late July wedding

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Smokey skies but nothing like last year at this time. There s a few fires burning close by. The garden is bone dry and I’m up late trying to get some water on it with a hose and antique cast sprinkler. It is low and does a good job.

Lisa and I photographed a wedding today. It has been awhile since we have done one. We used to do a lot. We were very good at it. We both like doing them. Some photographers dislike doing them, thinking they should be shooting for National Geographic instead. I always felt we were documenting the start of the Bride and Grooms family history. Someday the pictures would be looked at by their grandkids. We wanted them to see the day as it was. The love, the awkwardness at times, the heat or cold and their friends and family. We also wanted to show their connection to the land and each other.

Like I said it’s been awhile but it was like riding a bike. Lisa didn’t miss a shot during the ceremony and moved things along during the portraits making sure the kids and elderly were done first so they could seek shade.

It all came back in a hurry. The beautiful couple with their two small kids was dearly in love. We were honoured to document and share their day. The endeared themselves to Lisa and I when they confessed their rings cost $13 each on Etsy.

Talking about being in love. Hunter and Bree are out from Calgary. I cooked a few steaks on the BBQ with fresh potatoes, carrots and squash from the garden. It was a feast. It is good to have them out.

The valley is busy. Plenty of traffic. Crazy drivers. All in a hurry to have fun. Ambulances going out all day and medic helicopters coming in to take the wounded back to Calgary.

I am getting used to it as I get older. There was a time everything about the crowds burned my ass. Now I’m glad they stay shopping in the valley bottom. There is still plenty of room on the backroads.

The moon is bright same as mars. Very fine day.

visiter appreciation day

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We escaped the ruck of the crowd and disappeared down the Kootenay, then later followed Rock Creek up a ways. We were on the look out for firewood and a few rocks for the garden border.

The firewood came easy. Deadfalls from last summer. Pine off the ground, tangled from a mighty windstorm. It was a simple cut and march to the truck.

Up the creek we picked rocks. Flat and long. It is extraordinary how nature places them perfectly, so pleasing to the eye, beside the running water. Not a single one out of place.

The stars, creeks and rocks remind us of something greater. To be without them for long is difficult.

We returned in the afternoon with a full load. The town had calmed down. Everyone was well fed and shopped out. The plan worked perfectly.

Palliser

RCE_0479 Yellow Columbine.

Lisa and I were kindly invited to the 15th Anniversary gathering of a business we once owned.

We started Palliser Printing & Publishing in 1986. Lisa and I were in our early twenties with a baby on the way.

We sold the company in the summer of ’03 to Dee and Rod Conklin from Calgary.

Their 15th Anniversary has made me reminisce about the early days of the company.

I remember it being a lot of long hours and hard work.

The print shop was a mess of paper, presses, photocopiers, computers, an old arc plate burner, a darkroom complete with vertical camera for composing film, to later, be stripped on one of the several light tables. The smell of ink was always in the air. We survived a fire and a flash flood. Not unscathed, but we survived.

Later we moved to better quarters. For every step forward we made, we were never sure how we were going to pay for it. It is like the old saying, ‘build your parachute while falling to earth.’

Often we had bills at the end of the month that exceeded our bank account. The poorest we ever were was when we were the busiest. We juggled.

Yet, our children came to work with us. They had a place to play in the back shop. A cozy couch. They helped out. Built forts in the broken down cardboard.

The business was lucrative enough to allow us to buy a house. Our kids were in figure skating, dance and hockey. We were able to afford dental care for them.

Sometimes it was a balancing act. Lisa often worked the front with a baby on her hip. I always felt bad about that. There is no maternity leave when you own the business.

We were lucky. Since then I’ve worked at a few places. We have never made what it would take to raise a family at todays prices. Not even close.

Everything we have is because of that first business we started when Kelsie was in Lisa’s belly. When things seemed to be changing in a flash. When I had plenty of youth, energy and anger to see any job through.

Now it’s different. Those were good days. Now I’m glad to be a Grandpa making minimum wage, crossing logs gingerly, tilting glasses and nodding head to read the fine type.

Congratulations to Dee and Rod on their 15th Anniversary owning Palliser.

July 5th

_LME7786-Pano_sm The Big Dipper is up there among the stars.

Someone once asked me if I’ve ever seen things that go bump in the night. They knew I spent time in the dark. I told them about the time one November it dropped down to minus 30 and the birch and spruce started going off like gunshots. That wasn’t what they were looking for.

I look for ghosts all over. Usually they show up in the rivers and streams. They don’t say much. I listen to the babble of the creek, but I can’t make heads or tails out of it. Still I know they are trying to tell me something. I appreciate the effort but I don’t get it.

_LME7782-Pano_sm Mars, Saturn and Jupiter.

My good dog Willow would bark if something was threatening. That’s why I like dark nights down by the water. The only sound she makes is snorting through the long grass.

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***

It was my Mother’s birthday yesterday. I visited her early this morning. I wonder about her everyday. How hard she had to work. She was born into a world where women were subservient. Yet she became a respected women that didn’t back down from men who tried to bully. She didn’t even blame them for it. She considered them pitiful.

She accomplished it after growing up poor and hard, without education. There wasn’t a book she hadn’t read or couldn’t discuss. She saw a lot. She kept the hardship to herself.

unnamed-2 Isabelle and Wynanne.

My Mother was a smart beautiful women. I wonder sometimes if she ever looked at the bearded man across from her who seemed happy with the long hours and not much, the broken washing machine and the ragged kids scooting about, and thought, cripes what did I do to deserve this?

She would laugh at that. She used to laugh at everything.

a rainy start to summer

_LME7756sm Willow’s smile.

Very fine day to wrap up the long weekend. Most of it was spent in the shop/studio wrapping up loose ends. Because it’s a holiday there wasn’t many texts coming in. Nowadays, everybody expects texts to be answered right away. I try my best to oblige, but it takes me away from actual work. Today I made some progress.

It rained most of the day. I kept the door open, so Willow and I could enjoy it. With luck it will help minimize the forest fire danger. It was especially welcome this weekend when the bush is filled with revellers lighting large camp fires and setting off fireworks. Not that they are the biggest threat, the only forest fires this year have been started by loggers.

***

_LME7730 Babies Breath above the graves.

In the evening Willow and I set off for the bush. There is a special calm after a raucous long weekend. First we went to Windermere to the old graveyard. I promised I would say hi to Mom and Dad.

Windermere is a strange town now. It was one of the first communities in the Valley. The few historical sites that remain are surrounded by huge second homes (cabins they are called by their owners) that are occupied only six weeks a year. The town is 80% populated by second home owners. The school has remained open only by offering special programs that appeal to families throughout the valley. Otherwise it would have been closed long ago.

This is one of the weekends the second homes are occupied. I got some dirty looks driving toward the graveyard. My pick up didn’t fit in with the Cadillac SUV’s and Beamers. Plus my licence plate was the wrong colour. For all they knew I could have been casing the place.

Walking the rows between the old names. There was the Fishers, Crooks, Tegarts, Kimptons, Youngs and plenty others dating back to the 1800’s. There was also Bingo, the Best Darn Dog in the Land. Dug recently.

My Grandfather once owned a strip of land from the highway all the way down to the graveyard. It didn’t have a drop of water. The land wasn’t worth spit. They had a ditch from Windermere Creek they got their water and irrigated the gardens. It must have only been a trickle during summer. They raised turkeys and chickens and sold vegetables. It wasn’t easy. Long after my Grandfather sold, the land was bought and subdivided by a developer. It is now covered in large houses overlooking Lake Windermere. People that never have a thought of what came before.

***

_LME7743 Indian Paintbrush.

After that Willow and I headed for the hills. The looks we got leaving were not as bad.

Once in the bush, the rain falling, we finally felt ourselves.

_LME7761 Wood Lily.

late June

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There is only two things to do on Canada Day weekend. You can either get out of town, deep into the bush, or stay hunkered down at home, don’t even try to go out and get a coffee, or beer or groceries or anything else. All the locals know it. The area is taken over by revellers from the city. We’re told we need them. I certainly can’t blame them for trying to escape the city. Most have manners, but some are hell bent on partying and tearing the shit out of the countryside and waterways. The latter all have big toys, four wheel drives, ATV’s and loud motorboats. The business people jack up the prices on everything from a loaf of bread to a litre of gas. This is the good time, they say.

We have elected to stay hunkered down. The garden needs weeding. Lisa is going to pickle the garlic scapes. I am looking forward to cracking a jar in the winter. They are going to be good. So good I probably won’t be able to stand myself.

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Willow will miss the bush this weekend but she will have plenty to bark about around here. Yesterday, she caught a young bird in the garden. She killed it, of course. Once I clued in to what was going on I stopped her from eating the small bird. She wasn’t happy with me. My old Wire-Haired, Slinky, was a master hunter, unlike rodents birds never agreed with her upsetting her stomach until she purged herself and vomited feathers. Willow is much more delicate than Slinky so I didn’t want to take a chance. There is nothing worse waking up to the sound of a dog trying to get something up.

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Thinking of Slinky, this was her least favourite weekend. All the Canada Day fireworks scared her. We would try to spend most of these weekends in the bush, so she wouldn’t have to put up with it. Willow on the other hand can sleep through thunderstorms and fireworks.

slink Slinky. Scraped or not never slowed down.

A good rain today. The garden is coming. I got the foot long grass mowed before the skies opened up. I am hoping all the moisture will be good for the huckleberry crop. Cooper loves huckleberry jam and he is depending on me.

weekend news

Lisa and I returned home this evening after spending a wonderful time with our children and grandchildren. We had a big family gathering and celebrated Tom, Cooper and Scarlett’s birthdays, all falling within just a few days of each other. It pleases Lisa and I so much to see our children happy and healthy in the lives they have made for themselves. It also pleases us to see how close they are with each other in adulthood. They are good people.

Lisa and I spent a lot of time with Cooper and Scarlett. Such gentle souls, yet both, even at years 3 and 1, filled with humour and mischievousness.

Driving home today I commented on a radio news story about public unions. I started to tell Lisa what I thought of them. Lisa listened until I was finished and then remarked, the further away from Cooper and Scarlett the crankier I was getting! That made us both laugh.

***

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On arriving home it was clear we have had plenty of rain and wind. The grass needs mowing. The wind has bent the plants in the garden and shredded the flower pots. The rain has made everything spring up, including the weeds. The lettuce is going crazy and we won’t be able to eat it fast enough.

On the way out of Calgary we stopped at Costco. I bought tuna, olives, feta, chicken and olive oil. Things that can be thrown in a bowl of greens to make a meal. The kind of meal you wish for in winter but don’t have.

***

While in the city I picked up a copy of The New York Times Sunday edition. Not that I need more American news that dominates every source here in Canada.

News is troubling. Not just the content, but how it is delivered.

I prefer newspapers. But I’m told they are going out of style! I like the long stories, the headlines and design. The quest for truth, even if the truth hurts advertising dollars.

I’m not sure if this kind of journalism exists anymore, in newspapers or anywhere else where information is used to push an agenda.

It could be the era we live in, the mix, the way the news is delivered. How truth is bent by the, almost always, editorialization that is contained in the delivery. It becomes a message instead of an unbiased report.

Both the left and right, American and Canadian news sources are guilty.

Like decades before the best bet is getting news from plenty of sources. Doing so, makes the bullshit stand out. If reading the news confirms your own beliefs you are probably being played.

Lisa and I are getting older. Our sense is dwindling right along with the longevity of newspapers. Soon we will have trouble knowing the truth. We will be ripe to be scammed. The scam hasn’t been thought of yet, but it will be brilliant in it’s simplicity.

***

With that said, I’m looking forward to the Book Review, the magazine and all the articles that can only by found in a weekend newspaper.

mountain lady’s slipper

Willow and I made time after supper for a run behind Swansea. She ran rampant, smelling rabbits on her tongue. I poked around looked for blossoms and signs to confirm it was indeed the middle of June.

Work is good and plenty of it at this time of year. Lisa and I were side by side today hammering the computers. It feels good to be back in business for ourselves again.

There was a time I could put in 16 hour days, even longer sometimes, sometimes even with a couple beer under my belt, but not now. Occasionally, I wish I still possessed that focus, most of the time I’m glad I don’t, it can catch up to you.

It feels good to be making practical things, not art or anything magnificent, but products that make peoples lives easier or happier. That’s what we are good at, working, putting our noses to the grindstone. Nothing more, but more than enough.

Was up early this morning. Mars was blazing over the lake. Right now Mars is close to Earth in our respective orbits around the sun. How close is Mars? It is so close, Willow stood up and barked at Rover.

Boooooo!

stripped down

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Willow has now been properly stripped. Lisa and I held her in place and pulled out all the loose hair. Now she looks like a smooth Dachshund with furry paws and a terriers face.

Willow doesn’t like getting stripped or having her nails cut. It is a bit of a wrestling match and it is important she knows she is going to have it done even if she doesn’t like it. It is usually me who is the bad guy in these situations. It’s funny, because she seems to forget any hostilities right after, and we go back to being the best of friends.

Willow does enjoy a bath though. I am sure she would jump in Lisa’s bath at the first hint of an invitation. I tell Willow not to feel bad, Lisa banned me from her bath a long time ago when I started displacing too much water.

***

The garden is coming along. It’s been chilly the last week. Rain on and off. The tomatoes look stunted. The lettuce and mustard greens are chugging along and we can’t eat them or give them away fast enough. Mid winter, I often think, I’d die for a spring salad. Now they are so plentiful. I’m thinking to save time, I might just go out to the garden and get down on my hands and knees and munch the leaves right down to the soil. It would save time picking, washing and putting on dressing. I could always chug some olive oil and lemon juice later if I was left wanting.

The garlic scapes are coming ready and we have been enjoying quite a few. They are humdingers – hot and spicy! Delicious raw! While I lay in bed last night I thought, shit, I’ve overdone it on the garlic.

***

While driving over the overpass today I saw an old guy on the sidewalk. He was walking slow, shuffling like he was on a patch of ice. He had a hundred yards of sidewalk in either direction before he could rest. Cars whizzing by. He was on his own.

I figure somebody, maybe even a doctor, told him to get out and get some exercise. He figured he walked the overpass plenty of times before, so he set out. He was dressed nice. He looked like a tourist or second home owner.

I worried for him. Not because he looked shaky, but because he looked like he didn’t have a purpose. Going for a walk is never enough. It’s better to be out checking the height of the river, the progress of bulldozers building a dyke or the next condominiums, or the species of birds landing on the wetlands, all the while contemplating a desire to walk the liquor store isles, pushing the need to collect bottles and cans to pay for another snort. And then another walk in the spring sun admiring the girls wearing less.

Or something like that.

***

Willow seems small without her wire hair. She better get her shit together and grow it back in a hurry. . . at least before winter.

a little to burn

Paintbrush

Cool today with some wind and rain on and off. Perfect for splitting wood. I had about a cord of fir and pine that Lisa and I cut last fall that still needed splitting. It was windblown last summer and wasn’t ready to be used last winter. Lisa and I always like to be a year ahead with firewood.

Cooper would have enjoyed working outside at the woodpile. He even has a small axe that he uses under my supervision, when his mother and grandmother don’t hide it. Lisa and I made and sent him a video. While stacking the wood I put an old desk in the woodpile so he and I can sit at it during the winter and have lunch. Lisa says it’s my new office. I told her, why not, I can even get wifi out there!

***

I remember hearing a Los Angeles right-wing, comedian, pundit, celebrity talking about how busy the LA Freeways are and how difficult it is to go anywhere. He said, he wished they would raise the price of gas to $10 a gallon (expensive for the US, we are almost already there in Canada). His reasoning was it would get most people off the freeway and he could get to his appointments in peace. A price well worth paying he mused. I appreciated his candor, he was honest and probably correct. That doesn’t mean he isn’t an entitled dipshit.

***

Lisa and I have an Instagram account for our business. Instagram is an interesting platform in the social media world. Young people love it. It’s like putting up your greatest hits.

We had a young photographer ‘like’ one of our posts. I went to his Instagram page, he was an exceptional photographer. Under one of his photographs he wrote about preserving the natural world and how we must do everything in our power to kill the Trans Mountain Pipeline. Several other, equally talented photographers, left comments agreeing the oil has to stay in the ground. I don’t necessarily disagree.

I poked around their Instagram posts. Their photos were taken with expensive high quality mirrorless lightweight cameras, with lenses costing thousands of dollars. I noticed some of the photos were taken in Iceland, South America, Nepal, Greece, Alaska, Austria and Asia.

It occurred to me, these young people will never miss a plane ride, safari or travel adventure regardless if the Trans Canada Pipeline is killed or not, or if all the oil in Alberta is left in the ground. Their lives will not change. They will never miss a truck ride or sleep in the cold when they choose not to. The freeway, for them, will just be less crowded.

These are the folks that scare me. I’ve always thought their isn’t much difference between the elite ‘left’ and the elite ‘right’. They both have second homes and the same travel plans.

For Lisa and I, we will be sleeping closer to the fire as we age, trying to stay warm. I am hoping Cooper won’t be sick of us when he gets older and still wants to come out to help with the woodpile.

I also hope, as selfish as this may sound considering the climate, I can still afford a few gallons of gas to escape the ruck of the crowd and deliver me to the wild orchids and dark sky stars that lie beyond the valley bottom.

If they shut down the oil sands and decommission the pipelines, perhaps I’ll dig it up myself.

Palliser Pass

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