Advent 2019

It's beginning to look a lot like Advent. Our church is filled with beautiful blue banners and frontal cloths and the priest's blue satin vestments. One addition this year is the Advent chapel at the front of the chancel, just under the cross--lots of candles on blue satin, sparkly, cloth covers. That is where Father Nick has Compline every Wednesday evening at 6:30. Frank and I went the first time, but missed the second one due to snow. (He has a very justified fear of slipping and falling on icy sidewalks.) Next Wednesday I will go alone because our Church Council follows immediately after Compline and goes for an hour or more. Frank would have to find somewhere to sit for an hour, waiting for me. So, again he'll have to stay home. :(

This year we actually got our Christmas cards written and mailed off in good time, I think. Our grandson came over and put up lights around our patio and Frank added lights inside our kitchen window. The Advent candles are on the coffee table, surrounded by Christmas cards we've received so far. And in a day or two, we'll pull out the little artificial tree and set it up in front of the gas fireplace that we never use. Our daughter told us how to get Christmas music of the classical type from Google Home. Just ask Google for Mid-Winter's Eve Music, and there you go.

We'll go to church on Christmas Day. Spend other days around the Holy Day with family and friends who are nearby. Then we'll start to get ready for our real celebration: Epiphany when we'll chalk the door again, and play games and eat and remember to choose gifts for the poor using a catalogue from World Vision. It's a Monday this year, but we'll celebrate at home with family on Sunday, January 5th. We'll miss the church service that day, but it's that or see family members we see so seldom. God understands.

first week of September

This time of year I get very nostalgic. I loved the first few weeks of school--new books, new notebooks, new friends. And from there on, it usually just got better. Oh yes, I had my share of grumpy teachers and mean classmates, but they were in the minority. Some courses I really disliked (math and science, usually) and some I enjoyed even if I didn't excel (history and geography). I generally did well in English, but that's to be expected of someone who is (or wants to be) a writer. And languages! I love languages. All languages. One of my favourite anecdotes I like to tell people--sometimes repeating it to the same people--so I apologize if you've heard it before, is about when I took German in high school.
It was right after the Christmas holidays, and my German teacher, Herr von Wittgenstein, met me in the hall.
"Diane!" he called out. "I would like to shake your hand." I stopped and stared. He was speaking to me?
"Yes?" I said. We shook hands.
He continued, "I have been teaching German in this school for twenty years. You are the first student to take my course, write my exam, and get 100% wrong."
I quit German that day, and switched to Latin. Much easier!
School days! How I miss them!

I'm back (from the UK) Part One

Left on May 23rd and returned June 7th, 2018. Only two weeks away from home. Almost not worth going! I've never had such a short overseas trip. I would have liked to stay longer, and go other places, but that was not practical at this time. As a result, I'm warning everyone that I'm half dreaming/planning to go back to the UK next year. By myself. No hiking trips, but maybe a bus tour.

The first part of this trip was five days in London. Strange, because I was just there 16 months ago. (January 2017) My English cousins are going to be tired of seeing me. I almost never see my Canadian cousins--it's been decades! Nevertheless, I'd still like to visit each of them--London, Oxford, Devon, and some place called S...something Coal Mines, or something (Sutton, maybe).
While in London, I had a chance to introduce my friend Genevieve to my daughter. I'd seen Genevieve last time, January 2017, the first opportunity to meet since I'd taken her for pram rides in Battersea Park, when I was about 13 years old.
Last visit with Genevieve, we went to the Tower of London, but I didn't really see as much as I'd hoped. I need more information on the Bloody Tower for a middle-grade book I'm researching. So, my daughter and I went back again this trip (just last month, but it seems like ages ago.) Unfortunately, this time the Bloody Tower was closed for preparations for a display. Drat! But, to make up for it, and even better, there was a dramatic performance of the last days of Anne Boleyn--very relevant to the research I'm doing on the Tower.

London

A hundred years ago, or more accurately, almost seventy years ago, my mother and I moved to London from Vancouver and lived there for three years. So, for me, it's sort of my childhood home. Not a happy childhood home. We arrived just a few years after WWII had ended, and my first view of the city was very dismal indeed. Bombed buildings and rationing. And people thoroughly traumatized by their experience. As a result, this Canadian kid who had never heard an air raid siren or had to spend a night in a shelter listening to the terror outside, who had never been deprived of fresh fruit or vegetables, whose experience of rationing was very limited (me)--I was not really welcome. I hated England when I lived there. And yet--despite all of the above--I always feel at home when I visit London.
We had been terribly poor in those dark post-war days, Mum and I. Sometimes we were actually homeless. One night we spent just walking around the city because we had nowhere to go. Another night, we slept in a train station, but I don't remember which one.
I feel at home there because that's where my cousins are. And even one or two friends. So the hotel was not an issue this time.

Our first night, was just to get settled. The next evening, my cousins came and picked us up and we went to the theatre. I had been able to get seven seats in the Royal Circle at the Noel Coward Theatre. The show was called "Half a Sixpence"--and I wish I could recall the names of the performers. They were amazing.

The second day, we spent visiting these same cousins, spending a wonderful evening catching up and reminiscing. Almost all of them had been to Canada at some time or another, and we had a great time. I can't bear to think this could be our last time together, as we are all getting rather long in the tooth.

The third day, I met with a friend I hadn't seen since I was about thirteen and she was about 18 months old. We met at the entrance to the Tower of London, and spent the afternoon together there. I had baby-sat for her when we had lived next door to one another in 1951. While she and I had our visit, my husband and son had a tour of London--disappointing, they said. The city is changing so much that it is hardly recognizable.

Then we caught a train to Wales.

St. David's Day

Yesterday was St. David's Day.  To celebrate the day dedicated to the patron saint of Wales, we went to a party at the Cambrian Hall.  As new members of the Welsh Society, we have been taking Welsh language lessons and have made a number of new friends. 

friend's book launch

Yesterday evening I attended a book launch at the Vancouver Public Library, in the children's section. My long-time friend, Gail Edwards has written, along with Judith Saltman, an important book about Canadian children's books. It's called Picturing Canada. It's such a pleasure to see a friend achieve this success. Gail is the head of the history department at Douglas College, and also teaches at the Library School at UBC. She has a PhD in Library Science. The book will be an important reference text for anyone interested in the history of children's illustrated literature in Canada. Of course, I bought a copy. I'll see if I can find a link to put here to help you find more information about it.

funeral #1

Tuesday afternoon we said good-bye to an amazing young woman who died a little over a week ago. Crowded church full of mourners and friends of the family. Sad celebration. Stayed for the service but not for the events that followed. Elizabeth had been a student in my Sunday School class several years ago. I learned more from her than she did from me. Wise beyond her years, even if she had lived to be a hundred. Her ninety-nine-year-old grandmother was at the funeral, saying only, "She's gone."

in memory of friends

This has been a sad week. Two friends died, one on Monday and the other on Thursday. Both from long and difficult illnesses. For each it was a release from pain and suffering. For those of us left behind, it is a time of loss. The first friend was only a girl of about nineteen. The other was in her sixties. Both before their time.
I'll continue to light votive candles for them in church. I used to light them with prayers for their release from suffering. Those prayers have been answered in ways that we might not have chosen. Now the prayers will be for their eternal peace.