PANTS ON FIRE

My sister-in-law posted on FB a picture of one of the Minions from Despicable Me saying, "Just once in my life I'd actually like to see a liar's pants catch on fire."

Loved it!

But then I got to thinking…we'd all be running around like human torches, hurling ourselves into rivers, streams and oceans to douse the flames. The intensity of the fires and the steam rising from buttocks being extinguished would contribute substantially to global warming.

We all lie from time to time but, what makes a lie become a truth.

© Nance Thacker 1990
I found a pile of roughed cartoons and I'm in the process of inking them.

We've all had them, those holidays from hell. Nothing goes in our favour. It's nobody's fault. Or, maybe we've slipped into a frustration induced, period of incompatibility with our travel companions and we're ready to strangle each other. We simmer and seethe for the duration of our return trip home. 

If there is any effort to converse at all, all that passes for conversation is "Humpf" or "What - e - ver" - delivered with "tsk", sigh and eye roll for maximum effect. If you, like me, are of the white Anglo Saxon persuasion then the WASP fight consisting of deafening silence is most likely to be your choice.

What a waste of money THAT trip was! you're all thinking.

But once we're back home, ask us how our trip was and, dollars to donuts, you'll hear, "great"… "good"… or at the very least "OK".

What's happened here? Is it taboo to admit we've had a shitty time? Are we averse to sounding like whiners? If we tell the flat out truth that, "The f***ing trip was f***ing horrible", does it make us sound ungrateful for the opportunity that we've had to even have had a shitty vacation? After all some people never get away anywhere and here we are complaining. What nerve! 

Do we play the consensual game wherein holiday = great time, so we try to keep up with, or even surpass, the Joneses with tales of great adventures that all would envy? In my younger days, before I'd experienced any intimate relationships, I seriously believed (because they made it sound so romantic) that every holiday any couple I ever knew had been on, was INCREDIBLE!  

OK, so I was a bit naive. One of the big attractions of being "in a relationship" was to share in travelling adventures like…well, like Jonathan and Jennifer Hart in that TV show HART TO HART (that ran from 1979 - 1984). Maybe solve a crime or two along the way; not criminally offend the consensual code with a shitty experience.

Jonathan and Jennifer Hart gasp in horror at the very idea
that their trip could be anything other than fabulous

What if we're not glossing over our difficulties at all? Somehow the good times (as meagre as they may be) have risen like cream to the top. We scrape off these stories, embellish their magnificence, and with each re-telling our belief in the truth of we had a great time becomes so increasingly strong that it comes to embody the essence of our whole experience.

Is it a mark of resilience or a default mechanism that our inner Jonathans and Jennifers survive un-singed, bonded more deeply, and ready to tackle yet more adventures?

GOBSMACKED

Yup, this appropriately describes how I feel about this island and its beauty.

Last week we went "up island" to Tofino for a few days to participate in a local past time; storm watching. This time of year the winds blow pelting rain in all directions and the waves roar, tossing tree trunk sized logs onto the beach like matchsticks. This storm day is relatively benign yet the shore tells another story of crashing waves heaving heavy loads into the tree line rimming the sand and I'm awed by the untamed, fearsome beauty of nature.

The first night we walked MacKenzie Beach and were blessed with this magnificent sunset. I sat under the cloudless evening skies that graced our nights, watching shooting stars dance above as I played my drum to dream the dream forward.

Wickaninnish Interpretive Centre aka Kwisitis Visitor Centre at Wickaninnish Beach, Tofino - the centre is being redesigned to reflect the area's cultural and natural landscape. I could spend hours digging into the visible storage and interactive displays. There's still more to see but I'll save that for another visit. The restaurant offers a place to sit by the fire to dry off because you'll be drenched from your beach walk. You can enjoy light fare, warm drinks and treats, like we did, from a window seat - the perfect vantage point for storm watching.

This glistening, lovely totem welcomed us as we walked through the woods along the well-manicured trail leading to the beach, a short distance from the centre. Bear eats salmon as killer whale dives into his head and eagle just sits atop it all.

One of the many coves that dot the way.

Here's our vantage point from dog and family friendly Ocean Village Resort on MacKenzie Beach. The perfect location -  a 5 min drive into Tofino and a short drive the best surfing beaches on the island. The little kitchenette; cozy, well laid out space and most comfy bed ever makes one feel right at home! We headed out later in the day so that we could lounge around in the belly of our cedar cocoon, reading while listening to the waves, the rain on the roof and the wind. From our 2nd level perch we could see the beach and ocean beyond. A solitary swim interspersed with dips in the hot tub was my reward upon our return from the beach walk. Ah, the capping of a perfect day!

Another beautiful sunset lights our easy as we head home after visiting family in Campbell River.

If you build it...

My mind drifts back to the amazing summer of 2012 and these images keep entering...

They imagined themselves shipwrecked, saw their place in the bigger picture of things and added signs pointing the way on a cold, windy day.

Somebody really had a lot of time on their hands!

Structure on Comber's Beach, west coast Vancouver Island

A less isolated beach inspired this more modern looking creation...

Structure on Sidney Spit

When I see these pics I can feel the warmth of the sun
beating on my skin, :-)

Then there are structures for dreamers to dream in...

The yurt at Mosswood Hollow where we dreamed.

Inside a warm fire welcomed us every morning.

At the end of Robert's Dream Teacher Training I at Mosswood we created projects inspired by our dream studies together. A lovely fairy presence sang to herself as she danced about amongst the bushes, trees and flowers. What is she doing? I asked myself.

This is what she was doing...

I missed it when I passed by the morning
of our presentations.

She created a perfectly inviting home for garden devas and fairies!

And then there are the homey spaces nature provides...

Look real close and you'll see the entrance to the right,
shielded by leaves.

I don't know who calls this home. I didn't dare peek in too closely.

On the Street - SUITCASE DIARIES

My friends on Vancouver Island, make me feel welcome and at home. I housesat for many of them during the '80's when I was struggling to develop my cartoon strip, and have had the opportunity to stay with them on visits to the island since that time. Their presence gives me a sense of belonging. This past Sept, we shared tales of adventure, laughs, our deepest thoughts, hopes and dreams over dinner, on hikes and while lingering on living room couches before heading off to our respective bedrooms.

I am one of the lucky ones! As I was reminded last Thurs night, others are not so blessed.

It was the night of the Sleep Out a fund raising event in which CEO's and notable business leaders slept in sleeping bags on pieces of cardboard on a paved parking lot outside of Covenant House (the host of the event) in Toronto to raise awareness of the plight of the city's homeless youths (3,000 was one estimate).

*        *        *

I love this vantage point!

Frank Sinatra's voice sets the tone, "That old black magic's has me in its spell...". It's 3:15p.m. Only coffee and dessert are served that's exactly what I, and a smattering of other patrons, desire. Staff casually go about the business of preparing for the dinnertime rush as cheerful banter flows between them.

A waiter serves me in an equally casual, familiar manner saying, as he places my order before me, "You will enjoy this Americano, it's the best in town and I made it special for you." I feel like I've dropped into someone's home.

I sit appreciating the moment, gratitude overflowing, with a big grin on my face, in my familiar corner table at my old haunt, PAGLIACCI's. The aroma of black coffee wafts its way to my nostrils, soothes my soul and, along with the massive piece of chocolate cheesecake, renders me spellbound...

MMM, the best cheesecake ever and sooo rich!

I swore I would finish my treat but a vast serving remains.

As the waiter offers me a refill on my coffee he asks, "Can I package that up for you?"

"No, I can't take it home. I'm staying in a kosher house-hold and can't bring it into the house. I really hate to throw it out though."

"Take it to Doug and View. You'll find someone who'll appreciate it. There's a guy with a scruffy beard that hangs out there. I give him extra stuff left over from my shift all the time. He's a good guy, just down on his luck and, if he's not there, there are lots of others. If you don't find anyone just leave the container on top of the garbage bin, someone will take it."

  

At the bus stop at Douglas and View St, looking for scruffy-bearded guy, to give the remainder of my chocolate cheesecake to, a spare-toothed man sitting on a bench catches my eye. His clothes are grubby, his hair dishevelled and a battered guitar case leans against him. 

We nod at each other as if we were old friends. He waives me over and asks with a smile, "How's it goin' in the hood?"

"Pretty good" I nod. "I've been travelling around for a few weeks; staying with friends along the way."

"Me," he says, "I'm headed up island to go campin' with my wife. I love campin' more than anything…not more than my wife though, I love her more." 

We laugh.

He continues, "It's good to have people to visit. Makes you feel like you belong."

Taking in the timeliness of his comment, I smile, "It does indeed. Well, I gotta go."

He signs off with a wave, "Peace, love and Harley Davidson to ya" 

I turn to go, then stop and turn to him. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone who'd like some chocolate cheesecake, would you?"

Eagerly he replied. "Oh ya, I would." 

I gave it to him and walked away.

I don't know if he got on the bus he seemed to be waiting for; if there would be a fire to warm him on that cool summer night, inspiring him to sing and strum his guitar; or if there was a wife waiting on the other end of the line or if she resided only in his mind as a memory of better times or a dreamed present. 

*        *        *

The fact is, Victoria, with its moderate climate, is mecca for people living on the street. Their beds don't consist of folded cardboard boxes placed over subway-line grates in subzero weather that threatens frostbite. Many disappear into the park which conceals their presence and keeps them safe for one more night.

©Nance Thacker 1984

on the outer edges of Beacon Hill Park

Later that same evening I had the good fortune to be able to treat one of my hosts to a meal at Passero's Restaurant where we spent a few hours lingering over a glass of wine and spanakopita with rice and veg - mmm! But, as is always the case, I can only finish half of it. Adele heads home and it's back to Doug and View for me. Those few that wander the night hours dance with fear and suspicion. I place my carton on top of a bin, knowing someone's growling stomach will be satiated for a few hours at least and make my way "home" feeling deep gratitude for the path my life has taken.

Someone on their way to settle in for the night.

Upon my return to Ontario Adele sent me a poem inspired by our time together and my leaving titled CHEERIO; the last line is "Thank goodness friends are everywhere."

My e-mail to her ends with, "Thanks my friend for being part of my belonging."

SPITS - Suitcase Diaries

I've got spit on my mind...Tyee Spit, Rebecca Spit and Sidney Spit. It all started in August during my visit to Vancouver Island...

Rod and I spent many twilight nights down at Tyee Spit in Campbell River enchanted by the sight of clusters of small classic rowboats manned by 2 or 3 members, and aspiring members, of the Tyee Club as they fished for salmon. The boats must be rowed. One or two fishermen cast unbaited lines of a specified weight and wait for the tug on their line. If a salmon of over 30lbs is landed in the boat, the angler becomes a member of the Tyee Club.

The age old nature of the pursuit of the salmon transports me to ancient, mythical times. One night as I watch the fishermen/women, I imagine canoes paddling upstream.

*        *        *

In 2010 Rebecca Spit was covered in jelly fish.

They lurked in its waters making it unfit for swimming, so I wasn't too eager to spend a sunny, warm, perfect for swimming, afternoon at this Quadra Island spit. Incredibly, crystal clear, cool waters greet us. I swim, drinking in soul's refreshment, while Rod and his sister Sue chat and read.

Families, kids and dogs are also enjoying this long-awaited glorious, summer day. It is perfection. I relax like a happy, wet dog (hopefully not as smelly) in the back seat of the car on our way home.

*        *        *

A few days later, on the drive back to Maple Bay from the Genoa Bay Café, where I shared a delicious fish and chip dinner and a jug of sangria with my friends Irene and Garth, Garth tells me of a film he knows I'll enjoy - OVER BEAUTIFUL BRITISH COLUMBIA: AN AERIAL ADVENTURE. Irene knows that he's offering this evening of cinema, in hopes that it's magic will capture my heart and ensure my return to my spiritual home.

From our comfy chairs, we fly in a bird's eye view over cities, mountains, forests, rivers, waterways and shores. Of all of the scenes that we pass over, Sidney Spit captivates me. As luck would have it I leave for Sidney the next day (Tues) to spend a few days at my friend Marlene's.

At 10 a.m., on Thurs, for a meagre $20, I board the catamaran ferry from downtown Sidney, headed for Sidney Spit.  About 45 people, including a very energetic and enthusiastic public school class and 2 excited dogs enjoy the 30 minute sail. Though I plan to explore for only a few hours, 1 o'clock and 3p.m. sailings pass by.

In 1985 the Purple Martin population was down to
5 breeding pairs. Thanks to the success of the nest box
program, the number went up to 650 breeding pairs,
in the the Strait of Georgia, by 2007.

This is the sandy part of the spit. The upright logs
were placed to decrease the threat of erosion  by
the incoming tides and waves. This is what it looked
like when I arrived...

And this is what the same spot, viewed from the ferry
as we headed home at high tide.
Note: there is much more to the spit than this section; a lovely
forest and field comprises about 2/3rds of it.

I return on the last sailing at 4:30 landing me in downtown Sidney on the last market evening of the season. I count my blessings as pass by stalls filled with sensory delights, as I walk home to Marlene's, tanned from my outing and contentedly munching some doughy, fried delight.

*       *        *

Sept 8th after witnessing the raising of Hosagami totem pole on the Lieutenant Governor's grounds I go over to see the newly completed carving of The Salmon People that graces the Government House Bandshell but am disappointed when I realize that I can't stay to see its unveiling. A small booklet honouring the event contains the story of THE LEGEND OF THE SALMON PEOPLE explaining why the salmon return annually to the Fraser River.  This carving symbolizes the respectful interrelationship between this beautiful land, its people and animals.

There are different versions of the Salmon people, but I'll tell you the tale from the booklet of a time when the salmon stopped swimming up the river. The animals, who depended on the salmon for food, devised a plan to steal the son of the Chief of the Salmon people who lived, as people, in a village on a beach by the ocean. The animals paddled up the Fraser River (this is the scene depicted in the carving) and Mouse chewed holes in all the canoes; the Salmon people had to transform themselves into fish in order to follow. The animals tossed clothing in each of the tributaries of the river to "entice the salmon up each stream". The salmon have returned every year since then...

And yes, like the Salmon and the Purple Martins, I'll be returning next summer too.

SUITCASE DIARIES - Food - it's just not the same "sniff"

I'm going to be a sucky baby and whine in this entry. I'll tell you why...

Can you say ambiance?

It all started 16 days ago on a lovely, late summer's, evening, Sun Sept 9th when I stepped into the MOSSWOOD HOLLOW RETREAT CENTRE dining room in Duvall, Washington. Most of the Dream Teacher Training I students had already arrived. We began introducing ourselves and chatting casually as we stood before a massive, elegantly set dining table which was as long as the room was wide. The multiple candles shone and glowed off the windows surrounding the space accentuating a warm welcome.

Soon after we were invited to take a place...and we were served the most delicious, delicately flavoured, perfectly plated fare imaginable. And, I mean SERVED.

I've been to many retreat centres. The food, which varies in quality, tends to be wholesome and tasty but at all of the centres self-serve is the order of the day so the plating is whatever I can make of it. Settings are non-existent as it's grab a knife, fork and spoon, give your thanks and have at it. Having worked in kitchens from: dishwasher, to food prep to bussing tables and waitressing, this is no biggie for me. In fact it was difficult at first to allow others to serve me.

I tried to describe how I felt about being served and dining at a beautifully set table to a fellow Shiatsu therapist/friend (who was once a chef herself).

She said, "You felt like you were being honoured. That the work you do is important, supported and valued." That's it exactly! (Just now, I realize that I dreamed this very phrase - deja vu - seriously :) )

In return I truly honoured the food that was presented to me with a silent thanks and an audible, "Oh, this looks (smells, tastes) amazing," or something to that effect, and took my time to savour each bite. We all did. Dining was leisurely and the room filled with stories of our lives and our dreams shared over a glass or two of wine (Picked up on a run into town by some of the group; purchased with contributions of a few bucks donated to the cause.)

Brekkie was the more casual buffet-style which suited me, a night hawk who rouses slowly and delicately, just fine. The serving table was filled with fresh breads, fruit, yogurt and special offers of the day even gluten free pancakes, soy milk for granola and other dietary options were there for the taking. Many of us were asked if we'd like a cheese-free egg dish to be specially prepared; Sandie could whip it up if we so desired. But pancakes, french toast and other items won over my taste buds.

Even the Stellar Jays eat well at
Mosswood Hollow

Every lunch and every dinner 23 dreamers were served; 16 meals in all and each one a treat for the senses. Lunch and dinner came with delicate salads of fresh mixed greens tossed in the lightest of dressings; sometimes topped off with orange, red or yellow edible flowers.

Dessert portions (also served both at lunch AND dinner) were modest, just right to cleanse the palate and leave a gentle sweet taste in my mouth. Ice cream was a popular offering. To my surprise I found Sandie's milk substitute "ice cream" better than the dairy version! Cookies (delicious chocolate chip, warm mmm. Shhh I took 2. Slipped one into a napkin and took it up to my room in "Griffandor" for a late night snack - yum.) a wheat free chocolate cake to die for (Sandie's grandmother's recipe) and the most amazing version of baklava I've ever tasted (I took mini bites to make it last longer!)

Salmon, whitefish, burgers and red meat, Moroccan chicken, asparagus, green beans, tiny perfect potatoes...ah...

SANDIE I miss you!!! It's just not the same.

And thanks so much to Paul, Hilary, Shepherd, "Sam", Dave and anyone I may have missed for all that you did to make me/us feel so welcomed and at home.

I can't wait til next year!

CLICK HERE ON MOSSWOOD HOLLOW RETREAT CENTRE and feast your eyes! Read the whole thing and I dare you not to salivate when you check out MEALS. Oh ya, on OVERNIGHT ACCOMMODATIONS see the top middle picture and the bed in the left corner - that's where I slept in what my room mates and I lovingly called "Griffandor".

SUITCASE DIARIES - Totem Raising

I have returned from a most fabulous 6 week adventure out west; to Vancouver Island and the state of Washington.

I'd hoped to blog about my adventures as I went along my merry way but my way was w-a-a-a-a-a-y too merry for me to put pinkies to keys other than to write to Rod. I have been in a permanent state of :) the whole time. So, over the next few weeks I'll tuck in some of the reports of my adventures through edited letters that I sent his way (You don't want to read the "poopsie, schmoopsie" mushy stuff, do ya?...Didn't think so.)

Here's the overview of the 3 legs of the trip:

1. Rod and I attended the wedding of my niece Tiffany and her hubby Rich and spent the rest of the first 3rd of the visit with family, friends and food with a little trip to Tofino added to the mix - more about that later...NOTE: See blogpost SUITCASE DIARIES - 1 
2. After saying good bye to Rod at Campbell River airport, the purpose of the middle 3rd of my trip was to: visit friends in Maple Bay, Sidney and Victoria; talk about dreams, lead dreamcircles and provide one-on-one dreamwork sessions as well as Shiatsu treatments; and attend events/classes at the Iyengar Centre of Victoria - more about that later...NOTE: See blogpost SUITCASE DIARIES - for Derek and Carole
3. During the last, third, leg of my adventure I attended Dream Teacher Training with ROBERT MOSS at MOSSWOOD HOLLOW in Duval, WA - more about that later... check out my TWITTER feed & AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS on occasion as many of these entries will show up there.

The entries will appear as the spirit moves me, in no particular order. Just look for SUITCASE DIARIES

Sat, SEPT 8/12

What a fabulous day!!!

I went to Government House this morning with Adelle for the raising of the totem pole carved by Tony Hunt, a member of the well known Hunt family of carvers. This event was part of Victoria's 150th birthday celebration; one of many others happening around the city today.

As we walked through the familiar grounds I told Adele of the nights that Sorel and I would sneak into the gardens after hours just to sit by the pond under a starry sky, talk about our hopes and dreams of the future and pick a few flowers to grace our humble abodes.

And as I watched the gathering crowd, I remembered the summer I spent drawing the native artwork - totems, carvings, the painting on the front of the long house within the exibit, small decorative items amongst other things - in the Museum on the grounds of Thunderbird Park. I remembered seeing the Hunt name associated with many of these works of art. And, as I daily passed through the park, I watched native carvers help a totem pole emerge from a trunk of wood.

Speeches were given by Lt.-Gov Steven Point (of First Nations heritage), Tony Hunt (carver of the pole). Elders and members representing many native communities were invited to speak if so moved.

Hunt mentioned that he was present when his grandfather, Chief Mungo Martin, carved the original Hosaqami totem pole that stood in Portsmouth, England for 30 years. In fact his grandfather gave his young grandson a chisel to help with the work; Tony's initiation into the family craft was begun. The original pole, commissioned in 1959 to commemorate the relationship between the Canadian and British navies, was damaged beyond repair. It was returned to Canada and was laid to rest on the grounds of Government House so that it can, "disappear back to Mother Earth," Hunt said.

This pole was commissioned to honour the original work and to celebrate Queen Elizabeth's Diamond Jubilee. Chief Hunt's son and grandson were amongst the carvers who produced the pole that was raised today making 6 generations carrying on the family tradition.

Hunt talked about Mungo Martin House (Wawadit'la) in Thunderbird Park and the pivotal role it played in lifting the ban on the Potlatch ceremony (from Wikipedia - "Potlatch, in Chinook jargon refers to the "different ceremonies among [the] many nations of the Pacific Northwest that... [include] feasting, dancing and giving gifts to all in attendance."[1]) which had been banned in Canada in1884. Amongst the "reasons" for the ban listed in Wikipedia I found this one very interesting - "this behaviour was deemed possibly as a destabilizing force in the nation because it was so dramatically opposed to the values of the ideal "Christian capitalist society"[2]...


As I understand it, when the building of Wawadit'la was finished in 1953, Wilson Duff (the museum's anthropology curator at the time) commented that now the house was complete. Chief Mungo said that it wouldn't be a real house until a Potlatch was held to honour and empower it - setting the wheels of repeal into motion. The opening ceremony for the house was the first time a potlatch was "legally" held after the ban was removed from the Indian Act. (The ban was virtually impossible to enforce. Hunt and many others continued to risk being arrested, during that time, as participants in potlatches in many First Nations communities throughout the province.)

The pole lay face-down. Ropes wrapped around it connecting it to pulleys and stabilizing trees. Two elders came forth and chanted to begin the ceremony. Elders, veterans, carvers and other first nation's people in the crowd were asked to help pull the pole into position.

But before this, Point, noticing a granite outcropping in front of the stand, encouraged the children to come close, sit upon it so that they could have a better view from which to serve witness so that they might one day tell their grandchildren of this most historic event; that they were there. He said, "This pole reminds us that different cultures need to live in harmony"...  it represents... "a new time for us all to stand in the same circle." In his powerful voice he chanted a song to B.C., our home. (I got a CD of it, profits from sales are going to help young women living on the street).

I held my breath during the initial attempts as the pole hovered at a low angle, the ropes creaked as it swayed and then returned to the cradle with a "thud". Patiently, the group co-ordinated their effort, guided by a man on the mic. The pole began to rise; he told them to stop as the thunderbird (eagle) came into view so that he might comment on it. They resumed, "stop" he said, as the whale below came into view and we saw the hole that Lt.-Gov Point contributed to the effort. They resumed, "stop" he said again as the pole leaned, so close to being upright. He announced,"I'm going to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." Laughter rippled through the anxious crowd. I've come to learn that ceremony isn't complete without humour.

When the pole was firmly upright, I moved to the rock beside the statue of Sir James Douglas (also commissioned for the Queen's Silver Jubilee and unveiled on May 21/12, sculpted by Armando Barbon who was in attendance and introduced to the crowd) to get a better vantage point. The drumming, singing and dancing began (Hunt's son and grandson dancing proudly with the others) as a young eagle flew overhead and the scent of pines wafted through the air on a light, cool breeze.

Unfortunately I couldn't stay for the rest of the celebration (a feast of salmon, bannock and more) and the unveiling of THE SALMON PEOPLE a carving gracing the face of the bandshell, as I had to get ready for my trip on the walk-on ferry to Seattle on Sunday.

*        *        *

1.^ Lutz, John. “After the Fur Trade: The Aboriginal Labouring Class of British Columbia, 1849-1890” in Labouring Canada: Class, Gender, and Race in Canadian Working-Class History, ed. Brian D. Palmer & Joan Sangster. Don Mills, Ontario: Oxford University Press, 2008. P.26

2. ^ibid P.28

Suitcase diaries - 1

Hi all,

Since Aug 8th I have been travelling on Vancouver Island and having w-a-a-a-a-a-a-y too much fun in the process to write my blog entries.

Rod and I came out for our niece's wedding in Campbell River and stayed there for 16 days venturing out to local haunts, visiting with family members and eating w-a-a-a-a-a-y too much. Mid way into the visit we drove out to Tofino and stayed there for 2 nights. Rod returned home on the 24th to a heart warming poo and puke filled welcoming from PBG and Tiny Perfection while I've stayed out here spending time in Maple Bay (in North Cowichan), Sidney and now the Cook village neighbourhood (my old stompin' grounds) in Victoria. On Sunday I'll head over to Mosswood for Dream Teacher Training with Robert Moss.

*       *       *

Rod and I, along with his brother (Rog), his wife (Di) and our nephew (Shaun) and (Meaghan) his wife (does that make her my neice?) ... were welcomed at the airport by Rod's parents "the folks" and his sister (Sue) and her hubby (Paul).

During hysterical greetings we were gifted with sugar donuts that Sue had purchased from the "donut lady" at the COMOX VALLEY FARMERS MARKET the previous Sat. On Sat the 18th a pilgrimage to find and honour fresh sugar donuts and their maker was in order so we made the trek to the market to find ORGANIC ACRES - THE JAM LADY.

Although the sign says THE JAM LADY
she'll always be the DONUT LADY to me.

It's all so delicious looking but it's the donuts
that are calling my name!!!

The Jam/Donut Lady shows me this cartoon
- a synchronic moment!

As I dug into one of her tasty warm sugar treats I said, "You know in Hawai'i some people are greeted with leis, garlands of flowers, but at the Comox airport we were greeted with a bag of your donuts. I think that they should make leis our of your donuts."
She says, "Funny you should mention that. I have a cartoon in my cash box of a guy walking out of a bakery with donuts strung around his neck. The caption reads, "we ran out of bags". And, since I found that I've been looking for plastic donuts to string around my neck to wear at the market."

I see the name of the entertainer and am reminded
of my wonderful time in Hawai'i earlier this year.
Ah... all island life is magical!

We are asked to take a survey in this most fun way.

On the WHERE DO YOU LIVE? card
I am the little red dot at the bottom in OTHER.

We leave the market, on this most sunny day, to go in to Courtney in search of...more food which we find in abundance at MICHAEL'S OFF MAIN BREAKFAST LUNCH AND CHEESECAKE. Though the food looks and is delicious (I'm told); too satisfyingly stuffed with donut, I simply have coffee and watch as Rod and Sue chow down.

I know the date says 2010 but we made an encore
visit during this trip too

Somehow, on our way to the car our olfactory senses and taste buds are serenaded by HOT CHOCOLATE'S chocolates so, of course we have to answer the call. Though it seems impossible for me to eat another bite, I somehow manage to savour a peanut butter truffle.

And, the car groans as we motor our way back to Campbell River.

FOR THOSE INTERESTED IN DREAMWORK AND DREAM HEALING check out my latest blog entry at AWAKENING CHOICE DREAMS

A HUI HOU

TIL WE MEET AGAIN Aloha Hawaii with the deepest gratitude, Nance...

View our Loren's front door. This is where I stayed my first night — arranged through Airbnb a few weeks before departing Burlington. I highly recommend this site.

 Loren designed and tiled his most amazing shower room with the accent, hand-made tiles produced by an artist friend.

The reclining Buddha, bathed in spotlights, watched over me during my first night's swim at Kalani providing a focal point for swimming meditation. See the little triangle to the left in the picture, it holds meditation pillows for those who'd like to sit and contemplate a while in the more traditional fashion.

Meditation cushions and sunscreen/oil for all to use, protected by little umbrellas.

A view of the FISH BOWL aka Kahalu'u Bay where many colourful fish and turtles come to play amongst the coral, courtesy of the industrious menehune. To the right is a portion of the information posted at the bay that tells the legend of the its formation.
In Hawaiian mythology the Menehune (meh-neh-HOO-neh) were little people who lived hidden in the forests and valleys. They were skilled craftspeople and master builders of great strength who completed their tasks overnight. Click on the photo text to the right to read more about the legend of menehune and Kahalu'u Bay.

Clothes don't dry too well in a rainforest, go figure. I became obsessed with clean, dry laundry so much so that when I got to Bill's at Kailua-Kona and discovered he had a clothes washer and dryer I became strangely compelled to do laundry rather than go to a café. Upon my return from sunset at Magic Beach I immediately set to hand washing some items. But, I had only 1 quarter, not the 3 needed to dry a load. Luckily I brought my trusty clothes line and hooked it up between the chair and the railing.


Back at Kalani, a few days later I lucked into this stand of trees in which to dry my clothes. Here's my other clothes dryer (sitting by the side of the road to Lava Tree Park) which also doubles as transportation. On a hot, sunny, damp day it serves both purposes surprisingly well!

So there you have it, a few more fond memories of my "trip of a lifetime" to the Big Island of Hawaii. I'm sure these and many more will fuel me over the years, filling me with aloha and gratitude.

I haven't blogged much yet about the Big Island Way of the Dreamer workshop with Robert Moss (a magical trip of another kind into the inner depths of soul and spirit) that prompted me to take this journey. More posts to come on this subject.

ALOHA ALL!!!