I've been sneezing constantly for the past two days. I think I caught a cold.
Lorenzo left for Mayne Island early Saturday morning and is taking the week off from work to get the cottage ready for paint and floors. I mentioned the issue we were having about the fireplace, and how we were going back to the wood stove idea. I called Lorenzo this morning and the subject came up. He became defensive, like he was ready for a fight. Turns out, he doesn't want the wood stove, wants to install a different fireplace insert, and refuses to tear down the fireplace surround that he built...

He went on to say that the guys are coming to install it on Wednesday. Case closed. I told him that if it makes him happy, then that's what we'll do. He immediately became relieved because he thought I was going to flip-out. At the end of the day, he's the one doing all the work, so if he has his heart set on a fireplace instead of a wood stove, oh well. Life's too short.

Yesterday, he crawled underneath the cottage to run the pipes for the built-in vacuum. He said it was absolutely disgusting - cob webs, spiders, etc. He duked it out with the critters and said he'll never go under there again...Somehow in the midst of his misery, he managed to take a picture for the blog!  I'm assuming he was crawling around on his stomach when this shot was taken. That's what I call dedication....

Here is another pipe he had to install - all this effort in order to keep the dust bunnies under control. I'm not sure, but I think this is where the hose will plug in...

Installing a central vac system may seem like over-kill in a cottage, but it was on sale. And once you've used one, there is no going back to using anything else. They are amazing, and the dirt and dust get carried outside - your house is twice as clean...

Lorenzo has been strapping the ceiling to prepare it for the beadboard...He has already finished the entire west side of the cottage...

I was feeling sorry for him over there with no heat, shivering and lonely, but he says that since he insulated the walls and ceilings it's toasty; he hasn't been cold at all. This is a huge change - before, even in the summer, the evenings were really chilly and you had to make a fire. He does feel a bit lonely though, and is looking forward to coming home next weekend.

So, Guido will gone for the whole week. I miss him already...he's my Scrabble buddy.

It's the MOST wonderful TIME of the YEAR!

This is great, isn't it? The kids are back in school but it still feels like summer...the season is hanging on for one final gasp before the chill of autumn sets in. What joy to wake up to that happy sunshine and a clear blue sky above - it lifts one's spirits and serves to distract us from other things that may not be going well. Like the cottage!

Last night, I was dreaming about the fireplace we're planning to install. In my dream, I was telling someone that I was concerned that it wouldn't be efficient; that we'd still have to rely on electricity to keep warm. I was also worried about some global energy meltdown and not having a woodstove to cook on. Today, Lorenzo calls me and says, "I have some bad news about the fireplace."

Our insurance requires that a certified fireplace person completes the install. Lorenzo spoke to a fellow on Salt Spring who says that the fireplace pipe has to go straight up; it can't bend the way the original woodstove pipe did. We didn't know this. Furthermore, he felt that the fireplace we purchased is not CSA approved, whatever that means.

The bad news, is that Lorenzo worked very hard building a fireplace surround that would look fantastic once it's finished. The good news, is that the fireplace was bought at a salvage yard for $150. so, if we go back to the woodstove, we haven't spent too much money. And we could use it outside - which would be very cool.

The bad news, is that we might have to tear down everything and re-install the woodstove. The good news, is that we'll have a powerful stove that heats the whole cottage. The bad news, is that we won't have an open fireplace. Worse, is that a woodstove requires so much clearance space behind it. This is what drives us crazy. It has to be so far from the wall, that furniture placement becomes exasperating. I'm going to make some phone calls tomorrow and find out if we can get away with
pushing it closer to the east wall.

So, that's what we're up against right now. Lorenzo is planing to head over either tomorrow or Friday and stay for at least a week. He wants to install the built-in vacuum, the ceiling, and all the walls. He wants it to be ready for paint & flooring by the time he leaves, which is very exciting. I am so looking forward to emptying our basement of all the stuff we've accumulated for the cottage. Right now, it is like a maze of boxes and furniture stacked up against walls. It's a Craigslist haven for critters.

*      *      *      *      *

The first week or two of school is always a giant waste of time, it seems. The students are re-arranging their schedules and they haven't even been given a supply list yet. My kids have been pretty tired the past two days - no more sleeping in until noon. I think they're in shock right now....poor precious little trinkets. I actually feel sorry for them - institutionalized all day, sitting under flourescent lights, eating their brown bread sandwiches.

*     *     *      *     *

Looks like we're having a Provincial election in May. I've been asked if I'll consider running for the Green Party again. I don't quite understand how I managed to get myself into this. You know how when you're kid, you imagine yourself in different careers? I always saw myself as being a teacher. Next to be being a teacher, I wanted to be a musician, a writer, or an artist. I ended up becoming a teacher. I never fantasized about being an athlete, a doctor, a beauty-pageant contestant...and certainly I never envisioned myself a politician. It never entered the realm of possibilities - it was as remote and impossible to me as being a parking attendant.

So how did this happen? Well, I was asked to and felt morally obligated. But did I enjoy it? Not really. It is a tremendous amount of work. You have to obtain a hundred signatures from people in your riding which means standing outside of Safeway asking for endorsements. Some people are so rude. Others will accuse you of being: a communist, a pot-smoking tree hugger, a thief who's stealing votes from the poor NDP... you get the idea.

But more than anything, it is the paperwork and bureaucracy that I disdain the most. All these computer programs, and dealing with Elections Canada, getting an Official Agent, then having to hire an auditor....paperwork and headaches galore.
And then your phone starts ringing and it's the media asking to speak to you about a variety of issues, the majority of which are irrelevant. During a debate at SFU I was asked how I felt about abolishing the senate, which I happen to be in favour of. But it was late in the evening, I was tired. I wanted to get home to my kids. When my turn came, I said something like, "Keep the senate...abolish the senate...you know, in the face of global environmental collapse I don't think it's the most salient issue right now."  Yawn...

Then your in-box is stuffed. Wackos from all corners asking you for money. Tales of woe that rival Charles Dickens. At first, I pressed the delete button. But then I started replying to some of them because they always ended their appeals with "God bless you...my father who is suffering from rickets will be most grateful."  I started amusing myself with all sorts of responses: "Sorry to hear about Pops. At least he hasn't got Ebola. Now THAT would suck. As far as money goes, I'm down to my last million and I'm saving up for a pallet of Star-Frit choppers. But if you keep praying to God, who loves you and is looking out for you, I'm sure your father's tumour will melt, you'll locate the gold bullion the army rebels buried in the desert, and all will be ticky-boo in no time!"
Sometimes I was laughing so hard that I could hardly type. Not exactly the preoccupation of a serious political candidate.

And there's the rub: the environment cannot be a political issue. It is a non-partisan crisis that should transcend party-affiliation. This is why David Suzuki has never entered the fray - it violates his principles.

Then the debates are scheduled, and you're up against the incumbent who has an entire staff of people on hand doing all their leg-work. They arrive in neatly-pressed suits, leather brief-cases, lawyers on the side-lines taking notes. Those of us in the Green Party come staggering in from the bus-stop, soaked with rain, carrying our files in a paper bag, holes in our shoes....(sniff)
And I've noticed that most people who become involved with politics - regardless of what team they happen to be on - truly enjoy the whole process. For them, it's fun. They are invigorated by it. For me, it isn't fun. It's deadly serious, and I am incapable of couching my responses in diplomatic terms, waffling on a question that may serve to alienate a potential voter, etc. I did a debate at a Muslim community centre where the women were in the back of the room and clearly not expected to utter a single word. I was disgusted by how political correctness completely impeded any sort of useful dialogue. It sickened me. And I resented going to debates at ethnic-specific forums. The questions were always the same: What will your party DO FOR US?" I felt like saying, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." But that wouldn't have been very original.

If you can't show up to the local community centre, then why should we have to google-map our way to some far-flung mosque, church, or housing co-op? I think it's wrong. It is divisive, and implies that each group's political need or agenda is so specific, so unique, that it deserves its own special assembly.

And then there were the people who show up for every single debate. They have no life. They sit there, often knitting or fiddling with their hearing aids, barking out the same barely-coherent litany of discontent, over and over again. They'll take the microphone and blither on for a half-hour until people start passing out into a coma.

I wish we could all just take a lie detector test: Ask us all a bunch of questions - any question you want; the more controversial the better. Publish the answers, and let the voters decide. No debates, no meet-your-politician, no wine and cheese, and all that phony game-playing. No millions of dollars spent on campaigns, no trees chopped down to make up a bunch of useless fliers and signs that end up in a land-fill. Wouldn't that be nice? Imagine all the corrupt, power-greedy, ambitious bald-faced liars that would be squeezed out of the whole political enterprise. The lie detector machine would probably blow a fuse - sparks flying everywhere...Christy Clark running for the fire extinguisher.

There is a reason why historically revolutions are instigated by the young. Young people have always been on the forefront of social change, and that's the way it's supposed to be. The women's movement, the civil rights movement, occupy Wall Street, the Vietnam war...etc. The older I get, the less socially engaged I feel and I know that's dangerous. But I can't help just wanting to hide away on Mayne Island, growing my own organic vegetables, learning to make soap that doesn't have a bunch of sulfates in it...

Then I think about my kids. I can't hide. There's nowhere to hide, anyway - that's an illusion. But I have absolutely no political ambition - I would not want to be an MLA or a Member of Parliament. Who would look after my bunny?

But what if there was no Green Party. No Greenpeace. No Wildlife Federation. There would be no opposition to all the planet-killers out there.

I'll have to really think about this. The good news is, the Liberals are toast either way.

Ciao for now.

I just figured out how to view my audience for this blog. I have readers in the United States, South Korea, Australia, Italy, Poland, Latvia, Germany, China, and Russia. It's a bit shocking. I'm trying to figure out how my little shack on Mayne Island could have garnered readers from such far and wide locales. It makes me feel like I should be saying something quite profound on a daily basis... Unfortunately, I'm not that talented a writer. In any case, a big welcome from Canada to you all!

There is not much to report on the cottage. Just basic tinkering as we get set to install the ceilings and walls. Buying the built-in vacuum has delayed things a bit as it has to be plumbed in. The weather is turning a bit chilly as of late, and if we don't get the walls up, there is no heat. Mayne Island can be very cold at night - even in summer I like to have flannel sheets on the bed. Lorenzo is hoping to take a week off sometime in September and just go full steam ahead. He really needs to get this finished as it's taken quite a toll on him - he doesn't like taking time away from the business and will feel a huge sense of relief when this is finally done.

*      *      *      *      *

I am wondering how it is that a nit-wit like Mitt Romney has managed to secure the Republican nomination for the presidency. This guy should have a giant eggo-waffle affixed to his forehead. One day he is adamantly pro-choice. Then he declares himself an advocate of the pro-life movement. This sort of political hypocrissy and dishonesty should throw one's entire credibility out the window. This is not a trivial issue.

Romney has a net-worth of about 250-million dollars, the bulk of which seems to be mysteriously socked away in off-shore accounts. A member of the richest one-percent he repeatedly asserts that Obama's policies have deepened the recession - blatant lies and distortions which only serve to indicate his contempt for the intelligence of the average American. He is a reflection of all that is morally bankrupt in the Republican Party. He doesn't believe global warming to be human caused; while governor of Massachussetts he cut funding for environmental protection by a third. He disagrees with the Kyoto protocol. On and on it goes...

But most disturbing to me is his religion. Not Mormonism specificially, but religion in general. His contention that social change cannot occur without "dependence on God" sends a cold chill down my spine. There are no persons more dangerous to the future of this planet than the religious. When pressed, they will generally espouse the belief that everything is ultimately pre-ordained, fated, god's will, and/or a sign of the coming apocalypse. If life sucks on earth, there is always the glory of an after-life to look forward to. We can float around on fluffy clouds while looking down on a planet in ruins. The bible gives man dominion over nature, so destroying the planet is sanctioned by God anyway. So who cares if snapping turtles are facing extinction?

There is something wrong when a politician refuses to disclose his tax returns because it's "against" his religion. And we allow it. The press allows it. No one else is granted such privacy when running for public office - every possible skeleton is revealed for public consumption -  but if you're religious, somehow you are exempt. You're protected. We now have Moslems demanding that public schools allow time away from classes for prayer. The girls have to sit behind the boys because they're second-class citizens, and if they happen to be menstruating, they can't attend prayers at all. We can't say "Merry Christmas" for fear of offending someone but we'll allow this. When did ignorance become not only acceptable, but something to be accomodated?

And who is going to stand up for freedom from religion if the United States ends up with a president who wears magic underwear? Somehow, the most important tenent of the constitution is being disregarded. The First Amendment was an acknowledgement that separation of church and state was central to American democracy. "God" should not even be allowed in any political discussion or debate; it just opens the door to medieval thinking and stupidity. Instead of moving forward, we move backward. In the year 2012 we are still debating evolution...because of religion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The summer is flying by...I can't believe it's been a week since my last gloomy post.
Since then, not much has occurred as far as the cottage is concerned as Lorenzo stayed home this weekend. I painted an old pine nightstand for my daughter's room. Pictures of furniture always look better than they do in real life; this old thing was really looking a bit worse for wear. And I dislike honey-coloured pine furniture...

A few coats of paint later, and voila! My daughter loves it.

*     *     *     *

Last Thursday, one of my son's friends came over to spend the afternoon and didn't leave for five days. His home life is wretched and he just couldn't face going back. Yesterday, he left to stay at his brother's for awhile. Lorenzo gave him some money and told him to call us if things don't work out. He has been in my thoughts ever since and I'm feeling guilty about the whole situation.

It makes me ponder the idea that it takes a village to raise a child. And how much obligation is required of us to the children of other people? I think you should reach out to whoever crosses your path in this life. This particular boy seems lost. He feels at home here - not in his own home. He has told me things that have left me speechless. There are so many kids who are growing up in screwed up situations, with parents who are abusive, addicted, unpredictable, emotionally immature, and unable to provide the most important thing to their child: a sense of safety and security.

I've been wondering if we could take on another child - and how much that would entail emotionally, financially, etc. Not to mention the change it would make in our own family. We run a pretty tight ship over here, and kids from dysfunctional homes don't always do well in a family where there is structure and routine. Some of these kids are used to way too much freedom. Awhile back, I wrote about a boy who stayed the night because he had nowhere else to go. He ended up leaving the house around 3-am... just decided to leave and go who-knows-where.  The next morning he was gone, and my son didn't know where he went. I can't have that here - it isn't how we live.  At the same time, I would never be able to turn a child away. But could I really handle it? I honestly don't know. My son is going to call him tomorrow to see how he's making out.


*     *     *     *

Well...I heard some pretty interesting news. My cousin Shannon has decided to move to Mayne Island!  How exciting is that? They're going to sell the house, pack up their lives, and get the hell out of dodge. They have two little kids who will attend the country school, breathe in fresh salty air everyday, and play on the beach - which is their back yard. Now when I go over I'll always have someone there to hang out with;  our cottages are only a five minute walk apart. I told Lorenzo that pretty soon he'll be surrounded by my family on that island - cousins everywhere!

The days are getting shorter and my wildflowers are starting to die off. Soon we'll be feeling the chill of autumn and the stores will be stocking Halloween candy. No!! I love summer so much...I hate to say goodbye to another one. But this year, the impending winter isn't as dreadful as it usually is. Our cottage will eventually be finished and will offer a wonderful respite from the monotony of the dullest season in the year. And I'll have my cousin there to drink tea with.

Here are two of my favourite places on Mayne Island: First, is the Japanese Gardens which exist to commemorate the Japanese citizens of Mayne Island who had their farms, fishing boats, and property seized during World War ll.  Local residents have volunteered their time and expertise to create this beautiful sanctuary...

My other favourite spot is the cemetery beside St. Mary Magdalene's Anglican Church. It was built in 1897.  I already have a cousin who chose this spot as his final resting place.
I think I'd like it to be mine, as well...

Lorenzo will be heading over to the cottage on Thursday evening to install the ceiling. I'll post some pictures when I get them...

Everything you read lately, at least from intelligent sources, (not the mainstream crap media) says we are headed for a global economic catastrophe. The other night, I read for about two hours - and I have to say, I felt chilled.

If you type "global economic collapse" into your search engine, and spend an hour reading, you cannot conclude otherwise. Interestingly, if you just watch the local news, you derive almost no sense of what is going on, on a global scale.

I feel a real sense of disquiet right now... Maybe we should sell everything, move to Mayne Island, install solar panels and a solar pump, grow our own food, make our own soap, and live completely off the grid. Oh, and hide our money in a shoe box under our bed because if the banks collapse, there goes the college fund. 

I hate to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but we are just not being told what is really going on - you have to look for it, which is very disturbing to me.

Check this out:
http://world.hawaiinewsdaily.com/2012/08/are-the-government-and-the-big-banks-quietly-preparing-for-an-imminent-financial-collapse/

Then read this:

http://moneymorning.com/2012/08/06/jim-rogers-issues-dramatic-warning/

Another post about the cottage...(yawn)....

Lorenzo left on Wednesday night, he'll be coming home tomorrow afternoon. Another weekend with the teenagers and their gangly throng of friends tromping through my kitchen, eating all my food, making endless racket. What's with teenage girls? They seem incapable of having a conversation that isn't punctuated with spontaneous shrieks and screams. And they eat all the ice cream - giant bowls of it. Then the boys come in and have a fit. It's just so joyous and heart-warming, all of it. Best summer ever!

I should take up marijuana - just sit there in my slippers in a haze of weed fumes, not caring what happens to my house. Adopt a bunch of cats and fill the house with lava lamps. Instead I feel like Cinderella, left to clean while everyone else is having a ball. I made the kids deep-fried chicken strips last night. I even bought a thermometer so I'd know when the oil reached 350 degrees. They turned out amazing. But my house smelled like an east-end diner today and it was sickening after awhile. So I washed all the floors, took the stove and the stove fan apart, and pretty much spent the whole day de-greasing. Fun fun fun!

Here is what Guido the Great managed to do this time. He installed our new front door...

I think it looks very cute. Then he finished ply-wooding the kitchen area. See that black pipe above the stove? That's because of the new bathroom upstairs. Lorenzo did his best to hide it, but I think it looks a bit weird...

I have to remind myself that this is a cottage, not my primary residence. Once it's painted and I stick a few Green Party stickers on it, no one will even notice...

Lorenzo also panelled the king beam. Our idea of running wire down the posts was a great idea, but it made them so huge looking because of all the wires. Anyway, here's a before and after comparison...

I haven't decided if I'm liking this or not...I've never seen posts wrap around a beam before, but whatever. It's a cottage. At this point, Lorenzo could install orange shag carpet and I don't know if I'd care... That's not true. I'd care. I grew up with shag carpet and it was hideous and every room in the house had a different colour. Ah, the seventies! Best era for music, ghastly era for interior design, fashion, and hair styles. The kitchen I grew up in looked a lot like this: dark brown cupboards, A&W orange counter tops, goofy swag lamp over the colonial dining table. We even had the exposed brick behind the stove. And this was in a Victorian house! It deserved so much better...

Well, that's all folks. I think I hear bickering in the other room. Oh, the sweet sounds of summer! The kids have been free as birds since the middle of June, which means that for nearly two months I've been listening to daily mayhem. And there's no solution for it. Three kids born within seventeen months - they can't live without each other, they share the same friends, they do everything together, and they never stop bickering.

A few weeks ago, Lorenzo called a family meeting in the living room. I think this was after the fight about the flip-flops. He asked each kid to express anything that was bothering them. My daughter was upset because one of her brothers keeps referring to her friend as "chunky."  Silence in the room. My son's face start to twitch. His brother buries his head in a pillow, laughing so hard the whole couch is shaking. So you see, it's pointless. On the bright side, they did weed the front lawn for me today, so I guess they're good for something.

Well, my hard working husband will be back tomorrow. Yay, the cavalry is coming!

On Saturday we hopped in Lorenzo's boat (aka - The Shameless Polluter) and took the kids and one of their friends to see  the fireworks. It was pretty cool seeing the display from the waters of English Bay...

It was the final night and Italy filled the sky with amazing pyrotechnics. While we were waiting for the show to begin, the kids debated whether or not a swim would be a good idea. Three teenage boys - looking very buff and manly - stood on the deck, staring down into the inky depths.  The conversation went something like this:

"Maybe it's cold."
"Probably..."
"I keep thinking a shark might grab my leg."
"There's no sharks...jelly fish maybe..."
"Seriously? That's sick." 
"You go."
"You first."
"I'll go if he goes."
"Dude, just go!"
"On the count of three."
"Whose counting?"
"I don't know...who wants to count?"

My daughter, exasperated, pushes though the group and does a flying leap into the water. Not to be outdone by this pint-sized dare devil, the boys followed suit. It was very funny. And yes, the water was cold.

Anyhow, the show lasted a half hour and then we headed back.

The ride coming home was...well,  rather terrifying. For me, not anyone else. The swells were very big and were coming up over the bow...or is it the stern?  Whatever - the front of the boat.
And there were a variety of smaller crafts driven by reckless louts who seemed to have little clue how to navigate according to the rules. It was pitch black and I found myself staring at the massive tankers in our periphery - dark and menacing - that seemed to be closing in on us.
Like vipers.

Boating in the middle of a sunny day is scary enough. At night, it is no activity for the faint-hearted. I guess I've turned into a nerd. Or maybe it's all the "disasters at sea" stories I've read over the years. I imagined us hitting a big rock (an ice-berg!) all of us flung in six directions, a drunken nitwit happily mowing us down in his seadoo-speadster...

While all these thoughts of peril were circling my brain, my daughter was stretched out - calm as a cucumber, munching on a bag of popcorn twists. The boys in the back were hooting with delight.  I was white-knuckling it the whole way home,  lamenting my lost saints who used to give me so much comfort...

The next day, I caught Marcello in one of my planter boxes. I guess the tasty flowers were a pleasant change from his usual diet. Just look at that face! (enlarge this picture!)

After we planted our dwarf crab apple trees, I threw down some wildflower seeds around the bases. They have grown as tall as the trunks...

Planted some butterfly and bumble-bee seeds in the front yard that are doing nicely as well. Loads of butterflies and bees and lady bugs...

I just finished reading such a wonderful book - "Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont" by Elizabeth Taylor. (the writer, not the actress). I commend Virago, and Persephone Books, for dusting off hundreds of manuscripts penned by women that were left to moulder into obscurity. Elizabeth Taylor is one of my favourite writers - there is only one novel left for me to read, which is terribly sad.

As you can tell, there is no news about the cottage. Lorenzo is planning to head over on Wednesday and continue on with the endless slog... With the weather being so hot, I really regretted that we weren't able to be there. There is nothing lovelier than walking the beach with the dog, watching the kids skim rocks or look for crabs, breathing in that pungent salty air, looking forward to curling up with a good book in front of the fire... The Buddhists say that all of our desires bring us pain. It is so true. If you desire nothing, you will never be disappointed. If you desire a cottage, you will suffer the pains of renovation hell, monetary depletion, physical and mental stress, and constant separation. Is it worth it?

YES.

A hundred times yes...

Lorenzo and the boys - coming back from Georgison Island