Shoes and feathers

Our family party season has begun; we have birthdays coming up regularly from now till September. The second in the series, this afternoon, involved 19 very happy, extremely energetic, third grade kids who only stopped shouting and singing and playing the piano to eat. Blessed (relative) quiet!

Abandoned mask, after the dress-up session.

Some of the shoes.

"Nest" with chocolate eggs for the treasure hunt.

I am tired. And there are more festivities tomorrow. I'll take a break here, until Monday, I think.

Beans are Yucky!

A scene from our Thanksgiving dinner:

Snookums wasn't thankful for the green beans.

Reflection in a Rain Bucket

Rainwater for the garden, unneeded in this cool weather, sits in an old 5-gallon pail.

Above the porch and vines, a grey, cloudy sky.

We've been partying, celebrating a granddaughter's engagement. It turns out that his side of the family is as musical as hers; the afternoon turned into a lively jam session, with three generations of two extended families on guitars, violincello, harmonicas, accordion, piano and banjo, doing Golden Oldies from one end of the 20th century to the other. They even had Laurie and I singing along!

I'm too tired to get up the energy to go to bed. Maybe I'll just put my head down on the desk here ...

Sheer delight!

Piñata party this afternoon: a couple of faces say it all...

Sofia. Birthday girl's kid sister.

Guest. 2nd grade classmate.

And now I've got bugs in containers on my desk, goings-on in the aquarium, and some thoughts on the impossibility of getting things "right". All stuff to blog about, plus a new baby to visit. I'll catch up eventually.

Party girl

I'm just home from the last of the Christmas parties for this year; Day of the Magi. "Dia de los Reyes", we call it, and we celebrate with hot chocolate and the traditional Mexican Rosca.

And, of course, with as many excited kids and talking-at-once adults as we can cram into a small house. We ended up the evening with a surprise presentation by the little ones; a dance by three- and four-year-old Sofia and Sara, under a spotflashlight held more or less steadily by one of the first-grade boys. Piano, a last-minute insipration, by cousins, drum (kid variety) by an uncle. Sofia took no notice of the tempo; she dances to her own drumbeat.

Sofia, dressed for dancing over her butterfly shirt.

I'm still laughing.

(Photo taken with available light, without flash.)

All partied out

Hard to believe; my first granddaughter is married. (She's not old enough. She can't be! Just yesterday she was a little girl! Besides, I'm not old enough, either. I was a little girl not all that long ago, too.)

Her reception was a dinner al fresco yesterday evening, in the garden of my daughter's antique church/wedding photography studio near Chilliwack. Guests: family, old friends (some I hadn't seen for over twenty years), new relatives, and a bouncing crop of youngsters. Dinner: herbed salmon, veggies from the garden, chicken mole and Mexican white rice, salad greens with fresh fruits and spicy dressing, pie and wild blackberries; most prepared by my new grandson-in-law, all delicious. Decor: white tablecloths under a white tent, white-draped chairs, tea-lights in white paper bags, shining glassware, brilliant dahlias from a local gardener. The usual ...

Lamps on a railing.

Gifts on a garden bench.

Last rays of sunlight on an abandoned table.

Then things got a little crazy.

Help! We've been electrocuted!

Damsel in distress (not).

Family tree.

Watching the hijinks.

The evening ended with a big, stuffed piñata for the kids, an outdoor "Photo Studio", with assorted hats and capes, Linda Ronstadt singing traditional Mexican on the IPod, laughter, everyone talking at once, coffee. I filled my car mug before we drove home, and Laurie talked to keep me awake.

I am tired. I feel old, suddenly, maybe even old enough to have a married granddaughter. Just barely, though.

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A good (Canadian) Thanksgiving.

It rained so hard the car was hydroplaning on the way to Chilliwack. And coming home on back roads to avoid the jam of returning holidaymakers, we got lost in the dark and the rain.

No matter: my daughter's house was warm and bright, and full of happy people. That's what counts.


Carving the roast. And taking a photo of it on the cell phone. It will end up on Facebook. The old traditions live happily alongside the new.

The menu: Potato and leeks from the garden in a hearty soup. Roast leg of pork, served with tortillas, chilpotle sauce, Mexican beans and rice. Salad, also homegrown. A green bean and onion casserole, with cheese au gratin. Local wines. Dessert was assorted fruit pies, store-bought, with vanilla ice cream. And coffee, of course.

I didn't miss the turkey and cranberry sauce, at all.
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Family matters.

Family parties are fun, but hard to describe afterwards. Except that everybody talks all at once, and that the food is always our favourite dishes. (I took albóndigas en chile verde, meatballs in green chile sauce; recipe if requested.)

I have a few photos, though, that you may enjoy.

The youngest member of the party: Baby Yellow-foot. Carefully tended by Sophia.


Gift from my granddaughter; 40 stems of sweet pea. Mmmm!


The artist, practicing for her first exhibition, next week in Gastown. (If you're in the area, do come: details at Girls in the City.)


Annika, mournful at being excluded from the goings-on.

You're looking at me! Does that mean I can come in now?

No, it doesn't. She's a great, humongous, tail-and-hind-end-wagging, bouncing, licking, rolling, hairy, hungry (always hungry) mountain of unbridled enthusiasm and she has to visit with us one at a time. Sorry, Annika.


Annika's view of the proceedings.


Icing! Yum!

Next: a walk around the Strathcona streets. Houses, gardens, art.
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Wild night on the town

It's my birthday, and we're partying in Strathcona tonight! Yee-hah!

These photos were taken coming and going from the last party - Grad night.

In a Vancouver alley, half mural, half graffitti.


On the side of a store, at the edge of Strathcona.


Midnight photo, with ambient light. Party in Strathcona, around the corner from my daughter's house.

I'll have more Strathcona pics tonight. Or rather, tomorrow morning.

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Party at Uncle Merl's! (I and the Bird # 76)

Hi! And welcome to our "Beginning of the Season – Victoria Day – It's Not Raining Day" Garden Party and Potluck! Glad you could make it! Come on in, join the fun; there are tons of people here already, birders all!

(Yes, I know Victoria Day was last week, but everybody was at the park or watching the parade then; besides, you were busy, weren't you?) So I'll just show you where you can leave your jacket, … in here … and then we can go out back and I'll show you around, introduce a few of the people. ... Ready? Out this side door, then. We just follow this little trail under the trees for a bit.

Oh, look, here's Island, scoping out a Red Breasted Nuthatch nest; Hi, Island! Beautiful bird! But we'll tiptoe on past and leave you to your photography. See you at supper later!

Out of the trees, and here's the garden. A bit on the wild side, but an excellent birding spot. On this side, there's a tiny creek and a bit of a pond. And there's the Ridger from The Greenbelt, photographing May birds; look at those cute goslings!

Up against the house, here on the patio, are the edibles. Buffet over here … bar over there … at the far corner, the BBQs. Lots of comfortable chairs. And Rob, resting after a good hike. Stop by in a bit, and he'll tell you an exciting tale of a trip in Yellowstone Park. Ospreys, Sandhill cranes, a wolf hunt, and … but I'll let him tell it.

And here's Duncan, discussing the intelligence of ravens, and the origins of the saying, Stone the crows!. Hey, Duncan, if you'd been dive-bombed by crows because you were supposedly invading their territory, you might think that was a good idea. But they are smart, I'll give you that.

At the bottom of the garden, standing by the rhododendrons, that's Hugh, of Rock, Paper, Lizard. He's probably listening to the birds. The other day, he was asking, Who's singing at the park? What bird says, "cow-cow-cow-cowp"? I didn't know. Now I do.

Ok, what else? Over there, down that trail, is the staircase to the beach, 'way below us. I saw Cis heading down a while ago; it's a long haul, but she's quite the walker. Ask her, when she gets back, to show you her photos of a pair of Gray Jays.

And now, the house. Did I tell you about the house? No? I hardly know what to say; I was flabbergasted when the lawyer told me about it. I just inherited it from my uncle, Professor (and mad scientist, really) Merlin J. Featherbottomley. It's a moldering ruin, mostly; he's been living here alone for over 50 years. But we've managed to clean and refinish the lower floor, so if (or I should say, when) it rains, we'll have shelter. It's basically empty; we'd have to bring the outside chairs in.

Come on in, through the patio doors; I'll show you.

Well, here's Amila, of Gallicissa! I wondered where he'd got to. Oh, you're setting up your photos along the wall there! Good idea! What colours! What names! And you've labelled the display: Birds in my local patch. Certainly exotic for us, though.

And the rest of you; now I see what you're doing! You're turning the room into a gallery of bird photos. Oh, marvellous!

Let's see, here are Troy and Martha, with tips on ID'ing Short-billed dowitchers. Very useful. And Liza with a bird report from Albion trip, complete with a bird-watching seal. And this is Pam, of Tortoise Trail, with a Yellow-eyed Junco on Mt. Lemmon. Great photos; and such a nice idea, putting them up like that!

We'll be back to look at the rest of the photos in a minute or two, but first, let me show you… down this hall, this is Uncle Merl's old laboratory. We've left his workbenches in place; they were pretty solid still. Oh, hi, Zen! Already hard at work? What are you doing?

Oh, I get it. Testing the effect of a hammer hitting a tree at 13mph. Better a hammer head than a bird head, anyhow. Unless that bird is a woodpecker, eh?

Uncle Merl was studying seagulls here; he was certain that they were extremely intelligent, and he spent a lifetime trying to teach them to nest in "proper" boxes so that he could observe their care of the chicks. Not much luck, I'm afraid. I don't think they were interested.

One of Uncle Merl's photos

That reminds me; Seabrooke had photos of Barn Swallows building their nest; I wonder if she brought them along? What, Zen? Around the corner in the study? Oh, thanks! And here she is; look! Seabrooke's photo series, A mouthful of mud!

And this is Adrian from the Bird Ecology Study Group putting up photos of hard-working Black-naped Monarch parents incubating, feeding and … potty training?

I see, you guys are setting up a bird-nest exhibition! Oh, this is great!

Here's Nina, with a partly-sad, partly-hopeful story in two parts: Not a pretty picture and 1...2...3 Chickadee...dee...dee.

And over here by the window, this is Max. Hi, Max! Still not raining! We might just get used to it. What do you have here under Spring Emergences? A humming-bird nest? And flocking starling nestlings! (You know, I think they're a beautiful bird! Beautiful the way purple loosestrife is beautiful. Or Japanese knotweed.)

Look, Snail brings us an edifice that dwarfs all other bird structures. And, yes, I believe you, Snail, but … but … are you sure? Your Orange-footed renovators really do that? Wow!

Uncle Merl would have liked this one: Burrowing Owls - Will They Survive In North America?. Larry tells of buried nest boxes. For birds that live in burrows, of course.

We seem to be missing one of our guests; let's leave these people to their work, and see if we can find him.

Back to the hallway again; there's the foyer where you came in, the walk-in closet, the side door, the washrooms, the kitchen. That's about it. Oh, the stairs? We haven't refinished up there, yet; it's just a bunch of empty rooms. Come to think of it, though, I saw PetMonologues going upstairs with a flock of birds and a camera; he said something about doing a video for Sex and the Single Bird. "Birds do it", he said.

Oh, and I'd totally forgotten Greg. He's probably still in here, in the sound-proofed room where Uncle Merl analyzed seagull mating calls. Let's see ... Still working, Greg? Good for you, but it's party time! Come on out and get a drink before supper!

Greg's reporting on enigmatic sex ratios in a nearly extinct bird, the Magenta Petrels. I hope they can bring them back from the brink.

Anyhow, I'm looking for N8, of The Drinking Bird; he has a report on a pelagic outing, Slippery when wet. Poor guy, he gets so terribly seasick. And he got drenched, as well. All in a good day's birding, though! Oh, there he is, down on the landing, looking at the water. Come on, we'll get you a drink on the way … what'll you have? … and he can tell you about the Storm-petrels.

The landing, looking out to sea

And I've got to run; I hear another car in the driveway. It's probably Charlie, just in from his South Africa trip. He's bringing photos from the Zaagkiuldrift gravel road, the road to Kgomo-kgomo. I bet I pronounced that wrong.

So I'll leave you to your own devices now. Make yourself at home!

Hey, I almost forgot; this travelling house party and potluck will be over at Great Auk - or Greatest Auk? in two weeks, the 12^th of June. If you have some goodies to bring, give Carrie a shout at labenc AT gmail DOT com by the 10^th.
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Giant snail discovered in New Westminster

Never-before-seen yellow-lipped snail:


Unfortunately, this unique specimen was quickly destroyed by a party of youngsters.


Back to more mundane beasties tomorrow.
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Partying Princesses Pummel a Piñata

Fifth birthday party:


With a home-made piñata, made by the kindergarten class (they had a bit of help). It is supposed to represent the sun. "Not a star," the birthday girl said; " a star is pointy." So the ragged crepe paper becomes leaping flames. The face was a joint effort; each child took a one-minute turn at every individual feature, switching to the next when a timer went off. Great fun and an alarmed expression, very appropriate.

Line-up of pastel princesses


Dále, Chelsea!


Good hit!


Now that looks like a ball of flames!

And the perfect ending.

And Grandma Weeta is tired, and going to bed.

The Whole Blooming Neighbourhood

Strathcona! My favourite Vancouver neighbourhood. Just on the edge of Chinatown, a community of older Chinese families turned artist's colony. Heritage houses and enthusiastic gardeners; the sun belt.

I wrote about it on my old blog, after I first stayed and fell in love with the place. You can read more of the background and see a bit of the local colour here and here and here and here and here. (In reverse chronological order. Do click on those ridiculously tiny thumbnails.) Or click on the Strathcona label, on this blog.

We arrived at my daughter's house around 5:00 last Saturday. Still early, and the sun was bright. I had time for a slow look around the garden and a walk down the block to the park.

Stepping out the front door, this is what I saw:
At the bottom of the steps, in a handkerchief garden, the tulip tree was in flower. For the rest, purple hyacinth, yellow and orange tulips and I think that is a white narcissus. Snuggled into a corner, a clump of forget-me-nots.



And euphorbia. I never did like euphorbia; it has an imperialistic bent, and needs careful and enthusiastic regulating. But it is such a beautiful spring green!

Some tiny pink blooms down among the tangled new growth. I have no idea what they are.


Down the block, an artist's studio in an old "Paneficio" (Bakery). Ivy, tulips, assorted greenery. The tree on the right is a fig. Later in the summer, it drapes fruit-laden branches over all the windows.

The horizon (and studio) are badly tilted; I think I was a little tipsy already with all the beauty around me.
On the way back, I took a side-trip down the alley, following a robin. He posed for me briefly before he took to the trees.

Almost home again. "Vintage" houses across the street, sunken into the ground with the years. (Or the street widened and built up. Long ago, these were narrow dirt alleys up and down steep hills.)

And folks were arriving. I could smell coffee and hear the laughter. I joined the party:

Party! Granddaughters! Food!

No post yesterday: I went to a party at my daughter's house, instead.

And there are a couple or three photos that beg to be shared.

Goodies, before the snackers started in: that's goat cheese, in front. Yum!
My oldest granddaughter, busy with the youngest ditto, and Annika, the hairiest family member, temporarily banished to the front porch.

And the youngest granddaughter, one year old next week, with an aunt. The scarring on her hands is from the first stage of reconstructive surgery for syndactilia (joined fingers; it runs in the family, and is usually just an extra flap of skin, but Sofia got the full dose.)
Next post; the party was held in the heritage house in Strathcona. Spring is in full sway, and I have the photos to show it.