saskatchewan Butterfly Collection:</span><br /> <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKmKoGequzTWc42hU7cXjspFsgQlTFVtr4-SpJ1iUk_XUyl8TkdTjhR470lRKru0O8RUEmX_PKk24mSTmWJETEmgmAxnWCKilFzczvzm84Bw9kqvPg8RZCpf08NBAU727TT4gyiCkJkYl/s1600-h/IMGP0815a.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 126px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKmKoGequzTWc42hU7cXjspFsgQlTFVtr4-SpJ1iUk_XUyl8TkdTjhR470lRKru0O8RUEmX_PKk24mSTmWJETEmgmAxnWCKilFzczvzm84Bw9kqvPg8RZCpf08NBAU727TT4gyiCkJkYl/s400/IMGP0815a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360644465949606818" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">And I must add, yesterday we went through a small community called "Climax". As you enter the town there is a sign saying, "Welcome to Climax" and as you leave (I'm not making this up) it says, "Please come again."</span>Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00817414771150942229noreply@blogger.com1