ACCIDENT

A write-off, bent frame etc

Three of my grandchildren pictured below were in their daddy's car when minutes ago, it was struck by another car - not critical, for which I thank God, but daddy and youngest taken by ambulance for observation. The other two have some cuts.

These three sweet ones are safe

Sunday news: All appear OK, sore and traumatized and we will wait to see their progress.
Wednesday news: The car is a write off. human body Scratches disappearing, and some bruises appearing.
Wednesday one week later: Everyone is AOK. They must purchase another vehicle. They certainly have confidence in the Honda because no door panel or hardware entered the passenger area.

A BUNCH OF NUTS - THANKSGIVING

Thanksgiving Day was a great day for my family and me.
Christine and headed for church at 9:30 AM, top up because the air was cool and damp. Great morning of music and a sermon. And then leaving the church we were welcomed by a sunny sky and warm air. Down went the top and we drove home stopping for a few groceries and a Starbucks pumpkin spice latte.

Knowing that the entire family of children and grandchildren would be coming for a harvest dinner at 4PM and Christine would be spending the afternoon preparing, I suggested that I could take three of the grandchildren in early afternoon to a NUT farm, that's right, and we would pick up hazlenuts. So that's what we did. My daughter and her three children spent part of the day together going nuts among the nut trees.

And then back home, everyone showed up and we have had a fantastic family time together. A happy thanksgiving. Between dinner and dessert, we sat together around the dinner table and each of us took a moment to express something for which we were grateful. Even the smallest one had a reason and that was that she was grateful that she has a cousin with whom she can play. Then we went for a walk and came back for pumpkin pie smothered in whip cream. Hours of conversation and hugs all around and we shut down for the night. What a wonderful day.

PAPA AND THE 3 BOYS

The photo is two years old and the 4 boys contained in it are each 2 years older. I have grown a beard since then but the other three have not. They are my three grandsons. Two of them are brothers and the third is their cousin. I cherish these kinds of moments and this one in particular because it is visually captured. It happened on an August morning at a cottage in Tulameen. I had just retired after a career of service and I was finding it difficult to adjust to life without work and I was not reacting well to a cottage full of people and busy grandchildren. I am confident I did a good job of putting off my children from every wanting to do a family vacation again. Hopefully some mending has occurred since then as they see I have grown more comfortable with who I am now and more content with the grandchildren as children. I am not always grumpy. I love the intimacy and love and the touchy, feely stuff and joking and tickling and walking and playing together and seeing them grow. These boys are close to my heart. Can you tell?

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY but I am thinking of Mom and Dad

Yes, another one. As I did my walk this morning on this cool damp morning after a day of rain, I walked with a sense of my age because my clenched hands ache with the onset of a mild arthritis that is bothersome to my painting. I didn't stay on that thought long however. I realized that while I walked on the first day of my 68th year on earth, I was thinking of my mother who sixty-eight years ago laboured to give me birth. I was her first-born child. She was twenty-five years of age. Just beginning a life as a mom. She is gone now, leaving three years ago after finishing well as she could and then her mind clouded gradually until everything became simple and mundane and controlled by others. For those other caring people I will forever be grateful. Most of all for my brother Murray and my sister in law Diane who for love alone gave endless hours to care for Mom when Dad could no longer do that and we he needed to be encouraged as he toughed life alone until he was 93 years of age. On my birthday I have thought of Mom, soft blue eyes, devoted wife, lover of Christ, nurterer to three sons, fantastic cook, proud woman, contented woman, helpful to everyone, concealer of deep inner hurt that had a long history, determined and ambitious and industrious and surprised by successes that came as a result. The woman my father fell in love with and whom he adored changed involuntarily until she barely existed but he understood this process and loved her. He taught his sons about love so that we could come through adolescence, confusion and mistakes to a mature appreciation of our mother. And when she died he taught us again when he said, "Good night sweetheart. I'll be seeing you soon." Six months later he too slipped quietly from us in 2008. And I am experiencing a birthday at this season of my life and trusting still to leave a legacy of good memories for my offspring and grandchildren. May be 68th year be productive.

Day later Birthday Postscript: We gathered at my son Jeff's home. He and Gina prepared a great meal, baked crusted Halibut which he himself caught off the west coast of Vancouver Island, salsa, great green salad (courtesy of daughter Cari), glass of Ehrenfelser. For dessert, Christine baked an egg custard pie and a chocolate pie with whipped cream. Later, everyone sang happy birthday to me, grandchildren crowding in to give me cards and a present from the whole clan. The children ripped the wrapping off because I was far too slow at it. Inside was a portable painting easel, light, easily assembled, in a carrying case - could take this to France or Fiji. This was the kind of soft celebration birthday party that I like - only my son-in-law was missing do to work. Thank you my family.

Life is too precious.

My own life is almost spent. Sure I may have many years to live. Yet my energetic working years are done. The strong blond man of my high school and college years lives only in pictures seldom viewed by anyone. My children now in their own mid years don’t remember me in my youth. In their minds they have only grown accustomed to the ‘me’ with escalating limitations. Their children will always know me ‘old.’ Grandpa I am.

I am not complaining. This is life. It’s good. There are large measures of joy and satisfaction attached to this personal definition of life in Canada.

That’s why the wounded lives of Paul and Zabeth Bayne and their children Kent, Baden and Bethany trouble me so much. That's why the Court Case, the result of which will determine whether the children can come back to their parents or whether they must be forced to become adopted children to adoptive parents, is one of the most important events in B.C. right now. It is only one family of course. However, this single case forecasts the likelihood of an overhaul of the structure, protocol, personnel and policies of this beleaguered child protection agency. It is unthinkable that the Judge's conclusion might greenlight further injustices to more innocent parents and children as zeal and power without wisdom decides the lives of citizens.

The Baynes should not be enduring this broken family unit, the financial ruin, the daily tears, the eyes of three children filled with worry and doubt about so many things that should not harass a child in Canada. For the past year I have been writing a daily blog post advocating for the return of the children to Paul and Zabeth. A final court day occurs September 21. Then the judge will take some time to write and deliver his ruling. Catch it all at my GPS site. Today I wrote my 300th entry.

WE WENT TO THE PNE

On Sunday afternoon and evening of the 29th of August all of us, Christine and I and our children's families, all eleven of us went to the PNE, Pacific National Exhibition. This year it celebrates 100 years. And of course at night there was a dazzling show designed to that theme.

We parked for $25 per vehicle, did many rides and ate PNE food and paid PNE prices and toured the prize home and stood in lineups and played games and won stuffed animals, and watched fireworks and had a blast.

FREE IS THE WAY TO GO

BC Ferry: Coastal Celebration The Coastal Celebration was the ferry we boarded at Tsawwasen on Tuesday at 10:00 AM. Christine and I and two of our friends were heading to Swartz Bay as seniors, which incidentally means 'FREE.' We left our car on this side got our tickets with $0.00 printed clearly and took our ride across the waters. We did not plan to get off and head to Victoria. Rather we were simply doing the ride there and back and enjoying the deliciously prepared buffer dinner on the return trip. As we were finishing the home bound journey we decided that it was only 12:00 PM and we could do another round trio and be back on the mainland by 3:00 PM. So we did that. What a great idea, a great meal and great day.

Coastal Celebration was built in 2008 at a length of 160 metres. It's car capacity is 370 including 32 semis. It travels at a maximum speed of 23 knots.
Vancouver (Tsawwassen) - Victoria (Swartz Bay)

Summer Day

Two of my grandsons and I, Ryan and Jayden went for a long walk at Tynehead Park this morning. Just thought I would. Ryan is 6 and Jayden is 5. We had water and oatmeal bars along. We walked over bridges that span a little river that carries salmon and trout in the high water season. We walked through forests where there many hidden stories that we developed with our imaginations. There were branches to ride like horses. There were butterflies. The three amigos had a fun time. And small diet coke cans when we got back to the van and Jayden said, "Watch grandpa, this is the first pop can I ever opened." Pffft

NOT LOST AT ALL

I shut down my theological mind occasionally to be entertained by fiction. Lost intrigued me.

First the affirmation. The final image of Jack’s eye closing, a reversal of the show’s opening moment six seasons ago, was perfect. The sideways storyline with Desmond gathering the characters to reclaim their memories of the island was warm and emotional. But here it comes. The show's ending was disappointing and contrived, maybe inevitably. Oh of course it was a jolt to learn that Jack Shepherd was in fact dead as were all the other Losties. They had been dead all along. The Oceanic air disaster was really the end of their lives. When the entire island story line that grabbed us for six seasons turned out not to matter, that was deflating. All the island particulars were insignificant. All the tumultuous action and story twists turned out to be disconnected from that final quasi-religious resolution of the plot. Life on the island had been a supernatural post-death test and everyone who mattered was destined to pass, except for Ben, who stayed out in the parking lot. The island had been a post death prep school for all who would eventually pass into the vivid white light of afterlife. A pretty good yarn.

Have you considered that LOST has not concluded at all? That it is continuing in a parallel dimension, a sideways universe that is running concurrent to our own. That is what real LOST fans are thinking.

My reality is this. “I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.”

JJ and Me

LEGACY BUILDING

Three of our grandchildren had a sleepover on Saturday night. The youngest of the three is Jayden, known as JJ and he is five years old.

On Sunday afternoon, his brother and sister were each occupied with their own activities. JJ came to my studio and I was sitting at my laptop. He came quietly to me and said, "Grandpa, can you come outside with me?"
I said, "do you want to go outside?"
JJ responded, "Can you play with me?"
I was so touched by the soft request.
"Let's go!" I said.

So we went outside, sunglasses on and started out for a long walk. As we walked we stopped to look at insects and we picked up anything that looked shiny or interesting. We headed for the hydro right of way in which spacious walkways have been constructed. I spoke to JJ about the hydro towers. JJ told me those are power lines. I asked him, "how do you know that?"

He said, "I just know it." I told him, "I am so proud of you."
JJ said, "I know a lot of things. I think that I'm a pretty smart boy."

We walked to the school yard and we did the swings and then I watched as he climbed and slid on the equipment. We continued our walk and talk and wound up at the corner store where I bought him a multi-coloured slushy. I had a coke.

The walk home was casual, conversational, and so much fun for us both, a man and his grandson. I loved it.