Merry Christmas

I have been blogging for about a year now, if you have been reading, so I figure the annual Christmas letter can be more of a greeting than a missive. So, greetings and good wishes all over the globe to all the wonderful people that we count as well-loved family and friends.  You know we’ve been travelling a lot and enjoying new and familiar places and you know we’ve been working around the house and community, and that I've stopped painting.  Paul, Sue, and kids in Halifax have had lots of changes this year with the expansion of Over the Edge and next year looks equally busy. They’ve just signed their first event in Alaska so they have the USA pretty well covered.  Mark and Melynda are well and happy even though the restaurant business has been hit quite hard with the HST and our new even-tougher alcohol and driving laws. Melynda is studying holistic medicine and working part time so they are both busy. The Victoria family has expanded with two Betsys now in residence; sister repatriated from the hinterland and young Brazilian cousin attending UVic. The other young Brazilian (as opposed to the old one whose name I better not mention with that introduction!) is moving to Vancouver to work for PWC, so family numbers are fluid. Twelve months later my hair has mostly grown back but I no longer assume that is a permanent situation and I don’t love my new gray look but I’m a lot less fussy about colour than I used to be. Purple would be fine as long as it’s there!
We've had highlights and fun, and some laughs at our selves, and I hold my breath hanging on to our continued good fortune.

We hope the next year brings health and prosperity to you and your loved ones and that maybe our paths will cross somehow somewhere.

our Phyllis Diller wreath!

the tree, obviously

the Santa collection has grown over 25 years and now we are in reduction mode!

Amos Pewter, Mahone Bay, NS

the real Claus!

Trouper

We pick and choose the concerts we go to because of the venue. It used to be that any “star” who came to Victoria played the Royal Theatre which seats 1400 people, or even the McPherson which only seats 800. Some stars still do, those who want to unplug and play to an intimate audience; Kris Kristofferson and Bryan Adams both played the ‘Mac’ last year and Jim Byrnes regularly plays a local blues bar. But normally the big names perform at the new arena, the Savon Foods Memorial Centre (How’s’ that for a bad example of buying naming rights by donation. Briefly it was the Savon Foods Arena until someone shortened that to SOFA) which by arena standards is tiny, maxing out at about 6000 people for a concert. It is probably that small size that attracts the older troupers to this musically sophisticated city which has symphony, philharmonic, and university orchestras, a viable opera company, a music conservatory, and I’m sure more musicians of every description per capita than anywhere else in the universe. ‘The Savon’ was opened by Rod Stewart in 2006 and he's been back; Cher ended her never ending world tour there (it was actually her 3^rd last show); Sarah Brightman, Ozzie Osborne, and a whole bunch of other ‘names’ have performed there and now Elton John is doing two shows in February. Tickets for EJ go on sale today and will sell out in a nano-second. Keep in mind that this is a city of about 400,000 on a big day.

The problem is that no matter how small the arena is people behave differently than they do in a theatre which is why we hesitate before committing. If we go to a concert we actually want to hear the performer. We had great seats for Cher, who had 13 semi trucks of gear with her including the chandelier that she sailed in on and the mechanical elephant which opened the second half. But we had a party of three women in front of us who had had far too much to drink and were loud and obnoxious. The oldest of them, the mother it seemed, eventually fell down the stairs and they left, after telling us to f*** o** when we asked them to pipe down. Not that we were happy she fell but we were happy they left.

All this is to say that we girded our loins and went to see Leonard Cohen last week, his second time at the Savon in 6 months. He’s 76 so we figured we better make the effort, not that he’s a favourite for either of us but he is Canadian and an icon.

We had seats on the floor, row 17, and the arena was sold out of course. I was a little worried about being on the floor assuming everyone would be standing through the whole event which seems to happen in arenas. At about 8:04, for an 8:00 start, LC dances onto the stage with 9 musicians, to thunderous applause; no warm-up act. About 9:20 I figure he’s maybe doing a 90 minute show with no intermission, he’s getting on in years don’t forget. At 9:35 he called the intermission and started again at 10:00! At 11:25 he had just finished Closing Time but said, “I just want to do one more song”, and the show finally closed at 11:35. That’s 3 full hours of concert and he’s looking as though he could keep going forever! Reading a review of an Oakland CA show he apparently did 3 hours and then a 40 minute encore. If that’s what Zen Buddhism does, bring it on. Plus he had fabulous musicians with him http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/band2008.html ; most notable for me was Javier Mas but every one of them was outstanding.

Willie Nelson was my previous benchmark for giving good value in a concert (25 years ago so don’t take this as a recommendation) and Kenny Rogers was the worst at 45 minutes after an hour long warm-up act. Leonard Cohen is now the king forever. And even better, the audience stayed in their seats and behaved as though they wanted to hear every sound. Granted his music is meditative,( he’s a better poet than singer in my opinion) rather than dance music which helped to ground people in their seats but they could have been standing and swaying rather than sitting.

All in all, if you have the opportunity and any feeling for Cohen as a poet, musician, or oddity, he is a trouper!

Fire and Ice: Iceland

This is a long one, about Iceland, so if you aren’t interested just move on. The summary is that it is a fantastic place and we absolutely loved it; Jim was lukewarm about going and now he says it was one of our best-ever trips.

I’ve wanted to go there for years, I think it was a mystery I read in my teens and then a fascination with the Norse gods. A most amazing deal popped up on Travelzoo’s weekly top 20 so we decided to grab it. Turns out my sister, Betsy, also had a hankering to go to Iceland so she came too; she claims she had to beg but we were happy to include her.

We flew from Seattle, 7 hours, directly to Reykjavik on Icelandair and stayed at the Hilton Nordica which included amazing breakfasts. We were “on the ground” for 5 ½ days which gave us a good flavour of the city and surrounding area. I would have liked another day.

There were a lot of highlights and surprises:

Almost everyone speaks English which makes it very easy for English speaking visitors and the people we met were friendly and cheerful. Icelandic is an absolutely incomprehensible language, old Norse, and not a bit phonetic. They spent so many years in isolation that the language hasn’t evolved much and the general populace is still able to read documents from the 11-1200’s. Try that in old English!

The population of the country is about 350,000 and about 2/3 live in Reykjavik. The city is deliberately low-rise so as not to impede anyone’s view of the mountains. That may have started because there are so many volcanoes that the people wanted to be able to keep an eye out for potential activity; it’s a theory.

walking down to the Althing

It’s a new country geologically and politically but it began its democratic parliament back in the 900’s, the Althing, centuries before anyone else was getting around to it. The Settlement (reference to the first arrivals as there didn’t seem to be any indigenous people) was in 871-ish and much of the next 1000 years was spent under Norse and then Danish rule. Independence was only achieved in 1944.

turf houses

Not that the Danes are backward or oppressive but turf houses were still in use into the 1940’s in the countryside, pretty much heated by the livestock in the lower rooms. Yikes.



city hall



So the impression we got is that the buildings and infrastructure are quite new, and the style and feel of the city is cosmopolitan without the hurly burly city hassles. There are lots of sculptures my favourite being the Solfar Viking Ship on the seawall, evocative of isolation, longing, independence, and adventure.

seriously black sand!

I can’t speak to the rest of the country but in the south west there are lava fields everywhere, some that look like sand and some that are moss and lichen covered rubble. We visited a glacier that was retreating rapidly in part because of the coating of black sand which, of course, attracts heat. The sand happened to be the fallout from last spring’s eruption, Eyjafjallajökull. Give that one a whirl; people tried to help us with the pronunciation to no avail.

moss covered lava

There are thermal areas all over the place too, just puffing steam into the air through vents, some that are extremely high hear 300C and some that are lower and more useful at 80-100C. There are various public thermal pools and we spent some time at the Blue Lagoon which is the biggest and most famous. It was dark when we got there so we don’t have any decent photos but the colour is really odd; pale milky blue, apparently from silica. About 25% of Iceland’s heat and electricity is produced from thermal energy and they have the capacity for about 75%. Apparently it costs about $500.00 per year to heat a house and they seem to keep the building very warm. Which brings me to the climate: despite being at latitude 65◦ it doesn’t get very cold thanks to the Gulf Stream. Winters are warmer than New York on average and last year Reykjavik didn’t have any snow at all. The wind was cold but we had rain and it was in the 4-8C range. On the other hand we’ve had snow and serious cold in Victoria since we got home, one of life’s many ironies.

The small towns and villages are unprepossessing but the most modest of buildings may house a quality glass shop or very good restaurant. It is a good lesson in suspending judgement based on the exterior.

kindred spirits

Daylight is interesting and short at this time of year. Sunset was about the same as our latitude of 48◦, it’s slipped a lot since then, but sunrise isn’t until 10:30 today. I think we got the last useful week for sightseeing as they are losing a half hour a week just now and only have 4 hours of low light by the solstice. They've already got Christmas decorations up everywhere compensating for the darkness. It must be very exciting when that reverses.

And waterfalls and churches (sometime in the 900's at an Althing it was decided that everyone would be Christian). And sweaters! Gorgeous. I’m already regretting not buying another one. The sheep are amusing looking with long shaggy hair and short stubby legs. The local food is mostly fish or lamb and quite salty, and there is an awful and much vaunted delicacy that is fermented shark. For once I was glad that I don’t eat fish as I gather the after taste is like ammonia.

shark in the background - the face says it all

So then we had to leave, I actually said I could live there, and we knew we had a tight window to get the last ferry to the Island. The plane was half an hour late landing, the shuttle was a bit slow to pick up our car, traffic was heavy, the highway advice was that there was a 15 minute wait at the Peace Arch border crossing, and in spite of all that we made the ferry with 10 minutes to spare. Betsy was driving and despite the full moon it was a tense white-knuckled trip not wanting to have to spend the night in a hotel. The next morning all hell broke loose with snow and wind and a crazy mess on the roads so the gods were definitely smiling on us to allow us to get home the night before.

Sit-down Dinners

Sit down for this post, it's a bit of a marathon.

Sometimes I shake my head and wonder why we do what we do and other times I am happy that we have so many reasons to celebrate and so many friends to share with. We’ve had stand-up parties for up to 100 people, and a buffet for 40-60 is not uncommon, but for sit-down dinners I used to draw the line at 12. It used to be easier to control the numbers but now our actual family members number 9 which fills up the table pretty quickly. When we count the really close extended family (yes, it’s a paradox, keep reading), who are only considered ‘extended’ because they aren’t genetically or legally related the numbers skyrocket. And for some occasions you just have to have a sit-down dinner because the occasion warrants it. We’ve had two recently…

 

Sydney and his oh-so-wonderful wife Mary



Way back in September, 23 to be exact, we had a dinner for our good friend Sydney Humphrey’s 84th birthday. I was going to write an “Ode to Sydney” but decided not to challenge my poetic ability, but he is deserving of an ode: an ode is typically a lyrical verse written in praise of, or dedicated to someone or something which captures the poet's interest or serves as an inspiration for the ode. Sydney is amazing on many fronts and even has his own entry in the Canadian Encyclopedia of Music and is mentioned in Wikipedia from his days leading the Aeolian String Quartet. Apart from his very illustrious career Sydney has supported and inspired, cajoled and cheered for, entertained and taught, and touched in some positive way, everyone he knows.



In Sydney’s world everything is possible and he has probably read about it or done it if you have a question about anything from industrial knitting to framing a house. His left brain acuity has slipped a bit recently but his music rings true and students still consult with him over competitions and their careers. The birthday dinner was going to be just 8 of us, but everyone in the family wanted to come so we ended up being 16.

Max Humphreys, his wife Carolyn Power, and Sydney, all taking the business of dessert very seriously!

The second big sit-down was Thanksgiving, which somehow ended up being for 19. It could easily have been 30, but we can actually seat 20 in the dining room so that’s really the upper limit. When fully extended our kitchen table is the same height and length as the dining room one so we can either put them together to make a BIG square table which seats 16, or we run them side by side which means we can accommodate 20. And ridiculous as it sounds we have 21 odds and sods of dining room/kitchen chairs, which doesn’t even get into the 22 outdoor sitting-at-the-table type of chairs. I swear they breed when I’m not looking, like the UVic rabbits.

tables set for 18 and then we added 1 more

It's every man for him/herself in the food line

We've re-introduced the habit of eating Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner in the early afternoon; it is so much more relaxing for the rest of the day!

 Our Thanksgiving tradition, aside from turkey “and all the fixins” is that everyone gets a Thanksgiving card in which to write their personal blessings. Between dinner and dessert we go around the table, tables this year, and everyone is asked to mention one item from their list. It acts as an affirmation of how really lucky we are to be who and where we are. I figure family, friends, health etc., are a given (they are ALWAYS on my list headed by my happy relationship with Jim), but I sometimes name something we mostly complain about. This year I chose Brussels sprouts but am most famous for the year I was grateful to have enough income that I had to pay taxes. I wanted you to know about this tradition because I think it is a good one, but I also want you to know that we often make our friends sing for their supper in some fashion and they whine about it! I don’t get it. They whine and snivel and make a big fuss about “what is she going to make us do this time”, but after the fact seem to have had a good time and they keep coming back for more.

Rob Tweedie & Renata Zecha working on their cards

It was pretty interesting to realize that we didn't have one native British Columbian for TG, rather we were from the Maritimes, Alberta, Austria, Brazil, South Africa, California, Britain, Ontario, and more.

 
A final word because I have been going on and on:

My cousin Barb thinks she is taller than she is; we all have delusions. When we have only one table in the DR the chandelier is centered, but with two tables it was betwen the two. I hiked it up as high as I could but Barb took the opportunity to 'prove' that she is tall by standing under it for a photo. And then there is Jamie (1st cousin once removed) who really is tall and reminds me occasionally...

The dear deer

Dateline yesterday. We have a deer problem in Victoria; actually we have a wild-life problem of sorts. Being a city, albeit a small one, there aren’t any real animal predators lurking in the bushes. We do have hawks, eagles, turkey vultures, the odd cougar and bear, but not much to speak of. And domestic cats and dogs are restricted to leashes and pens so aren’t doing much hunting either. So we have wild animal pests and the full spectrum of reactions to that, from “they're so cute” to “shoot them”. Our rabbits have made national news coverage, or rather the great debate about what to do about them has. Over the years people have purchased rabbits for pets and then abandoned them at UVic or the hospitals' grounds – nice grassy public areas where Fluffy can fend for him or herself. Of course Fluffy was him AND her and quickly became hundreds of cute but destructive wild rodents. You would laugh to hear the various plans that have been floated, and tried, to control the ever growing population. Get this: UVic has actually trapped and neutered a bunch of rabbits (can you imagine the cost?), and I don’t know how many hundreds were approved and transferred to a refuge in Texas (anyone who wants to emigrate to the USA just has to buy a rabbit costume). Another batch got sent up Island but 30 of them escaped from their new home and were promptly shot by the neighbouring farmer who for some reason didn’t want holes and burrows endangering her horses’ safety! And despite the Ivory Tower, I believe UVic has even culled a few, (cull is a VERY bad word in some quarters).

Then there are the deer; the dear deer as I usually call them. The deer population density in Victoria is considerably higher than the density in the wild, and why not. We are a city of gardens and animal lovers. The deer have adapted very well to urban life and can be seen wandering down the street, hand in hand, out for a family stroll of a Sunday afternoon. They see Victoria as one huge salad bar and if you were paying attention you noted that there are no predators. So we are also becoming a city of fences as we try to protect our hard-earned gardens from the marauders, who, by the way, can jump an 8 foot fence from a standing start. Apparently what they can’t see they aren’t interested in so don’t think you can erect a decorative or see through fence, it’s got to be solid. And the deer are getting aggressive. There are documented stories of people being chased and dogs being attacked. It is the destruction of gardens rather than the danger of Lyme disease or attack that has area residents dusting off their metaphoric shotguns; "mess with Rover but don't mess with my roses" might be the rallying cry of a despairing citizenry. But oh yeah, it's Victoria. Wait sitting down for any decision or action, and don't mention the C word.

So back to yesterday and look at this ‘lovely’ guy taking a rest from a hard minute of foraging. I took the photos from the kitchen window.

Don’t even get me started on racoons or Canada geese, but on the up-side we don’t have skunks. Yet.

That's our famous bamboo in the foreground.

Retired Again

Quite a few of you know that I have retired from the art business but this post makes it official. I will still paint for my own pleasure and do commissions if anyone ever asks, but I am out of the business of public approval, i.e. juried shows, shows in general, and feeding galleries. In fact I haven't lifted a brush since May. I am peppering the post with some lesser known pieces that I am happy to call 'done by me'. Like this 2nd one, "Yard Art" from a photo of Alan Cotton's back yard in PEI. The painting went to a charity auction.

I've been putting off writing this post for months, not because I am ambivalent about the decision but because I needed to tell my PEI gallery owner face-to-face that I've retired from painting, which I did in September. Someone who works as hard as she has for me, selling about 80 pieces in the last few years, deserves more than an email message severing the relationship. At least I think so. Let me assure you that good galleries are not that easy to find, and ones that are run professionally and with integrity are even harder to find. There are all kinds of stories, some of them mine, about galleries not paying for work sold, or remembering that something has sold when you want to retrieve the piece, or taking months to pay, or going out of business with your work held against debt, etc. But the Pilar Shephard Gallery in Charlottetown is not one of those. Pilar is a CHARACTER in the best sense of the word and she has an MA in Fine Art, but more importantly she is honest and organized. So kudos to her for making a living at art for herself and artists, especially in a seasonal market.

Back to retiring. The trouble with having a hobby with a concrete result, and I HATE the term “hobby artist” because there are so many happy but unskilled artists, is that the product builds up. There are only so many walls in any given house and only so many family members and friends to offload to, and still the canvasses pile up. So then you look for a way to clear the shelves, “I’ll have a show” she says and that was fun, but now what. So then you look for marketing opportunities, coffee shops, restaurants, more shows, juried shows, galleries, and commission work. But all of that requires hours of administrative effort (sales tax, inventory spread sheets, invoices,) computer work (like teaching myself how to develop and manage a webpage), networking, joining organizations, and even some painting.

Did I mention packaging and shipping? If I never see another piece of Styrofoam it won’t be too soon. You get the drift. In order to justify the activity you turn it into a job and a job comes with deadlines and responsibilities; and really, I just like to paint. And Jim likes to travel which turned out to be not such a great mix. Two years ago we returned from the Maritimes on October 2 and left for South Africa on March 11. In between time I had 38 painting commitments to complete, which for some artists is about 5 years work. I knew then that I wasn’t having fun anymore but I was afraid to not have something to do, and I still am. Writing “retired” as an occupation feels like such a cliché and I’ve never been one to conform.

Last spring my right shoulder made the decision and fired me. The injury started when I was doing student schedule changes at school. The programme we used was all mouse operated and with a mouse your arm is always extended. What many people don’t know about painting is that it is physically demanding. I am a stand-rather-than-sit painter and again the arm is extended for hours at a time. And using oil paints on canvas means you are pushing the paint reasonably hard in the early stages of a painting unlike watercolour which is floated onto paper. Also, I get very absorbed when I am ‘working’ and don’t realize I’m in pain until I stop. I’ve been nursing the shoulder along for a long time but it’s gone past that point. Now I have a steady schedule of appointments with massage therapist, physio, and chiropractor, trying to repair the years of abuse.

I have had lots of fun, and I’ve learned lots, and I’ve had my ego stroked. Now my ego gets battered by Rob Cameron in Spanish class every week, and some days I am quite unsettled, and this past Sunday I just sat and read a book. We have 15 coming for Thanksgiving Dinner, we are going to the Okanagan for a couple of days, we’ve just booked a week in Iceland in November, and there are a couple of paintings rattling around in my head. It’s not like I’ll be bored!

So that’s the rather long story. You’ve all been incredibly supportive over the years: cheerleading, purchasing, helping with shows, encouraging and being patient. So thank you.

Kith and Kin

We’ve been to the Maritimes again, for three weeks this time, and this post is mostly about why we go, which is to see our family and friends who live there. I talk myself in and out of blogging ‘on the road’: on the one hand not wanting to advertise to the world (not that the world is reading my blog!) that we are out of town, and on the other hand my original intent was to communicate while we travel. I’ll get back to you on that dilemma.

When we go east we go to ‘The Maritimes’ not just one province, so we drive a lot. Jim has a brother in Saint John, NB, Peter; a sister in PEI, Pat; and a son in Nova Scotia, Paul, (I’ve just noticed that they are all Ps) and they all have spouses and kids/grandkids so it gets complicated. And we both lived in PEI for many years so our oldest friends are there too. The timing of this trip encompassed two birthdays, Jim’s brother Peter’s 60th and our daughter-in-law Sue’s un-numbered and we had to factor in Paul’s extensive travels for their company Over the Edge.

The weather was wild and weird as it has been in so many locales. We had a week of 32-35C in Nova Scotia which is unheard of in September, and then there was our buddy Earl which blew through fast and furiously, followed by a week of showery cool clouds.

And now we are back home catching up on the garden gone rampant and projects neglected.

Here are the siblings, Jim on the left, (me) Pat, (Ed), (Betty), Peter.

The quite famous Saint John Public market. I don't know when it first opened but it is still a going concern.

Lakeside at Paul and Sue's house. It was wicked hot which you wouldn't guess by seeing P&S sitting in the sun.

Let's not neglect the PEI beaches. This is Brackley, about 20 minutes from Charlottetown, on an early September afternoon - empty.

This motley crew is the group we "hung around with" when we lived in Charlottetown. Twenty-one years later we are all still active and reasonably healthy and we have this group photo taken every time we get together, just to prove it. There was one hilarious year when we realized we no longer fit on the stairway where the orginal shot was taken. Missing from this photo is Betty ( a different one) who was at the theatre that night. Jim Colodey, second row, second from the left had face-planted a couple of days previously and had a broken cheek bone and two black eyes but he showed up anyway!

Jillian (almsot 6) on the left, mugging as usual, and Rachel (7 1/2), looking after Sue's birthday dinner, which was delicious! Lobster doesn't get any fresher than this.

Grandfathers Jim and Darryl putting together a gas heater. The shed in the background really is as crooked as it looks. It leans a little more each year and we assume someday it will collapse on itself!

The birthday cake and Paul's three girls. It was a very happy occasion.

And last night sitting out on our own deck in Victoria, enjoying the garden and Jim's favourite red-meat meal.