My Love/Hate Relationship with FB

No posts here since Sept 11th…wow! Where does the time go?
I've only written 3 entries since then on AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS. Where have I been?

On that time-sucker Facebook, that's where.

Since my last entry I've been involved in a lot of "real life" stuff; really I have.

I've been stared at by Maya, a lot

I came across this little Stonehenge at one of my fave places
at the beach…AND, I repositioned 3 that had toppled over.
A man is holding back his kid from throwing stuff at it as I take the picture.
I don't know just how long others resisted the urge to destroy it.

Just last Saturday I went skating at the Empress.
The new owners have erected this tent which takes up one half
of the front lawn. You can rent skates, hats and gloves. The far end
is open to the view of the harbour. No stale, sweaty, mildewy arena smell here!

View from the outside, very festive.
They have music and hot chocolate and treats at reasonable prices.

I've had earth-shattering, life-changing thoughts; realizations worth sharing with the world. But…there's FB. Little "dings" emanate from my phone at random moments. Someone's out there reaching out, seeking connection with you. Come on, just check it out. You know you want to, you're soooo far away…

And, I'm snared. Just see what family and friends from all over the world are up to, have a "conversation" with them through comments, share a tidbit from your life, post a pic or 2. In the shake of a rabbit's tail you'll be done.

HA, ya right!?

I get sucked into the world of FB and I become less discriminate as the minutes tick by. Tick, tick, tick. Initially, friends' shares and comments link me to informative videos and newspaper articles. I get involved too! I sign petitions; I share them embellished with my own comments. I don't donate. One could go broke with the number of sites out there begging for donations. But, I'm proudly, socially informed, responsible and engaged, for a while…

Gradually, usually while I'm reading up on crucial news-rich entries of the day, my eyes begin to wander to the great supplier of brain candy; the sidebar. Little snippets caught at the corner of my eye begin to gnaw at my innards until, suddenly, I can't stand it anymore, I JUST HAVE TO KNOW. I HAVE TO KNOW about: the 10 Celebrities' Faces Most Botched Up From Plastic Surgeries, Celebrities Who You Didn't Know Were Related, Celebrities Who Live In Modest Homes Despite Having Millions, "Celebrities" doing or being this or that…

Educational nature, environmental and science entries supplied by my most learned, scholarly, friends, somehow have shifted over into the realm of cute animal videos: dancing penguins, piano playing cats, talking dogs, until the witching hour descends upon the members of my own animal kingdom - Flippy and Maya. Leaprotic* frenzy breaks out all around me, stirring me out of my FB-induced stupor.

I pull down the task bar. It's closing in on 1 a.m. and, though tired, I can barely pull myself away from the clutches of this most engrossing material.

Well, no more! 

After reading a discussion between 2 very creative friends about FB, on FB last night, I vowed to follow their lead. I'm pulling back, people!

30 minutes allowed today. I set my timer. Dig in and scroll down. 30 minutes; time is precious. I read only the most compelling entries. I comment on a selected few. I share only 3 items, my original limit when I first got on FB but which has since grown over time to 8 or more entries per day.

My phone glows as I write this. The latest FB comment directed to me appears on the screen. A thank you, I think, sent in response to a Happy Birthday message I'd sent to her. Does this glancing count as time used. I didn't enter into FB to get the info from FB, it just came…hmmm. 

A scant few moments after I'd signed off with…Damn! I was just about to check the exact wording that I'd used on FB, by going in but I'm going to resist. Let's try this again.

A scant few moments after I'd signed off on my status, to the effect that, I'd reached the quota I'd set for myself today, so I'm done; my longest-time friend (who's on vacation in Mexico…so far away but she's connecting with me) made some comments. I know this cus the screen on my phone glowed, it "dinged" and I caught a glimpse of the text, just enough to know it was from her but not what her comments were about, before it timed out and the message disappeared.

Oh, the temptation!

But I'm NOT BITING.

I'm not even going to post this til tomorrow.

"TAKE THAT FB!"

"Ya, we'll see how long this lasts!"

Who said that?

*       *       *

Follow up: It's now going on for 3 p.m. ( I know it says 6p.m., haven't figured out how to change the settings from Eastern Standard to Pacific time) the next day and I haven't gotten onto FB despite the fact that 19 messages await me. Another just came in, dropped it's way into the screen on my phone. 

This post will be one of my "shares" for the day so I needed to wait til I'm ready. Ready, here I go.

_____________________________________________________________________________

* LEAPROSY - Cats display a penchant for LEAPROSY - not to be confused with leprosy. One moment they are lazing around as only cats can and suddenly, as if a bee has bitten their butt, they jump up and as if possessed run around in fits and starts. This usually occurs at about the same time each day or night, depending on your cat. In Maya's case leaprosy hits just after we have gone to bed. She announces it with a brrritt, brrritt sound followed by stampeding through the house, bashing things about along the way, eventually pounding her little cat feet and skidding around the corner into my room, leaping onto my bed, running over my body, then catapulting herself (very appropriate for a cat to do) off of it to tear around the apartment again. An episode of leaprosy ends just as quickly as it begins with a sudden stop, and a look comes over their face (like you get when you way into a room and have forgotten just why you came in) followed with consolation bathing ( for the cat, not us, though this would be a good idea.)
INFO here taken and adapted from the original post NANCE'S WORD EMPORIUM

LIVIN' THE DREAM

 

Have you ever noticed that the TV show HOUSE HUNTERS INTERNATIONAL revisits people who have made big moves within the first 6 months of their relocation? Have you ever wondered, why that is? They're still in the honeymoon phase of a major life passage. After that, reality sinks in. OMG we really did it yippee turns to OMG we really did it…what now?

These episodes always end with one last visit with the newcomers. It's the classic house party scenario.  Ah yes, our intrepid newcomer(s) graciously ply a kitchen full of chic, new-found, fast friends with their own hand-made gourmet hors d'oeuvres creations as we say goodbye to them with best wishes for a happy and prosperous future.

Well, it's a year now and no new found friends are pounding on my door for a snack let alone a 6 course meal. Dang, and we bought our first dining room table and chairs for just such occasions.*

As the excitement of newness wears off, we discover that we are the same people who we were before the move. Despite claims that we want change, we tend to gravitate towards habitual ways of being and seeing life. But our surroundings and all that supported those old ways has fallen away and we're adrift and the stress begins to show (stress is a natural state experienced as we try and achieve homeostasis in response to change whether that change is desired or other). It's a painful process that dawns on us that we can't live in another vastly different area without the veneer of our old life peeling away.

I'm not disappointed that we made the move, not at all. I love it here! We live in one of the most beautiful areas in Canada with so much to offer. All one has to do is walk out the door. People say they've heard that it's expensive to live here. It can be. But so much is free or costs little - it's in nature all around us. The other night a new friend (also a Shiatsu Therapist) and I sat at the bluffs overlooking Ogden Point chatting over a picnic dinner and beer while witnessing a golden sunset and, just a few days later, a long time yoga friend and I swam all by ourselves at a local seaside beach a mere 30 minute drive from our apartment.

It's these little things that ingratiate me to the place, not big sweeping changes, grand ideals, and aspirations.

Though born and raised in Ontario I always felt like a fish out of water there. When my much younger self came west in the '70's the land and the sensibilities of the people welcomed me "home". Problem is that by the mid '80's the island spit me out, as they are wont to do, if one isn't suited to take root.

I cried so profusely on the plane trip back to Ontario that people thought someone had died.

In a way someone had.

I slipped back into Ontario Girl's skin, adapted to the demands of living there, reconnected with childhood friends, met my future husband within a week of my arrival, thrived and grew through major life challenges but my soul could never settle in, my spiritual home remained in the west.

Last year I brought my ambitious, driven-self, back here. Armed with a bag of skills honed in Ontario I was ready and rarin' to go. I would finally have the career I've dreamed of, studied for, and worked towards for so long. I hit the ground running setting up wildly successful, exciting (and profitable) dreamcircles, workshops and events… only to discover that I'm in a time warp. Manifestation is lagging behind the  powers of my imagination.

My Ontario persona wasn't ready for this. Shock, anxiety and disappointment hit with a vengeance; old insecurities reared their ugly heads.

What MUST I do to change this? Ontario Woman demanded.

OSHO Zen Tarot -" Creativity is the quality

you bring to the activity you are doing."

Journal writing & sketching

© Nance Thacker 2014

And then festival season came upon us.

Everyone is out and about enjoying themselves. Even the in-demand, prosperous and profuse population of psychics are twiddling their thumbs. The message? SURRENDER to what is, throw up my hands, give up for the time being and join in. Get reacquainted with "Island Girl", the one I'd left behind 27 years ago.

As I settle back into her skin my time-pressured, goal driven, hyper, anxious Ontario self is falling away and I'm feeling more myself. Gone is the pervasive background buzzing that had insidiously wormed its way into my nervous system over the past decades to such an extent that I it became part of "me". A transmutation is taking place as positive aspects of both my Ontario and BC selves merge.

I'm feeling more rooted than before; considering planting different seeds but now with an attitude of water them, till the soil and see what sprouts. Very west coast I must say. And, so that is what I must do. It's all up for grabs.

Other newcomers say it takes 2 years to adjust to pulling up roots and relocating to a new place. What will have transpired by this time next year when the metamorphosis is "complete"?

I greet the future with a sense of curiosity; discovering Island Woman.

* Since beginning this piece our in-laws - father, mother, sister and brother - have visited and we finally got to use the table - yea!!!

Festival time on the Island

HELLOOOO AGAIN…

I'm going to ramble so keep with the program.

It's been a long time since my last post. The end of April marks the beginning of tourist and festival season here on Vancouver Island.

Yoga gathering on the lawn in front of the Legislative Buildings,
at the inner harbour Victoria on a lovely June summer night.
I don't recommend yoga in jeans after an iced coffee.
Had I borrowed one of their mats I could have gotten to keep it, dang!
My mat's older than most of the other yogis there

Ah yes - festivities; people out here love to party! Victoria is a festival city. We celebrate life, food, culture and our good fortune to be able to live here. So I've resigned myself to put other work and workshop plans aside, throw up my hands and join in :-) Not too hard to do. There will be time for leading dream workshops, dream circles and shiatsu treatments when the fall/winter season hits.

GAY PRIDE PARADE - festivities were in our neighbourhood. Great: fun, food and music! We walked out our door to see the celebrants pass by on our way to the Tibetan Festival where we sampled Tibetan food, sang happy birthday to the Dali Lama, meditated and I learned a traditional dance. Then we came back to the Pride Festival for music and more fun.

Festivities and protest go hand in hand here.
We are passionate about protecting the earth.
How can you not be when natural beauty is all around you!?

A beautiful fairie!

The end of the parade heading to the fair grounds for more celebrations.

I heard tell that some of the tour carriages were saying that this is a typical day in Victoria. LOL

There's still so much to explore and re-visit. The outdoors - the forest, mountains and ocean beckons. So, ask me, "Do you want to be on the computer or outside taking in all the activity?" and there's your answer and the reason for the lack of entries.

A view of Todd Inlet from the summit of Mt Work

We go up island every 6 weeks or so to visit family. A few weeks ago we went onto the mainland for a body building championship…No, I wasn't a participant but thanks for wondering about this if only for a fleeting moment. Sorry about that; just wipe that image out of your mind right now.**

Paul's brother's tent at Vancouver Island Music Fest up island in Courtney
We sat underneath and enjoyed the music from here on one of the hottest weekends ever.
Russell deCarle, Leela Guilday, Laura Smith, Low Rider and  the Mavericks
were part of an amazing line up playing on various stages and workshop jam sessions.
Bonnie Rait, singing under the light of a super full moon on a cloudless sky,
provided me (and everyone else) with one of the most memorable evenings ever! 

Where was I? 

Living on the island is all that I expected and more. It must be possible to love a place as much as I love people or I wouldn't be out here; my family and childhood/longtime friends are all back in Ontario. Due to the distance and expense, the prospect of visitors is slim but I knew that would be the case. I knew too that our visits back to Ontario and Quebec would take place every few years.

We drove the folks to Parksville so they could take in the Sandcastle competition.
This was our favourite.

Dropped in to the Carving competition at Willows Point on our way back home

Rites of  passage for family and friends have come and gone and will continue to do so between visits: deaths, weddings, birthdays, the birth of children, and changes in general. All is happening in the background of my mind and thousands of kilometres away. My nephew's wedding is coming up on Aug 3rd. I will not be there in body but part of my spirit is with him, his bride and the "Thackerlings" daily as Graeham and Keera's special day approaches.

Buskerfest - July 17 - 27th has been a big hit. Drop in a few bucks to help them entertain us.

Yes, I ate ½ of a grilled macaroni sandwich AND perogies on Friday…
still digesting them today. But, it was sooo delicious.
From GRILLED TO THE MAC
One of the offerings at the, very popular, Street Food Festival
and we get to do it again next Friday - yea

Saturday at Saxe Point - a happy accidental discovery.
We were off to the Afro-Caribbean Festival
but found instead what looked like a private function without the roti stands we'd hoped to find.
So we changed plans.
Take out from TRINI TO D BONE: Veg Roti for me and Goat and Roti for Rod
+ Ting (grapefruit pop which we'd loved in Antigua) - DELICIOUS!!!
We got drawn into this park while looking for a place for our impromptu picnic.

I read how technology and social media is distancing us from each other, distracting us and stunting "real" social interaction but my experience has been other. E-mail, phone, googlephone, Face Book, Face Time and Skype are all immediate life lines connecting me to people I love and miss daily. Yes, I am meeting new friends and re-connecting with people I met from the mid '70's and '80's. And I treasure my time with Rod's family - his folks, sister and her family.

But, those old and long-time connections never loose their hold on me. How different it was my last lifetime here when I ached to hear their voices, see their faces and get news about their lives. News took days to get to me, phone calls cost the earth and letter writing wasn't a skill that everyone chose to develop. This time it's different and I'm so grateful for the technology that makes it so.

Here I am, Sheldon Cooper-style (Glynnie in the background)
at Marissa and Irene's 60th Birthday celebrations.
The Council of the Sleepover members pass me around the table to chat
or
reposition me for a better view of the action.
It's a surreal experience to be sure.

On Thursday, after an hour's climb, a friend and I stood at the summit of Mount Work (Mt Work Park is just a 20 minute drive from our place) breathed in deeply the scent of the woods, eavesdropped on the conversations of resident ravens and crows, gazed over the waters, mountains and forests and marvelled that we are privileged and blessed to live in a place that feeds our souls. Places and times like this remind me that I am home and that this time here is so precious. I need to see and participate in the life that is happening NOW while I'm making other plans; maybe that is what it is to let go.

Summit of Mt Work the light rain that drizzled upon us gives us a break
and a stunning view.

Many more festivals are planned, more hiking, kayaking, yoga and knitting is to be done (I took a rescue course a few weeks ago - self rescue and rescue of another….in kayaking, not knitting. Lots of fun!). The dream unfolds night by night; day by day.

** Why were we at the BC Body Building Championships you may ask? Because our nephew Jeff Messenger was competing in the heavyweight division. I'm very happy to say he placed 3rd - yea, Jeff!
(Although I think his physique and presentation was worthy of first place - an unbiased opinion.)

Spring in Victoria - apologies to the rest of Canada

So we went for a walk on a spring day in Victoria…

As we walk down almost any street in James Bay, this scene is repeated time and time again.

In the 1930's the local Japanese community donated money to the city of Victoria. 1,013 cherry trees were planted and a flowering-tree program was begun, and continues to this day. In Feb Pink plumb blossoms bloom, 8 varieties of cherries begin in late March with the White Goddess cherries, planted in 2002 peaking in May. (info from WESTWORLD magazine - In the Pink by Ryan Stuart)  

And, there are daffodils EVERYWHERE! Yes, even on the roof of this guy's garage. Some are in clusters gracing private and public gardens alike but they seem to grow wild throughout lawns and parklands. The first picture is a view of Beacon Hill Park. I omitted the pic of the guy walking to his car with a lovely yellow bouquet he'd just picked.

 Some other scenes of gardens we came upon on Monday as we walked from Ogden Point to Oak Bay Marina following the shoreline. Everyone was walking…with big grins on their faces, exclaiming, "What a glorious day!" We all know how lucky we have been this winter and spring as the rest of Canada has been experiencing a minor ice-age, buried in snow. Hell, most of us are from other parts of Canada and we don't forget where we've come from. I also know, from experience, that it is possible to endure 6 weeks of unrelenting rain and overcast skies that would depress even Princess Giselle (Amy Adam's version of Cinderella from ENCHANTED).

A lovely little beach we passed along the way. It was so warm and the beach so white, I felt like I was down south.

And today, Thursday, this guy must have felt like he was down south too because there he was swimming, without a wetsuit, in the ocean waters in front of the sea wall just a few blocks from our apartment. Not just dipping, swimming!

The turtles felt it too as they piled up on this log in Beacon Hill Park and craned their necks to cast their gazes upwards to the sun in thanks.

On my way back home there they were again, those amazing trees and…a song was wafting through the air. Seriously! Was there a radio on somewhere? I wasn't sure. As I gained on the woman with the walker in the picture. Yup, there it was. She was the songbird with the enchanting voice.

Ah, springtime in Victoria; there's no better place to be.

Shiela Stops in at the Laundromat

Shiela and Frank taking a well deserved break

Laundry day at the laundromat makes me feel like a student again. I toss sheets, towels, gotchies and other assorted apparel into the washer, throw in the detergent and take off for one of any the 6 cafés within the radius of the block (though there weren't' such an assortment anywhere to choose from in the '70's). Today I worked on my Spanish homework but last week, that was a different story.

I don't usually like hanging around laundromats. You're uncomfortably crammed into the spare chairs butted arm to arm against each other, so close that you invade another's space no matter how hard you try and make yourself small…and I'm 4'10" tall and around 100 lbs.

People talk to themselves.

OK.

Sometimes it's me, though I try to be mindful.

Though talking to one's self is perfectly normal when done in the confines of one's own home, one comes across as just plain weird when you engage yourself in conversation in public. I know. I give "those" people a wide berth.

People who frequent laundromats come from all walks of life.

Some, like us, are renting places with inadequate laundry facilities - meaning amongst other priorities they are lacking a full service café nearby.

Many laundromatophiles in Victoria are travellers passing through who barely speak or read English. And since no 2 types of washers or dryers operate the same way anywhere I thank God for universal body language which I've used to demonstrate: how much change is needed and what it looks like, where the laundry detergent/liquid goes and the very precise sweet spot to whack with one's fist in order to spur some of the washers into action.

And then there are the dishevelled types like Frank who look like they came out from under a rock. I tend to avoid those too. To be precise, Frank could have come out from under a bush in Beacon Hill Park at 7 a.m. that morning (Here's a little known fact - people are allowed to camp from 7p.m. to 7a.m. in Beacon Hill Park but they have to pack up camp during the day leaving no trace of their presence).

I know this because his dog introduced me to him.

Seven year old, German Shepherd, Shiela lay on a comfy mat placed by the all to close chairs, keeping an eye on Frank as he sorted his laundry. The cluster of chairs was pretty crowded so off to the café I was heading when I came across Frank's gear and asked him to tell me his story.

Franks walks his bike with Shiela at his side

Basically he's walking to make Shiela known for being the first dog to walk across Canada to prove that anyone can achieve their goals no matter what the challenge and if he dies before she does his hope is that her fame will land her a loving home.

Frank has prostate cancer.

Rather than endure chemo and ingest medications he's chosen to walk with her and be supported by the grace of God and the kindness of strangers.

Read about his amazing story here - WALKING THE DOG ACROSS CANADA - (CFJC News) where you will also see how to support Shiela's journey and Frank's dream and you'll access his blog - Shiela's Cross Country Trip. If you can't access his blog from this link, copy the link from the article WALKING THE DOG ACROSS CANADA and paste it into your browser as I had difficulty accessing it any other way.

As a dreamer myself I can't help but support Frank and Shiela's dream. Blessings to you Frank and all the best to you and Shiela on your journey may God go with you.

Life Lines

© Nance Thacker 1984
click on image to enlarge

The weekend has found me in a reflective mode. In my ongoing quest to de-clutter and simplify my life I've been going through my "stuff". Actually, not really my stuff, rather memories of the lives of others recorded in letters from family and friends that I'd received during my early years in Victoria.

I've carried boxes, filled with these letters from the '70's and 80's back and forth across the country and I think it's time to let them go, but not before reading them once more.

My sister-in-law, Di, and I were talking via g-mail phone the other day, marvelling at how technology keeps us connected in so many ways. Today there's: g-mail phone, i-phone favourites that allow fee free calling, Face Book, Skype, Face Time, texting, What's App, Tweeting, e-mailing and I'm sure there's a whack of stuff out there I've never even heard of. Communication is immediate and, for the most part, glitch free.

I don't buy that technology is isolating us. Face Book is where the Dream Team (my peers from dream teacher training I and II living all over the world) meet, share our dreams, inspire and further each other's education in dreams. Technology is my life line to friends and family living afar.

Back then though "snail" mail was pretty much all that we had that was affordable. Daily, I'd look for word from "home". Every letter received was like a big hug.

While I was out here living the life of a struggling artist/yogi, my friends' lives were moving through major transitions: marriages, home ownership, "real" jobs and careers, births, raising children, illness, deaths, and all the financial and family responsibility that goes with the territory. Others were studying and or travelling abroad: hiking, bike trekking and living with "friends" they'd made along the way - to be honest, I envied them the most.

Though our lives were so different, family and friends were supportive of my aspirations; often asking how the cartooning was doing. My younger sister, in letters from the mid '80's told of meeting 2 women in the Maritimes who knew of, and followed, my work in Monday Magazine - that thrilled me!

It got me looking through my cartoons and this one popped out as it pretty much summarized my life experiences at that time. No, I didn't have a meat cleaver thrown at me, but the crazed cook (and inspiration for the "chef" in the cartoon - he made Gordon Ramsay look like a pussy cat) at the Fat Cat Café a 24hr diner on lower Yates Street did threaten me with a knife while I was on duty once. Yup, life was different back then.

Anyway, that's another story…

What will I do with the letters? I'm mailing them back to the authors with a letter of appreciation and thanks for all their love and support over the years. They have no real idea how wonderful it felt for me, living on my own in my own world, to receive these life lines from home. But they are filled with their memories so, maybe when they read what their younger selves recorded they can reflect and appreciate their life's journey too.

Ah yes, I remember it well?

"You're all a bunch of liars", a fellow newcomer to Victoria says accusingly, smirking at me as he speaks.

Having heard of the tales of the dull, dreary, damp and wet months beginning in Oct and lasting well into April, we've all been psyching ourselves for it (read my last post and you'll see this is true).
Sure there was the amazing rain/wind storm a few weeks ago which would have carried Mary Poppins back to England (and probably stripped her bare in the process) had she dared open up her umbrella but it's been quiet as a lamb since then...and for the most part sunny, dry and warm.

We were told by a Victorian that this kind of storm was a bit of a fluke for this time of year. She also said, "We're really going to be in for it this winter though." Seems such a long stretch of phenomenal weather makes people uneasy in these parts - someone has to pay.

Hell, I lived here for about 10 years, from the mid '70's to the mid '80's and the "reality" I experienced, was that fall is rainy and dull.

From personal experience, what's also stuck in my brain is the "fact" that we don't get a "real" fall out here. A fact I shared with many others...

And then we drove up island for Thanksgiving. The evergreen forest, was resplendently dotted with warm orange, yellow ochre and burnt sienna patches; fields were filled with multicolour autumn hues. Though whole hillsides here aren't blanketed with the lit-from-within, full spectrum brilliance of an Ontario fall, the showing of the season was respectable and left me with that familiar warm glow.

The rowers in training at golden rimmed Elk Lake

A lovely meadow in its fall display at Mount Washington 

There are streets in Victoria lined with trees just like this.
Who knew? Apparently not me.

"You must have been living under a rock," my friend said. "I don't think you ever got outside in all the time you lived here."

It got me to asking, where was I, what was I doing way back then that I didn't see this?

Perception and memory are not reliable pegs upon which to hang a picture of reality.

The financial struggle of those years not only influenced the experiences that were available to me but also my perception of the environment in which I lived. That I loved Victoria and felt that I belonged here were absolute truths despite the fact that I juggled jobs: teaching yoga and weight training, house-sitting, modelling, gardening, waitressing, washing dishes, life guarding, freelancing as an artist; in the support of my hobbies (which I hoped one day would become my profession) yoga and cartooning. When I wasn't working I was taking workshops and classes in yoga or at sketching at my drawing board into the early hours of the morning. I'd hang out in cafés with friends; going out to dinner was a special treat. When work dried up, as it would do now and again, I'd cartoon some more, do longer yoga sessions, run, bike, take more classes (which were free for teachers) go to the shore, or the library.

I got to know the neighbourhoods where I lived, I just didn't travel very far or explore much of what the island had to offer. Nothing existed beyond my own little sphere.

But as busy as I was, as broke as I was, the island gave me time to explore my passions in a peculiarly self-driven, introverted way. This place, this island and the time I spent here, drew me inwards to the depth of my soul.

During my 27 year long absence from the island relationship and family demands drew me out of myself; I related to the world in a different way. When I returned to Vancouver Island for four 2 - 3 week visits it was always in August.

This is my first fall here as a returning resident and certainly my first fully rounded experience of this season. Changes in the circumstances of my life allow me to see things anew. How fortunate I am to get another chance to live here, to take in many of the things that I missed the first time around and explore what is here for me now that wasn't back then.

You can't go back home again and that wasnt' my intention for my life back here. Victoria has changed in subtle ways and I am not the same person who left 27 years ago.

New adventures await!

*        *        *

FOLLOW UP

I'm loving drumming class! It's the perfect way to get the ya ya's out for me. You don't have to know music to make music of a sort - right up my alley. I can feel it doing things to my brain too...good things.

I eavesdropped in on the Spanish conversational cafe night shortly after my previous post. I "read" from my Kindle while catching pieces of conversation here and there. It became obvious to me that I had to check my reactions to what was being said - I had to stifle laughs and keep from looking at the cute shoes someone was being asked about - or I'd be busted. The next week I showed up, put my loonie down and stepped up to the table. I was drenched in sweat by the time I left. It's one thing to understand a foreign language, another to speak it. I've got my work cut out for me.

Tonight I took a vinyasa flow yoga class, taught by Fiji at HEMMA and later wrote in FB...
"I felt very grateful during yoga class tonight to be in such a wonderful centre, in the company of fellow yogis. Grateful that my body still enjoys the challenge and delight of vinyasa flow, especially since my mat (which is over 30 years old) is older than many of the other students in the class.
A fellow student came up to me asking where I got my "travel" mat and I had to laugh. It IS the perfect "travel" mat and fits into my bike bag: light, foldable and durable; they don't make them like that anymore. I think it originally was brought over from India by another teacher. I use it only when weight and size is an issue partly because it leaves little bits behind every time I use it.
I will be sad to see it go as it's gone everywhere with me; hopefully I can get a few more years out of it."

End of Season

I've been ignoring local news since we got here, most especially anything to do with the weather. Last week's daily weather report announced, "It's going to rain today and for the next few days."

The view just steps from the front of our building

The last cruise ship of the season. They'll return at the end of April

Wrong.

Sure, the days started out overcast and there may have been a drop of two, but sunny skies prevailed. So when I hear such predictions I just nod, "umm hmm" and go ahead with my plans for a bike-ride, walk or drive to a hiking spot.

But when I heard that the last cruise ship was to come in today, this update is real and final and leaves me feeling a little sad. Victoria will go into a slumber for the next few months, sidewalk activity will wrap up and the outdoor markets will close for the season.

And, as of yesterday, the rains have begun.

I will miss the buskers, the sidewalk activity, the energy and vibrancy that the hoards of tourists bring with them. While driving, I won't have to play frogger with so many tour buses, carriages, pedi-cabs and sightseers obliviously wandering out into traffic captivated by all that is Victoria, hoisting their cameras at impossible angles to get just the right shot.

So, you're walking along and you see a captivated crowd hanging over the street wall.
You're going to want to check it out and we did...

...and we came upon this entertaining guy with a great patter,
unicyclist/juggler extraordinaire, AKRON

At the end of the show he tossed his hat up to the crowd
 standing on the street above. The first woman couldn't catch it.
So he tried again and the one who caught it
 was thereby elected collect donations
and return the hat to Akron.

We came upon Ian, the chalk artist a few days later.
I dropped some coins in his tin.
He called us over and said,
"Stand on this X
and look through your camera."
And here you have it. Cool, eh?

This guy is a regular.
Here he was at the Chalk Festival (when this pic was taken)
and you'll often catch him at the inner harbour.
I watched him one overcast, dull and slow day as he stood motionless
for too long a stretch;
 only a coin tossed in his tin will release him from his pose.
So, I went down and made my offering saying, "I think you need a break.
I used to be a model so I kinda know how it feels."
He just put his hands to his heart for a moment
and then took up another pose right away.
Believe me this is a challenging way to make a living.
Here's a little about him:
"CLARK M. CLARK - Master of Stillness -
Life imitates art and art comes to life
as internationally renown human statue Plasterman
 delights and surprises people of all ages
in his hometown.
Strangely and beautifully intriguing!"
Info from the International Victoria Buskers Festival 2013

NOTE TO TOURISTS - If you're coming down to the harbour bring some coin and small bills to fund this great, fun stuff.

So, I extend my thanks to all who made this summer such a great experience I'll hunker down for the fall/winter rainy season and find out just what it has to offer the "locals". I'm told that Victoria has more restaurants per capita than any other city in Canada; second only to San Francisco if you take in North America. So, I think they've got their priorities right.

I'm checking out things to do to entertain myself. Weekly drumming classes (started last week with Jordan Hanson) are getting me in touch with my djembe drum and though my hands don't exactly dance with lightning speed - more like stumble along actually - my heart sings as I fulfil a long held desire to play some sort of musical instrument or at least something that holds the promise of someday sounding musical.

Kirtan, a form of bhakti yoga involving call and response chanting, has enabled me to "sing" my little heart out, get the "ya ya's" out and clear emotional and psychic debris while cultivating deep gratitude for all that is and a sense of oneness. More than anything, this has drawn me to yoga centres. I've gone to 3 so far. I attended the musical fall equinox celebration at THE YOGA STUDIO in Sidney. This was a more modern, western influenced, upbeat form. There I was warmly welcomed back to the island by my friend Jeannie who was a fellow yoga teacher trainee in the '70's.

I had another reunion with a yoga teacher/friend from the '70's, whom I hadn't seen for over 27 years, when I attended her class at a local church. Yoga has provided me with life long friends and is helping me make new acquaintances.

Other yoga studios headed by friends are beckoning me.

If, I can work up the nerve, my goal this week is to attend a Spanish speakers meet up at a coffee shop in Cook St Village.

Oh, and my own dream workshops are percolating; the first will happen in late October.

Settling in

This is the view from the front of our building. The glow is from the 3 cruise ships that were in dock that night. The tourist season will be winding down in a few weeks. It'll probably feel somewhat deserted around here. There's a kind of festive vibe when the ships come in. I'm glad however, that we don't face the road.

Maya (black) seems to be commenting on the view to Flip, "So whadda ya think? Not too bad, eh?"

We look on to a courtyard and pathways to the other buildings. Though it's pretty busy during the day: helicopters and sea planes taking off and landing, cruise ships docking, tour buses passing through and fog horns sounding, somehow it adds to the ambiance. Being in the back the noise is surprisingly muffled and when the action's done for the day it's lovely and quite. We're in the city but on the outer edge; the best of both worlds.

This pleases me no end and I'm shocked that it does. The spices have been piled into a basket in the pantry; not conducive to generating enthusiasm over cooking. I thought I'd chucked this shelf before we left but it seems Rod rescued it. It was meant to be here as it fits the space perfectly. The simplicity of this look pleases my eye. With my most used spices visible and within easy reach I've found cooking pretty pleasurable.

Here is our schedule

TA DA! Here is our latest project...the perfect kitty litter box to accommodate"Squirt" aka Maya who has taken up spraying over the edge of conventional boxes and Flippy who loves to poo just outside the kitty box and scatter kitty litter all over the floor. It took a few prototypes before we came up with this beauty.

HOW TO CONSTRUCT: get a big storage bin, cut a big access hole. Surround the bin with a room divider for privacy and improved visual appeal.

HOW TO SET UP THE LITTER: dump kitty litter and baking soda (I add my own) in the box, mix together, shove it to the back half of the bin. In this model there is a small trough around the base so make sure it too is filled with litter or pee will pool there.

HOW IT WORKS: Maya squirts against the back wall. Flippy poos on the floor of the bin so litter is pretty much confined to, the floor of the bin. You know it's time to clean it out when the litter covers the floor, after that they'll spread it further. You have to keep it from advancing like the polar ice cap during the ice age.

 As soon as the box is cleaned Flip and Maya take turns checking it out and making their marks. This picture gives a sense of scale and as you can see Flip's choosing her poo spot just beyond the litter. The screen hides the box from view of our front door to the right of the shot but not from the prying lens of my camera.