Note to self:

Avoid Norovirus in future.

I've been about as genial as a bear with a burr under his tail the past ten days. I am very careful to use hand sanitizer while out and about, and before we sit down for lunch while we are out shopping. Who knew that alcohol-based sanitizers are not effective against norovirus? This is a glaring oversight in the information doled out to us on how to remain infection free.

Henceforth I travel with an electric kettle, a #3 tin washtub, a bar of carbolic soap, and towels. I will bathe at the table before eating my out-to-lunch lunch. Other patrons will avert their eyes or I will not be responsible for the life-long damage to their tender pysches.

So, grouse and grump have been the order of the day the past while, in between trips to the potty. However reading this on a blog I follow cheered me to no end. I just love sentimental poetry.

Great Rules of Writing

Do not put statements in the negative form.
And don't start sentences with a conjunction.
If you reread your work, you will find on rereading that a
great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.
Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.
Unqualified superlatives are the worst of all.
De-accession euphemisms.
If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
Last, but not least, avoid cliches like the plague.
~ William Safire

Beginning to feel like home

As you can see I finally got around to replacing my lost camera. Somehow I can't seem to get enthused about blogging without a photo or two to drop into a post.

Of course one of my first photos was one of the Overlord, he of the red hair, green eyes and monumental attitude. For those who are wondering, he has made a smooth transition to condo life.

But I also tested my new camera by taking a few pictures of the living room. Nothing like a photo to show you what still needs to be done (lots) but those who have been asking what the place is like can get an idea.

One of the quirks of this condo is that the living room has no window. There's a six-foot wide door off the hall, so it's more or less open-plan. I don't actually mind, as it gives us more room to hang paintings. I've hung maybe half of our paintings so far and am wondering which ones will end up in the closet. If we had windows in this room I'd have no room at all for paintings!

In a few days we'll have been here six weeks, and while we still aren't entirely unpacked or organized some order is beginning to emerge from the chaos, as evidenced by books, DVDs, CDs and various junque loaded into the bookcases.

At the end is one of the many model ships Tony built over the years, and in front of it the "host" chair from the dining room set. Over the TV is a cut-away model Tony made of the structure of a clipper ship - from a cereal box. On it sits a tiny dory he built and a miniature three-masted sailing ship which was a gift from friends many years ago.

Taking a cue from the model ships and our collection of shells gathered by family and friends and the half-dozen or so sea-themed paintings we turned this into the "sea wall". Though I love all of these paintings, my favorite has to be the large one to the far left. Tony's mother bought it 50 years ago from a Norwegian Canadian named W. Raade who travelled through Canada in the 1950's and 60's selling his oil paintings door-to-door from the back of a station wagon. It captures all the moody restlessness of waves lifted by an approaching storm.

The stack-of-books coffee table cleaned up nicely. I retouched the spots where the leather had been wet and had faded, glued down the loose bits of leather and rubbed it down with brown shoe polish and it looks great. Still old, and well-loved, but full of character in a way a new piece would lack. It also makes a great runway for a tissue paper and balsa model plane Tony built by looking at pictures in a book. Sadly, I ruined my chances for the "Martha Stewart room stylist" job, when I took this picture with lots of evidence that this is a "lived-in" space lying about.

What I really need is a picture of Salvador lying on the sofa with his four feet in the air, totally comfortable and happy. Somehow the flowered sofa provides perfect "catouflage". (He's just about been sat on a number of times.)

But with cat and our rockers in place it is a comfy room, and while it might not be a candidate for a chic Apartment Therapy home tour it is filled with items we love which make us feel comfortable. And what more could you ask of home?

April KIVA Loan

Our April KIVA loan goes to Manushak Mkrtchyan, who is the same age as our older son. She is a widow with three children who lives in Kapan Armenia.
Her two sons are still living at home but her daughter is married and she lives separately. Manushak’s younger son is a student. Her elder son helps her with her business, which consists of fruits and vegetable trading in Kapan market.

Previously, Manushak sold clothing but decided to become a produce vendor because food trading is more profitable. Part of Manushak's income goes towards her younger son’s education and the rest part supports her family.

This is Manushak’s seventh loan. She will use her loan to buy tomatoes, cucumbers and fruits to resell.

A Stack of Books - What Else?

I'm not sure what most newlywed couples do the first few days as husband and wife (besides the obvious), but we spent an inordinate amount of time acquiring books. Lovely lovely books - including a 60-volume leather-bound set of The Great Books of the Western World.

We started our marriage reading that marvelous "first modern novel", The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote de la Mancha to each other before bedtime, and dreamed of owning a bookstore.

The book has been a recurring theme throughout our marriage, buying them, reading and rereading them, and even writing a few. We've literally read the covers off a few favorites, and had to find replacement copies.

So when I did my daily cruise through the Kijiji furniture ads last night I was entranced by a large and well-loved coffee table which was built to resemble a stack of three enormous leather-bound books. At 38" x 27" this is not a dainty piece of furniture. It weighs over 100 pounds.

No matter. It was furniture love at first sight. I called as early as I dared to check that no one had pounced on it as soon as it was offered. My heart was in my mouth. It was still available! Ian was off in the mountains climbing, but the owner said he'd hold it for me until the end of the day. I sent Ian several e-mails begging him to pick it up on his way home, and about 5:30 he called to say it was in his truck and he was on his way.

It needs a bit of love, the leather is dry, cracking and peeled back in some spots. A couple of the corners are damaged, it needs a bit of paint on the legs. But glory it is gorgeous! It fits perfectly in front of the sofa, and is great for throwing your feet up on, for a plate of snacks, to play a game on or assemble a puzzle.

As a bonus each of the three books is also a large shallow drawer which will hold the laptops, cords, back-ups drives, disks etc, paperwork, CDs, stationary, the kinds of things which quickly find their way to the bottom of a deeper drawer.

My camera is missing or I would take a photo of it in our living room, but in lieu of that I will post the pictures from the ad. I have to admit Tony was not at all sure he liked it, until he sat on the sofa and put his feet up and it suddenly dawned on him that this is not just a beat-up old stack of books we're talking about here. We're talking comfort and a significant amount of storage as well as a great conversation piece.

We also bought some shelving today so once we get it assembled we can begin to unpack the boxes of books, CDs, videos and other "shelf" stuff. We need a second shelving set just like the one we bought today, but will get it the next time we go to the store. Try as I might I could not find shelves the right size on Kijiji, so finally broke down and bought new.

We are a long way from being unpacked, but little by little the story writes itself.

Operator!

I remember vividly trooping up the wide staircase of Robert E Lee Elementary (Duncan Oklahoma) at some point in the third grade to watch a film.

You have to remember this was in the early 50s, when few homes had TV, and a film in school was an event. In fact we'd looked forward to it for a week, and had fidgeted and waited impatiently for our turn as other classes marched past our first floor classroom door on their way to see "the movie".

When we were finally settled into the desks in the large third floor room and the lights were dimmed we were shown how to use the technological marvel of the age through the story of a boy whose puppy had gone missing. Alas! The boy was an unschooled ninny who did not understand how to use the rotary dial telephone to call the appropriate puppy-seeking authorities. (High Drama! We were as entranced as today's 10-y-o at a "Harry Potter" movie.)

To that point you simply picked up the phone and yelled "Operator! Give me 21!" - or 723 - as the case might be, or "Stumpie Busby's". (Everyone knew Stumpie's number, he was the local bootlegger.) So film star and Puppy-Loser stood and fruitlessly shouted "Operator! Operator!" at the mysterious and previously unheard signal coming from the receiver, the dial tone.

Thankfully Puppy-Loser's kindly Mr. Rogers-like friend came along and showed him, with great care, how one uses a rotary dial. Place your finger in the hole over the number desired and rotate the dial around until it stops. Release, choose your next number, rotate the dial ALLLLLL the way around until it stops, release, repeat, etc. (Four digits in those days!)

"PL" was told he might get a beeping "busy" signal, otherwise wait for the ringing to begin. Your "party" (we called people we phoned the party in those quaint days) will answer the phone. No operator will announce that they are now on the line. You must say, "Hello!" when you pick up a ringing phone, and that is what you wait to hear before speaking.

This was breathtaking stuff which prepared the elementary aged school child to go home and show the parents how to use the baffling rotary phones which were being installed the following weeks. I proudly showed my puzzled parents this new age marvel myself, while my father shook his head in astonishment.

Now, we move 55 years forward. The Shaw guy hands me a "Universal remote" which will supposedly allow me to watch the flat screen high-def TV on my living room wall and then he makes a hasty retreat. Do I get an informative movie, or even a demo on how to use this device, with its hundred buttons, each of which has four dozen functions? No, I get a 75 page instruction book which tells me (supposedly) how to turn on the &^*% TV - but doesn't.

I hold it up and shout Operator! Operator! at it. Nothing. The TV is dark. It's 2011. The operators have all gone home.

I want to go back to third grade.

In Reverse

AKA "unpacking". We have unpacked all the necessary-for-life stuff and are mostly down to boxes of books, pictures, CDs, DVDs and odds and ends. This is not to say that things are organized. That will take some time. Ask again in a month. Nonetheless we are pleased with the progress we have made so far.

We have to wait to unpack the books etc. we brought with us until we buy the hutch and some bookcases. Once we do that the stored books, china and pictures can come "home" from where they have been parked the past four and a half years.

One of the moving helpers carrying in the 10th or so box of books, looked at me and said, "I went through my books and weeded out the extras before I moved." I'm not sure she believed me when I said I had.

We've begun to buy furniture. Since we spent Wednesday pining for comfortable chairs the first items on the to-buy list were two comfortable chairs and a sofa, which we bought Thursday. Now we need a hutch and dining room table, bookcases and perhaps an end table.

As far as furniture is concerned I decided that whatever that's comfortable and I love will work. When I eventually find the camera I'll take pictures but I bought a French Provincial sofa, a lovely thing - silk with big flowers. (eye roll)

I have not a single flowered garment in my wardrobe, nor a ruffle, nor anything particularly girly. My decorating tastes are still a mystery to me. If I didn't love this sofa so much I'd say I was nuts. All the cat has to do is walk across it with extended claws and we'll have instant "shabby chic". I also bought a matched pair of very comfy swivel rockers with traditional rolled arms, in a burgundy velvet corduroy, which picks up the burgundy bits in the sofa pattern.

I may have to thumbtack a "Guns and Roses" poster to the wall to off-set the granny vibe. Except I couldn't stand to look at a Guns and Roses poster. I'm hoping some contemporary bookcases will help. I don't know why I'm worried. Visitors always just look at the cat anyway, so I could probably have thrown an old mattress on the floor and no one would have noticed. When a 21.8 pound red cat stands in the middle of the floor and demands attention everything else fades into insignificance. Weird thing. The sofa matches the cat. The background of the fabric is the same colour as the walls, sort of a rich latte, but there's some colour in there that makes the cat the perfect accessory. He thinks we bought it for him. I hope he's willing to share.

I guess I best admit I'm enjoying this entire process, though it's darned hard work.

The Newest Chapter

In our continuing adventure.

Our trip was long (12 hours on the road) but uneventful aside from Salvador being car sick a couple of times. (Kids and cats!)

We arrived in Calgary well after dark, checked into the hotel and had the fitful night's sleep that comes with too much of a change in diet, schedule, activity level, and everything else.

But now 'tis Wednesday and we have taken possession of our new cozy little home. We've just about exactly doubled the space we had in the trailer, at 588 sq ft. We have a kitchen/dining room, a living room/den, and a bedroom, plus of course a bathroom, and a cleverly designed laundry and linen room adjacent to the bathroom.

Sixteen running feet of eight foot tall closet, including these twin four foot closets in the bedroom and an eight foot one in the hall. Plus a linen closet. After a grand total of three running feet of a 40" tall closet this amount of closet seems enormous! We've decided one closet will be used primarily for storage.

We've learned already that we can turn off the heat entirely - the ambient temperature of the building keeps us at a steady (too warm) 23 C (73 F) degrees. You can tell a difference in the temperature when you turn on the lights, which means all need to be replaced with CFLs by summer, but also indicates that this nice new building is energy efficient. Even though it's snowing outside it's not cold or drafty standing next to the large patio doors in the kitchen/dining room.

The kitchen is cute but was clearly designed by someone seven feet tall who never cooked. This will take some working out, but I will need a hutch to store dishes and small appliances.

We're slowly opening boxes and putting things away. May not be the final spot for everything but at least things will be off the floor and out of the way. Ian will bring the few things we have from storage, and bit by bit we will acquire the rest of the furniture we need, buying high quality pre-owned pieces off Kijiji, Craig's List, local shops etc. Better for the environment than buying newly manufactured and perhaps not so durable goods.

We are very very tired. It may be some time before we are fully recovered, but we could never have done it alone! We had wonderful help from sons Zak and Ian and from Ian's friends Flo, Joanne and Ronda. And our excellent realtor Monika Furtado who put an extraordinary amount of time and effort into finding us a comfortable home.

Thanks also to all our friends in Summerland who came by to say goodbye and wish us well. We look forward to seeing you when you come to Calgary, and to keeping in touch via the Interwebs!

Happy Birthday to Albert!

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

-Albert Einstein (14 March 1879 – 18 April 1955)

Goodbye Summerland

Tomorrow morning we hit the road, a day earlier than anticipated. This is a good thing, as the weather forecast is better for tomorrow than the following day, and we'll have a day to recover between travel and lawyer.

As usual the last minute packing is terrifying. The last few days I seem to lose all my organizational skills and can't decide what to pack, when to pack it or whether to pack it at all, or just throw it away. I dither.

So I was delighted when Ian and his friend Flo arrived at noon and immediately began to organize, pack and load things into the truck. Within a few hours most of the work was done, and it was apparent we could leave tomorrow morning, rather than Sunday.

An hour's work tomorrow morning, packing up the last few items we needed to keep out, doing a quick sweep, dump the tank, blow the deck free of debris, and we should be on the road by 8:00 am.

We'll tank up on coffee in town and get breakfast in Kelowna, hoping to make the pass before the afternoon warming starts to loosen the snow pack enough to force road closures due to avalanche hazard.

It's been a week of goodbyes, which are always hard. Friends have been so kind, we've had a parade of people dropping by for one last quick visit. From shop clerks and waitresses at our favorite restaurants, to the woman who delivers our prescriptions, over and over we've been told that we will be missed. And we will miss them too.

There will be memories of swans

Today the garden went. I put the word out on freecycle that my garden needed to come out, and today at 2:00 some very nice people came with shovels, pails, bins and pots to dig out and cart away about 90% of my garden. (snif) It was lovely while it lasted, but now a new gardener has lavender, hyacinths and hostas, and a family from Princeton has dozens of plants for their new garden.

We did finally buy a new home in Calgary, though not in a 55+ building, as it is impossible to get mortgage insurance on a condo in an age-restricted building. But it's a nice place, in a nearly new (2004) building, it's accessible and well-located for shopping. We're looking forward to seeing old friends in Calgary again, and getting reestablished in our community there.

We also have sold our little Beach House, which is going to be moved to a new site. Hence the need for the garden to be removed. The park's new owners are pouring great heaps of gravel on sites as they are vacated, and the garden would simply be smothered under tons of rock, which I couldn't bear. So not only we three but the plants are migrating.

We've spent the last weeks running errands and packing. We're now down to the items you use frequently enough to make it a nuisance to be without them. Zak came for a week and did a huge amount of work while he was here.

But mostly we have packed slowly and used the opportunity to rid ourselves of things we no longer need or want. We have freecycled a truckload of stuff, from boxes of fabric to photo albums, appliances and garden furniture. There's something really quite satisfying in being able to share an item with someone who might otherwise have bought it or gone without.

And we've enjoyed the trumpeter swans who have come to stay on our beach, the robins who are returning, the heron perched in a tree by the side of the road, the many quail who come to eat the seed I throw out, and the large flock of Bohemian wax-wings who landed briefly in a tree just outside (presumably to decide where to go next as they left five minutes later and have not returned). The first of the warblers have arrived back. They sang Salvador and I along on our walk this morning, like little musical lemon-drops.

We went out to dinner with our neighbours Art and Ruth and the former park managers Linda and Judy on Friday night. After dinner we all went to Art and Ruth's and visited for a couple of hours. Ruth is another genealogist. As we were leaving I remarked that I'd received the first "pen and paper" request for genealogical information I'd gotten in years that day. Ruth laughed and said, "We used to do it all that way," and she picked up a worn folder with the name Christopher Hussey on it. "Like this," she said, opening the folder. "These ancestors of Art's, I don't even have them entered in the tree yet, after how many years." The pages were so worn they were falling out of the binding. But I looked at the name and blinked.

Christopher Hussey was my 6th great-grandfather. Art is also a grandchild of Christopher Hussey. Which makes us cousins of some distant degree. So now not only am I leaving friends we have come to love, we are leaving family behind as well!

And to top it off, once I looked at Christopher Hussey's pedigree I realized he was a descendant of the Bowes (Bowes-Lyon) family, who were the Queen Mum's family. So, our former neighbour (who was an English Lord and cousin to the Queen Mum) was also a very distant cousin. I wish I'd known that then. His wife would have been so tickled.

Anyway, Ian arrives Friday and we will be taking possession of our new home Tuesday week. Since I am only rambling and need to pack at least one more box to obtain any sense of satisfaction from the day I'd best go do that.

Love itself...

I guess I must admit to being on a bit of a Leonard Cohen binge at the moment. My friend Liz said to me earlier today, "His voice makes me want to slit a pulsing artery, mine or his," but I'm loving the work he's produced since becoming a Zen Buddhist monk.

Cohen has been a practicing Jew all his life but says of his adherence to Zen; "[In] the tradition of Zen that I've practiced, there is no prayerful worship and there is no affirmation of a deity. So theologically there is no challenge to any Jewish belief..."

In this song there are echoes of the Heart Sutra which says; ... form is emptiness and the very emptiness is form; emptiness does not differ from form, form does not differ from emptiness; whatever is form, that is emptiness, whatever is emptiness, that is form, the same is true of feelings, perceptions, impulses and consciousness. ... Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone altogether beyond, O what an awakening..



The light came through the window,
Straight from the sun above,
And so inside my little room
There plunged the rays of Love.

In streams of light I clearly saw
The dust you seldom see,
Out of which the Nameless makes
A Name for one like me.

I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.

All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.

I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.

Then I came back from where I’d been.
My room, it looked the same –
But there was nothing left between
The Nameless and the Name.

All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.

I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love itself,
Love Itself was gone.
Love Itself was gone.

The Feline Overlord Turns Twelve!

Valentine's day is not a day of hearts, roses and sweet nothings in this household. Oh no! Valentine's Day here is the birthday of the Feline Overlord of the Household, a day when we do (the usual and proper) reverence to He Who Must Be Obeyed.

A newborn kitten looks so innocent, but behind those "adore me" looks lurk a quick intelligence and a natural flair for leadership. Just give him a few months.

Last night at midnight I was awakened (for the second time since retiring at 10:45) by the poke of a paw on my face. This, plus head butts to my nose, signals that my services are required. He wanted to go out and sniff the night air, have a meal and a "cookie".

The night time meals are not just because he's spoiled, but are part of the routine we use to keep his blood sugar stable. He's diabetic, but by feeding him a very low carbohydrate canned cat food and feeding him a spoonful at a time both day and night he has not required an insulin injection in over three years.

I put a teaspoon of food in his dish, put out two "cookies" (pieces of high-grade crunchy cat food). Then, as expected I stand by the door and wait for the scratching that signals his desire to come back in.

Ten minutes later I stumbled back to bed, he curled up with his arms around my neck, buried his face in my shoulder, and we went back to sleep.

At 4:00 am he woke me by vigorously scratching on the wall by the bed. "Service please." Out to sit on the step for five minutes, a meal, a cookie. Back to bed, with him snuggled up "spoon" style.

5:25, a poke in the face, accompanied by an insistent meowing. He has an indoor box, but he doesn't like using it. Outside for ten minutes, several of which are spent in loud and vigorous excavation of the cat box.

6:45, He wakes me by poking at me again. I give up and get up. The first things done are: 1) let the cat out 2) start the coffee 3) let the cat in 4) feed the cat 5) hold the cat in my lap.

You may well understand why we refer to him as the "Overlord". Today he's been fed, brushed, walked, held and rocked, petted, played a game of ball, knocked my jade tree out of its pot onto the floor, stood in the middle of the kitchen sink (which had water in it) to play in the water from the tap and left big wet tracks all over the counter. Now he is on the sofa, belly up, enjoying a well-earned rest.

Today is Sal's 12th birthday. He's slowing down, he limps a bit, he sometimes groans in his sleep and I worry about him and love him dearly. He is a delightful and engaging companion who is very adept at communicating what he expects from us. But he gives as much as he asks for.

Happy Birthday Salvador!

Purge, Pack, PANIC

Barring unforeseen circumstances we have found a new home. YAY! It only took five months of looking, and two failed offers before this one was accepted. Very much like a visit to Brimstone and Lucifer Dental Surgery.

But I won't address the difficulties of that process here, the one ahead of us is daunting enough. We have to be in Calgary to sign papers one month from today. (Gulp) Hence the "purge, pack, panic title of this post. So, how does one organize a move when you have limited energy stores?

You set up a system

Knowing this move was coming I bought a stack of 2" square post-it notes in four neon colours, orange, hot pink, lime green and eye-watering yellow. Each room in our new home is designated with a colour and a letter code:

Living Room (LR) is Orange
Kitchen/Dining room (KIT) is Pink
Bedroom (BED) is Green
Bathroom/laundry/linens (BATH) is yellow

As I pack each box it gets a colour sticker with the room code written on it, a number and a priority letter code "A", "B" or "C".

• "A" boxes contain items we need on a daily basis, and which must be unpacked immediately.
  
• "B" boxes are items needed less frequently, but at least weekly.
  
• "C" boxes can wait until everything we need to manage comfortably has been unpacked and put away. "C" items are pictures, fancy china, books, and tchotchkes, which despite a rather dismissive definition in wikipedia, in Canada anyway suggests items imbued with an aura of sentimentality or personal significance.
  

I record what goes into each box as I pack it, then code it - colour, room, number and priority. So a box with a pink label may have the code LR #3 C. If I find I need a specific item as we unpack all I need do is search the list with my "find" function and I'll know what box to look for.

The brightly coloured post-it notes enable a quick sort as boxes come in the door. I remember too many nightmare moves where the helpers don't have a clue where a box is to go, so the very box you need for the first night gets buried under a pile in the middle of the kitchen floor, or the pile in the bedroom - or... did it come in at all?

All you have to do is stick the right colour post-it on the doorway to the room and say, "Match the colour of the sticker on the box to the sticker on the door." If the label says "A" put it to the side.

I start packing "C" items obviously, so today the paintings came off the walls, the curio cabinet was emptied, the pretty cups and tea set, some reference books, and other small items were packed.

I'll cull and purge as I go. I'm not taking anything that is borked in any way unless getting rid of it would cause deep emotional turmoil. Things I do not absolutely love are outta here, to be passed to someone who will love and use them. I even organized. For some unexplainable reason we have two large photo albums, each only half full. I pulled the pictures from one and put them in the other, and will pass the other perfectly good album to the thrift shop.

That's my "sit-down" time used up. Back to packing! How do you prepare for and organize a move?

Our February KIVA Loan

Our KIVA loan this month goes to Deggo Book Ligguey, a group of nine women in Senegal who work together to improve their lives.

In this Group: Bobatora Diedhiou, Christine Assine, Rosalie Sagna, Rougui Diedhiou, Marie Boya Diedhiou, Méta Diatta, Héléne Diatta, Francisca Diatta, Solinda Silva.

The Deggo Book Ligguey solidarity group was created three years ago. It is composed of nine women. These women advocate harmony within their group, which allows them to feel very close and cooperative in their business activities. They have all invested in small stores, buy their products in one place and set the same price.

Mrs Marie Boya Diedhiou, standing right in the picture and raising her hand, chairs the group. She is 33 years old, married and the mother of four children. She sells palm oil, brooms and lemons. The Microfinance loans she was granted so far have enabled her to expand her business to Dakar, the capital of the country. Now she participates more in the education of her children. She also is able to contribute to general household expenses.

In a group loan, each member of the group receives an individual loan but is part of a group of individuals bound by a group guarantee. Under this arrangement, each member of the group supports one another and is responsible for paying back the loans of their fellow group members if someone is delinquent or defaults.

Snow Day...

Thankfully we went to town to shop yesterday, when it was a blistering 6 degrees C (42.8 F) because while prognostications are that it will reach 8 C (46.8 F) tomorrow today we have snow! It's snowing very heavily and is supposed to snow all night, turning to rain as it warms.

Our neighbour Art, who was out cheerfully shoveling first thing, said, "It's so wet you could almost pump it!"

It's very still, and very quiet, in that muffler and scarf sort of way only heavy snow brings. The world drops away at the edge of the road. It's quite lovely, especially since I don't have to drive in it, shovel it, or otherwise endure it.

In the garden the Kanji lantern is buried up to its shoulders, with a perfect cap of snow on top. The garden is a hummocky bed of white, with only the tallest bits peeking out from under the blanket.

Sal is disgruntled, since he'd like a walk but doesn't walking in wet belly-deep snow. He sits on the step and glares.... Maine Coons are supposed to be impervious to snow, but he hates the wet kind. When it's dry he'll walk on it, but walking in this is too much like a cold bath to be any fun.

We won't complain. It's been a mild winter and we should be through the worst of it now. The days are visibly longer, this will give the earth a much-needed drink, and the earth continues to spin on its axis.

Ring the bells that still can ring...

There is a crack, a crack in everything,
That's how the light gets in,
That's how the light gets in...

Hallelujah! and Happy Birthday!

Happy 70th Birthday Tony, and Hallelujah, not because as Cohen says in his song, "it all went wrong", but because it's all gone right, and I stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah! for the years you've shared with me.

This video affords a 360 degree view from a helicopter as it flies above Nimmo Bay, turquoise-coloured rivers, the coastal mountains and glaciers. It's like being in the cockpit. You can look ahead, to the sides, down and behind. Probably the most magnificent look at the province we live in that I have ever seen.

Click to start the video:

January KIVA Loan

Manuel Lara Quillay

And as a nod to my fine husband who is soon to turn 70, our 22nd KIVA loan goes to 70 year-old farmer Manuel Lara Quillay, who is married and lives with his wife in Chillanes Canton, Bolívar province Ecuador. Manuel and his wife have five children.

Manuel is a corn and broad bean farmer. His purchases and sales both take place at the Chillanes Canton Market on Sundays. He asked for a loan to buy seed, manure and fertilizer so that his crops will grow well and be of good quality. The loan will help him economically to meet the farmer's seasonal challenges like insect infestations, plant diseases and variations in the weather.

His hope is for continued good health so he can carry on working and provide an education for his children. His dream is that they can improve their lives through education.

Good luck Manuel, we will be rooting for you in the months ahead!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Ian knows what to get his Mama for her birthday. For the second year he sent me a KIVA gift certificate.

And seeing as how today I officially became a senior citizen, a golden oldie and one of the first of the boomers to turn 65 I decided to find someone "old like me" to loan my money to.

Now, there's no telling how old is "old" but the KIVA description says Mr. Thai Hong and his wife, Mrs. Sakhorn Sbaung are "old", but still strong enough to work.

Mr.Thai Hong and his wife are rice and lotus farmers who live along National Road Number Six, about 20 kilometers from Phnom Penh Cambodia.

Farming is their main business, and you have to feel respect for anyone, let alone "old" people who can do the back-breaking work of maintaining a rice paddy. They asked for a $500 (USD) loan to purchase seeds, fertilizer and pesticide to maintain their farm.

So, in my small way I hope to give them a bit of a hand, and thanks to Ian for helping me do it! I'll make my regular monthly KIVA loan in a few days when the loan repayments have been credited to my account and the money is available to top up and loan out again.

As The World Turns

Our little world anyway. Of course it turns daily, on its small pivot. The daily round of cook and clean, the conversation over morning coffee. But it's about to spin 180 degrees.

As much as we have loved it here, and regret leaving neighbours who have become valued friends, we've made the decision to return to Calgary. Many reasons, which I will not belabour, but we are looking forward to being close to Ian, and paradoxically, to Zak and Mandy, since they can combine visits to her family and us.

So we are looking for a condo in Calgary and will put the Beach House up for sale. Hopefully a new owner can be found who will love the flowers and garden, and enjoy the deck, as well as the glorified tin can itself.

Ian is serving as leg-man in Calgary, looking at condos and video-taping them for our inspection. Zak is coming in a couple of weeks to help purge and pack. Everything not essential to daily living will be packed, lots of extra flotsam will be tossed, donated and freecycled. (Amazing the amount of stuff one collects as soon as the wheels stop rolling.)

These four years have been an interesting experience. A good RV park is a community which you settle into, quickly or over time, depending on the situation. At Bel Air we were treated as old friends the day we arrived, as people came and went with the seasons and the atmosphere was very much "Hail fellow well met!".

Here the permanent residents are much more stable, many having been here for 10+ years, and though everyone was friendly and helpful from the first it took longer to find our place. But find it we did, and this has been a wonderful place to live. But we've realized that it's the community around you which makes a situation livable. We lived in a building in Calgary for 11 years, and got to know one neighbour in all that time. You might as well live on a desert island like Robinson Crusoe in one of those buildings.

So while looking for a place to buy in Calgary we found that there's an interesting form of housing there which is not available here. A development company has built four condo buildings with age restrictions - 55+ or 60+. These four buildings offer a wide range of amenities. Each resident owns their condo - an apartment with a complete kitchen, bath, bedroom, living room etc. but all share the building's common amenities. There are daily social activities, a bus for shopping trips, exercise, games and craft/hobby rooms. There's a library and a media/computer room. There are gathering places with comfy chairs, big screen TVs, fireplaces, and a dining room where you can have dinner if you don't feel like cooking. Each building adjoins a park with walking paths.

It's this kind of unit in a community that we are looking for. Alas, along with the age restrictions these buildings have pet restrictions. Only certain areas in each of the buildings will allow a cat and so far we haven't found the perfect match. But we will, or at least we hope so. The realtor just e-mailed to say the second of the three available buildings has enacted a new by-law and now doesn't allow pets. It's frustrating to say the least.

So, while we pack and purge and keep up a constant stream of e-mails with the realtor, the banker and Ian, we remind ourselves not to be sad or anxious that this wonderful phase of our lives is ending, or to worry about finding a new home, but instead to look forward to new challenges, new friends, and a new chapter in our ever-evolving adventure.