What to do with all those miscellaneous things in our lives? Rusty tools and broken teacups and bits of pretty rock sitting on your windowsill and things you somehow can't part with....well, you COULD line the pathway to your house with them like this home on Denman Island.
But there were Mexican clay pots, runestones, marbles, and plastic insects set into the concrete, slivers of stone and glass glittering in the sunshine: the effect was enormously appealing and I found myself mentally evaluating the contents of my own personal odds and ends for a reincarnation in something similar. Recycled debris as art at the entranceway to one's home: your neighbours will know you're not boring.
We visited this garden towards the end of the Mother's Day garden tour last weekend. It had the feeling of a hidden parkland as scrubby trees and fencing was the only view from the street. Best things here were an ornate fountain spouting water from lions heads--exactly what I want for the courtyard for my villa in Rome or for er, somewhere in my present garden.
This garden made me envision mass plantings of bluebells under my own trees. Thousands of bluebells. I loved its nut-tree orchard and blossoming trees.
Thanks all for the hugs and visits and phone calls and comments in the past week. Nice to know other people understand that a pet passing away is not an easy thing.
I also want friends to know that I have come to the peaceful conclusion that it was the right decision to put him to sleep. I think making the decision and making the appointment was the hardest thing. Followed only by the mental turmoil and re-visiting the decision over the next days that followed before we actually went to the vet. I think I did almost all of my grieving before his death and it's heavy work and an unhappy place to be. My eyes felt too heavy from so much crying.
But last Thursday, the fateful day, Lestat woke me up at about three in the morning, nuzzling my chin and cuddling into me, and I felt this curious, almost physical sensation of peace about what I'd decided. Hard to explain but since then, even through the vet appointment, and through his burial in a catnip-lined grave, I do feel a sense of okay-ness even through my sadness.
And it was a very nice thing, too, that the weekend right after this all happened was both the Denman Island Garden tour and the local Mother's Day garden tour. Two days of wandering through flower gardens is good for the melancholy. I will be posting pictures of the gardens soon.
He's been a companion for twenty years and I feel so torn apart inside right now. I miss him already.
Hope you enjoy my pictures and meanderings. I tend to journal a lot when I travel, and later, much as I enjoy the beautiful art and trinkets I buy on a trip, it is always my journal that I treasure most.
Here are some pictures from the local high school musical I went to tonight, a comedy of errors based on Shakespeare's, er, Comedy of Errors: the musical The Boys From Syracuse.
It had some rough edges and a lot of the silly slapstick humour that would probably have my friend Tai muttering, "I'll just go wait out in the car...", but it was fun and me and Jeff and my mom had a good night out.
Next weekend, the three of us are going to see 
the musical, Oklahoma. Yep, it had been a dry spell for Spidergirl, not seeing a musical play or show since December, but all that was a-changin'.
In other news:
1. I spent an enormously enjoyable hour or two in my big round papsan reading chair in the sunshine today. Face turned up, eyes closed, soaking that feeling of winter's-over up. This was the first time this year I felt good about putting a stick of furniture outside. I'd tell you what I was reading, but it's five or six different books at the moment. Wait, no, I will tell you, but I'll wait till I'm done at least one of them.
2. I joined Twitter today, although I'm not sure if I'll actually use it.It's a social website which is like mini-blogging--you can only type 40 or so characters in a post. So no excuse for not having time to post? Nahhh....probably wouldn't work that way anyway. Well anyway, my address there is http://twitter.com/Spideyjen.
I think I was partially goaded into checking out the website because some newscaster flippantly commented the other day that if you're over twenty-five, you've probably never even heard of Twitter.
3. Thursday, we got free tickets to a Toronto Film Festival movie that was playing for just one night here, and I though I'd pass along a movie recommendation because I thought it was really a sweet, thoughtful, thought-provoking film. It's called One Week, and I had second thoughts when I read the film synopsis --- it's about a man who discovers he has a terminal illness---- anyway, he decides to go travelling by motorcycle across Canada from Toronto to Tofino in search of...well, a lot of things---from inner peace to the world's biggest hockey stick, and I guess I was in exactly the right mood for a movie that was funny and serious all at the same time.
4.There's an enormous bright ring around the moon tonight. Absolutely gorgeous.
Okay....I think the whole world needs to take a deep breath and just...relaxxxx a little. The link tells the tale of how a pleasant afternoon swilling beer at a pub was completely ruined by the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch.
Hey, why AREN'T I taking a helicopter to the grocery store?!
Actually, my evening does not feel dull--I'm playing video games with friends and curling up with home renovation books. Relaxing. Comfortable. Aaahh.
Besides, even if I'm not having an awesome adventure right-this-second, I AM pretty happy that we just finalized our holiday plans today---travelling by cruise up the Inside Passage to Alaska this June! And if that's not quite as exotic as some of our past trips, I'm very okay with that too. I'm reveling in the potential excitement factor of having a hot tub and spa on board my boat. :)
(by the way, you'll probably have to click on the dinosaur cartoon to read it...unless you already have a magnifying glass at hand)
(It's seen here with a wind-chime, currently one of my many Craigslist fund-raising knick-knacks....five bucks...anyone?)
It's a gorgeous colour which shouts out loud. A colour which refuses to be subdues. A vivid wake-up wake-up WAKE-UP colour which greets you in the morning in no uncertain terms.
And when the sun falls on it...mmmm...nice.
Alas, here on the west coast, the sunshine avoids my windows for seeming months at a time, and lately that colour has felt oddly cold and industrial--more "Bob the Builder" than Mediterranean sunshine.
So, no worries, it simply means it's time to paint the walls again.
My mother says I'm like an Auntie Mame, painting the walls a different colour as her mood changed.
I don't know who Auntie Mame might be, but I can fondly identify. It's funny because the lady who lived here before me was also a serial-painter: I saw my potential new kitchen at three different house showings before I bought (over the course of two years), and viewed this room in THREE different colour schemes. Pink--ugh. Blue--slightly less ugh, but I was still mentally changing the colour. Then, the day we sat at her kitchen table signing the real estate forms, I couldn't help but notice that the walls were now coloured like a cantaloupe with a crazy green and white plaid thing going. (Note: I actually lived with it and, perhaps oddly enough, liked it enough to keep it like that for a good long while).
The colour I chose is called Belgian Sweet, a cozy chocolate brown that I am currently enjoying very much, although for a while during the painting process my colour schem
e resembled an enormous bumblebee.
It's a delicious earthy colour, and the choice was deeply influenced by a photo of my kitchen that my friend Pol sent me a long while back (back when my kitchen was orange actually). In that photo, she digitally changed all my wall colours to deep dark ones (as well as throwing in new counter-tops and cabinets to boot), and I quite liked the look.
After a lot of deep meditation sessions in the paint sample sections of the local hardware stores, I almost chose a sage green colour but since my living room is red I thoug
ht I should probably avoid looking like Christmas all twelve months.
P.S.Here is the infamous Auntie Mame, circa 1958 , played by Rosalind Russell. As well as both liking to change decors, we also both apparently appreciate a good flamboyant hat.
So, here's wishing the weather was better this blowy,rainy Saturday as we gathered to protest the ongoing seal hunt in eastern Canada, and to support a bill that has been introduced to finally put an end to it.
I don't write on this blog nearly enough anymore, and so, good readers, I know there are probably not many of you who will read this that I don't see quite often already, but if I haven't given you a chance to sign my petition, let me know, and I'll have a pen and a nice cup of tea for you. :)
By the way, that's yours truly, in the upper right hand corner of that little photo collage above--that's not my number above, but if you want more information on Mac Harb's bill to end the seal hunt, you could not speak to a person more dedicated to helping animals.
Cheers, everybody! (I promise to write more often if y'all bug me more about it). :)
Hmmmm...lesseee...there is a billion cents in $1 million dollars. There are 20 million nickels and 10 million dimes in $1 million dollars. Clearly, if I'm nickel and diming my way to fortune it might take a while to make a million dollars.
However, right at this moment in time, fresh from my visit to Childhaven in Nepal, I'm only concentrating on raising the money for a very specific goal: my friend Hritika's education fund.
I figure that six thousand dollars will go a long way in Nepal towards helping her, and although I don't actually know what the final amount of money she will need to get through school, I figure this is a contribution that I can commit to. And I know it will make a difference. I love that.
Right now, I'm telling everyone I know about this goal because that is one way I know to make something happen. Mostly, right now, I am asking people for donations of junk and stuff that I can sell on Craigslist and in garage sales because that is such a comfortable way for me to raise money by now. I've been doing it to fund my travel since my first trip in 1999.
My base goal is to raise one hundred dollars a month this way to put aside for Hritika: twelve hundred dollars a year. So far, so good: I made $132 selling stuff in January that would probably have gone to the landfill otherwise. Everything was five bucks or under and I STILL made my goal and then some.
Since she has only just turned sixteen , I figure that by the time she is eighteen years old, I will have enough put aside to get her started JUST from doing that.
But my real hope (positive thinking here) is that serendipity will come along and help me out. It already has actually. Twice this past month. And one thing led to another.
The first thing that happened was that my father woke up one night from a Compelling Dream telling him that a certain piece of valuable but never-seen or worn jewelery currently residing in a safe deposit box should be sold and the money given to Hritika's family. And he's decided to DO just that.....
To say that my jaw nearly hit the floor when my mother told me the news is an understatement. WOW. Really. (You gotta know my dad...)
And THEN, the following day, full of joy and uplifted by my parents' generosity, I told the story of my dad's dream to a co-worker.
Behind me, a voice said "That's it! I've just had an epiphany!" I turned around and there was a dear sweet person from work who was mulling over what to do with an expensive ring from an ended relationship. "I'm going to sell it and give the money to the Hritika fund", she declared.
And she is! Later, I went to her and asked her if she was sure. "Yes", she said. "This is the right thing to do with it. Sometimes you get a flash of intuition and you just know..."
I am just overwhelmed. :)
BubbleShare: Share photos - Find great Clip Art Images.
ore as a large paper lantern released into the air lodges in a tree and sets it alight, endangering the building it grows beside. 
On my List of Things to Do Before We Go there is a eclectic bunch of tasks ranging from the fairly significant (confirm flights and make copy of passport pages/visas) to the fairly trifling ( take back library books and paint toe-nails pink).
That last item is actually something I don't want to forget--here in Canada it is no longer sandal-wearing weather, but I've been following the weather forecasts for India and Nepal and this morning it was 34 degrees Celsius in Delhi.
Also I need to: clean out the fridge, bring in all the clay pots in from the garden, do a huge laundry, pack my bag (this may be the lightest pack so far!), confirm with various wonderful friends who are dropping us off and picking us up at the ferry next Tuesday, find something to read on the airplane, make a rupee to dollars conversion table, make something to bring to Sherry's potluck party, and er, you know, breathe deeply.
There's other stuff on the list, but you get the picture.
This last week before we leave finds me poring over traveller reviews of the hotels we have booked ---anything with the words "miserable hovel" or "cockroaches" needs to be reconsidered!
Also, I find myself desperately trying to avoid the stomach flu that is circulating at work while at the same time shopping for immodium tablets for the inevitable upset that people who pick India as a holiday destination will most likely encounter.
I've been reading, reading, reading about the places I'm going to be: Jaipur, Agra, Varanasi, Lumbini, Pokhara, Kathmandu......
I'm spending a week in the Kathmandu Valley! And last night Jeff's mom came over with a little gift---money ear-marked for a small chartered plane flight over Mount Everest. Between that, and my own mom's gift of money for two theatre nights in London on the way back home I can't help but feel that presents don't get much cooler. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
As well, Ritika, my friend in the village of Aru Bari outside of Kathmandu is sending little excited emails to me. I've never met her, but I'm really glad I am.
I'm getting those little travel butterflies.
List of Wondrous things I Want to Do
See the giant fruit bats that hang out in trees in Kathmandu---bonus points if I can see them flying out of those trees at just the right time at dusk.
Breathe in some Himalayan air.
Meet a sadhu, an Indian holy man.
Eat three things I've never tried: momos (Tibetan-style dumplings) for sure, but I'm game for anything that is not viscera of some sort.
Ride down the Ganges River at dawn (or dusk) in the ancient city of Varanasi--this is a city so old that it was a contemporary of Thebes, considered the oldest continually inhabited city in the world even.
Visit a cremation ghat (from a respectful distance). I am so interested in funerals, and India is one of the few countries where death is not always hidden behind closed doors.
See rhinos safely from an elephant's back in the forests of Chitwan.
Go to an Indian theatre and watch one of those so-dreadful-I-like-em Bollywood films.
Write in my journal every day. Could I not do this?
Number One on the List of Things to Do: I'm going to take a bath with an elephant in Chitwan Park, Nepal. Apparently I'm going to get very wet. Have a look at these people doing just that. I'm going to be just like that girl who had a bit of trouble figuring out just exactly how she was going to climb up on its back, I'm betting. :)
Today it was gorgeous and sunny and as I walked around the playground at work an enormous dragonfly with luminous blue eyes landed on my hip.
I called the children to come over and have a look at it, and quite a little crowd of three year olds toddled over to peer at the large insect on me.
The dragonfly stayed put for quite a while, and two of my co-workers drifted over too. I cupped my hands gently under the dragonfly and lifted it up so the children could see better.
The dragonfly seemed quite at ease while I touched it gently and showed it to all the big and little people gathered around and only flew away when I lifted my hand up into the air above my head.
"That was magic!" said one little girl. "You are magic with bugs!"
Yes, agreed my co-workers, bugs seem to really like me. This sort of thing is not an isolated incident.
"She's the Bug Whisperer!" said Terri.
I kind of like that thought actually.
My co-worker told me of a story she'd heard about a man who one day had a butterfly land on his clothing while he was at work. The butterfly stayed with him all day, and then stayed on him as he travelled home. It was still with him the next day, and, much bemused, he placed the insect carefully in his garden.
It stayed for quite a while among his flowers, lighting on his clothing every day before fluttering away again.
At last, on the very last day he saw the butterfly, it sat on its shoulder for a while before flying up and up and up until he couldn't see it any more.
While it may or may not be a true tale, there is something deeply appealing in it to me.
