The first new VW Beetle, or Bug, that I owned was grey. It was the only 5 speed diesel we could find. I was driving from Parksville to Port Alberni and back every day, so the diesel engine got a real workout. I got 1000 km a tank, that was almost 2 weeks of driving. And as it was a turbo, I surprised a few 4×4 truckers going up the hump into Port Alberni. But my left knee was starting to act up and then we moved back to Port Alberni, so it was time to get rid of the standard transmission and the diesel engine. We traded it in for an automatic gas engine Salsa Red Bug.

One day Dale found an online site that sold magnets for cars. We thought daisies and ladybugs would look great on the little red Bug. And then he found daisy taillight covers. My happy little Bug was born! Surprisingly no one stole the magnets, although one did disappear. I believe it fell off because if someone took it, why wouldn’t he take them all? The magnets worked well, but one day I was driving to Nanaimo and heard a terrible noise. I pulled over to discover what it was. After several minutes of careful inspection I discovered the large daisy magnet on the driver side door had dirt underneath several of the petals and wasn’t secure. I pulled it off and continued on my way.

We decided to replace the magnets with decals. The magnets had been on the car long enough that you could see where they had been when we removed them. We got a local design company to make the daisy and ladybug decals and put them on the car. That was about about 10 years ago. Everyone in Port Alberni loved my car. People would smile and point when they saw it. I got used to smiling back and thanking people who stopped me as I was getting in or out of it to say how much they liked it.

The reaction to my Bug was different when we moved to Alberta  I think the conservative-minded Albertans thought it was the vehicle of a dope-smoking, left-leaning, granola eating, hippy-dippy crackpot. For the record, only one of those descriptions is true. Few people smiled at me, in fact I most often saw frowns and pursed lips. It was a rude awakening, given the universal positive response I got in BC.

I’ve written about this before, so why am I writing about it again? Well, fast-forward to about a week ago. I drove to a local strip mall to get my hair done and to pick up a few things at Shopper’s. It was raining lightly when I got back to my car. I got in and noticed something stuck under the windshield wiper. I was a little annoyed, thinking maybe someone had hit my car. I had been away from my car for several hours so anything could have happened. And that day, the parking lot was quite full and I was parked farther away from the salon than usual. Well, the note was not bad. In case you can’t read it, this is what it says:

“Your Beetle is wonderful! It makes me happy & smile. Thank you for sharing!”

The note was quite wet and I carefully placed it beside me. When I got home I put it on the counter to dry. Later I shared it with Dale. When it was fully dry he put it on the side of the fridge using a red VW Bug magnet we got in Newport Beach,California (that’s why it has a surfboard, dude).

We’ve talked recently about me getting a new car. I’m worried that getting Ari in and out of the back seat, first in an infant car seat and then a toddler one, will be difficult. A Bug is not a family car, the backseat is tiny. But I can’t really entertain the notion of getting rid of it, at least not right now. I’ll have to struggle through the difficulties, or make sure I have Dale’s Explorer when I have Ari. I think I would pay big money to see Dale drive my Bug to work, the longshoremen would appreciate it I’m sure!

It’s a sunny day, a rare surprise these days. The sound of rain has been a constant companion for the last few weeks, however, it’s one companion I don’t miss when it goes away. I am sitting on the edge of the couch in my son and daughter-in-law’s house. Ari is sleeping on the ottoman, snug in his little cot, covered in a soft blanket. The TV is on, some home show, but I’m not really watching it. My attention is on the darling little boy in front of me.

He’s a restless, noisy sleeper. He often stretches and moves, accompanied by little vocalizations. His eyes flicker and sometimes partially open. He’s not sleeping deeply. When I move the couch creaks and he reacts to it. I’m fascinated by the expressions that pass over his face. Every now and then his face turns red, and his face crinkles up likes he’s about to start crying. I get up, ready to pick him up if the crying starts. He wiggles a little, sobs once than settles back to sleep. Sometimes he frowns, looking so sad but it passes and he sleeps on. Every now and then he gives a big sigh and seems to fall deeper asleep. Then he’ll stretch and make the sound that everyone makes when they stretch, that long drawn out sound that makes the stretch feel better. His chest goes up and down, his chin woggles as he makes a little sucking motion, some self-soothing instinct. His arms come up by his face, he pulls his legs up and squeaks at both ends. He stretches out again, his little hands in fists up by his head, the classic newborn sleeping pose. He stays like that for a while, then stretches again, this time turning his head to the other side. One deep breath and he settles again.

He was active this morning. My daughter-in-law said he only napped for about half an hour. He didn’t want to settle. She gave him a bath and fed him just before I arrived. She put him into my arms and went upstairs. He looked at me as I stood rocking back and forth, patting his little bottom. His eyes rolled a couple of times as he fought going to sleep. But the warm bath, his full tummy and the rocking motion broke down his defences. Less than 10 minutes after my arrival he was asleep. I held him for a bit then put him in his cot.

I don’t think I ever sat for hours and watched my boys when they were babies. There was always something to do, but as a MeMe my only job here is to watch him, to sit close by and marvel at the miracle that he is. His little frowns and his one-sided smiles, and yes they are smiles, melt my heart. His face stays with me all day. I see it in my mind’s eye when I wake up. It flits through my mind during the day and it’s one of the last things I think about before I go to sleep.

He’s sleeping now but I’ve had some visits with him where he’s been alert, his eyes wide and focussed. He’s starting to make little sounds when he’s awake, purposeful sounds, in response to us talking to him. He sometimes really looks at us, trying to figure out who we are. He knows his mommy’s and daddy’s voices and I hope he’ll soon recognize ours.

Ending up here on the coast was a blessing, although going through everything was very stressful. But all of those events led to here, to being close by and able to help out. To say it was all worth it is the understatement of all time. I guess the universe knew what it was doing.

Now, I must stop writing. I think the cutest, sweetest little boy in the world is waking up. He opened his eyes, saw his MeMe and smiled. Life is very good y’all, very good indeed.

Several months ago Dale made a comment in passing about liking the Ford Explorers. I saw one a while later and commented offhandedly that they were okay. Two days later Dale came home with a new vehicle as he felt I had “approved him” to go buy one. We’ve had that conversation before, I should have known better.  I have tried to get him to say he likes chocolate diamonds and Chanel purses but he’s too savvy. In one of our discussions about spending I said I wanted us to join a gym and work with a personal trainer. As I had him over a barrel, he couldn’t really object to this small expense. So, we’ve been hitting the gym for the last couple of months.

My gym situation is unique. I’ve had a bad knee for decades. It started with a surgery for an ACL repair in 1987 and a subsequent meniscus removal. I worked hard to rehabilitate my knee and I skied and played slow-pitch for years after. But my knee always bothered me. It became inflamed with overuse and I sometimes swallowed Advil like candy. I remember once we were on a little weekend getaway in Victoria. I was limping badly and in a lot of pain. Suddenly we saw a cane in the corner of an antique store we were in. I hobbled over to it and jokingly said that perhaps I should buy it. Dale came over and remarked that it was a good idea. The cane was exactly the right size; it was like it appeared just when I needed it. We bought it and it saved the weekend.

I didn’t use it often. In fact, in Leduc, I didn’t use it at all. I even danced in a musical. But I remember being stiff and sore when we were packing up the house. When we lived in downtown Vancouver, my ideal location, I was out walking every day. And I was taking Advil every morning before I headed out. When we moved into this townhouse, I remember being in so much pain that I thought it would never go away. Finally I bowed to the pressure from my family and went to the doctor. He sent me to get an x-ray. It showed that I have moderate to severe osteoarthritis. I knew that’s what it would show. Then I went to an orthopaedic surgeon who said eventually I would need a knee replacement, but not now. He gave me a prescription for an injection that costs several hundred dollars and that works for less than half of the people who get it. I held off on filling it. But then this summer my knee pain increased exponentially. I started walking with a cane if I had to go more than a block or so. I couldn’t sleep. I went back to my doctor who prescribed Celebrex. Within several days my pain was gone. The seemingly permanent swelling in my knee subsided. I finally felt that I could tackle the extra pounds that had crept in because it hurt to move. Not moving meant I gained weight which put more stress on my knee, which made it hurt more – you see the pattern. Also, one side effect of Celebrex is that it can increase blood pressure, regular exercise would help to keep it down. And the rheumatologist I saw said even a small weight loss would help.

So, here we are, two months into our gym membership. The pounds are coming off slowly, but I feel better, stronger. We have a kick-boxing session on Tuesdays, a circuit training session on Wednesdays and an hour bootcamp on Saturday mornings. If I don’t have a rehearsal on Monday nights I go to circuit training with Dale. If I do have rehearsal, I go to the gym by myself in the morning. I do a mile on the elliptical machine and two miles on the stationary bike. I do that routine on Thursday and Friday mornings too, so I’m in the gym every day except Sunday. The personal trainers are awesome. They provide me with alternative exercises when I can’t do something because of my knee.

I still walk with a cane. My knee is permanently damaged and it doesn’t like to bend but the pain is under control. My leg muscles are getting stronger and helping to support the joint. Dale is at the gym most days too, and we have changed our eating habits. We have increased our intake of fruits and vegetables and decreased our carbs. I can’t remember the last time we had bread in the house! When I make cookies for the kids at rehearsals I limit myself to one, a treat in the afternoon with a cup of tea. Eventually I will need a knee replacement, but that’s way down the road.

So why the push to be fit now? Well, being fit and losing weight will increase our odds to having a longer, happier, healthier life. And now we have Ari, our amazing grandchild. We want to be able to do fun things with him as he grows up and research has shown that it’s never too late to make a change. So change is afoot, and my sore abs are proof of that!

I just got home from holding my week-old grandson Ari for the better part of two hours. I arrived just after his feeding, so he was full and dry and sleepy. I was able to carry on  conversations with my son and daughter-in-law, but really I was totally focussed on my grandson. The micro-expressions that crossed his face were fascinating. I revelled in his every stretch and movement. Every change brought a smile to my face. Honestly, I could hold him and look at him for hours, well, I guess I did, but I mean for longer than two hours. But that can’t happen, because a week-old baby needs to feed every two hours. But enough about my visit, let me tell you the story of how we became MeMe and Poppy.

In April I wrote about how our son and daughter-in-law broke the news to us that we were going to be grandparents. A little later on we got ultrasound images. Then before we went on our trip to the Maritimes we discovered that the baby was a boy. We kept the secret until it was announced at the gender-reveal party that took place while we were away. Then at a family dinner, they told us his name. Several months later we decided on our grandparent names. I was going to be MeMe and Dale was going to be Poppy. All these little things made the time we had to wait bearable, because of course, the pregnancy and waiting was all about us. I’m sure my daughter-in-law would agree!

As October grew nearer and the due date approached, we started bringing our phones up into the bedroom with us at night. I had to admonish Dale one afternoon when we tried to reach him and his phone was in the house instead of with him on his errands. We were on high alert all the time. But a doctor’s appointment just before the due date revealed that things were not quite ready. We relaxed a little, and that should tell you something, because that’s when things happen.

On the day before Ari was born, I spent most of the day on the couch binge-watching “Call the Midwife” on Netflix. It was a rainy day and I was content to wile away the hours wrapped up in tales of childbirth. On the day Ari was born I was at rehearsal. Being a responsible actor, I turned the sound on my phone off. I checked it before we started and then again when we had a break. Nothing. But when I checked it again near the end of rehearsal there were several missed calls, several texts and one voicemail. A photograph showed an IV bag, so I thought that meant our daughter-in-law was in the hospital, that she was in labour. I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t read the texts. Instead, I moved off to the side and listened to the voicemail. Dale informed me Ari had arrived. Holding back the tears, I went to my bag and got my glasses. I read the texts that our son had sent. Usually I stay behind, helping clean up after rehearsal, but I left as soon as the director said we could go. On the ride home I called my husband to get more details. I believe I started the call with “OMG! OMG! OMG!”

Ari was born at 2:53 pm. Our son texted me at 2:59. I texted him back at 3:39. By 4:45 we were on our way to the hospital, after getting balloons, Gatorade – not blue! – and Tylenol.  In the hour between the first text and me getting home, Dale had gone to Toys R Us to get a stuffed lion (Ari means lion in Hebrew).  We were at the hospital, waiting on the Maternity Floor by 5:00. Our son texted us to say they were still in the labour/delivery room on the second floor, so we made our way to the waiting room there. The hospital was quiet and we weren’t sure we were in the right place, but we settled in to wait. After a few minutes I had to use the bathroom. Dale said as soon as I went someone would come to get us, and sure enough that happened. As I was walking back down the hallway toward the waiting room I could hear our daughter-in-law’s voice. I turned the corner and saw her standing there in her hospital gown looking tired but incredibly happy and beautiful. I hugged her and congratulated her and then she took us into her room.

The room was dim and we could see our son sitting in a chair in the corner. He had a tiny bundle in a blue towel on his chest. I snapped a photo as Dale approached. I will never forget the look on our son’s face. It was one of pride, joy, exhaustion and fear; kind of “look what I did Dad, now what?” He looked so comfortable holding his son, so natural but still so overwhelmed. We took turns holding Ari and marvelling at him. A little later our younger son and his girlfriend arrived. It was so amazing, having everyone we loved so much in one room. The nurse came in and needed our daughter-in-law, so we gave them some privacy and headed up to the maternity floor waiting room.

We didn’t have to wait long before the new family came by. We gave them some time to settle in and then visited with them in the larger, more comfortable room. After just a little while we could see that our daughter-in-law was flagging, the adrenalin and emotion that had been sustaining her was wearing off. After hugs and kisses we left. We were still on a high, after all, we hadn’t gone through the day and a half of labour. We kept looking at each other, and calling each other by our grandparent names.

Now, he’s a week old, and we are all still enthralled. It’s hard to put into words, but all the other grandparents out there know what I mean. There is nothing more powerful than seeing your child holding his/her child. Words don’t do the feeling justice. Just as there are no real words to describe how you feel holding your grandchild when he is just a few days old. It’s all encompassing love and joy. I can’t imagine how it will feel when he actually smiles at me, or recognizes my face or voice, or says my name. I weep now thinking of it.

As a very wise but smart ass person once said, if I had known how wonderful it would be to have grandchildren, I would have had them first.

Dale was away on business this week and so I was ready for an adventure today. We had breakfast and then went to check out an interesting little area of Pitt Meadows I had visited for a rehearsal. We went to the end of Harris Road then turned left at the park, you have to turn left, there’s no other way to go. We continued down to the round-about and took the first exit into Osprey Village. When I had been there before it was a sunny Sunday afternoon. The streets and shops were busy and looked like a happening little place. Today it was quiet. It wasn’t raining but it had been and so people had made other plans.

We drove around the village square area and then noticed an open house sign at one of the brick-faced townhouses. We parked and went in, just to see what it was like and how much it was. It was older than our townhouse and smaller, but it was worth a look. The area is charming but a little out of the way. We’ll be back again next summer, to have an ice cream or something and enjoy the sunshine and the bustle. Maybe we’ll walk through the trails at the park area too.

We drove back up Harris to the Langley Farm Market outlet in Pitt Meadows. We shopped and then drove to the Maple Ridge Farmer’s Market in the park at Haney Place. We walked around but didn’t find anything to buy. We needed something for dinner so Dale suggested a trip to Costco. That was a treat. Everybody and their grandparents were at Costco. The parking lot was full and pedestrians were walking everywhere. Dale let me out  near the front and went to park. I got a cart and waited for him.

Inside we bobbed and weaved through the sea of shoppers to get the few things we needed. Surprisingly we got through the check-out quickly, and then we decided to have lunch. Of course there was no place to sit so we ate standing up. Boy, am I an easy and cheap lunch date! The real adventure started when we left the store.

The parking lot was still crazy; people double-parked waiting for vehicles to pull out so they could pull in, shoppers pushing carts down the middle of the lot, other people leaving carts in random places. Some parts of the parking lot were impassable. We waited for several drivers to clear the area before we could get to our car. We unloaded our shopping and I took the cart back to the corral. It took several maneuvers for Dale to get out, there were cars in both directions waiting to get into our spot.

As we went through the parking lot to get to the exit, we noticed an older woman pulling slowly out of her spot. She had a very flat tire on the passenger side rear wheel. I got out to tell her and she said she didn’t have far to go. Dale leaned out of his window to tell me she couldn’t drive on it. I relayed the message. She said she had no choice but to drive on it. I asked her if she had a spare, she didn’t know. I told her to pull back into her spot and we would, well Dale would, change her tire. Of course, the drivers who were waiting for her spot were annoyed but tough. Dale found a parking spot close by.

There was a spare tire in the trunk. Dale got to work and I stood and chatted to the woman. She told me she had never had a flat tire before, and that she didn’t often drive. The car belonged to her son. Dale changed the tire quickly and we told her to drive home safely. No one stopped to help, but an old guy did make a comment in passing. I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t stopped her. I hope someone else would have. But we were in that place at that time, so I guess it was our responsibility, our chance to do an act of kindness, to build up some good karma.

Recently I read a Facebook post about people who were supposed to be in the twin towers working on 9-11 but for various reasons they weren’t. The premise was that sometimes we are right where we are supposed to be for reasons we don’t know. I also read a blog post that said believing that everything happens for a reason is pure crap. Whatever, who knows. But today, after all our little side trips and stops, we were there in the right place at the right time to help.

I had a busy day yesterday, well, busy is relative when you’re retired, but busy for me. I got up early and went to the gym to work out. Dale and I gifted ourselves gym memberships this year. I try to get there a couple of mornings a week and we go to evening classes three or four times a week. Anyway, I got up, dressed, washed my face, put my hair into a ponytail and drove to the gym. There were only a few people there. I got onto the elliptical machine, put in my headphones, selected my fitness playlist and got moving. The first song was “Paradise by the Dashboard Lights” by Meatloaf. The best! I had set the screen on the machine to a hike in Yosemite National Park so I enjoyed the view and the music and I got sweaty. After a mile I got off and went to the stationary bike. I biked through the city of Reims for two miles then cooled down for three minutes. my short workout completed, i grabbed my stuff and left.

At home I made my breakfast and settled down to watch my morning talk shows. Later I showered, styled my hair and dressed for a trip to the city. I had an appointment with a rheumatologist in Vancouver. I had been checking Google maps obsessively ever since getting notification of the appointment. The easiest route to West Broadway seemed to take between 36 and 42 minutes, depending on the time of day. I didn’t believe that. My appointment was at 3:00, I left at 1:00. Okay, so I have a pathological fear of being late. Consequently I am always early. Often it means sitting in my car until someone arrives. I am almost always the first person to show up for an audition or a rehearsal. I need to get over that. But I figured if I was early for this appointment I could sit and have a cup of tea and people watch. So that’s exactly what I did.

I got to the location in about 38 minutes, okay, so Google maps was right. I found a great parking spot and used an app to pay for it. That just amazes me, that I can open my phone, select an app, put in the number from the parking meter and pay for parking! It’s amazing that that technology exists and that I’m technologically savvy enough to use it! I walked to the location, just to make sure I knew where it was and then I walked back to a lovely little tea shop I had passed. I ordered my tea and went to a table by the window. My tea came and I as I waited for it to steep, I checked out the people going by.

I was close to the hospital so I saw a lot of people going by in colourful scrubs, with hospital IDs on lanyards around their necks. Most people were dressed in casual clothes, although a few people in business attire went by too. I saw some families go by. One family had a little boy who was carrying a plastic dinosaur. He dropped it a couple of times so his dad picked it up and kept walking. The little boy sat down on the sidewalk, crying for his toy. The dad kept walking. The mom tried to convince the little boy to get up. Finally, with a look of frustration directed towards the dad, she picked the little boy up and carried him. I wondered how long they had been walking. I hoped they were almost at the car, everyone seemed done.

I saw an older lady walking with two other women. The sidewalk was uneven and she was walking tentatively, leaning heavily on her cane. She must have caught her foot on an edge and she fell. The women with her immediately went to her aid, but so did the people around her. She was fine, a little embarrassed, but fine. It was nice to see people cared enough to get involved, although there were some young people sitting on the sidewalks with signs asking for money. Most people were ignoring them.

I went to my appointment a little early, figuring there would be paperwork to fill out. There was. The office was very efficient. I was taken into an office for a chat with a nurse first. After a short wait the doctor came in, right on time. He asked some questions and then examined my knee and my hips. We discussed pain management and the next steps. As a rheumatologist, he couldn’t really help me with my osteoarthritis, except that he could give me an injection that my doctor didn’t feel comfortable giving me. He gave me information about it and I was on my way.

The drive home took much, much longer. The traffic was heavier and I had to go through some construction zones that I didn’t have to go through on the way in. At one point the traffic was moving very slowly, as three lanes merged into two and then into one through the construction. There was a left-turn lane that was free and of course, some a$$h@le drivers would speed down it and then merge right. I had to shake my head. Did they think all the other drivers were too stupid to use all the lanes? And did they think the left turn arrows painted on the road and the left turn signs were just suggestions? I also shook my head at the drivers ahead of me who changed lanes constantly. It really didn’t help them get further ahead, although the traffic in the far right lane was moving better because they weren’t dealing with the drivers in the left lane trying to get back in. I was happy to see that everyone cooperated at the place were the two lanes merged into one. We played onesies, you go I go, just as we should. Getting frustrated in traffic is an exercise in futility. I just sit and listen to the music. I stay in my lane and yes, I let the a$$h@les who boom down the left lane in.

I got home in time to make and eat dinner before rehearsal. On part of the drive there I was behind a driver with long hair. I’m going to say it was a man. Suddenly he started shaking his head violently, his hair whipping around. Of course, his car reacted. He went back and forth in his lane, forcing the drivers on either side to react. He did this several times. At first I though he was bopping to the music but after a while I wondered if there was a bug or a bee in his hair. Thankfully, he didn’t cause an accident. I fell back and lost him in the traffic.

The drive home was also was a little hairy, sorry I couldn’t resist! A big black truck pulled up on my left at a red light. When the light turned green and we started to move through the intersection he drifted towards my lane. I honked my horn, he corrected and sped off. The same thing happened at the next light. However this time he didn’t speed off, he stayed beside me, drifting into my lane until finally I fell back. He didn’t signal but he moved in front of me, into my lane. He stayed in front of me for a bit then sped off. Maybe he couldn’t see my bright red car on his right from his seat up so high. But he knew I was there. Maybe he thought I really was a bug and thus not worthy of his notice. Whatever. A$$h@le.

After my traffic ordeals I decided I needed chocolate. Thankfully stores in the city stay open late. I quickly shopped and went home. I made myself a cup of tea, had a couple of squares of a giant Cadbury fruit and nut bar and then had a bath. The day started and ended well, and the a$$h@le drivers didn’t really have that much of impact but they provide good fodder for blogs.

This summer I auditioned for a play. I didn’t get a part, I didn’t even get a callback. As it was the only play I had auditioned for, I thought I had missed out on being in a production this fall. There were no other auditions coming up but I still checked the community theatre sites every day, hoping that something would come up. And wouldn’t you know, something did.

A new theatre group, called The Naked Stage, was starting up something new, at least new to this area. Instead of mounting full productions they would present dramatic readings of plays. People have been doing this for years in places like Mexico, where theatre-minded people go for lengthy holidays and want to do theatre but they don’t have access to stages and costumes and props. But they do have lobbies and restaurants and photocopiers, so they get scripts and they practice. And when they’re ready, they perform. Seniors groups have been doing this among themselves but now the great minds behind The Naked Stage wanted to bring it to everyone. Their choice for the inaugural performance; a Broadway winner from the early 60s “Any Wednesday”.

The audition process was easy. All they wanted us to do was read something of our choice for a minute. That’s it. So I pulled out a Maeve Binchy novel and found one of her great narrative sections to read. I practiced for a couple of days and then I drove to the audition site. It was easy-peasy. I read too fast, but the director asked me to try again, slower. He liked what he heard and that night I got a call offering me a part. Of course, I accepted! Yay! I would be rehearsing again.

We met a couple of days later. The director summarized the play and we started reading. The director had re-typed the play, removing all the stage directions, except for entrances, exits and sound effects. The cast gelled right away. We fell quickly into our roles, even the newbie. The woman playing the younger female didn’t plan to audition. She walked into the audition place looking for the gallery. Her friend had a photo entered in an art show. However, she was at the wrong place. As she was leaving, someone asked her to audition; she did and she got the role. What a great way to get involved in theatre! Having the script on stage alleviates the need to memorize the lines, there’s no blocking to remember, no entrance cues to get right. All she had to do was find her character and play with the way she delivered her lines.

We only had a couple of rehearsal readings but I know we all read and re-read the play, looking for motivation and clarification. We discussed some of our ideas at these rehearsals but honestly, the most meaningful discussions were as we waited in the Green Room before the performances and then as we puttered around backstage before we left after the shows.

As anything presented on a shoestring and with limited preparation time, we had some difficulties. We made some realizations about line delivery and characterization on the last (third) performance. We didn’t really have a tech rehearsal, and that showed. We got phone rings when there should have been the pop of a champagne cork. One night the sound never came. We ad-libbed lines, giving the guy in the booth time to find the cue and play it. He didn’t and finally someone in the audience provided it, by popping the side of his cheek. We all laughed and got on with it. The last show the phone rings didn’t come. After waiting a beat, I turned to the actor whose line was next, and asked him “Is that the phone?”. He grinned back, said yes and then read his lines. The audience was always great when these things happened.

The director told us the show would be like a radio play. But it wasn’t. We gestured and used facial expressions. We looked at each other. Sometimes that meant leaning past another actor because we were sitting on stools in a line on the stage. We flipped pages angrily or sorrowfully as the situation warranted. We spun away distainfully on our chairs as we exited, or we turned slowly, giving a last look at the people we were leaving. We were acting, with our whole bodies not just our voices.

It was amazing. The audiences were fully engaged, laughing and gasping. They were invested in our characters. My husband came to our final performance, out of duty I’m sure. But he told me later it was much more than he expected. He was skeptical about the premise, but it worked for him. And he’s not the most creative and imaginative person I know, so think how great it would be for someone really endowed with those characteristics!

So, my theatre friends, think about auditioning for a production of The Naked Stage. It’s not time consuming but it’s very fulfilling. And to my theatre-going friends, go see one of their shows. You’ll have a great time. Check them out online: www.nakedstage.net

We woke to heavy rain on Saturday morning. It lulled us back to sleep so we had a late start to the morning. The chill in the air made us feel like having a big breakfast so I cut oranges, fried ham and flipped eggs. We turned on the TV and ate on the couch, and drank a couple pots of tea. We cleaned up and then went about our regular Saturday morning chores. The rain stopped by late afternoon, and I had a glorious drive to the theatre in the sunshine. It seemed like leaves had turned colours overnight and the wind was blowing them all over the road. The sight of the colourful trees against the bright blue sky was breath-taking. I really savoured my drive.

Autumn really struck me when I left the theatre after our show. The air was crisp and tinged with that quintessential autumnal scent of wood smoke, as people finally give into the the chill in the air. I stood by the door and pulled on my jacket. I looked up into the dark starry sky. There wasn’t any frost on my car but it felt like it was coming. I got into my car and started to drive home. As I turned east I was greeted by a full harvest moon. It was so big and luminous that I wanted to stop and revel in its glory. But of course, I didn’t, even though I really wanted to. Instead as I drove I looked for it and it always reappeared. It led me home.

This is my favourite time of year. It’s such a beautiful time, especially here with the temperate rainforest that surrounds us. The maple trees are spectacular right now. But Fall is about more than just beauty. It is the end of summer but it’s also a beginning. For children, and parents, and teachers, it’s the beginning of a new school year. A time of anticipation and excitement, of all the possibilities that a new beginning has. A beginning that requires new shoes, new clothes, new pencils and notebooks. When I was little I remember how that felt, to put on those new shoes after a summer of being barefoot, carrying new supplies to a new classroom with a new teacher. When I was that “new” teacher I couldn’t sleep the night before the first day. I would go over and over my plans, hoping that everything was ready. And it always was, but that didn’t allow the sleep to come.

Autumn is a funny time of year weather-wise. It’s cold when you wake up but then it warms up, sometimes too much. Here on the coast or on Vancouver Island, mornings are often shrouded in mist or fog. There is chill in the air that requires a sweatshirt, sweater or light jacket. But by noon, the sun appears and you need the sunglasses you couldn’t wear in the morning. And that sweatshirt, sweater or jacket ends up somewhere other than on your body. When I was teaching elementary school, parents would show up regularly on Friday afternoons in September and early October to pick up a week’s worth of sweatshirts and jackets that their children had worn to school but didn’t need for the trip home. Now that I’m home all day, I fall into the same pattern. I pull on a sweater when I come downstairs in the morning but throw it somewhere as the day warms up. At the end of the day I try to remember to find it and take it back upstairs.

Fall also heralds the new crop of apples. There is nothing better than the first bite of a crisp, new apple. Nowadays fall also means pumpkin-flavoured everything. I haven’t bought into that trend but I do love me some pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving.

I know many people who spend the Fall preparing for the coming winter; buying wood, splitting and stacking it, getting in supplies for their horses or cows, harvesting the last of the garden’s bounty and preparing the soil for next year. The shorter days give them a sense of urgency. For me, living here in the city, my preparations are minimal. I waterproof my boots, make sure my umbrellas are handy and I dig out my socks and long pants. We’ll  put the contents of our flowerpots into our green bin and put the patio furniture cushions in the garage. Before the end of October I’ll make an appointment to get the winter tires put on my Bug. Around that time Dale will turn on the furnace, unless I pester him to do it sooner!

But for now I’ll revel in the sights, scents and tastes of Autumn.

We woke to weak sunshine on Saturday morning. We dressed appropriately and headed to the village to have breakfast. While we walked there I looked for Pokemon to capture. I had teased Dale about going Pokemon hunting the night before. He dared me to do it so I did. But being technologically impaired I had forgotten how to take a screen shot. The creatures I had captured the night before weren’t commemorated, but after a quick review of how to take  a screen shot, I was not only able to capture the Pidgey, but to take his picture too!  Dale laughed at me as I tried to negotiate the walk with my phone, my glasses, my cane and my purse. I gave up after capturing just one.

We went to a nearby cafe to have breakfast. We were thankful the heaters were on as we sat on the deck. The meal was okay, but we were disappointed by the tiny metal teapots they brought us. They held little more than two swallows. However our server was happy to keep refilling them, and as they were so small, the teabag didn’t need to be replaced. While we ate we finalized our plan for the day. We would drive around Whistler and then head to Pemberton. I waited while Dale got the car from the underground parking at the hotel. I’m pleased to say I captured several more Pokemon during that time.

We got onto the highway and drove north. We passed several lakes and some of them were the wonderful green-blue that indicated they were glacial water. We marvelled at the size of some of the homes on Green Lake, just north of Whistler. The scenery was spectacular. We drove past the turn-off into the community of Pemberton and continued a little way further north. When we realized there wasn’t much more to see, we turned around and this time we drove into Pemberton. It was as small as we expected. We wondered why the town started there. We thought perhaps it was because of a mine, but some research later told us that it was built to service the Fraser gold rush miners and then people stayed on to farm. It took all of five minutes to check out the downtown area. Soon we were back on the highway heading south.

We stopped at One Mile Lake park just outside of Pemberton. Dale wandered down to lake while I sat at one of the picnic tables, enjoying the sunshine and the view. There was a family enjoying the park. The kids were fishing with the dad off of the dock and the mom was throwing sticks in the water for the dogs. Dale headed to the information board and read it. He shared the information when he came back to the picnic table. There was a boardwalk that lead to a trail that circled the lake but we were content to sit in the sun. We sat quietly for a while and then got back on the road.

We drove through some Whistler neighbourhoods and then up to the Olympic sliding centre. It was closed but we could see some of the luge run from the road. Eventually we headed back to our hotel. Again, I waited while Dale parked the car. We wandered back up to the restaurant/bar near the gondola. We sat at the front again, watching the crowd and the mountain bikers. We had some drinks and some salsa and chips. We didn’t feel up to paying $25 for the nachos. I amused Dale by catching Pokemon. (I also stole one of his olives while he was checking his work messages. I tried to convince him there was only one olive to start with, but the picture below proves me wrong. Rats!)

When we were finished we walked down to another restaurant to enjoy some oysters. They didn’t last long! And there were Pokemon there too!

It was a short walk back to the hotel. I had a nap while Dale watched the Blue Jays game, well, most of the game. I woke up once and he was sleeping. He missed innings 3,4 and 5. It was nice to wile away the late afternoon napping, watching TV, reading and eating gummies. (Some kids on the gondola ride the day before had been eating assorted gummies, so we had gone in search of some for ourselves. We bought several bags and nibbled on them all weekend.) Around 7:00 we headed back to the village for dinner, it was okay. Dale’s burger was good but my deep fried perogies didn’t spend enough time in the fryer. They were only marginally browned and not overly warm inside. The cafe/bar didn’t have tea so we headed off. I went to Starbucks and Dale went to the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. Tea and goodies in hand, we went back to the room. It was the perfect way to end the night.

In the morning we packed up and then went for breakfast. We had crepes at a little boulangerie. My butter, sugar and lemon crepe was divine! Dale’s savoury breakfast crepe, filled with eggs, ham and cheese, was a little dry. It was sunny when we left Whistler. Traffic was light on our side of the road, however, it was bumper to bumper heading north. I guess people were heading up there to take advantage of the Monday holiday. The heavy traffic heading north continued right into the city. The traffic heading west into the city was crazy too; we thought people might be heading to enjoy the last day of the PNE. We stopped at the Brentwood Mall and it was almost empty but that was good for us, we got in and got out. While it it was great to get away, it was great to get home again too. Tomorrow I have a callback for a play I auditioned for, and a rehearsal for a reader’s theatre production I’ve already been cast in. Dale has a golf tournament. And we’re back to our regular lives, but now we’re well rested and refreshed. Actually I’m always that way, but now Dale is too.

Dale planned a Labour Day weekend trip to Whistler for us, to follow up on an overnight trip we took earlier this summer. That night we stayed in a tiny studio room, with a Murphy bed. It was fun but we didn’t see much of Whistler and we felt like students on a cheap weekend. This time we booked a much nicer room and we planned some things to do.

Normally I start packing for an adventure several days before we leave. This time Dale didn’t get the suitcases until the morning of. I overpacked clothes because I didn’t have time to plan several outfits and then put most of them back. We were well on our way before I realized I had forgotten my magnifying make-up mirror, my iPad and an umbrella. As it turned out, none if them were really necessary,  although at the certain age I’m at, hairs tend to grow on my chin overnight and removing them by feel was hard.

We left around 9:00 on Friday morning and went to the Lonsdale Quay for breakfast. There’s a little cafe/kiosk there that serves an all-day breakfast. They make steamed eggs with their fancy-dancy coffee machine and serve them on lightly grilled croissants. Dale loves their salmon benny. We sat and had our breakfasts, lingering over our hot beverages and then we strolled through the shops. We looked at umbrellas but decided we would risk the rain in Whistler, after all we had three or four at home and didn’t really need to add to the collection. We thought that might have been a mistake because once were were back on the road the sky opened and it poured. I mean it rained so hard we almost couldn’t see where we were going and windshield wipers couldn’t keep up. However, the skies cleared the closer we got to Whistler and by the time we checked into our hotel, it was sunny and almost warm.

We walked up to the village from our hotel. I sat on a rock wall up by the gondola while Dale went to get our tickets. We were going up to the peak to have dinner so we needed to pick up both the tickets for the barbecue and the ride up. While Dale was gone I was approached by a host who asked me to do a quick survey. I finished it just as Dale cam back. We weren’t hungry but we decided to sit on one of patios with a beverage. The sun was warm and we were entertained by the crowds and the bike riders coming down off the mountain. I love sitting outside but restaurant areas attract birds. Little birds are okay but pigeons are not. However, I learned that tapping or waving my cane will keep those nasty pests away, so they can’t sneak up in me and peck my eyes out. We dragged out our beverages for as long as we could then we headed back to the hotel. We had to change as the temperature at the top of the mountain was zero degrees Celcius and the light rain up there could turn into snow. That called for shoes and socks, long pants and jackets. By 2:45 we were back at the gondola station, ready to head up.

The gondola ride was amazing, it was quite steep but the views were incredible. The ride to the top of Whister took 25 minutes. When we got the top we were glad we had heeded the information we had received. It was cold and windy. There was no snow on the ground where we were, but you could see snow just up a little higher.

We looked around a little and then headed over to the other building, to take the Peak2Peak gondola ride. It is an 11 minute ride, going 4.4 kilometres from the peak of Whistler to the peak of Blackcomb. We got on quickly, as most of the people there were waiting for the glass bottom gondola cars. We rode through the fog. When it cleared we could see how high we were. It was quite disconcerting. We could see birds flying below us.

The views on Blackcomb were spectacular. We were too late to see all if the alpine flowers but there were still a few here and there. We did see, and hear, the whistling marmots that live up there.

After lokking around we went into the lodge and had some hot chocolate. The servers in the lodge were wearing name tags that also identified where they were from. A young woman from Sweden took our order and another one from Australia made our drinks. Both were friendly and patient. An older woman barged in front of us, entering the line-up from the exit point, and ordered before we could say anything. When she got her coffee, in a mug, she asked for a to-go cup. Then, rather than going over to the service area to get cream, she interrupted the barista who was making our hot chocolates. Both women handled the situation, and the rude woman, very well. We took our hot chocolates over to a table and spooned out the melting marshmallows. They were delicious! After watching a short film about the resort, we walked up to the gondola building and headed back to Whistler. The fog was more intense on our way back. for a while all we could see were the wires and that was a little eerie. But, of course, the fog lifted and then the views came back.

We had had dinner in the lodge at the top of Whistler. It was a southern-style barbecue, complete with beans, ribs and cornbread. I had brownies for dessert, Dale had more ribs. The ride back down the mountain was anticlimactic. We wanted to sit by a firepit and sip some Scotch, but the first bar we stopped at had the former but not the latter. We decided to forego the flames, deciding that good liquor was more important. We had our nightcap and wandered back to our hotel, a little tipsy and a little tired.