A Bonny Tale on Saturday

Today, I am doing a second blog post.  That's because I have a Bonny tale to tell.  

But to start at the beginning.  Bill and I walked together with Black Jack this afternoon.  Here, she is very focused on catching the ball that Bill has thrown for her.  We have just crossed over Drummond Drive, and are walking along the grass, to the right of Chancellor Blvd, heading towards the forest.  There is a lot of green space, and with Black Jack's long leash on, it feels pretty safe to let it trail, as we play some ball with her.

Here, she brings the ball back to Bill.  I love to watch them play.  

Now, we've entered the forest.  Bill did the four-leash thing today, and although he prefers his own two-leash method, he comments that Black Jack is getting a better than usual run.  But the next two pictures are in his "I hate it when that happens" category.  It might be difficult to see here, but a branch has attached itself to the leash.  That happens when the leash drags along the ground, and picks up debris in its travels.

This is the second "I hate it when that happens" photo.  That wood, half in and half out of the earth, behind the leash, has just snagged it, as they walk on.  It's not so bad when there's a second person behind (me) to free the leash.

Does anyone see a ballet slipper in these mushrooms?
A possible sign of Spring?
The walk, to this point, has been fun, but I wouldn't call it a Bonny day, until this little dog approaches Black Jack.  They begin their interaction with a hug.

Then, Bonny (we only learned her name much later) tries to assert her dominance.  Black Jack, not usually one to argue, is fine with that.  Bonny really isn't all that much bigger than Black Jack, but in this picture, she seems huge in comparison.
They play and play, as Bill and I scan the surroundings, hoping to see Bonny's human.  Some people at the golf course tell us she's been running around for a while.  Hm....  I begin to worry.  She shows every sign of following us home, and ignores our instructions when we feel it's time to stop playing.  She finds Black Jack's size just right.  Not too big and not too small.

Bill finally picks up Black Jack, and I tell Bonny to go home.  She lets me know what she thinks of that idea with a little woof.  Then she goes right on following us.  Now, Bill and I decide to use one of Black Jack's leashes to take her home.  The plan is to call the pound to see if anyone has lost a dog.  Not so easy to catch this little dog.  She stays just out of reach, even as she continues to play with Black Jack.  Each time I lean down to take her collar, she easily avoids my hand.  She is interested in the treats in my pocket, but not so much that she is willing to give up her freedom.  Finally, after many attempts, I manage to grab her collar, and attach a leash.  She isn't impressed, but then relaxes and continues to play as we head for home.

Once in our backyard, Bill goes inside to call the pound, while I watch her play with Black Jack.  Black Jack becomes little bit more assertive, which Bonny accepts as her right in her own space.  They play and play.  Both Black Jack and I like Bonny a lot.
Black Jack is having one heck of a good time.  Bonny is doubtful about her intentions, but still cooperative.
The more Bonny and Black Jack enjoy themselves, the more I feel terrible about calling the pound.  I don't want her to spend a horrible, lonely night, with no one to reassure her that this is for her own good.  Two very, very kind ladies show up with a van, and my guilt and sadness intensify.  However, they tell me we have probably saved her life, and being such a sweet little thing, more than likely, a frantic human will be calling before the evening is out.  Bonny really does not want to leave our yard, and her expression breaks my heart.  

However, I'm really happy to tell you that those ladies were right.  One of them took the trouble to call and tell Bill that Bonny's human phoned, absolutely frantic with worry about his little dog.  He is not a resident of the area, and drove her to the golf course.  When he opened the car door, she took off before he could get a leash attached.  Bonny is now home safe and sound, and I am very relieved for her.  Black Jack is quite tired tonight.  She hasn't played like that in a while.  Bill seems quite certain a second dog is not a good idea, and deep down, I guess I know it's the most sensible decision.  Too bad, though.  Bonny was perfect.  Maybe her human will call, and we can arrange a play date.

Headless dogs on Friday

Some of you may know that the Food Lady inspired me to start this blog.  Mostly, though, I stay away from dog photos, except for Black Jack, because nothing comes close to being worth a look, after the amazing shots she produces in every single post!.  But, Friday was a sunny day, and dogs were having such a blast in the park in front of my school, and they made me laugh so much, and the camera was hanging over my neck, and so I offer you the amazing Headless Dog series.  Honestly, I didn't think it was possible, but see for yourself.  They may not be clear, they may lack composition, but every single one (okay, with the exception of the last one), presents at least one dog with a missing head.

The fellow on the left was the winner of the headless shot category, paws down. 

Here, he's in the middle, but still headless.
I don't think he's shy..  at least, many aspects of his position would deny that possibility, but even in twosome shots, he hides his head.
And this one!  Wasn't there a dog in wolf's clothing or some such story?  This dog must have read it.  He's superimposed his body over the Ridgeback, and taken on the otherwise occupied and oblivious dog's head.
I finally convinced him to show his head.  Phew!  I really was worried for a while.  But, you guessed it, the other two hide theirs.
A new little spaniel appears on the scene, and you may say, "So what's headless in this shot?"  I know... that's what I thought as well.  But take a good look at the Ridgeback.  Superimposed again, is the back half of the headless wonder.
I really thought I had four complete heads in this one, but no, three and a half was the best I could do.
I think there's a headless middle dog here, although it's hard to tell which end is up.  The Ridgeback is confused as well.  As for the headless wonder, he's doing his best to present his better half (he thinks) but I do see a bit of his head.  I might add, I've used "he" and "his" all the way through this post, but I think there's a small possibility "he" could be "she".    
I was going to include this little cutie, in spite of giving the lie to "headless" in my post title, as a sheer, unadulterated SPRING joy shot.  It would have been perfect, except for the coat, which testified to the somewhat coolish temperatures.  I'm not convinced the coat was absolutely necessary, but it didn't hamper the mood, I can vouch for that.  It was impossible to do anything else but enjoy the day, maybe even as much as the dogs, as I watched them, headless or otherwise, throw themselves fully into FUN.

And the rest of my day?  Well I discovered a new cafe that didn't quite equal The Wicked, but came pretty close.  I liked the original art, the friendliness of the baristas, and the fact that it was right on my route as I walked down Granville to the Seabus Station.  I hear it's one of, if not the, best place for cheesecake in the city.  Maybe, I'll take Bill to try it out today.  He's definitely earned it.  He's been cooking and catering to my somewhat grouchy head for most of the week.  He listens and nods and says, "Don'tcha hate it when that happens?" in all the right pauses, and just makes me feel better.  Thanks, Bill!!
This was my best Friday SPRING shot.  I'm not sure what it is about it, but it makes me happy. 
There were a few bird shots too.  I saw this seagull in the Waterfront Park between the Seabus and Mosquito Creek Marina.   
And this one in the marina. 
This flicker (I'm fairly sure) was the first I've seen in North Vancouver.  I was walking towards the Seabus, around six o'clock in the evening.  The first part of the walk is quite nice, but the last part is less pleasant, as the Marina locks its gate at 4:30, and I have to go by a busy, and hillyish street.  I was feeling tired and a bit grumpy, but a taxi happened to come along right after I took this shot.  Yay...!
Here's a very bad shot of a crow that I saw in the Waterfront Park on the way to school.  I liked it because it chose to hop down the step rather than use its wings.
I took a couple of mountain shots too.  This one, from the seabus, on the way to school.  The school can be seen in this photo, something I either hadn't noticed before, or the result of a slightly different route by the seabus driver.
And this one in the evening, from just about the same place where I saw the flicker.
I love light on water, and took this from the seabus in the evening, just as it was arriving at Waterfront Station in Vancouver.  Bill met me at Greens and Gourmet, where we ate supper.  Then we came home and I pretty much crashed.  Blogging this morning has been fun - a way of remembering all the happy yesterday moments before I get going on whatever ones today will bring. 

Hope springs eternal

This post is in response to a comment from my sister, Sherrill, and one from Bill's sister, Phyllis.  Both said they would love to feel encouraged that Spring is indeed on its way.  I'm thinking Phyllis may need this more than Sherrill, since she lives in Winnipeg, where they were apparently in a deep, deep freeze yesterday.  Sherrill lives in Ottawa, and I think the temperatures there today are not all that different from ours in Vancouver.  Rather ironic that they mentioned this yesterday, just as BC was hit with varying amounts of snow.  Vancouver got off fairly lightly, but my blogging friend, dp, in a comment on Jean's blog, mentioned impressive amounts in Deroche and Jean posted the pictures to prove it in her corner of South Western BC.

Anyhow, I took a few minutes to seek out signs of Spring around the school today.  Not the most encouraging of searches, with a definite chill in the air, and a shivery feeling that sent me scuttling back into the school after only a short time.  But, as Alexander Pope said, "Hope springs eternal."

A close-up of a bud might be the strongest evidence.    

These seem to me like pussy willows, but they're greenish, when I believe they should be brown.  I cheated on this one.  I took the photo through the window in front of my desk.  
A close-up of the pussy willows, or whatever they are.  I like staring off into the window space, and imagining the buds unfolding, little by little.

I looked up that quote, "Hope springs eternal."  Well, to be truthful, Bill looked it up first, and I was intrigued to check out a few more details.  I learned that Alexander Pope is the third most quoted English poet, after Shakespeare and Tennyson. Just look at the long list of quotes attributed to him.  I also learned that at least one scientific study shows that, overall, mankind is more optimistic than not.

But even at my most optimistic, I couldn't come up with many more sign of Spring.  Then, I decided that birds getting ready to prepare a home and raise young must count.  So, one more photo of my now favorite bald eagle couple.

And one of a pair of geese, coming in to roost as the sun went down.  Oh.. and another sign of spring - the geese are roosting a little later each evening.
 I just like this crow.  I think it's the same one I photographed a couple of days ago.  I imagined it is looking at me with a friendlier expression lately.  It's leaning its head on that little branch, and I'm pretty sure there are some buds there.  I found a blog once written by a fellow who vowed he would take one new picture of a crow or crows every day for a year.  So, my repeat crow shots may be okay after all.  

Okay, I looked up to the mountains before I went, shivering, back into school, and had to admit, signs of Spring were few and far between today, but I tell you I feel it in the air.  That study of optimism was correct.  It's coming, I promise, to Ottawa and to Winnipeg too!  Hope Springs Eternal!

Lattes and Life

Yesterday, I walked into our teachers' room where we gather to eat lunch.  There are always several newspapers on the table, and conversations sometimes center around story headlines.  At the top of the front page of the Vancouver Sun, I saw this photo.  "That's Arthur!" I said.  I recognized his magnificent tattoos, and then confirmed my identification when I saw the three lattes lined up between his arms.  When I wrote the post and took the picture of him in that link, I didn't know his name.  I enjoy all the baristras at The Wicked, but Arthur was the first to stand out, and I still love to admire his tattoos as he makes his picture-perfect lattes, each one with the tender attention of an inspired artist.   

These pictures are photographs of newspaper pics, and very poor quality.  This one doesn't do Arthur justice at all, but the staff members at school, who witnessed my immediate recognition, were impressed as they quickly pointed out the article several sections back in the paper.  
There were even detailed instructions for doing one's own latte art at home.  I tried this morning, but though they make it look easy, I'm still struggling with even a rudimentary image.
I think about my addiction to beautiful lattes sometimes.  There are a few cafes about town that I really enjoy as well, perhaps 9.8's to the Wicked's 10.  Pinpointing the pleasurable aspects of a latte experience is a lengthy process but I'll try: having a few minutes friendly conversation with the barista, watching the gentle swirling image appear, sipping and savoring the flavor (no one equals the Wicked's flavor), feeling the smooth, creamy texture, and leaving for work or climbing into Bill's truck on weekends, with warm gratitude for all of the good things that came together to make the experience a great life pleasure.  Even knowing that dp, someone I've never met, understands the passion, is part of that picture.  I do think about my indulgence and realize it's a selfish one, in light of the many who lack the most basic needs.  On the other hand, maybe the fact it's so completely appreciated (rather similar to the way dogs fully immerse themselves in their joys) brings the experience a step beyond simple greed.  I don't know.  Balance in all things, I guess.  A recent Ruby Isabella post entitled "Enjoy Yourself" possibly said it best.  If you have an extra minute in your day, you can share in another of my pleasures by reading that post.  

Wondering and Waiting

On Saturday, I posted about the rabbits at Jericho Park.  That evening, I read a post in Carol's blog over at Saints.  It made the uneasiness I was trying to suppress, in the interest, perhaps of not being negative, come to the surface.  How did those rabbits come to be there and what is their quality of life?  Years ago, when I used to go there with Scott (last dog), someone told me a lady in the area buys up all the pet store rabbits, and releases them in the park, thinking she's giving them a good life.  That person said many of the rabbits are caught by owls or coyotes.  I have no idea if that was a true story.  I did feel on Saturday that the rabbits seemed strangely relaxed and secure.  With the exception of the white one, most came right out in the open, and showed no concern about Black Jack (who was quiet and on a short, short leash whenever rabbits showed up).  I was also surprised there were no large dogs on the hunt.  One lady said dogs don't go into those thickets because of the thorns.  (Hm..  maybe bramble-type bushes are good for something, after all:)  Does someone feed the rabbits?  How did they manage in the winter?  Should I be thinking about trying to rescue them?  Lots of questions. 

And waiting.  Yesterday, my hand cast came off.  A good thing, although, as with the only other cast I've ever had, sobering to see how quickly muscles, even finger ones, and even in just over three weeks, atrophy when not used.  But waiting.  I waited in a traffic jam on the Burrard Bridge (as I watched cyclists speed on by), I waited to register at the hospital, I waited for someone to take the cast off, I waited for the x-ray, I waited to see the hand assistant doctor followed by the hand expert doctor, and I waited to see the hand therapist.  Each wait required a "take-a-number" procedure.  I tried to think what Ruby Isabella would have thought about all that waiting, but mostly, I worried I would be late for school (I was, by about 15 minutes, but life went on, with no earth-shattering consequences).  Through all the waiting, at a hospital that appears to be old and over-stretched in its capacity to serve its patients, I was struck by the kindness of everyone who had a hand:) in taking care of me.  There was real concern, I felt, to make sure I would be able to do the musical work required by my job.  And, one doc even reminded me to work on strength for braking on the bike - good people, and I left (to wait for the bus to North Van), reminding myself just how fortunate I am.  We live in a good place, and waiting, with time to enjoy my book, and knowledge that my hand will work better in the long run, isn't so terrible after all.

This picture of Black Jack was taken on Saturday, a beautiful, sunny day.  I know at least one dog that loves the shade, and will, even during a walk, find a spot under a tree on someone's lawn, and just lie down, staring up as if to say, "You go ahead and walk in that hot sun if you really think it's wise."  Black Jack has never, ever lain down during a walk, and shade holds zero appeal for her.  If out in the yard, she will find the hottest, sunniest spot and lie down with a sigh of absolute contentment, usually with her eyes closed, or open just a slit.  If indoors, she does pretty much the same thing, seeking out the sunniest spot in the room.  Dogs have a way of figuring out what they like, and then enjoying it to the utmost.  When I took this picture yesterday, I thought of Ruby Isabella, from Australia.  She is another black dog who knows exactly how to get the best out of life with the least fuss and bother. 

Today was a different day, rainy at times, and dull except for about a one-minute window of sun.  Black Jack somehow found that momentary light and warmth.  I'm not sure what her expression was telling me, as I snapped the photo, but I found it endearing.    

I heard the flicker announce its arrival, shortly after I got up this morning and couldn't resist running out to take yet another picture.  It looked quite satisfied with itself, although I wondered if it wasn't just a tad embarrassed about the suet on its beak.
Fortunately, the rain stopped long enough for Black Jack and I to have a very pleasant afternoon walk along some lovely Vancouver streets.  I liked the shapes and images in this tree and thought of Jean.  Check out her comment on my Comical Duck post.  Her keen eye always seems to see images that I miss. Bill sees the lion from The Wizard of Oz here.  I thought I saw a little dog face, Black Jack saw squirrel potential, and I guess some might simply see a beautiful old tree.   
Our walk took us into the forest.  Spring greenery everywhere I looked.
The last two days, I have arrived home from our walks absolutely covered with mud - the long leash drags on the ground, and as I gather it up or release it, it leaves its mark on my pants, jacket, camera, and especially my cast.  Tomorrow, I have an appointment to see the hand doctor before work.  I have no pain in my hand now, and am hoping the doc might decide to take the cast off for good.  Bill would appreciate that, I think.  Apparently, the night before last, I bopped him in the head with it, as I slept.  So sorry, Bill!  As for me, it will feel good to properly wash my left hand, type with all of my fingers, and maybe even be able to play some of the band instruments and the piano.  Slow but sure steps back to normal, but maybe better not to get my hopes up too much.  Enjoy the moment, Ruby Isabella would say.  Good point, happy dog.  After the walk, Bill and I fit a lot into the remainder of our day - a take-out latte from The Wicked,  a movie (Wendy and Lucy) and supper at The Foundation.  A good week-end, and time now to sleep.

Three-day post of birds, bunnies and dogs

With blue skies and Spring in the air, I took lots of pictures over the past three days.  I'll start with a great walk with Black Jack at Jericho Park this morning (Saturday).  We went down the Point Grey hill, snuck through a little gate at the military grounds, and heard the tap, tap, tapping of this Flicker before we saw him.  I've always wondered why some woodpeckers will tap on metal rather than wood.  Do they like the sound, or the feel on their beaks?  Does it somehow jar the bugs loose?  Whatever the reason, the sound sure does carry.  I wonder if the nearby residents approve.  I know I still experience a thrill every time I see a Flicker.     

Black Jack and I followed that Flicker around from pole to pole, and then to some bushes, and it finally met its mate (I think) on this wire.  Poor quality photo, but I was excited to see two of them together.
We headed across 4th Avenue to Jericho Park, and saw ducks gathered at the little pond.
Black jack trembled with interest, but remained quiet as I took a few close-up shots.

Then, a couple of people appeared on the little bridge, and the ducks quacked and conversed with each other as some flew and others swam to the other end of the pond.
Black Jack and I continued on to the next little pond, which had only two ducks in it.  I heard this Red-Winged Blackbird before I saw it.  I"m beginning now to recognize and enjoy a few bird calls and sounds.  I can really understand how the musician, Olivier Messaien, became so fixated on bird sounds.  I did some analysis of his works when I went back to McGill to do some music courses in Montreal in the 1990's.  I was working on an assignment with my window open, and kept playing the same passage over and over.  All of a sudden, I looked up to discover my window ledge lined with birds.  Strange, because at first, the music doesn't sound all that birdlike to the human ear (or it didn't to me) but the birds certainly recognized their language, and slowly, I began to as well.  
We walked on to a kind of marsh pond that had all kinds of activity going on, much of it under the reeds and between the bullrushes.  Black Jack quivered and cocked her head, and I tried quite unsuccessfully to capture the beauty of the grasses, bullrushes and forest behind.
A zoomed in shot worked a little better, perhaps.

We continued on, past the last pond.
I took one more shot to record a black duck that looked different from any I've seen.  No identification yet.
As we walked around the corner, we came to the spot where Scott (my last dog) and I used to walk every morning.  I always think of an ancient TV program called Maggie Muggins (or that's what I think I remember).  She used to dance around and through trails in the mulberry bushes made by rabbits.  Black jack sensed the rabbits here long before we saw them.  When I used to walk with Scott, I always called out to the rabbits to warn them about Scott.  I'm happy to say he never caught one. 
She became really animated, but remained strangely quiet.  Not a peep out of her...
She checked out the holes and peered into the bushes..
.. but unlike the last time we walked here (Phyllis and Bill will remember that occasion), she did not make a sound.  Has she learned new hunting skills?  I was really vigilant, snapping the photos with one hand, and keeping a really short leash on her with the other.
Another view of the trails around the bushes.
Rabbits began to appear everywhere.  This white one was somewhat shy, and I think, convinced if it didn't move, we wouldn't see it.
But many of them came right out in the open.
A family here.
.. and the dearest little brown fellow.  (Well, actually, not all that little.)
When I was ready to head back home, Black Jack was extremely reluctant to come with me.  She walked slightly behind me all the way back across the park to 4th Avenue.

I took a few shots of the ocean..
..and of the city buildings across the water..
and one of the blue sky behind the trees (with one requisite crow) and then we retraced our steps back home.  A fun walk and a new Black Jack behavior to ponder.  
AND GOING BACK IN TIME TO FRIDAY...

When I walked out the door Friday morning, the Flicker was at my neighbor's feeder.  This was the first time I took a photo of it that wasn't through a window.  The sun was in my eyes, but I did manage to get a few angles that show some of its beautiful markings.  Here, the red on its face, and a hint of pinkish under its tail.
Again, just a hint of the tail color but I love the bend of its body.
Finally, its beautiful red under-feathers.
It took four shots to capture only some of what attracts me to it.  Here, the arrangement of stripes and patterns.
I start work later on Friday mornings, and I had a little time to linger at Lonsdale Quay.  These cormorants seemed fine with one seagull member at their gathering.
The close-up of these two, with sunlight on them, revealed rich colors I had never noticed before.  Up until Friday, I thought of cormorants as being black birds.
I walked along the shore, picking my way carefully over the rocks and pebbles, heading toward school.
My reward?  A seal sighting.  Very difficult to get much of a picture.
The sunlight on its back created a star.  It sure was a noisy fellow.  Its loud breathing had me worried at first.  I'm wondering if there may be two in this picture.
Then, as I rounded the corner where the river begins, I saw my first ever kingfisher.
The view looking up the river.  
One beautiful little finch, before I climbed up the rocks to the school.
As I landed on the ground above the river, I was disappointed to catch only half of this crow landing on a tree right in front of me.  That shot would have been amazing, with its wings open.  Still, I think this might be one of my better crow photos.  Finally, not a silhouette!
Before going in to school to begin my day, I looked down to the river and snapped this Barrows Goldeneye.
Much later in the day, as I was heading home, this little dog's ears caught my attention.  They were huge!  I wish I could have shown that with a front view, but this was the best I could manage.
As I walked over the Fell Street Bridge, it was almost dark, but I caught one shot of the Lions Gate.
AND EVEN FURTHER BACK TO THURSDAY.

Not so many shots on Thursday.  This one of the goose was my favorite.
The crows gathered in the Bald Eagle's roosting spot.  Quite daring behavior.  First time I've seen them do that.
One Towhee in the front of the school, but my camera didn't capture its striking red eye.
The one blue heron that I've talked about before seems to spend quite a bit of time across the river, in front of these rocks.  It's hard to get much of a shot of it, but I wanted to show its seemingly friendly relationship with the crow.   
My last photo of the day was of Tia (I hope I have her name right.)  Her human has been away for months and months, but she is lucky that one of the teachers has moved in with her, and is taking wonderful care of her.  I know he'll miss her when her human returns.  She's a beautiful and very sweet-natured dog.  
Phew!  A very, very long blog.  If you made it all the way to the end, thanks for reading!

Comical ducks on Wednesday

If I hadn't taken this picture myself, I would have sworn it came straight out of the comics.

Here it is swimming, and thanks to my new bird book, I can tell you it is a Common Merganser.  Nothing common to me about the mohawk hairdo, and the in-the-water image is striking, don't you think?  Quite the contrast to the serious, giggle-provoking expression and the turned in feet in the first photo.  

One of those just because pictures, taken on the path behind the school.This seagull was after something.  A fish, I wonder?
Back to ducks (Mallards).   Four shots from a kazillion I took of these two as they made their way along the river to a little waterfall.  I thought today that ducks have the perfect balance of beauty and comedy. 

Tuesday seabus and school views

On Tuesday, I commuted by seabus.  I took this photo in the morning, through the window, just as we were docking.

Later, at school, I checked to see if the eagles are still enjoying their favorite landing spot.  Wish I could figure out how to get a little closer for better pics.
This robin was just outside the school.  First red-breasted bird I remember seeing there.  
These geese made me think of helicopters.
The trip home on the seabus was a beauty.  

Black Jack mad me smile, later in the evening.  If I'm late giving her her bully stick, she tries a variety of reminder strategies.  This is the stare-down.

Monday observations

Monday,  I stood at the back of the school, looking across the water to downtown.  Then, I looked to the left, and for the first time ever, saw a mountain, all aglow.  Bill said it must be Mt. Washington, and that the conditions have to be absolutely clear to see it.

Then, I watched a seagull fly in, do a very thorough bathing sequence, and swim away, looking smug, or at least, satisfied.  Something seemed so human in its attention to detail.  

The fly-in from the ocean.
Lowering itself into the river water.
I could almost imagine soap and a washcloth.
The swim-away.
I always like watching birds skid into a landing.  Two geese arrived after the seagull left.
My last picture of the day before heading home was of the tangerine and teal-blue sky.

Blue Sunday

With biking out of the picture, at least until Wednesday, when I'll have another CT scan done, and more likely until after next Monday, when I hope to get my cast off, my independence is limited - not a good thing for someone who has been used to getting up and going when and where the spirit moves me.  My pattern has been to go out on the bike, and meet up with Bill a bit later in the day, a perfect solution to our differing life rhythms.  So, early Sunday morning, when Black Jack and I sat on the back steps, my desire to get out there seemed a bit thwarted.  I took a photo of a pair of finches..

And one of some geese flying overhead..
And wondered about a plan for the day.  Then, I remembered Black Jack's carrier, and the possibility of taking her on city transit.  I thought of a Stanley Park adventure, hoping maybe to find the heros doing some nest repair.  Can you see her in there?  She is the most wonderful little traveler.  Just throw a treat in the carrier, and in she goes.  I walked her up to 10th, with the carrier and my camera over my shoulder, asked her to climb in when i saw the #17 coming, and away we went.  
Have I mentioned that blue is my favorite color?  A quick pass by the heronry yielded not a sign of birds or beasts, so we headed to the lagoon.  Here, a Barrows Goldeneye in a sea of blues and greens.
It obligingly turned so I could identify it by the white bar on its face.
With her four leashes tied, Black Jack was in Heaven - no other way to describe it.
A Mallard left me just about breathless.
I didn't manage to identify this one, but thought it looked stunning against the background water colors.
It turned as well, trying, I'm sure to help me out.  
Beauty pair here.
A heron after all - watching me from a tiny island out just a bit away from shore.
A pair of seagulls.
A swan, less grumpy than some I've met.  It allowed Black Jack a fairly close (but safe) investigation. spreading its beautiful feathers, and refraining from the requisite hiss.
And speaking of requisite..  a crow.
These geese were arguing..
But stopped for the perfect photo op.
Mallard female blending with the reflections.
I missed a picture of this fellow climbing up a fellow's pant leg for treats.
It did do a little pose, though.  The fellow told me there is one person in the area who keeps treats in his pocket, and the squirrel goes right in for its loot.  That would make me a tad nervous, both for myself and the squirrel.
Blue, blue skies and seagulls everywhere.
Black Jack invited me to play ball and we played game after game.  She was one happy little dog.
Even the sand seemed blue.


I'm the king of the castle......
Lilly-of-the-Valley - perhaps my mother's favorite flower.
Black Jack and I cuddled on a bench under the warm sun, at the corner of Chilco and Alberni.  An eagle flew in the distance.  Bill came to pick us up.  Off for a Wicked latte, home for a good sleep, out again for supper, and home again to do some blogging.  A great Sunday!

Saturday's post on Sunday

Saturday was good.  It could be summed up easily:  Awake early, great woods walk with Black Jack, LOTS of sleep during the afternoon, a fun trip with Bill to The Wicked for TWO lattes, a very enjoyable visit to Tisol pet store on Arbutus where we met Kevin, the love bird, home for a great Bill supper, out for a beautiful concert and early to bed.

But, regular readers know, my days always need elaboration:)

First, my favorite shot during the woods walk.  Black Jack had a blast on her long leash, and her eyes and demeanor show that here. 

She had extended play/social interactions with three dogs.  I was surprised she was able to find any dog under this fur.  I so wanted to get a brush and clean him up a little.  A sidenote:  His owner was very kind, even stopping her cell phone conversation to make sure the dog wasn't being a nuisance.  (He wasn't.)  My thoughts on cell phone conversations when walking with your dog in beautiful forests:  Why???

This dog was with the same person, who kept walking ahead as it played with Black Jack.  Much later, she came back, looking for her dog, and complained that the only thing the silly dog wants to do is socialize.
Very sweet dog, and played beautifully too.
Third and final playmate for that walk.  Another very sweet dog.
I took this photo on the way home, just because.
No latte photos, so will skip ahead to the pet store visit.  I didn't get this lovely girl's name, but her smile and Kevin, sitting on her shoulder, were equally colorful and heartwarming.  
Kevin then transferred to this clerk's red t-shirt.  It was so clear that Kevin is not just loved, but adored, and she (they thought at first she was a he) returns the sentiment tenfold.  She kissed this fellow several times, but I snapped too late each time, in spite of my best efforts.  First, rest at ease, no live pets are sold here.  Kevin was found outside the store, lost or strayed far from home.  Huge efforts were made to find Kevin's humans, but no human ever turned up to claim her.  Finally, she became a resident of the store, and she lives, from what I could see, an absolutely wonderful life.  Thank you to the friendly clerks for letting me photograph them with Kevin.Finally, a PBO concert with Bill.  Below is Glenys, Bill's niece, with her new son, Oscar.  He was born November 27th, but is already off the charts in terms of growth.  Beautiful, beautiful Mom and son, with lots of relatives over six feet, so genes predict he'll be a tall fellow.  Glenys did not perform at this concert, but her husband, Paul, did, and very impressively, I might add.  She has been trying to take a bit of a break from performing, but did a concert as recently as last weekend in Victoria.  Quite the baby sitting challenge.  Apparently it took six different sitters to cover rehearsals and performances that weekend.  I can't help but envy the musical background Oscar is inheriting.  My favorite selection of the concert on Saturday was Charles Avison's Concerto Grosso Number 12.  The slow introduction was so exquisitely in tune, and so beautifully phrased, I have to gush, and confess a pang of joy struck my heart.  The rousing, joyful ending left me in much the same state.  To think, I didn't know this piece of music before Saturday night.  My thanks to Paul, Glenys, and all the wonderful musicians.    
And, you guessed it, home and early to bed.  Today (Sunday) was an absolutely wonderful day, with many photos, but have to sign off now, and hopefully do that post in the morning.

Friday's post on Sunday

Friday started off great, had a little blip in the middle, and ended up fine after all.  It began with a few pictures from my neighbor's garden as I left for school, some investigating of my new book "West Coast Birds" (Thank you, dp!) to try to correctly identify between house finches, pine siskins and song sparrows.  In the end, I realized from the book's descriptions that I have to take a bit more time to really listen to each individual song.  That will be a fun project for the future.  I listened a bit today (Sunday), and was absolutely intrigued by the variety of beautiful melodies.

This one could be any of the above mentioned, although it is for sure a female, if a house finch (males always more colorful).

I suspect these two are mates, so would say house finches, with the male on the left.  I think its bum is turned towards the camera.  Strangely, I could almost pick out facial features at first:)
Black-capped Chickadee.  Easy one (I think:)
Walking up to 10th, this crow stared intently, and didn't shift its gaze for my camera.  I loved its confidence.
Waiting for the bus on West Georgia (I have a variety of bus routes to school), I took  a photo of my shadow with this lady.  I used to love her, but have sadly come to find her over exposure in the advertisements at Fifth Avenue Theatre (Bill and I probably go here more often than to any other movie theatre) to be putting me off.  I did watch two children put a small green garland under her left hand, and loved their pleasure in her.
I defy anyone to tell me this pigeon's colors are not beautiful.  It was in the grass behind the bus stop.
Once in North Van, I felt so strong and well, I decided to walk a bit longer way than my normal route up to the school.  Instead of crossing over the Fell Street Bridge, I took a side street, and loved these next two shots of a creek.  One of those pockets of beauty that are easy to miss among some industrial ugliness.

This crow was by the creek.  I hate that I worry sometimes, and those thoughts linger, once established.  Here, I only noticed with the picture enlarged, that there appeared to be something circling the crow's mouth.  Hopefully, it's just a bit of the tree buds, and the crow is just fine.
The Lions seemed closer than I've noticed before.  They will serve as the "beast" portion of this post.
Along the waterfront to school, these cormorants appeared to be having a meeting, infiltrated by one crow spy.
I was happy with this shot of geese, right in front of the school.
The blip?  When I began my first class, the kids noticed a largish bruise on my forehead that had not been there previously.  it scared me, and I paid a visit to the clinic.  The good thing?  The doc felt that it wasn't serious - just a minor surface bleed (rather than subdural), with the excess showing up in my forehead.  I guess it's fairly normal to be a bit nervous right now, but my lowered confidence is not a comfortable shift away from my regularly robust self-image.  Just in case there is a new reader wondering what I'm talking about, my recent cycling accident is explained here.  Another good thing - a lovely lift home, and an interesting conversation.  The discovery that the owner of my school also loves birds and books was a new link of communication that made me happy.

Then, out with Bill for a delicious supper at  Enigma Restaurant near us, some very pleasant live music by a group called Lesismore and then, again, early to bed.  That was Friday.

Thursday's post on Sunday

I fell behind with posts this week, but took a couple of one-hand-point-and-click pictures each day, so will post separate Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday blogs, to record my thoughts as I remember them.  The weather has been fine, but one thought I've had is how to keep fingers warm, when  a cast covers the main part of the hand.  The thumb, index and middle fingers are completely exposed, about half of the 4th finger, and just a snippet of the 5th.  The added complication is that the cast is tighter than the first one, and while my fingers aren't exactly numb, the circulation is not as good as it was before.  I suppose I could wrap up the exposed parts with a scarf or something, but that doesn't feel very practical, since I can still use my left hand for certain things (even some typing as I get used to it) and appreciate that bit of support for the right.  All to say, I've had a very cold left hand all week and a somewhat cold right one, since I need it free for maneuvering Black Jack's leash, holding on during bus rides, etc.   

From Tuesday on, I felt strong enough to bus it to and from school, and felt glad to have that bit of independence. I took only one picture on Thursday, across the river by my school.  Not a long term keeper, but for some reason, I liked the interaction of crow, seagull and duck - crow busy getting food and maybe checking out its reflection, seagull discretely watching crow to see if any leftovers, and duck (I think) just trying to keep warm.  

On the way home, I stopped at Artigiano Cafe on Hornby Street.  Their lattes consistently look pretty, but the flavor, for my taste, does not measure up to The Wicked.  I notice the new Wicked location on Hornby is doing much better now, after what are probably the usual aches and pains of any new location.  I notice also that the reviews at that link are favorable. The positive about Artigiano Cafe is that it's just a half block away from The Wicked, and they stay open later, so they are more convenient for on the way home stopovers.  The baristas have always been very friendly and kind, although again, nobody replaces The Wicked.  I found this link of Artigiano doodles by Edison Yan that was somewhat fun to explore. 
Home, rather late, to one of Bill's absolutely delicious meals and early to bed.  I can't seem to sleep more than five consecutive hours, but the good thing is that, once I get up and move around, the headaches disappear without medication.  I'm calling this period my brain-healing time, and hope it will pass fairly quickly, so that I can get back to more normal sleep patterns.  That was Thursday.

Thoughts about Black Jack's origins

I adopted Black Jack from Ginger's Deathrow Rescue in Seattle, as told in one of my first posts.  I'm a bit of a hide-my-head-in-the-sand type, and when Ginger (or maybe it was Tanya, the foster mom) told me Black Jack had had a pretty rotten start to life, I didn't press her for details.  I assumed she might have been a BYB story, as it looked to me like she had had at least one littler, or maybe escaped a bad situation, and become a street dog, or some combination of those possibilities.  All I knew was what Ginger's web site explained - that she (or a hired driver) drove down to a California shelter every once in a while, picked out a dozen or so dogs from those slated for euthanasia (she said about 50 were killed every other day), brought them back to Seattle, had them neutered and vet-checked, and posted them with Pet Finder.  Ginger also described Black Jack as a Pug/Chihuahua mix.  I paid $450 for her, and didn't begrudge that at all, thinking that any money going into the rescue of more dogs would be well spent.  

I sent Ginger a good news story about Black Jack, but she didn't acknowledge it or reply to my e-mail.  Maybe she was hoping for an added donation, or maybe she was just too busy rescuing and arranging adoptions for more dogs.  I did notice that the foster mom is no longer posted at her site, but mostly, I was just happy that Black Jack has a good life now.

One day, out of curiosity, I googled "dog" and "Black Jack" and came up with this link to a horrible site, which promotes a breed called "treeing feist".  You can see a disturbing picture of squirrel carcasses lined up on the back of a pick-up truck, with bullet holes through them.  The apparent value of this supposed breed is that they find and tree squirrels, so that yahoo owners can shoot them for "sport".  Anyone knowing my love for squirrels and all animals, will understand that this web site remains in my mind as a horror show.

If anyone goes to that link, there is a picture of a dog called Raging Rocky at the bottom of the page, born in 2003, and one of the names listed as offspring of Raging Rocky is Black Jack (no pic shown at the site). I've put a picture of Raging Rocky in this post at the left, and one of my Black Jack at the right. Not a perfect comparison, since my pic doesn't show Black Jack's curly tail, nor her hind legs.  It's hard, though, not to see some similarities in their pictures, although there are also some pretty distinct differences like Black Jack's longer legs.  Black Jack is definitely obsessed with squirrels, so of course, there's always been a little question in my mind whether there is any link between her and that awful web site.

Just posting this for the record, and in case anyone has thoughts or knowledge about Treeing Feists.

Back to work

First day back to work after knocking my noggin around a couple of days ago.  Bill will drive me today, and I appreciate that and feel guilty simultaneously.  No earth-shattering revelations but stitches came out yesterday, and a few thoughts rolling around in there about why some of us are more stubborn than others, why I seem to have inherited a healthy dose of contrariness to complicate most human interactions, why it seems so all-important to  get back to as normal a routine as possible, and whether there's any way around the six-week limit on BOTH cycling AND gym.

A gift came in the mail yesterday, and I will write more about that later, but just a thank you to dp for now.  Books are such treasures, as is hand-written communication.  Meanwhile, take yourself on over to her site.  The story this morning is both funny, intriguing, and one more example of her endless supply of absolutely unique happenings (or her quick eye to take note of them).

And a few pictures from the last two days:

A house sparrow (quick identification with new book, but fairly sure) in the East garden.  Love the textures.   

A Winter Wren, maybe?
For conclusive identification, have to take better pictures, but love the patterns.
Yet another crow silhouette.
Ball game with Black Jack on Sunday.  Thanks to Oregon Sunshine for kind tips.  Will be in touch soon!
Tongue shot.
Give it to me..  now!  Please?
West garden feeder.
House finch - male?

Sky, looking West, from the front of our house, yesterday, after arriving home from stitch-taking out, TWO LARGE lattes, and a trip to Office Depot, to buy desk organization stuff.  Pictures one of these days of desk.  Gotta go.  Just thanks to kind readers and all the good people around me.  

Corgi Cute

Anyone who loves Corgis will appreciate this story, a happy follow-up from a sad one I posted last August.  The first two pictures here are a tribute to the special relationship between Andy and Miyoko, so tragically cut short when Miyoko was only two years old.

But, as I said, this is a happy story.  First, let me mention that my friendship with Andy came to be because of our dogs.  We lived on the same street in North Vancouver, and shared many favorite dog parks and trails.  Miyoko was the first dog to play with Black Jack, and I loved her.  When I heard of her passing, I was not only heartbroken, but really worried for Andy.  They had spent pretty well every minute of their lives together.  It was impossible to think of one without the other.  I feared that Andy might never be able to consider letting his defenses down that much again.  However, Andy dropped by my school for a quick chat every once in a while, and he came through the library door one day, to completely throw the focus of our small staff meeting off with the happiest of surprises.  I sat on the carpeted floor of the library, and Robin, the little treasure below, jumped into my lap and gave me wriggly, joyful kisses.  Impossible not to fall in love with her, and I was so happy for Andy, I could barely contain myself.  The other staff members present could only coo and murmur their support.  For once, I had no camera with me, so I harbored my happy secret from readers until Andy returned a couple of weeks later, as promised, so I could get some photos.  This time, he entered the music room, where I had close to 50 band students rehearsing.  Can you imagine the squeals and ooh's and ah's?  Andy and I tried to settle the kids down, but a puppy is universally appealing, and Robin was beyond cute.  After a little play on the floor, she was happy to retreat to Andy's arms.

A little nervous yawn, but to the kids, it was an adorable grin, and the ooh's and aw's intensified.

Here, the kids closest to the door reach out in frenzied friendship.  Andy tries to reassure Robin all is under control.  I snap madly away, hoping there will be at least one shot that will do beautiful Robin justice.
Andy hasn't forgotten Miyoko, but it's clear in this picture that he has found room in his heart to love again.
Sweet, beautiful Robin.
Here, she decides that it's about time to go.
Here, she takes a good look at all those squealing, happy kids with noisemakers in their hands, and decides life with Andy is REALLY good.
(note:  Andy is not yet a computer/internet fan, but I plan to work on that.  Until he starts his own Robin blog, I will do my best to keep her story updated here, and will make sure Andy sees any messages passed along.  I look forward to lots of visits and hopefully, some playdates, with Black Jack. May you and Robin have a long, active, beautiful life together, Andy!   

The Good and Ugly

So, a bike accident a week ago Friday wasn't fun, but in spite of surgery to remove a haemotoma squishing my poor old brain to one side of my skull, my literal and figurative vision has sharpened.  However, even with a cast protecting two broken bones in my left hand, this blog is way too long.  My affliction of trying to include every thought and image that occurs to me remains intact, so, my second failing of apologizing too frequently is given lots of room for scope here.  Sorry folks, but on this, my 62nd birthday, I feel the need to express appreciation for the good people, animals, birds, plants and other things in my life.  I was going to title this post, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly", but after some thought, couldn't find anything bad.  There will probably not be much dispute about the ugliness of the final two pics, but I'll leave a little space and give lots of warning for those who prefer to skip that portion of the post.  

First, Bill.  I took this photo of him as we walked in the forest yesterday.  He suggested in August that I start a blog, and I sometimes wonder if he has ever regretted that advice.  I always appreciated him, but man, that has grown to thankfulness almost beyond my power to express, over the past week.  We've been together for only a year and a half or so, and I really thought I was perfectly happy before we met, but now, I can't imagine life without him.  Since this accident, he picked up my bike, took it to the shop, picked it up again, visited every day in the hospital, brought food, corresponded with and thanked people from both my real and virtual worlds, talked with doctors and studied CT scans, gave countless massages, listened, encouraged me to be me, looked after Black Jack, shopped, cooked.....  The list feels endless.

Yesterday, he took me into the woods.  He walked Black Jack with her 4 leashes tied together (even though that isn't his normal way), let me commune with nature, posed for pictures (even though he is not comfortable with his own image), untangled Black Jack every few minutes, and just generally was his sweet, gentle self.
Here, he holds Black Jack while I do the untangling duties.  Bad pic, but look at the little smile on his face.
He continues to cook and shop, as he has done for more than a year.  The first night home, we had fresh pineapple and kiwi for dessert.  Let me count the ways?  Not possible!

Next, Mali.  She was behind me when I ran into the blackberry bushes on the causeway after the LIons Gate Bridge, heading into Vancouver.  In many ways, she has taken the brunt of the trauma for me.  She was a good friend and greatly respected colleague before.  I'm challenged to describe how that bond has deepened over the past week.  This photo was taken some months ago, when the weather was warm, and I think it shows both her inner and outer beauty.  She really wants me to stop snapping pics, but she knows how much I enjoy it, and she wouldn't for a minute, detract from my pleasure.  Hence, the big grin, but with a "please stop" look in her eyes that I easily resist, because Mali is nothing, if not forgiving.  Let me try to count a few of the ways!  Mali saw me get snagged by the brambles, watched as I lost my, if I do say so myself, calm struggle to gain control of the bike, saw the bike leave the sidewalk, saw my head and body bouncing rather horribly around, and followed my temper-tantrum walk for at least a kilometer, while I marched on, feeling little if any pain, refusing to acknowledge her existence, except to mutter indicipherable complaints and orders over my shoulder,  and boiling because I could feel my lip's instant expansion, and assuming my worth-a-fortune dental work was all lost.  I had dragged Mali, dead tired on a Friday night, out of our teachers' workroom sometime after six o'clock, where she spends more hours than possibly anyone else on staff.  We were heading to The Blenz coffee shop for a latte, and then planned to meet Bill at an Indian restaurant, where I hoped to treat her to a long overdue birthday meal and the three of us would go to a 10 o'clock showing of "The Class".  I had been excited about our plans, and was not the slightest bit impressed with the bushes nor with my cycling skills.  I apparently marched on at an excellent pace, while she called Bill to suggest he meet us somewhere near Chilco Street, the first logical spot, I thought, for a motor vehicle to make a stop.  By the end of the walk, I fully understood that getting back on the bike was not an option (it travelled straightish, at some insistence from my injured left hand but really wanted to head left).  I also was reluctantly entertaining the idea of a hospital visit for my hand and mouth.  As we reached Gilford Street at Alberni, a taxi was just dropping someone off, so Mali made a decision to lock the bikes, call Bill (who was stuck in Friday night traffic trying to reach us), ask him to pick up the bikes before meeting us at the hospital, and grab the cab to get me to the hospital.  I was somewhat impressed with the quick attention I received at St. Paul's Hospital, and Bill arrived shortly afterwards.  He and Mali watched as the emergency doc arranged for hand and leg x-rays, and then casted the two problem fingers.  The three of us left the hospital, Mali elated that my injuries weren't worse, and my mood still quite foul at the thought of six weeks in a cast, and not assured that my teeth would be okay.  Mali tried to give me her scarf, which I refused.  I found it yesterday in my pannier.  Just as we got in Bill's truck, planning to drive Mali to her home in East Van, the headache hit.  I remember moaning and saying I felt I might die (I don't think I really believed that, though), and promising to return to hospital, if only we could get Mali home first.  I really felt horrible that she had had neither birthday dinner nor movie, and wanted her to get a start on a better weekend as soon as possible.  My memory fades at this point, but Bill has filled in some details.  I passed out, getting out of the truck, and Mali remembers the doctor  who admitted me, and sent me on to VGH, being quite unkind to her, suggesting that she didn't recognize the seriousness of my head injury.  Bill stayed on to talk with the doctor and has a more favorable impression of him.  They studied the CT scan while Mali accompanied me in the ambulance.  I remember none of that trip.  Bill headed home to take care of Black Jack, while Mali stayed all night at VGH.  Her supper was a sandwich delivered by her brother, and she had no bed and little or no sleep.  She was traumatized, exhausted, and still thinking of me.  She informed people at my school, arranged for a sub for Monday, and visited me every day, bringing my favorite meals, sitting and gazing at my right eye, which remained swollen shut for a couple of days after the surgery.  I, in the meantime, slept in a morphine-induced fog for several days.  No comfort there.  While the owner of my school and another very kind colleague visited, Mali was called upon to keep conversations going while I slept about 88 of every 90 minutes.  I saw her there, appreciated her love and care, but so wanted her sad eyes, and poor tired face to find some rest.  Monday, she had posted to my blog, stayed in touch constantly, visited Capers, discussed brain-healing supplements with staff, purchased the most highly recommended one, and still put in a full day's and subsequent week's work.  Tuesday, I woke to see her sitting by my bed, sometime after 8:00 pm.  She had biked the same causeway route, wanting to check out the offending bushes.  Mali is a friend of the highest order.  I love her.                

The rest of my appreciations are in no particular order, and will have to be more brief, if I'm ever to appear at my birthday dinner this evening.  One is work/music and colleagues.  The picture below was used for a card with messages from the staff.  I had planned to keep work out of this personal blog, but have to make an exception, realizing how much I miss it! That picture is of yours truly with some students and a Victoria Symphony trombonist     who was one of several musicians to do three-day clinics with my band students last summer.  The kids and I have incredible memories of that trip. The owners of my school are very. very supportive, as is my principal.  I will keep it to that, but my gratitude knows no bounds, and I am eager, beyond measure, to return next Tuesday.

Another of my appreciations is family.  Below is my sister, Sherrill, and her husband Don.  They live in Ottawa, and may kill me for these photos, taken two Christmases ago.  Sherrill would have been here in a minute, but like Mali, is overworked and overstressed with all the demands of work, family and home life.  Fortunately, Bill was able to convince her that things were well in hand here, but I must say, I did love our phone conversation, the first day I returned home.  In this photo, Don is showing her his new glasses, and in her humorous and impish way (qualities I love in her), has just modeled them for him, giving them both a great laugh.
My sister and I share a love for all animals.  Zoe, adopted from the spca, is at the left.  Tova, her daughter's dog, also a rescue, is inspecting Zoe's ears, a habit Zoe seems to appreciate.  Zoe came home with more than a few "issues", and my sister returned her a few days after adopting her.  She then cried for several days, and her son finally insisted she go back, pay the adoption fee all over again, and bring her home for good.  It is a credit to my sister that Zoe, still with a couple of small issues, is a happy, well-adjusted dog, who will never want for a home again.
Again, I may be killed for this, but it's one of my favorite shots of Sherrill, because it brings back the impish laughter that is part of her soul.  We were playing Tiddely Winks on Christmas night, when I captured and came to treasure this expression, one I remember well from her wildish childhood escapades.
Black Jack fits under family.  This isn't a new picture, but it's pretty much an exact representation of her attitude when she met me as I arrived home after a few days away.  She loves Bill, and was just fine without me, and I have come to wonder, sometimes, if they make the most perfect of pairs, but she let me know that she was delighted to welcome me back into our clan of three.
And, The Wicked!  I love their lattes.  We've already been twice, since I arrived home Thursday!  No more to say there.
And: new family and cycling rolled into one.  Glenys (Bill's niece) took time to bring me this post card, which has sat on her mantle for some time, and which she and Paul love.  It represents Paul's racing bike, painted bright orange, and named "Orangey".  It reminded me that this accident is just a small hitch in my love of cycling.  Glenys and Paul are musicians, dear people, new parents to Oscar, and they accepted and warmly welcomed me into their lives.                                                       

Right here, I need to mention my favorite bike shop.  They don't have much of a web site (they're so popular in the neighborhood, I don't think they need one, but I'll pass on any new info as soon as I get it.)  Their shop is called "Ride On Again", and is situated at 2255 West Broadway, between Yew and Vine Street, right across from London Drugs. Don, the owner, refused to accept pay for my bike's repair.  It's not the first time he has done that.  Both he and Clint, one of his mechanics, will often sit and talk with me, if they find me in the nearby coffee shop.  They are through and through good people, know their business, and I trust them completely.  All bike shops are good, but "Ride On Again" is the best.  

And, more new family.  This card came from Phyllis, Bill's sister in Winnipeg.  She and Barrie (parents of Glenys) also welcomed me warmly into their lives, and I love them for it.  They love music and literature and good food, and travel and I guess you could say, life.  Their son, Behan, married to Cheryl-Ann, living in Gananokue, Ontario, also sent me kind wishes, and I really must get Chery-Ann's web site linked to this blog, because she does incredible work with teenage girls and self-image.  The post card (taken in Imo, Nigeria), links my thoughts to Mali and her work in Kenya, and reminds me of how much we take for granted.

Last night, these flowers, arranged and photographed by Bill, came from Jen and Neville, parents to Cooper, and creative, sensitive, fascinating souls.  Their blogs are linked at the side of mine, and really merit investigation by anyone interested in parenting, uprooting to a new province, photography, as well as any lovers of all things connected to Hallowe'en and to Alice Cooper.  I so enjoy having these three as a part of my new family.

And, neighbors.  I've mentioned my dearly loved ones just East of our house.  These Primulas were delivered by the dear lady of the house and her six-year-old (i think) granddaughter.  Again, these people have welcomed me and made me feel comfortable in the neighborhood.

They also invite me to admire their garden and birds, and take pics any time I desire.  I don't know if the pink flowers below are new buds, but no matter.  They add color and beauty to my surroundings.  I should mention my neighbors on the west side.  I haven't come to know them as well, but again, have been invited to photograph their beautiful garden, and birds.  Yesterday, in the bike shop, I met their daughter, a cyclist, but also doing her Masters in   Occupational Therapy at UBC.  There was such warmth and empathy in her eyes, as she asked about the accident, and I felt comforted to know there are supportive and caring people all about me.
Here is a less than inspiring picture of buds (again, in my East-side neighbors' garden), but as Spring arrives, I am reminded of new growth all around me, and have to add that to my Good list.

Kids.  There are quite a few of them in my life, and I sure do appreciate them.  This art arrived with the Primulas and I really enjoy it.  

Check this one out.  (Same artist)  Birds singing, sun, trees, even a flower petal taped to the page.  I'm thinking a couple of parent birds are delivering food to the little ones, but not sure of their conversation.  Guess the artist has spent a fair bit of time in her grandparents' garden:) 

Birds!  I love them, but you know that.  On Friday morning, before the accident, I stopped by the heronry at Stanley Park.  For the first time, I could see the nests clearly (no foliage).  Below is an example of one of the better-built nests (non-expert opinion).

This is the nest I watched, containing Stanley and Sue.  it looks less sound.
There were at least eleven other trees containing as many or more nests than seen in this one.  Stanley and Sue's nest is all the way to the right, at the top.
Geese (more birds) flying near my school in North Vancouver, taken the afternoon of my accident.
The next seven photos are of pigeons and seagulls, taken Wednesday morning, on the steps of the hospital.  Any regular readers will know that I also love crows, but I didn't manage any crow pics that day.  This part of my post requires that I tell you about two other good friends, Kitty and Jock.  I will not put a picture here, but will see them tonight at my birthday dinner, and ask if i might post some one day.  Kitty visited me several times in hospital, each time bringing healthy and delicious food.  Here, she sat, throwing bits of her pasta, so that I could snap photos.  She is another of those friends that I barely know how to thank.  She spends so much time thinking about her friends, I might estimate about 5% of her focus actually makes it to herself.  Jock is a cycling enthusiast, chose my bike, repaired it more times than I can count, makes me laugh, and is just a gem.  I count myself very lucky with friendships. 

As for pigeons, their colors, intent eyes, patterns, soft coos and lack of shyness are just a few of the things I love about them.   

This fellow was quite approving of Kitty's pasta.

I photographed these two through my hospital window on the 5th floor.
This one watched me check out the heron nests at Stanley Park, that Friday morning.  He finally stomped off, maybe in a bit of a huff.  He made me laugh.

Sunsets.  I took this by the school, before leaving, that same Friday.
Beautiful views.  This one from my 6th floor window, after leaving the IC ward.

These next three taken from the same window.  I never did get to see a helicopter landing on that landing pad probably a good thing. 

***THE UGLY***

***WARNING - STOP READING HERE IF YOU WISH***

Bill took this.  He asked me to smile, and I tried my best.  The swelling is still pretty bad, although my right eye has finally opened.

The stitches.  I hope to get them out on Monday.  They are ugly, no question, but I've come to find them rather beautifully done.  Thank you, Dr. Akagami.  You did well, and I appreciate you for coming on a Friday night to give my brain space to breathe.  I owe you big!!
Lastly, but not leastly, I need to mention my new virtual friends.  Special mention to my two most regular readers, I think, dp and Jean.  They've commented, suggested, encouraged, and just generally given me the feeling I'm writing for and to someone.  They have noticed and read with a critical (in the good sense) mind and empathetic view, and I am so very appreciative of their input.  There are several other blogs that have given me inspiration and bloggers who have been kind.  I am out of time and energy, but please check them out in the links at the right side of my home page.  This blogging world is fun, and I hope to be a part of it over the long term.

So, it comes down to thanks and appreciation on my 62nd birthday, with no bad, and only a smidgen of ugly.  I guess it doesn't get much better than that.