Derek

I just came across this photo. I totally remember that shirt. A group in Victoria was sending a truckload of gear to El Salvadore to help out a few years ago, and Derek was there. Like he would be.

(Wherever he was going, he would invite us to come along; stop what we were in the midst of and just come, help, be.) I imagine the truck all packed, ready to go and him jokingly being invited along to deliver the goods. If so he might have said unblinkingly, "okay, if there's room for Heather, too" And by the time they hit the Panama border he'd have a few grant applications typed and emailed off.. And he'd have caught the driver up on the goodness of God pouring His grace into the lives of various loved ones of recent days. He always told us what God was doing in his life and the lives of his friends.

I'm fluctuating between waves of such sadness for him going before Heather and their little one, and the abundance of memories; joy for having simply known him.

He was like a vigilante of goodness, expecting several miracles all at the same time.

He believed and he worked hard to accomplish good.. He was an active believer.

white christmases past

crisp cold mornings of cross country skiing

in the late '70s; hot chocolate,

crackling fire & walnuts at the schilkes

argyle cross country ski socks are the best

christmas stockings i've known.

(hoping to get out for a local ski with my mom

this year over the holidays-maybe up to manning.)

where I'm spending 'these days'

My marina, from the seawall. With a team of 8 guys, we look after 350 boats or so. Keep our eyes out for thuggy thugs and try to notice when boats are listing a little, or taking on water. We keep the place afloat, literally (the place is 100 years old)...repairing floats and sheds as needed. We also look after the members somewhat...lending an arm, and a ear for their many lively life stories.
This is my present office, from where I monitor the VHF Radio and direct boats when they call to request staying a night with us. Also I look after the "Lifter Bookings". All boats need routine annual maintenance (scrubbing all the barnacles and mussel growth off the hulls, and changing the zincs. Electrical currents in the water erode whatever metal is the softest, and so replacing zincs ensures that the electricity "attacks" the zinc (about the size of a license plate) rather that the metal keeping the ocean "out" and the sailors "in" and dry. I'm also learning about the various makes and years of hulls, so that when the boats are lifted, they are supported properly.

For example, if a member has a C&C 36' it's important for me to know if it has a "swept back fin keel" (like a pectoral fin on a shark) or a "straight keel."

This is a shot of the Rowing Club, (our neighbours to the west) who we are often confused with. The marinas flow together and so the boats on the far right are ours. The Stanley Park Seawall and Coal Harbour connect us.
This is a shot of the seawall at the end of a glorious day. If I have a little energy left in me, I sometimes meet a friend to walk or bike the perimeter. It's one of the best parts of Vancouver. I've been at the marina for nearly three years now. Intially, it was a break from hotel concierge and yacht crewing assignments. The time has passed so quickly and I enjoy the environment so much, and of course the people I work with. There may be some changes coming, so I'm enjoying it all the more while it lasts.

today

(my dock office for the next couple of months)

my boss and i are going on a

ROADTRIP TO LANGLEY today

to choose one.

i am so enjoying my current assignment.

(we're stopping off at ikea for some random bits

i'm picking up a bundle of sticks and some glogg)

i brought my knitting for the way...

working on a couple of pressies.

(i hope i'm the co-pilot)

a little Sarah Harmer on a cold day...

I love "trouble in the fields".

it sounds like a good marriage to me.

Baby, I know that we got trouble in the fields
And the bankers swarm like locusts out there, turning away our yields
And the trains roll by our silo, silver in the rain
Leave our pockets full of nothing but these dreams of the golden grain
I can see the folks lined up downtown at the station
They're all buying their tickets out and they're talking a Great Depression
Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago
When they stood out in these empty fields, in dust as deep as snow
And all this trouble in our fields
If this rain can fall these wounds can heal
They'll never take our native soil
And if we sell that new John Deere then we'll work these crops with sweat and tears
You'll be the mule, I'll be the plow
Come harvest time, we'll work it out
There's still a lot of love here in these troubled fields
There's a book up on the shelf about the dust bowl days
There's a little bit of you and a little bit of me in the photos on every page
Our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders
They don't want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder
And all this trouble in our fields
If this rain can fall these wounds can heal...

many years to the happy tappers!

This past weekend, my fellow Gershwin Tune Singing Friend Nikki invited me

to come to see the "Happy Tappers" (her Aussie Mom Sharon, being one of them)

Anyone that knows my mom knows that chances are slim she'd ever be sporting tap dance shoes and ensemble a pros pos of the occasion, so these events are especially delightful to me.

The program was held at the Arts Centre in Chilliwack; our good old home town.

35 minutes and 11 costume changes later we were beside ourselves with perma-grins and enthusiastic handclapping. I wish you could have all been there to witness the exuberance of these 50-70 year olds dressed in all the glitter of saphire sequins and satin tophats holding giant candy canes. Sharon's cheering section consisted of her daughters with their friends in tow, teenage grandkids hip enough to shrug off their coolness for the afternoon in honor of Gram, and of course her main sqeeze; proud husband Moe.

Afterward, over butter tarts and homemade bologna finger sandwiches, one of the other happy tappers approached, to commend our special brand of audience participation. She asked who we were with, to which Nikki proudly announced her mom. The tapper exclaimed, "oh course you are! that makes perfect sense! That Sharon, you know, she keeps us going."

The topper of the afternoon came when Nikki's mom collected our plates before we had finished the last bites of our butter tarts, cheekily proclaiming that now it was time for ALL to come over to their house and adore her!

They say that the company that you keep rubs off on you, so i'm sticking with sticky Nikki to see how close to our moms we get. We've been friends for 15?! odd years now...

...looking forward to the twilight years being peppered with some serious happy tapping.

an intentional pause

i like the hebrew word

selah.

an intentional pause between activities.

סלה