Hood Happenings

Now that I've settled into the lazy writer's life in Victoria, I've been slowly exploring my newly adopted city, albeit temporary. The slower pace was just what I needed. When I think about things, I've been on a whirlwind for years. Man, I'm tired. So now I sleep in, which I have not done since my teenage years, sometimes until 11am! I don't always want to sleep in and miss my favorite time of day, the morning, but with no real constraints on my day, I find myself up very late some nights, so need to sleep in a little from time to time just to keep balance.

I take my time throughout the day, go for walks, usually destination oriented but not always. Victoria is a gorgeous city to walk in with beautiful tree-lined sidewalks that carry you anywhere. The city is alive, full of color and a walk anywhere is usually interesting. Why just the other day when I took a short walk to the 7-11 for a cappuccino, I was passing a small apartment building I heard a couple arguing, and then just as I passed the window on the sidewalk, I heard him yell "I ain't going back to jail!!!" Nice. Let's move on, quickly.

The high school across the street is busy but I haven't noticed any extra noise, not particularly. With such a large high school, it might have been noisy, but I find the elementary schools much noisier as those children are "playing" where the high school kids are "hanging out" and often in the smoke hole, which incidentally appears to be at the end of my driveway. It's a long driveway so I smell no smoke, however I often come and go in the van and have to drive through them, waiting for them to move. They do, they love the van. I get a lot of waves and peace signs. I just really want to see inside the school, so am considering going over to see if I can volunteer for a few months on something. Maybe...

Stormy has been out for a few walks, not far. The park across the street by the high school is very popular with dogs due to the fenced portions, with lots of large dogs coming and going. They might decide to chase him and then I'd be stuck with this 17 pound cat in my arms running for cover...so we hang out. Stormy isn't much for walking like a dog. It's really just a lot of standing around, while he sniffs at things or rolls in the dirt. We walked by another cat once, he just kept on going like he had blinders on, keeping one eye over his shoulder to watch her. I thought he might be interested in checking her out. Nope. The full moon certainly has him psyched up as he tears through the apartment, up and down off the furniture, and then diving into a paper bag. Crazy cat.

The bathrobe club runs strong. The ladies huddle in the parking lot for their smokes on and off all day long, dressed in pyjamas and bathrobes. Kind of reminds me of Hawkeye on MASH who often wore his bathrobe around the unit.

Parking Wars, Fernwood Style

Many of you have either seen or heard of the show Parking Wars on cable...well, nearly had one here this morning. It didn't involve the city parking folks, just our apartment building. I came back from errands this morning to a huge blue commercial truck in my parking space. We have no visitor spaces, so it left me with nowhere to park but someone else's parking space, or leave my van in the middle of the lot and go looking for the driver to ask him to park on the street. I first knocked on R.'s door, the nosey old man from upstairs who gave me the night stand and lamp. He is the self-appointed unrecognized and unpaid caretaker of the complex...he is also very crochety...when I was tumbling the ghetto sofa down over the bank to the street curb, he roared out the window at me. Well, today was much worse. He knew who owned the truck, and said to knock on the apartment next door - A. the older lady who brought me the butt ugly blouse a few weeks back. I knew A. drove a convertible so it had to be a visitor of hers, so I knocked on her door. I explained to her that I wanted to park in my space and who owned the blue truck in my space. She didn't say who it was, just that he had often parked there because the space wasn't being used. Um, I USE IT. It is my parking space, which you know, and I have been here a month now, parked in that space day and night, right across from your space. So once we clarified that, we were wrapping up and before I knew it R. came BUSTING out of his door, YELLING and SCREAMING at A. for the parking issue. It was like an explosion out of nowhere...clearly these two have some history...he wasn't yelling at me, but I was still afraid, given his calm demeanor just two minutes before when I knocked on his door. I was so blown away he got out a few sentences before I told him gently that I did not need his help, I could handle this, and please go back into your apartment. Which he did, immediately - surprise surprise. A. said he has always been like that, but didn't elaborate. There is likely a story there, but I don't want to get involved in it at all. Such unnecessary drama...

So I went down to my van, started 'er up and then waited for blue truck driver to move his truck, which he did quite quickly, and then pulled into my space. On my way back, I saw A. reporting the scene to J., the Brit next door, while J. was pacing the parking lot next door with a smoke in her bathrobe....parking wars, Fernwood style.

Victorian Life

A rainy Sunday night in Victoria finds me curled up in my tie-dye quilt from the van, watching old movies on cable pvr, Stormy at my side. I ventured out earlier today in the rain, gathering groceries with the intent to finally make a recipe from the cards my Aunt J.sent me. Choco squares. It isn't until I tried to make something that I realized how much I still don't have in the apartment. I had considered just not baking, not wanting to invest in baking materials, but there are several months before I hit the road again and I enjoy making my own sweets and sharing it with others. Friends gave me a sandwich & soup cook-book, and one from someone's school, but I miss my favorites. Many were contained in a cookbook the women's group and I had published many years ago. It had been in reprint for years, but once the store closed, they were no longer available. I carried two copies for years, but then the fire this past New Year's Eve took care of that. The cupboard the cookbooks were in was reduced to some charcoal bits on the floor, among the broken and scorched dishes.

I enjoyed the choco squares. I hadn't made them for years, I can't even recall just when. I used to always have a freezer full of sweet treats at one time in my life. Not now, when it's just me. Stormy doesn't eat cookies, heh heh. With each new purchase I worry that I'll have more to unload when I move back into the van again next April. I look around the apartment and suddenly feel crowded by my belongings, and feeling the need to purge.

So I'm not heading to California this fall, leaving that travel for the spring on my way to Mexico to volunteer for awhile. I am, however, heading back to the Gorge for a third show this year - Jack Johnson. I have tickets to see him in Chula Vista as well, but I'm less willing to stray that far from home right now. I love the Gorge as a venue, it's just gorgeous. And camping is a breeze with the camper. I'm hoping someone else will be interested in jumping in with me for this show. A. is considering it, as it's just one night away, possibly two.

The writing is coming along. It hasn't been easy. It's been difficult to sift through old memories about the community now that it's closed and life there will never be the same. Most of my memories are good and there are many, but the community is closed forever. People will visit from time to time, and stay seasonally to fish in the local area, but it is moving through an evolution back to the way it was when my ancestors first worked the area. Before long, no one will live there, which is why I feel pressed to compile the book that I am, before the memories of a once alive community fade, and those with history pass on. It has become a bittersweet process, the writing lumbering along as the pace did in another lifetime, my years in Grand Bruit.

I'm still struggling with a routine, trying hard to establish one, but each day brings its own challenges and distractions. The rain has started for the season, with rain every couple of days for a couple of days. I don't mind it, but will need to invest in some rain gear, like boots and a jacket. I don't own a single coat. I have a few zip up hoodies, but that's it. I don't expect to find really cold weather here, but there will be rain. Lots of rain. I love the smell of rain, particularly near the ocean. With the proper gear, I can continue to explore this beautiful city in all weathers, stopping by one of the many coffee shops for a hot one.

I walked the grounds at Government House this past week, gorgeous and hardly anyone there. Beautiful flowers. My next stroll is hopefully taking me to the grounds of the University of Victoria. I hear the campus is pretty...will be bringing my camera of course. Victorian life is good.

Stormy's Ready for Las Vegas!

Stormy had his vet appointment today at the Heritage Cat Clinic. He had his shots updated and a full exam. He was found to be in good health, other than his little anxiety problem. Stormy has been a chronic over licker, gnawing at his legs and belly mostly. It's been growing back in but then it itches him so he licks it. I put cream on him but then he licks that off, vicious cycle. The vet told me about Feliway, a synthetic pheromone developed to mimic the facial pheromone that cats exhibit when they're happy. It's worth a shot since nothing else I've tried. You just spray it in their environment where they hang out the most. She was out, and wanted a small fortune for the spray so I looked online and found some for half the price. He did well at the vet, got two needles, and a good exam. He weighs 16 lbs 10 oz...like a small toddler. He seemed very comfortable in the kitty exam room.

Stormy has his certificate of good health for the border and the Animal Inn he's staying in while we're in Las Vegas later this month. He can't stay in the Excalibur with me so I'm boarding him there instead. He will have his own condo, two 'rooms' and access to the playroom. The rest of the time he'll be with me in the van. I have a hotel booked in Hollywood but it's pet-friendly.

Stormy is going to be so very well traveled...

Dylan Road Trip

We had talked about the Bob Dylan show all summer, eagerly anticipating our journey to Seattle. It wasn't that we didn't already attend some shows all summer, but this was the big one. This was a legend that was in all of our top favorites that neither of us had been to see before. It was also the first show my friend and former host G. had been able to attend with us in the Karma van. I had spirited his wife away a couple of times to see Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, and Ringo Starr. We were all thrilled to have G. along and he had a fabulous time, as did we all.

The journey began when we all piled into the Karma van at 5 in the morning following our pre-trip `meeting`. Game plan set, off we roared like a house on fire, well, not quite but we putted through the quiet streets of Victoria in the ripening dawn, heading for the ferry from Victoria to Port Angeles. We dropped the men off at the terminal to walk-on, given Karma only has 4 seat-belts and we didn`t want any snags or fines. We met up on the ferry and we dragged our still sleepy and slugging bodies to the lounge, overcome by occasional cat naps as we sailed across the strait to Washington. The men hopped in the van again with us and we wove through Port Angeles to our usual stop - Safeway for cheap gas and liquor, as well as some food for the weekend. We are always in awe of how cheap beer is - I bought an 18-pack of Coors Light for $13.49...

After putting the beers on ice, we hit the road again and headed for Renton, where Jimi Hendrix is buried, and his family erected a beautiful monument in his memory. This is where we met `Jolly Roger`who was a local who liked to hang out at the memorial. Interesting choice, considering it`s in the middle of a graveyard. The carving is gorgeous, and there are many lovely pieces. Many of them have lipstick kisses where adoring fans have left their mark. We left a note on some leftover art paper, not wanting to deface the monument. We also toasted Jimi with a drink, and as I read the lyrics inscribed, I could almost hear the guitar chords. Thanks Jimi, for the beautiful music you made in the years you walked the earth with us.

We headed into the city of Seattle next and found our hostel after a bit of searching. They don`t have a sign on the building, so we had to look for the address behind the overhung trees. I managed to find parking just around the corner where we could pay up until 6pm and leave the van overnight for free after that. We were short one hostel bed, so I offered to sleep in the van, which was fine with me as I know I can sleep in that bed. The streets were busy that night, but I was able to catch a few winks for sure before the mariachi band started up at the Mexican restaurant across the street, and the gas powered leaf blower buzzed around the dog park next to the restaurant at the bright hour of 8am on a Sunday morning. Then the crackheads started to surface, scuffling by barefoot and filthy, bumming for money, and twitching out of their skin and we hit the road after that.

The show was awesome. We were within a short walk to the festival and after tossing back a few beers at the hostel, we headed out and joined the masses that moved about the busy park. The space needle is right in the middle of the park, and loomed prominently over the festival, showing up in many photos. We hung out in the beer garden before the show began, which oddly enough was not within the main stage area. No drinking in there...WTF...the beer garden was interesting and the corner we chose to squat in for an hour or so came with a drunk passed out on the other side of the fence. Oddly enough I snapped a photo of him directly after snapping one earlier of the `no pass outs`sign in the main stage area. The police were eventually called and the police wagon came with one sorry looking cop who managed to get him roused, but let him stumble all over the place unassisted so the dude fell down a few times on the concrete, and at one point, stumbled over an 18 inch drop from the raised lawn to the sidewalk. Some time later, a white van showed up and two guys jumped out, gloved up and assisted the dude into the van. It wasn`t an ambulance, but appeared to be some kind of social agency. The guy looked pretty clean cut so likely spent too much time in the beer garden that day.

We headed into the masses about an hour before Bob hit the stage and caught some of Neko Case`s opening show. And then Bob was on…and it was magic. He was a little gravely at first but then slipped into his groove. It was a very bluesy show, and Bob changed it up a fair bit, enough that unless you could hear and understand the lyrics (which is not always easy with Bob) it took a bit to recognize the song. I’m sure he has to get tired of playing them the same way after all these years. The crowd was lively, and I saw some ignorant parents with small children in the mosh pit, far too close to the speakers that could so very easily puncture their tiny eardrums…I’m all for sharing Bob with the kiddies, but 20 feet from the stage in a crowded mosh area with drunk and stoned fans is not where I would carry my 7 month old baby…there was a guy right in front of me with his little one in the backpack carrier. She was asleep for a bit of Neko but once Bob Dylan came on, she was screaming. They eventually left the area, wisely. Dumb parents. There was tons of space farther back, and lots of empty seats in the bleachers, so I’m sure they were serving themselves and not the wee one by pushing their way to the front like they did.

We all had a magical time, and rode the show glow back to the Karma van where we had a few more drinks before turning into bed for the night. We had to rise early in order to make the ferry crossing in good time. I decided to head north on the I-5 to the Canadian border and grab the Tsawassen ferry instead of Port Angeles as on Sundays they only have a few crossings, and if we didn’t make the 12:45pm ferry, the next one was at 5:15pm. We had no hassle at the border, dropping the men at the park before the border again, and made it to the 1:00pm ferry with just minutes to spare. The men had a close call with three officers who walked over to them as they were squat on the grass for a brew while we inched toward the gates. They managed to hide their brews, and come up with a plausible explanation as to why they were walking across an obviously primarily vehicular crossing…that they were with friends who didn’t allow smoking in the van so thought they would walk across the border, giving them time to have a few smokes…it worked, we picked them up at the visitor’s plaza and we were off like a Jewish foreskin, bound for home.

Next concert – Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers at the Hollywood Bowl on October 1^st.