Lisa and I had the kids over for a sleepover. They are so good. Copper and Scarlett have their own room with a bunkbed at our place. They feel at home. Lisa and I feel good about that.
They get up early in the morning. Lisa taped over the minute digits on the clock on the stove and told them they couldn’t get up until the hour digit said ‘6’, ‘7’, or ‘8’. They were up at 6.
Cooper standing beside a backroad mile sign corresponding with his age. This could be a family tradition.
We had breakfast up the creek. Pancakes and bacon.
The valley is busy.
Cooper and Scarlett are full of energy and they are constantly yaking. Sometimes I think they are purposely trying to drive old Grandpa crazy. Grandma, on the other hand, is unflappable and welcomes the spirited discourse.
They are celebrating their birthdays this month. They sure are getting big.
Scarlett pointing to her young age on a milage sign blasted by a shotgun.
The rising sun catches the ridge in the west. Dark storm clouds above, shaded valley bottom below. Taken about 6am from the garden.
Came through a good bit of rain. It was welcome. In the mountains it was snow.
We planned a trip into the high country last Wednesday, but postponed it to this coming Wednesday. The youngsters from work were disappointed. I didn’t welcome trudging through a foot of wet snow on the mountain side. The truth is I’d end up sliding on my ass coming down trying to dig my heels in yelling whoa!! It can be fun, but I’m too damn old for such hijinks. I didn’t want to lose face so told them the scenery would be better when it cleared.
The doe deer are busy with their fawns. A few days ago I freed a fawn that got caught in fencing. Today Jack shooed one from the pool court back to its mother. It was held up under patio furniture and was starting to gather quite a crowd of guests. Jack said he had done it plenty with lambs back in England. He is a good man that Jack.
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Some warm weather is expected. The recent rain has done its best to cool the bush. That’s more than we can ask.
Bog Orchid. Although common I have not seen this species for several years.
Lightening with plenty of rain, so not so bad. We have postponed a hiking trip with some youngsters from work, because of snow in the back country. They’ll enjoy it more with the sun shining on the blue glacier water and I will not have to slip and slide off the mountain in 12″ of wet snow. There was a time I wouldn’t have been dissuaded by weather. That day is long gone.
A good spell of rain put the grasshoppers on pause. The buggers got all of the carrots, beets and some of the lettuce.
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Skipped town early for the bush. Lisa and I fell a dead fir. Willow and Lola ran around while we knocked off branches and bucked it up.
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Cormac McCarthy passed away this past week. He wrote many good books. Suttree, No Country for Old Men, The Road, Blood Meridian and others.
When I read Child of God, I wondered how he could write it. How did someone, a loved one, tell him, you can’t write that.
It is in that space where conscience and violence takes hold, deep down, where truth dwells. Cormac McCarthy had a seat next to this other world and reported back in prose that could stun.
When I broke my leg I was higher than hell on morphine awaiting an operation. My sister Wynanne gave me a copy of All the Pretty Horses.
I read and reread until I could say it in a slurred voice:
They rode out along the fenceline and across the open pastureland. The leather creaked in the morning cold. They pushed the horses into a lope. The lights fell away behind them. They rode out on the high prairie where they slowed the horses to a walk and the stars swarmed around them out of the blackness. They heard somewhere in that tenantless night a bell that tolled and ceased where no bell was and they rode out on the round dais of the earth which alone was dark and no light to it and which carried their figures and bore them up into the swarming stars so that they rode not under but among them and they rode at once jaunty and circumspect, like thieves newly loosed in that dark electric, like young thieves in a glowing orchard, loosely jacketed against the cold and ten thousand worlds for the choosing.
***
I rarely get angry anymore. I’ve paid dearly for things I’ve said, but I stand by them all.
Recently my name came up at a District of Invermere (DOI) council meeting. Somebody had left an anonymous message in a Facebook post criticizing the Mayor and Council. They attributed it to me without proof.
It is true I have been critical of DOI council and the mayor on this blog. My name and email is beside everything I say. I give reasons for my criticism.
I despise anonymous comments and the people who leave them. They are seen everywhere on news sites. My feeling is, if you have something to say you put your name to it.
When I heard Mayor, Council and DOI staff were attributing critical anonymous comments to me I was pissed off.
I had a talk with one of the Councillors today. Of course getting to the bottom of who said what is like herding cats. The more I tried to shake him the further down his tongue went.
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The hot weather is picking up speed. It will be winter before long and the wood will come in handy.
A good walk in the morning. The Tiger Lillies are up. Birds all around, singing, but few I can see. Spotted a large pine tree down that would make good firewood.
The grasshoppers took another bite out of the garden. They are starting on the broccoli and cabbage. They have completely done away with the carrots, beets and most of the lettuce.The only defence I have against them is a spray of water. A scarce commodity in this town.
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As mentioned in earlier posts, The District of Invermere (DOI) is notorious for poor management. The town is struggling with water, sewer and road issues. For years infrastructure and District citizens have taken a backseat in favour of enticing tourism. Now, aging infrastructure is becoming hard to ignore. Dirty water, poor roads and untreated sewage discharged into Toby Creek is starting to cause problems. If it is only a problem for residents, DOI leaders wouldn’t care, now however, the problems may spill over and effect tourism.
***
What the DOI needs is Incompetence Insurance, if such a thing exists. It is true DOI rates would be high due to the level of incompetence exhibited in the past. However it still may be a worthwhile purchase for the citizens of DOI.
Here is an example of how it could come in handy:
A few years ago DOI hired a Public Works Manager. He was useless from the beginning. The District tried their best to get him comfortable in the position, but it was not to be. They had to fire him and paid out a large severance package to do so.
After he was fired, I had to drive him to Cranbrook. He had a new job. After an hour in the truck with him I knew this guy was as useless as tit’s on a bull and full of shit regarding his credentials. He had some education, but was daft in every other way.
I never could understand why DOI HR didn’t see through his bullshit in what must have been an extensive interview process.
As it turns out another government agency hired his sorry ass and have been regretting it ever since.
Now, getting back to the point, the Incompetence Insurance could have been used to pay for the mistake of hiring the dimwit and paying his salary and the handsome severance package he walked away with.
***
Of course I am being facetious. There is no such insurance.
***
It is the same everywhere. Big government or small seems to be populated by A type ambitious arseholes who get what they want and disappear leaving their shit behind for everyone else to clean up.
These are the people we entrust to do their best in our interest.
The greedy grasshoppers are harmless in comparison, even comical, jumping this way and that.
Lisa and I were out looking for orchids a few days ago. Over the years we have found places where these wild flowers grow. It is always special when we find new spots with flowers.
The season is short for most orchids making when to look as important as where.
This is an excerpt from Orchids of British Columbia by AF Szczawinski published in 1959:
“The orchid family is unusual among the higher plants for a good many reasons, such as extreme variation, highly specialized flowers, and a great range of habitat. It is interesting that the number of seeds produced in a single capsule is, in many cases phenomenal. A count made at the Greenwich Observatory, England, showed that a capsule contained 3,770,000 microscopic seeds.”
“Unless the conditions of temperature, moisture, soil and shelter are ideal, failure for the seedlings is certain. There is only one chance in thousands that such conditions will occur. If only a small percentage of the seeds from each plant could grow to maturity, orchids would be as common as grass.”
***
We have been overrun by grasshoppers. The garden has taken a beating. They seem to go after the youngest plants first effectively killing them. There are other plants they don’t seem to be bothered with such as peas.
The grasshoppers are small and growing. I could use a herd of turkeys to take care of these buggers. Perhaps I should figure out a way to trap them and deep fry them, smother them with seasoning and sell them at the farmers market. Dirty Bob’s Spicy Grasshopper Crunch. It could be a hit.
The art show I was included in at CV Arts is now over. I went down and picked up my prints. Lisa and I had many kind comments about the pictures we chose to be part of the exhibit.
I want to thank everyone who stopped by, especially all of my family and friends who came to the opening. I am very uncomfortable in group settings and they made it bearable. Special thanks to Deb, Kurt and Brian for providing the wonderful music. Also thanks to CV Arts for allowing me to show.
Having never taken part in an exhibit like this it proved to be a learning experience. None of the photos sold, which was disappointing to me and also the managers of CV Arts. I would have liked to see them get some of their money back for hosting the exhibit.
The photos Lisa and I picked were closer to ‘fine art’ then most photos I take. We thought they would fit what CV Arts was looking for. The truth is I am not much a fan of fine art photography nor do I think I do it well. My composition is usually off and my processing and printing leaves much to be desired.
I prefer documentary style photography. There are many documentary photographers I admire. My Mother Isabelle was a fine documentary photographer. Most of the photos I produce are in this style. It may be the return of The Milky Way in February, a meteor shower or a conjunction of planets that is the subject and time I am trying to capture. They are often poorly processed and composed.
One of my favourite photos I included in the exhibit was of The Sacred Heat Church that is located on the Akisqnuk First Nation Reserve. The church is dilapidated. The door is open a crack and there is a set of footprints leading up the stairs in the snow.The sky is blue signifying morning. A telephone pole, crooked (bad composition) with a wire connected to the church with The Milky Way in the background. This photo is a testament of the role the Catholic Church has played in First Nation communities and an example of document photography. It is not fine art, nor would any one want to hang it in their house or cabin as a reminder of the atrocities the church has played in Canada and indigenous people.
I would like to say the show was a success, and in a way it was, my kids and grandkids got to see me in a different light. However, it was expensive and opening night was nerve racking. Will I exhibit in such a manner again; probably not.
It would be nice to make some money from photography, but it is far down the list of why I enjoy it. It is the getting out, seeing the stars, flowers or mountains and bringing a little piece home. Often I see something I hadn’t noticed when I clicked the shutter.
When my father lay dying I would bring him small pieces of the forest, a rock or a huckleberry blossom, something to remind him where his soul yearned to be, beyond his bed and walls, in the place he loved so much.
Nowadays, I do it with photos, but they are for me, my family, a few friends and anybody else who sees it that way. After all we are all going to get there sometime and need reminding.
It sounds lofty, but it isn’t, self gratifying; absolutely – it ain’t art, it’s a document.
Quick trip into the big city. We left early and the three hours went by quick with us chatting and the traffic lite. The smoke from the forest fires wasn’t too bad.
We hit Costco. We had shopping lists for four families. It went surprisingly smooth and didn’t have to wait at check out.
I bought a couple of Lavender and Barberry bushes at about the third the price I could get them at home. Then we fuelled up with the cheapest gas in Canada. Albertans love to bitch, but they don’t know how good they have it. Not that I’d ever trade places.
Now I just have to figure out where to put those Barberry and Lavender bushes.
***
Lisa had her appointment and we stopped at a mall so she could find a dress for a summer wedding we are invited to.
Looking for the dress took longer than Costco and the appointment put together. I walked around the mall looking through windows, but not going in. I saw Louis C.K. working at Sporting Life at the South Centre Mall. He was taller than he looks on TV. But it was him, sure as hell.
Lisa found a wonderful bright pant suit and colourful top. A summer ensemble. She looks gorgeous in it. Now I’m feeling bad for her, because I am going to look shabby on her arm.
***
The way home was a steady stream of traffic with every kind of driver. I like to hang back and give the impatient plenty of room in case they have to dodge in on the two lane highway through Kootenay National Park. There was a few times I felt like closing the gap and leave them hanging out there in oncoming traffic, but that wouldn’t be good for anybody.
***
When we were home and unloaded, I checked the garden. Perhaps it was the walk stretching my legs. I had a twelve second fart that broke the quiet of the evening. Even the birds stopped chirping and were struck with awe. A few neighbours came out and looked skyward. I had been travelling in the truck all day with Lisa and it built up. I was impressed I still had it in me.
Plenty of rain but it won’t be enough. God nows where the falling rain goes. Here we are at the headwaters with Stripped Turtles, Herons, Fossils, Native Fish, where not much changes. Sure we can bitch, compared to the rest of humanity we have it better. Who am I not to enjoy it.
The good neighbour Larry always gives me some plants. He starts them inside starting in February. To say he has a green thumb is an understatement.
I also start a few plants in March. When I have one or two that don’t look like they are going to make it, I let them convalesce at Larrys, and he breaths life back into them. It is like a spa for plants.
The plants he gives me must feel bad, because they go from a perfect environment to where they must survive.
‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen,’ he says, is my motto.
Palliser Pass 