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July, 2004

  1. Yesterday: Ferryspotting and House Construction

    July 30, 2004 by Gail


    Horseshoe Bay

    Langdale Ferry docking

    I went to the office Thursday, and it’s a good thing I did, because I realised in the morning that it’s a long weekend and Friday’s ferry situation would be horrendous. As it was, Thursday was a hell of a lot busier than I’d ever expected. I’d missed the 8:04 bus, and thought I might be able to get a co-op car if I was really, really lucky. I managed to find one in the West End that was available for the entire day, but it wasn’t due back until 9:00am. The ferry I was supposed to take left Horseshoe Bay at 9:30, so only if the car was returned before 9:00 would I be able to make it, and even then it would definitely require speeding.

    8:50: In the alley, waiting impatiently for the car at its empty parking spot.
    8:57: Getting anxious. I phone the car co-op to inform them the car still wasn’t back.
    9:00: Phone the office, leave a message, telling them that I was trying to get a co-op car, but it would take a miracle to make the ferry.
    9:07: Red Ford Focus wagon finally cruises up the alley. The guy apologises, and I try to hurry him up. I call the co-op to tell them I want the car the entire day, ’till 11pm.

    I zoomed off to to Horseshoe Bay, but the traffic was typical of a long weekend — heavy and filled with vehicles laden down with bikes and all manner of weekend gear. It made for slow going, especially because there are probably more of the less-experienced drivers and tourists out there, hogging the fast lane and looking at the scenery. When I arrived at Horseshoe Bay terminal, the lady at the toll booth said there is a possibility I might be able to catch the 9:30 ferry, but it wasn’t looking good…

    The ferry queues were incredible, but I was hopeful, since the ferry was still docked. The lane beside me was moving quickly, but mine was at a total standstill, so hope faded… finally, the ferry pulled away HALF AN HOUR late, so that meant the next ferry would be half an hour late, too: 11:45. Since I’ve been doing this Sunshine Coast run for five years (wow), I’m a specialist in time-killing. As long as I have my phone, a fully-charged battery, and my Jabba earphone for comfort and noise reduction, I’m all set.

    The first person I reached was Jorgen, who was at the (*pun alert*) tail end of his cat-sitting stint in Copenhagen. His daughter and son-in-law have two cats who amuse each other and sleep all day, so it was a piece of cake in comparison to his gig looking after Miss Hortense — high-maintenance kitty princess. We discussed his progress on trying to capture a night photo of the neon Carlsberg sign, visible from the balcony of his daughter’s apartment. My favourite photos are night shots, so I have experimented with settings and household items that stand in for tripods.

    My ferry was approaching, so I took some photos while it was pulling in. Egads, have I turned into a ferry-spotter???

    Made a couple more phone calls on the ferry — several attempts to reach Claire in Orléans (south of Paris), but I couldn’t reach her on her mobile, and I confused her mother when I tried to ring Claire at home… I managed to get through to Manu in Paris, and we had a nice long chat while I watched boats and islands go by in Howe Sound. Seems we’re both in need of some venting about the state of our lives. Manu wants to move to Vancouver, and he’s overworked at his current job. We only had time to hang out in Paris together for the afternoon a few months ago, before I had to race to catch the train to Etaples to meet Jerome, but I had this feeling of familiarity right after I met him. I hope he does make it here, so we can hang out more often, but — truth be told — if he stays in Paris I won’t complain about visiting him there!!

    This is the current state of the multiplex.

    I call it the multiplex because the building is multi-purpose — this photo shows the front of the office, facing the ocean. The tall section is a clocktower, as the first owner originally intended, before he died (yes, rather morbid — he built this house for his two daughters, then died when it was not much more than a frame). The clock itself is made especially for this tower, but it cost thousands, so Kevin decided to give it a miss… we joked that we would paint a clock face ourselves and somebody would have to manually turn the hour and minute hands!

    I saw the downstairs suite for the first time, and it’s HUGE. It’s a fully self-contained suite that would be suitable to rent out as holiday accommodation, but it’s large enough to be an in-law suite, as well. In Australia I remember them being called granny suites.

    Thing is, most lower-floor suites don’t have a view like this.

    It has its own entrance, a large kitchen (that’s the size of my living room), and floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors that face the ocean.

    The house will take some time (and money) to complete, but it’s an exciting project to watch unfold. I know Carol and Kevin are ready to tear their hair out over the complications, but in a few years, once they’re settled in and can enjoy the fruits of their labour, they will be glad they made the choice to buy this house. It’s gorgeous.

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  2. Fireworks: China

    July 29, 2004 by Gail

    HSBC Celebration of Light

    For the first time in six years, I went to a friend’s place to watch the fireworks instead of viewing them from my place. She lives west of Denman beside Stanley Park, and her apartment has a rooftop patio, so we all headed up there. What a view!

    Fireworks Photos in Ofoto

    Bear in mind, these are all handheld shots… I stood on a bench the whole time. I shot a lot of video, as well, but I will have to edit the clips, as they’re each 3 minutes in length.

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  3. Another Brilliant Sunset

    July 28, 2004 by Gail

    Last night… oooh… ahhhh…

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  4. Yesterday: of Pain and Heat

    July 28, 2004 by Gail

    It has “skin” on it… good enough for me.

    I woke up at 5:30am with probably the second-worst cramp I have ever had, in my left calf. It was excruciating, and even though I tried to massage it out, it was so debilitating I could barely get out of bed to see if I could find something for it. The pain just kept coming in waves… I managed to locate a tube of some German stuff called Perskindol that either Christa or Iris or Daniela left… The only words on it in English are “Classic Gel” — which tells me absolutely squat about what it’s for. I get by with the French on it well enough, but I don’t know anything about the effectiveness of the product. I didn’t have anything else to try, so I gave it a go. It has these colourful flames on the tube, how can I go wrong? Ha!

    It did make somewhat of a difference, and the scent wasn’t too nauseating. I managed to hobble over to the optometrist’s and back, then later last night I took to the pool for a while to tread water and get the leg moving without putting too much weight on it. By 10pm, it was good enough to walk across the Burrard Street Bridge to catch (speaking of heat) Fahrenheit 9/11 with Eliza. I was going to blog about it when I got home last night, but instead I discussed it with Socar and decided that was enough… there’s enough political commentary about it on the blogosphere.

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  5. Remember SLR?

    July 26, 2004 by Gail

    moon
    Harrison Lake camping trip

    I’m not going to talk about today, although it’s ending with another lovely sunset. Instead, here’s a pic from my photo archives.

    Camping at Harrison Lake, Labour Day weekend, 1998. Best camping trip ever. I took this photo with my old point-and-shoot Pentax Espio, which I still have. Keeps a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’.

    The camping trip was gorgeous, but where we ended up was unplanned. Some of the best experiences are like that. We left after work, so by the time we reached Chilliwack Lake, we discovered too late that they’d declared the area a fire hazard. We stopped on the road, blocked by a helicopter, discussing our next move. It was probably the busiest weekend of the year for camping, but I suggested we try Harrison Lake. I drove to the provincial campground on the eastern side, which was overrun with people, so I drove all the way south to cross over to the western side. My trusty old ’83 Volvo wagon took a beating on the forest service roads (the biggest windshield dings were from that trip), but we managed to find a cracker of a camping spot, with its own cove. Heaven!! We spent the whole weekend swimming, eating, and drinking.

    Lillian and I were the ladies of leisure, while Marc was our whipped man-slave. (I wonder how many kinky Google searches will end up here for “whipped man-slave”? haha!) As the resident gourmand, he made us coffee in the morning, fresh orange juice, fire-baked salmon with lemon and dill sauce for dinner, smoked mussels and oysters on crispbread in the afternoon… PARADISE!

    These two photos were taken by Marc Baril, who was the chef for le weekend.


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  6. Summer Sunset over Sunset Beach

    July 26, 2004 by Gail



    Look at this! Wow! I was having a conversation with Dax, and turned left to see this out my window… I grabbed the camera to capture it, and sent him the photos. Gotta love technology, to be able to share a moment in a moment, with people thousands of miles away.

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  7. Cat Naps

    July 25, 2004 by Gail

    I thought it would be most fitting to post a photo of a sleeping cat just before I hit the hay.

    Meet Mademoiselle Hortense de Beauharnais.

    She’s named after Napoleon’s mother-in-law, Josephine’s mother, Hortense de Beauharnais. I’m told her favourite place for an afternoon nap is in the kitchen in a plastic dishwashing bowl…

    Jorgen sent me this in a batch of photos of Miss Hortense, to show me how cute pure evil can be… he’s been catsitting her for the last couple of weeks, out of the kindness of his cat-loving heart. In exchange for his cat-care, Miss Hortense has been tormenting him day and night by biting his feet, knocking things over, and generally making a nuisance of herself. Now that his two-week stint is over, Jorgen’s cat-sitting yet again, this time in Copenhagen, looking after his daughter’s two cats. He reports that they’re well-behaved, but I secretly suspect all cats have an innate sense that they’re the ones in charge, never vice versa.

    Now, time to get in a cat-nap, meself!

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  8. A New Development

    July 24, 2004 by Gail

    So, last night I was chatting with Karl on MSN, discussing the idea of the Seattle-ites coming up to view a night of the annual fireworks competition in Vancouver – HSBC Celebration of Light.

    I was trying to get in a weekend in Seattle, but it looked like the only available weekend was the 14th. My plan next month is to go to Montreal around the weekend of the 21st, and then the following weekend, the 28th, is Erich’s wedding. Then Karl mentioned he was spectating an Ironman Canada competition in Penticton on Sunday the 29th, so I thought –well hey, come to the wedding! Why not? It all works out quite nicely, since he isn’t planning to drive to Penticton to see the whole thing, just one segment — the end! He says he’s not going to sign up for it, but we shall see… with the triathlons he’s been in, he might just take it further… all the way! As for me, I admire anyone who would train for an event like that, as it’s brutal:

    Swim – 2.4 miles/3.86 kms
    Bike – 112 miles/180.2 kms
    Run – 26.2 miles/42.2 kms

    Ummm…. no, thanks. I’ll just watch.

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  9. Yesterday: of Bucks and Studs

    July 22, 2004 by Gail

    Yesterday was long. Long. Long… Did I mention that yesterday was long?

    I won’t bore you all with the details, but suffice to say, it’s work-related. That said, I cannot truly complain. Look at this view! These pics are to remind me that there are proverbial roses to stop and smell. Plenty of them.

    where I used to work

    I walked to the office from the ferry terminal yesterday morning, this time remembering to bring a water bottle. If I hadn’t, I would’ve melted somewhere on the steep road leading up to the office, cos it was HOT — dang hot! The iPod is a lifesaver, too, since it distracts me from the heat while I trudge up the hill… this time Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child” in all its extended rock-out glory kept me company.

    I nearly always take my camera with me everywhere I go, and there were clusters of daisies at the edge of somebody’s driveway that begged to be captured on digi-image. But the direct heat was making them close up, and I felt a bit like a tresspasser, even though they were right beside the road and I was in full view of the house. Another time.

    On the way back up the driveway to catch the ferry home, I had a nature moment, as the resident deer in this area seem unperturbed by human interlopers. This young buck didn’t seem to mind having his picture taken. [EDIT: broken link, will upload later.] Aren’t most “young bucks” this way? Rampant egos. :)

    Speaking of Young Bucks… Back to Studs…

    Last night I spoke to Erich, of Erich & Caroline’s August Wedding, the wedding to which I was invited to bring a stud. Erich was following up on the wedding invitation, forgetting that the RSVP wasn’t until August 7. So, I’m officially stalling.

    “So, are you bringing a stud?” Erich asks, his voice expectant.

    I hem and I haw. “Naw, I don’t know of any to bring,” I said, wracking my brain for friends or acquaintances of studly virtue.

    “What about whathisname? The bodybuilder?” (For the record, he’s not a bodybuilder, he’s a guy with a corporate job who happens to love the gym.) Erich has been teasing me about this friend at every opportunity. One night in December I went out with Erich and his crowd to Elixir, the French bistro in the boutique Opus Hotel. This friend happened to be there that night, and when I mentioned to Erich that my friend was there, his inner prankster took hold and he followed my friend to the washroom and blurted out his name while they were next to each other at the urinals. Of course, my friend had no idea who Erich was, so you can imagine the reaction…

    Erich was lucky he didn’t get a lickin’, put it that way. My friend has won bodybuilding competitions as an all-natural. But anyway, he’s since moved to Toronto, so he’s not a wedding standby unless I fly him out here. But that’s not the point — I don’t want to make anyone feel like a wedding standby, or any kind of social event standby.

    “There will be loads of single people at the wedding,”Erich said, rattling off names of people he knew who were single… AVAILABLE, as he puts it.

    “Available! Makes it sound like we’re talking about rental units!” I griped. Is that what humanity boils down to? Real estate? Argh! And the way Erich described some of his friends — “Doug, yeah, he’s single… and looking… so-and-so’s single and looking, too…” — brought to mind images of colonial-style hunting helmets and khakis.

    “Erich, is this a wedding, or a safari?” I grumbled. “I can just see swarms of women clamoring over each other to grab Caroline’s bouquet.” I pointed Erich to my blog to show him that I have, indeed, taken this wedding thing seriously and am not just poking fun. I directed him to previous posts.

    “See? The stud thing went to tender, haha… actually, it went to a VOTE.”

    Erich seemed quite impressed with the comments. “Well, I bought a videocamera, so if you feel like taking some video…” — ah, finally! Something sensible! I told him I would be perfectly happy taking photos of the guests or operating a videocamera, interviewing his drunken friends and making them tell embarrassing stories about him.

    “Plus,” I said, “it would keep me from getting drunk from boredom and doing stupid things.”

    Actually, if I ever want to blackmail Erich, I’ve got plenty of embarrassing stories about him that I had best not start telling people in a drunken moment, so it’s in his own best interests that I stay busy documenting the event, haha!

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  10. Argh! Singleton Angst Strikes Again!

    July 21, 2004 by Gail

    Here’s another post with an exclamation mark. I just showered after a dip in the pool while it was deserted, so I could burn off some steam.

    Steam? Yes. Earlier this evening I got a phone call from a timeshare in Birch Bay, Washington. Apparently, I was given their number by a woman who does some work for me, whose intentions, I’m sure, were to see if she could get me a free holiday. She’d gone there today to view a presentation by the timeshare, and probably as part of the pitch was asked if she could list anyone who might be interested in the presentation and receive a free trip to either Reno or some other short-haul destination. Normally I would be peeved to know after that fact that my mobile number had been given out to some marketing company, but I didn’t mind so much this time, since I could see why she would give them the number — it was for free travel, something she knows is right up my alley.

    Thing is, I know how these timeshare presentations work — you have to be part of a couple before being eligible to view a presentation. I remember 14 years ago, in Banff, when my crazy Aussie friend Neville wangled a female co-worker to attend a presentation with him, and they pretended to be a couple. I don’t think they were very convincing, because when it came down to signing the attendant paperwork for the holiday, they couldn’t get their stories straight, and were rejected.

    Knowing this, I still answered the woman’s questions, and waited for the inevitable — for her to ask if I was married or had a significant other. The way they approach the question is by saying that the free trip is for two people, and qualify this by then asking if I have a significant other who will be joining me on this excursion. Part of me wanted to lie and say yes, just to go on the trip, since it’s available for a whole year… I considered saying yes, thinking to myself — surely I can find someone to go with me within a year? But another part of me was pissed off, thinking — Why the hell must I have a significant other to qualify for a bleeding timeshare, anyway?!?! This is so discriminatory!

    These points sprung immediately to mind:

    1) This is #$^!@# 2004 — it is entirely feasible in this day and age for a woman to pull the kind of income to afford a timeshare on her own!
    2) A couple is no less of a financial liability these days for a commitment such as a timeshare. Romantic commitments are not as stable as they used to be.
    3) Why do I feel the need to rummage around for a fake partner just to view a stinking timeshare presentation, anyway? Stuff the holiday!

    I was totally calm on the phone, but the more the woman kept talking, the less inclined I felt to pretend I had a mate… do I really want to go through the hassle of finding someone to accompany me to this presentation? Be all lovey-dovey? Rehearse what we’re going to say, how we’ll act? Then there’s the matter of finances. I’m certain they ask questions about each other’s income, and weed out the fakesters by posing questions that only couples would be able to answer.

    I decided, it’s not flipping worth it. They can keep their holiday. If I do meet someone and fall in love and want a free holiday as a bonus, I will call them.

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