February 27, 2016

Hell of a thing, time.

I’m writing from our house in Qualicum BC. It’s Saturday — the sale of the house closes on Monday. I drove over to pick up a few things — most of the furniture and household goods are going to the buyer — and, I guess, say some goodbyes.

I was here in December: my dad was in Florida dying of pancreatic cancer, and had been thrilled to get a good offer on the house. I came out to look for a box of receipts he thought was here, for use in filing Canadian taxes. There was no box. And my dad lived only another 10 days after that.

I’m sure I told the story before how we ended up here, how my parents had befriended a similarly aged couple in Connecticut in the 50s, who ended up in Vancouver in the 60s, and then on the island in the 70s. The wife of that couple passed away on Christmas Eve, basically as my dad was making a last trip to the hospital. The man of the couple came by to see me today — along with his older son, who’s my age. We said goodbye, not expecting to see each other again. After 5 decades of friendship, what’s there to show?

He’s moving to assisted living in the next few months, so they don’t need things. I did get him to take a wine glass with the logo of “our” winery etched. It’s a good keepsake.

The sun is out on Hornby Island, north across the water. Lot of things I never got around to doing in 35 years of coming here. The wife says we’ll just have to invent new traditions, and she’s right. Still, the forces are feeling a little centrifugal this day.


February 27, 2016

Folks who follow me in other ways will know that my mother in law passed away unexpectedly ten days ago. I’m in the wife’s home town, the funeral was a couple days ago, and I’m flying home tomorrow.

Sitting in the house wondering if I’ll ever be back here. Quite possibly not. Her father passed away two years ago, so there aren’t parents any longer. My niece is married, and I doubt we’d come for my brother in law’s wedding, if his gf talks him into one. I guess I’d come to his funeral — hopefully many years hence — if my niece asked us to, but that’s not obvious either. Not likely to use vacation time/funds to come here. (I’ll be in Germany for a few days next winter, but only in Bavaria, not up here in the Saarland.)

My own parents are trying to sell their summer home in BC. People kept coming to look at it when we were there last month: the market isn’t quite right for it just now, so I think we’ll be there next summer. Or not.

Eras end. I guess aging is like this.


June 12, 2015

So, the moral of the story is, go for the goofball move.

I was lying around my house a few months back, leg in a cast, listening to youtubes, feeling kind of sorry for myself. I saw one by a singer/songwriter I really like– I’ve got 3 or 4 of her albums on my ipod — and thought: what the hell. I sent her a Facebook email, the entire text of which was Missoula Montana. How about it.

Darned if she didn’t respond a couple days later with ‘I think we might be in Billings this summer.’ Naturally I replied that Missoula was more fun, and then she asked me about venues. I sent her some info, and that was that.

Until this week, when I learned that the singer is going to be playing here right after her Billings gig. Tickets went on sale this morning, and sold out in about 4 hours.

Buffalo People

May 5, 2015

How do they do it?


February 13, 2014

For no good reason, I feel like an update is in order. I’ve just gotten home (yesterday) from a ski trip to Lech, Austria. A fine time was had by all (or nearly all). Actually, most of the group came home Sunday, but I stayed on a couple of days more to visit my friend Urs in central Switzerland.

Pix are on Facebook.

Naturally, there’s some work waiting for me. It’s going to be a busy 2 or 3 months, I think.


September 29, 2013

Is anything darker than a rainy Fall night on US 12 in Idaho?  I guess so, under the laws of physics, but as an experience, it’s pretty dark.

I’ve been going to Idaho a few days a month since spring — for depositions in a case pending there.  Not much really to say about it, except that I won’t be sorry if I’m not back there for several months.  I like a couple of the lawyers in the case, and am annoyed by another of them.  I’ve seen some interesting sights — particularly Hells Canyon — and had a lively discussion about the Corps of Discovery at the Nez Perce historic site on the way down one time.  Took various different routes back — the St. Joe road up to Avery, and then over the Bitterroots to St. Regis is totally worth it.   I’ll be in Spokane for 3 days next week, but then should be home most of the rest of the month.  And really, there may not be much more travel for this one.

I’ve been in kind of a low grade panic about my workload for months, moving to mid-grade these days.  There’s nothing concrete to be done about it, though.   


September 29, 2013

I was reminded today, by an Unfogged thread, of having seen Harry Chapin on TV singing <i>Last Train to Nuremberg</i>.  I’m thinking it must have been 1972, although I guess 1973 is possible.  It was passionate, and made quite an impression on me.  Looking around on the internet this afternoon, though, I can’t find even a hint of it.  And there’s quite a lot written about Chapin.  Someday maybe I’ll get to the bottom of it.

Right now, though, I’m wearing a tie-dyed shirt.  Because were going to the Dark Star Orchestra concert tonight.  I’m sure it will be an absolute hoot.  And that we’ll be higher than kites just for breathing the air in the Wilma.

I’ve probably said before that Fall is a time of nostalgia and reflection for me.  Rainy Fall days like today especially so.  I should probably try to keep busier.


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