For The Love Of Earrings

For The Love Of Earrings

Earrings have been around for centuries, worn by both men and women, and piercing the oldest known form of body modification. Sailors wore earrings as a symbol that they have sailed around the world, or have crossed the equator or have rounded Cape Horn.

I have a small collection of earrings that I have accumulated over the years. I love wearing them. Some are colourful, some are pearls, some have glitz and some are plain; each pair has a purpose or an occasion. Some give me strength, some courage, some a colour to match my scarf, some a boost to my spirit and others are just pretty.  

For my first meeting with Michael, we had arranged to meet at Granville Island, were Sequitur was berthed at the time. I took the ferry from Vancouver Island and arrived a bit early, but with enough time to go shopping at Granville Market. At Maiwa I found some interesting earrings, small mirrors cut into the shapes of leaves and petals; a great pair to give me courage for this meeting. Not wanting to set myself up for another disappointment, I thought that at the very least I would return home with a nice pair of dangling earrings.

I was familiar with the process of searching for a boat to crew on. Two sips into the meeting coffee I was often into planning my exit. I convinced myself that these new earrings could become a conversation piece or, if Michael was self centred, he would have an opportunity to look at himself in my earrings as we talked. This in turn would give me the sensation that he was looking at me. I figured there was no downside.

As it turned out, the meeting was a success,. We had tons to talk about and he never even noticed my earrings. It wasn't long before he asked me the question: "Do you want to sail around Cape Horn with me?" it didn't take long to say: "I do".

Ahh, the power in earrings….

Villeria, Pretoria

In February 1952 we arrived as immigrants in the Union of South Africa and settled in Villeria on the outskirts of Pretoria. Ours was the third-last house in Pretoria and next to it was open veld; the road paving stopped a block before our house. Shortly after our arrival my siblings entered the school system and my parents returned to work. At the age of four, I was too young for either of these scenarios, so I was placed in the care of a nanny.

My nannie belonged to Matabele tribe, whose village was just outside Villeria, and their tribal territory stretched northward as far as Southern Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe. It didn't take long for me to figure out that the nannie did not speak Dutch, nor I Matabele. I was totally intrigued by her looks, her decorations and all I could do was stare, to which she responded with a smile.

The women of her village decorate their huts with homemade paints in bold geometric patterns and in primary colours. These designs and colours are carried through into their beadwork. With their tiny beads, they create bracelets, necklaces, hairbands, earrings and bracelets on top of bracelets. The brass rings around their legs were permanent as were the bead covered straw bands.

Neither my mother nor my sisters had pierced earlobes and I was captivated by the beauty of my nannie's earrings. I asked her if she could pierce my earlobes as well, to which she agreed. She hauled out some grass and formed temporary earrings, then she grabbed a cork and the huge safety pin from the closure to her coat. The cork was placed behind my lobe and she start pushing on the blunt safety pin. I screamed, she stopped and my ear piercing session came to an end.

It took another thirty-five years before I found enough courage to walk into the ear piercing shop in North Vancouver's Lynn Valley Mall. The sterile process was quick and painless. I left with a pair of shinny gold loops and the start of my earring collection.

The Tea of Life

The No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency's owner, the engaging Precious Ramotswe, could not solve any of her cases without sitting down with a pot of Bush Tea. The delightful series by Alexander McCall Smith highlights the simplicity of life in Gaborone, Botswana and the common use of Rooibos tea.

The Dutch settlers, who arrived in 1652, relied on the passing trade ships for supplies. With black tea, an expensive commodity, the settlers soon looked for alternatives. Rooibos means Red Bush, its scientific name is Aspalathus linear and is a broom-like member of the legume family of plants growing in South Africa. Once picked, the leaves are oxidized, a procedure which gives the distinctive reddish-brown colour to rooibos. Rooibos is becoming more popular in Western countries, due to its high level of antioxidants, its lack of caffein and its low level of tannin. There an ongoing dispute about the usage of the name Rooibos. The plant is indigenous only to a small region of the Western Cape province. 

Milk? Sugar? This tea is versatile, but I prefer it natural, just like Mma Ramotswe.  Another case solved! 

Engine 374

On 23 May 1887, Canadian Pacific Railway Engine 374 arrived in Vancouver pulling a train carrying 150 passengers. The new nation of Canada was now linked from the Atlantic to the Pacific and this opened the door to new arrivals and immigrants. The CPR rail yard and roundhouse were located in False Creek, an industrial area with saw mils, lumber yards and barges. The railway tracks were removed for the creation of the Expo 86 site, who's theme was Transportation and Communication. Engine 374 was refurbished. As a fundraiser "Heritage" bricks were sold for $19.86 each, the amount to coincide with the year of Expo, and $400,000 was raised. Each brick had the purchaser's name on it and these bricks now form the paved floor for the Pavilion on Drake Street, Vancouver. 

My daughters, both 4th generation Vancouverits, have their names embedded in time with the train that brought it all together.

Mah Jong

The spelling of Mah Jong seems to vary, just like the rules of the game. With the Winds, Dragons, Bamboos, Dots and Cracks, the clicking of tiles was a familiar sound in old Chinatown. The gambling went on throughout the night with high stakes; fortunes were made and lost. The game is still very popular and there are two versions of it - the traditional Chinese way and the North American way.

The North American style became popular with the Jewish ladies of New York and some changes to the traditional rules were made. They produced a game card with annual change of sequence in tiles. To Mah Jong, one has to follow the current sequences exactly. Also, one must purchase a new card every year, which is a good business for the ladies of New York. The gambling part remained the same. The early Chinese immigrants brought their sets with them, and these sets ranged from plain bamboo to very ornate.

I played the North American version for years with a group of friends, four to a table. We drank gallons of Rooibos tea and solved domestic problems. We supported one another through the tough times and laughed through the good times. With my life " in transit" it is now difficult to organize a Mah Jong game, but maybe one day …

Chasing Dragons- The Ladies in Pink

As we were waiting for our Aquabus pickup I was watching a dragon Boat filled with ladies of all ages, maneuvering their boat in the strong current.  It reminded me of Abreast in a boat, a special team of Breast Cancer survivors. 

In 1996 Dr Don Mc Kenzie of University of British Columbia began a study to dispel a myth associated with breast cancer survivors and exercise. Until then caution was taken by avoiding any strenuous physical upper arm exercise in order to avoid a condition called lymphedema. Dr. Don saw dragon boating as the ideal sport to introduce to survivors. This exercise involves the strenuous and repetitive motion of the trunk and arm muscles. It is a safe sport as it is non weight-bearing. He recognized that this could bring women together in their shared experience. As a result of this research, breast cancer survivor dragon boat teams have developed globally.

We will be away during the Festival but I will be cheering for my favourite team - all the survivors and the ladies in pink.

My Father the Artist

My father carried the family's given name Jan Jacobus, that can be traced back into the 1700's. For centuries they had been housepainters, glass repairman and stained glass painters. My father was one of a twelve children, most of whom helped in the family business of house painting. His apprenticeship started at the age of twelve and he joined his father and older brothers in that trade. Besides the cleaning of brushes, the brothers taught him to roll his own cigarettes, a habit that remained with him till the end.

My father belonged to an artist group in Haarlem, which was part of the Dutch Federation of Artists Sculptors and Engravers. For acceptance into the guild, the artist's work has to be juried by nine art professors. This self portrait received all nine votes, he was granted professional artist status and was accepted into the guild. A portrait is a difficult object to paint and a self portrait the most difficult, as the artist has to look into a mirror and paint what he sees. Jan Jacobus had been accurate in what he had seen.

In the later part of his life, he took private lessons from the Rijksmuseum's restorer. He was taught how the Dutch Masters mixed their paints and he learned their methods of application. His goal was to become an art forger, which thankfully was short lived, as the restorer was caught and sentenced to jail as an art forger himself. My father's unfiltered smoking caught up to him and he passed away at the age of sixty-six at home.

I am often asked about the family name. Could it have been Van Rijn? …probably not.

The Rhythm of the City

The rhythm of Dragon Boats has come alive on the waters of False Creek. It is the 25th anniversary for the Rio Tinto Alcan Dragon Boat Festival. This year's event will be held the 21st to the 23rd of June and it is one of Vancouver''s prestiges events. The races take place in False Creek and finish at Science World.

The races were first introduced during Expo 86. A couple of years later interest was rekindled and the popularity of the races increased rapidly. Now the Vancouver festival is the largest outside of Asia and draws a huge international following.

The priest and members of the Evergreen Taoist Church are invited to conduct the ancient ritual to begin the festival. The climax ceremony is the dotting of the eyes. This awakens the dragons that sleep in the mountains and travel to the water for the races. Guest dignitaries assist by dipping brushes in pots of red cinnabar paint and dabbing the eyes on the boats' dragon heads.

Happy Birthday Lenin and Gelin

My daughter, Genevieve has returned from Russian and the Netherlands. She was disappointed to find that the Lenin Mausoleum in Moscow's Red Square was closed. The only reason for its closure that I can come up with, is that they are changing his suit and linens for his birthday display. I am not a follower of Lenin, but the late dictator, Vladimir and my late husband, Peter shared the same birthday. On occasion I pointed-out other similarities to him. 

While my homemade chocolate birthday cakes have always been a winner, Lenin takes the cake. 

Happy Birthday Vladimir and Peter.

Rhododendrons

When we moved to Vancouver we settled in Deep Cove, in the foothills of Mount Seymour. Our house was new, with no landscaping on its steep slopes. We planted Azaleas and Rhododendrons. After twenty years, the Rhododendrons had grown tall and spread broadly, appearing as one large bush. When they were in bloom, the backyard became a cascade of blossoms.

When I sold the house I could not take the Rhododendrons with me, but since I had painted them in oil the year before, I simply packed my painting and took the essence of the Rhododendrons with me.

Oh Canada Post

At the beginning of the month I had posted my only two pieces of mail for this year, so far. The cards were mailed one to Amy and Bram and one for Annelies. Both cards were returned with the notes: "No Mailbox". In the next few days, after Amy and Bram had installed a mailbox on their front gate right next to the side walk, I resubmitted the two cards. Amy emailed this photo of Annelies enjoying opening her hand drawn card. The following day the other card was returned to my address, with a sticker: "Unclaimed Mail" on it. This has apparently become a competition between me and postal employee and the card will be resubmitted again for the third time. 

While we were sailing in Mexico a few years ago, we surrendered our Income Tax Returns to the not-so-reliable Mexican mail system. We took photos of the postal staff accepting our mail and our mail actually arrived at Revenue Canada.

Further south, after sailing into Chile, we found a very impressive post office in the downtown core of Iquique. The massive building with it's high ceiling and tall pillars gave the feeling of security and strength. I mailed Annelies a small parcel, which never arrived in Canada.

One wonders about our Postal system and which direction they are heading. South perhaps?

Now Serving Two Queens

This afternoon I became a Dutch citizen for the second time, with my vow to Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands. I feel honoured to serve two Queens simultaneously.

I have become a born-again-Dutch-citizen through a nine month process. During this time I was cheered on by Michael, who was there to hold my hand. With of my labour coach Amy and her assistant Genevieve we made it through this seemingly endless task. Many scans were ordered, some repeated a second and third time, just to make sure. The end result is well worth it - a beautiful new Dutch Citizenship, meaning a European passport and endless joys barging through the canals of Europe.

Tempus Fugit - Time Flees

The disappearance of clocks has become more apparent to me since I no longer wear a wrist watch. I have owned many good watches through the years, but stopped wearing them when I went sailing. In the past, time has always been on display at bus stations, train stations and airports; even banks and department store had them in sight. We now rely on our cellphones and computers and my seldom used, dated cellphone is normally at the bottom of my purse. 

The disappearance of clocks became even more apparent when I was flying back from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to Vancouver. We were anchored close to Buserias and we left in plenty of time to catch our airport bus. After an uneventful fifteen kilometre bus ride, we arrived a hour and a half before flight time. The passenger agent was hurrying me along and I started searching for a nearby clock. Michael was wearing a watch, and he confirmed that we had plenty of time to take in a cold beer. Arriving at the gate, I found it deserted and soon discovered that I had missed my flight. Confused and embarrassed, I met up with Michael and we returned to the boat.

It was only by searching on the Internet that we discovered there is an hour time change and the zone line runs next to the runway of Puerto Vallarta airport. We repeated the journey the next day, arrived in plenty of time at the no-clock-airport and caught the flight to Vancouver. Had we anchored in downtown Puerto Vallarta, I would have caught the previous days flight.

Mexico, timeless….

The Street Photographers

Leaving their mark in old photo albums, drawers, frames and boxes, are the photos taken by the street photographers. There was a time when photo studios and photographers seemed to be everywhere, but the most apparent were the street photographers on downtown Granville. It was the core of the business district and the main shopping area, with the Hudson Bay Company, Birks Jewellers, butchers, shoe shops and fabric shops. Dressing for a shopping trip meant showing-off one's best attire, which included high heels, nylons with straight seems, leather purse, leather gloves, brooch, fur cape and a hat to compliment the outfit. The same style was also worn simply to meet someone or to be seen under the Birks clock on Granville Street. Our shopping habits have certainly changed and the street photographers have faded into the past like old sepia photos. 

Celebrating the Re-opening of the Rijksmuseum

After a ten year of reconstruction, renovation and restoration, the Rijksmuseum has finally reopened this April. First opened in 1885, it houses a huge collection of the Dutch Masters including work by Rembrandt van Rijn. Rembrandt's world famous painting "Night Watch", painted in 1642, hangs in the centre of the building. In this colossal painting Rembrandt used chiaroscuro, the effective use of light and shadow and by arrangement and positioning the characters, created an effect of motion.

The painting was removed from the museum in September 1939, at the outbreak of World War ll. The canvas was detached from its frame, rolled around a cylinder and was stored in a castle north of Amsterdam. At the end of the war the canvas was remounted, restored and returned to its original place. During this renovation of the museum, the Night Watch was temporary moved to a another location for viewing while the refurbishing took place. Since the reopening, the Night Watch is back in its place in the Nachtwachtzaal, the hall of the Night Watch and it is high on our list of things to see this summer.

The Aquabus

On our way to dinner at the False Creek Yacht Club, we were waiting for the Aquabus to arrive to take us down False Creek. We took a moment to enjoy the spectacular waterfront scenery with the sun setting and the light softening. With us on the landing was a girl waiting to be picked-up by her Dragonboat, so she could complete the team of 20. We left in different directions.

It had been a while since we had been in a boat and we thoroughly enjoyed the ride as we passed kayaks, canoes, paddle boards, dinghies, sailboat and motorboats. Caught in the moment with the movement and excitement of the water, we were flooded with longing to be back aboard Zonder Zorg. Dinner was delicious and the view was spectacular, but we sure miss boating.

Housewarming Gifts

Amy, Bram and Annelies moved into their new home and we were invited to a house warming dinner .

Along with the 16th century tradition of bread and salt we added, a new tablecloth, wine, wine glasses, Dutch tulips and a lantern to our basket.

Fresh home baked baguette - So that you never go hungry.

Chilean wine - So that your life is always sweet.

Mediterranean sea salt - So that there is always spice in your life.

A lantern - So you always have light.

British Columbia -The World's Best Kept Secret

Travelling abroad I become an unofficial ambassador for Travel British Columbia. People often ask were I am from, and most likely it's because they can't place my accent. I am fluent in accents, speaking in a unique blend of Dutch, Afrikaans and English. Then I tell them the secret - I live in Vancouver British Columbia, one of the most wonderful places on Earth. 

Here, when one speaks of Beavers and Otters, they are most likely referring to the floatplanes.The unspoiled ruggedness of the coastline with its soaring mountains, deep inlets, glaciers and remote lakes, is best seen from the air. The Strait of Georgia, which separates Vancouver Island from the mainland, is dotted with small sparsely inhabited islands. For many of these, the floatplane is the only mode of transportation.

In the early days along this coast, bush pilots with their Otters dominated exploration and transportation; very few roads existed, and airports were rare. The aircraft's pontoon made it possible to land at sea or on remote lakes, and this opened-up the vast and remote region. Most of the floatplanes around today were made by de Havelland Canada and the most commonly used are the Otter, the twin Otter and the Beaver.

Grant McConachie was a pioneer bush pilot and sold his Yukon Southern Transport to Canadian Pacific Airlines in 1941, and the newly created airline appointed him as their General Manager. The main access to Vancouver International Airport was named Grant McConachie Way in his honour.

The Mailbox

I love the look of Canada's bright, cheerful mail boxes and I wonder how long it will be before they become obsolete in this rapidly changing world. I now seldom use the mail service and no longer have a supply of stamps on hand. I send very few Christmas Cards. Gone are the days when we all knew our mailman or woman. 

In the hills of Deep Cove, were we lived, we had a very robust mail woman who ran from house to house delivering mail, taking shortcuts throughout the gardens for faster delivery. On one of her fast delivery days, she came leaping through the shrubbery and landed right next to Amy, who was playing on the driveway. I don't know who screamed the loudest but it got me there in an instant, to find an apologizing mail woman with my mail.

We now live in the flat surfaces of False Creek, which makes delivery by postal employees somewhat easier. After returning from one of our sailing adventures, we found a large sticker on our mailbox. "Your Mailbox is Full" it screamed, and it was dated six weeks prior, notifying most potential burglars of our absence. Since then we have gone green and we are mostly paperless, with any "serious mail" sent to our new box at the Post Office. On occasion we still check our mailbox, and thankfully find it empty; we have been successful.

This morning I received some returned mail and it was marked "No Postbox". The cards had been sent to my daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter at their new address in Vancouver. It is a new house in an old established neighbourhood in transition. They had just moved into their new home, and being three stories on a standard lot; it is hard to miss.They weren't aware that the the house had no mailbox and other mail was likely returned as well. If there had been no house on the lot, but had a mailbox on a post, would the mail have been delivered?  Only Canada postal employees know the answer.

The Birds, a Sign of Spring

Far from Alfred Hitchcock's movie "The Birds" but within walking distance of where we live in False Creek, is the Olympic Plaza's own version of "The Birds". Myfanwy MacLeod's sparrows overlook the bustling plaza, which was the hub of the Athlete's Village during the 2010 Winter Olympics. 

The giant 4.5-metre birds keep an eye out for crumbs from Terra Food bakery, as they sit are across from each other on the plaza, which has now become the heart of "The Village", a favourite spot for cyclist, walkers, strollers, joggers, coffee lovers and bird watchers.

Barking Babies and the People Who Love Them.

Barking Babies Fashion has accessories for dogs and a shop for the people who love them. The colourful display of canine treats is enough to make any dog drool. From icing dipped dog biscuits, petit fours, truffles, cupcakes to special order cakes, there are items to highlight any dog's birthday party. There are dog collars for every occasion and to match any colour or style of the owner. Boutique clothing for the beloved canine includes a tie collection, tuxedoes and a range of casual wear. You'll find no shortage of furniture, leashes and just-the-right toy for pooch. There are tutus, tiaras, shoes and dancing lessons for the girl puppies. Somewhere on the street, I must have crossed over into the double-income-no-kids zone and was totally oblivious to it.

Margaret Thatcher and the Colour of Milk

I was raised in the Union of South Africa and was educated in the British School System. Part of this necessitated our being given a daily one-third pint of milk. This school milk program was started towards the end of World War II and it continued until 1971, when Margaret Thatcher made headlines by cutting it from all Primary Schools for children over the age of seven. She thought that the funds could be of better used elsewhere. This lead to the moniker "Margaret Thatcher, milk snatcher".

I never liked milk, especially the daily dose of pasteurized school milk. During our milk break, small bottles would appear with a layer of cream on top. In the summer, under the African sun, they were delivered hot and in the winter freezing cold. After a few short mandatory sips, the remains were quickly placed back in the crate. Once a year we would get a treat - real ice cream. We would try to convince our teacher that ice cream is so much better for our growth, our bones and our learning.

A belated thanks to Margaret Thatcher, from me, all the other non milk-lovers and especially my lactose-intolerant classmates.

" The problem with socialism is that eventually you run out of other people's money "

Margaret Thatcher

The Colour Pink

Cherry blossoms have arrived in Vancouver and the streets are lined with blossoms, some have already transformed into a pink carpet. They vary in shades, from light pink to a dark and with sunlight playing through the branches, many other tones appear.  It takes but a good downpour for them to get soaked, drop to the ground and disappear. If you have missed them this year, they will be back next years with their latest collection of shades in pink.
This photo was taken 30 years ago in Narita Japan with my youngest daughter Genevieve. This was our last stop, on an around the world visit with family and friends, before returning to work. Genevieve is presently touring Russia with a stopover in the Netherlands. Did I mention we love to travel?

Ironclad Art

I haven't thought much about manhole covers till travelling in Mexico and South America. In Guaymas Mexico, while walking along the Esplanade, I suddenly came to a halt, I had somehow stepped into an uncovered terracotta drainpipe and was somewhat shorter in one leg. We carefully pulled my leg out of the half-metre-deep hole to inspect the damage and I was relieved to find only scrapes and bruises and no broken bones. In Buserias Mexico, Michael damaged his foot on a piece of protruding rebar from a paved side walk. We quickly learned to walk more carefully, wore better shoes and discovered a variety  of holes, crevasses, manhole covers and missing ones. 

In our neighbourhood of False Creek, I spotted this eye-catching manhole cover and with further search found the artists, a mother/ daughter team of Susan A Point and Kelly Cannell. Both are Vancouver based Coast Salish artist and their winning design as the new look for the storm sewer covers. Point is a recognized master carver and has completed numerous major commissions including work for the Vancouver International Airport, the UBC Museum of Anthropology and the Smithsonian.  Cannell has incorporated painting and wood carving with traditional Coast Salish elements in her work. There are approximately 25,000 manhole covers in the City of Vancouver.

CPAir - The Colour of Orange

In 1974 I was hired by CPAir as a Passenger Agent for Toronto International Airport and was sent to Vancouver on course. It was my first flight on a Boeing 747 and my first visit to Vancouver, with every free moment spent exploring Vancouver and Victoria. After completion of the course, along with a new navy blue uniform and polka dot blouse, I returned to Toronto. At terminal 1, the old round airport terminal, I found myself submerged in people, bags and a whole new vocabulary along with a 06:00 shift. After a few days I was still struggling with the early starting time and signs of sleep deprivation became evident. Into the third day, I became part of a group of new agents who were having training in Baggage Services. The instructor was a blur and when he turned the lights out for a slide show, I finally fell asleep and then fell of my chair. The lights came on, a strong arm pulled me up and I looked into the smiling face of the instructor, Peter Gelin, my future husband.

A few years later we decided to transfer to Vancouver. We were granted a double container for our furniture, paintings, motorbike and belongings. With nearly two ton in weight, we made the move by Boeing 747 and its colour was Orange. Orange is Beautiful.

Double Dutch

I was born in the Netherlands in a small Noord Holland village in the dunes along the North Sea. Shortly after World War II we emigrated to the Union of South Africa, where we lived for twelve years, remaining as Dutch citizens, and later returning to the Netherlands. I emigrated to Canada in 1965 with my Dutch passport in hand to start a new life. Fifteen years later I was expecting my first daughter, Amy and I wanted to add her onto my Dutch passport. Since her father was Canadian, I was unable to do this, so I decide to become a Canadian myself. We still had to get Amy a Canadian passport and I had the application ready for the delivering Doctor to sign. Upon leaving the hospital we had a passport photo taken, a small smile was allowed, and the documents were sent away. Two weeks later Amy was on her first trip to Holland with her Canadian passport. 

Since then the Dutch have become a bit more lenient. If Amy could prove that I had a Dutch passport when she was born, she could apply for dual citizenship. I supplied the documents, Amy did the work and she eventually received her dual citizenship. Amy and her husband, Bram, who is a Dutch citizen, were expecting their first daughter, Annelies and Amy began the passport application process while she was pregnant. Shortly after her birth, Annelies became the proud owner of two passports; Canadian and Dutch.

I now have a daughter and granddaughter with Dutch citizenship, but the Netherlands would not allow me to regain my Dutch citizenship. This is a bit bizarre, as I can trace my family trees back to the mid 1700's with roots in Rotterdam, Amsterdam and Edam. That is three Dams, including a Dutch cheese, how much more Dam Dutch can one get?

Recently, the Netherlands announced that for a limited time only, they will allow those who have surrendered their Dutch citizenship to re-apply. I had to dig up documents almost as far back as the reign of William of Orange, and with Amy's help, I send in the application nine months ago. So the question is will I swear my allegiances to Queen Beatrix or to King Willem-Alexander? Only time will tell.

Colours to Dye For

Located near the Granville Island Market, across from the square with it's daily performers, is Maiwa's wool and dye shop. This unique shop is filled to the brim with rich colours in the forms of wool, cotton, linen and yarn. Hand printed and hand dyed fabrics are sold by the meter, smaller remands are also available and are ideal for quilting. My find-of-the-day was some swatches of linen, neatly tied in a roll, naturally dyed & block printed, 20 pieces in all. I have already converted the linen into a handsome tablecloth for two, reminiscent of an old world market and the colours of spice.

Fair Winds Sequitur

Our sailboat Sequitur has been sold and will continue her circumnavigation without us. We treasure the memories as she sails home with her new Australian owner.

Nautical Miles Logged - 20,044

Countries Visited - 14

Days at Sea - 253

Ports and Anchorages - 247

Tsunamis- 2

Strongest Williwaw Seen - 95 knots 

Hurricanes at Sea - 1

Force 11 Storms - 3

Force 10 Winds - too many to count 

Loaves of Bread Baked - 120

Bagels Baked - 40 dozen

Biscotti Baked - 30 dozen 

Bottles of Wine Consumed - 480

Crystal Stemware Breakage - 1 hollow-stem Champagne

Tableware Breakage - 3 dinner plates, 1 candle holder

Gourmet Meals Enjoyed - many hundreds

Superb Adventures - countless

A Man Of Vision

Gerald Walsh is a well spoken six foot tall gentleman, with a full head of hair and a great sense of humour. Now that he has celebrated his 99th birthday, the countdown toward his three digit birthday has begun. Born in Moncton, New Brunswick, he holds a Bachelors Degree in Science and a Postgraduate Degree in Architectural Landscaping. He and Ruth, his wife of many years, kept a lush vegetable garden, and when he was asked whether it was organic he replied, "Yes, I always grew organic, I never could afford the fertilizer". There are many stories about Gerald, but the one I am sharing is my most favourite. 

Ruth at age 93 and three years younger than him, rapidly declined into dementia and the continual caregiving took a toll on his health. He was hospitalized after having had a mild heart attack and Ruth was placed in a nearby care home. There had never been a need for doctors nor hospital visits in the past and because of that, the doctors gave him a thorough check over. In the process they examined his eyes, one of which had been blind since birth. He had spent his life with only one functioning eye that served him well; he was a prolific reader and needed no corrective glasses. Not knowing the history of the eye, the doctor suggested they remove the cataract. Now after 96 years of monocular vision, he finally has the use of both eyes. He still reads prolifically, and still without glasses.

Celebrations and Felicitations

This painting has accompanied me through many household moves and is always the first to be placed on the wall. It was a gift from my parents and was painted by my father, who was practising toward being an art forger. The original was painted by Jan Steen, who used his family, including the dog as models in his paintings. Most of his paintings displayed a sense of chaos and disarray, which led to a Dutch proverb, referring to a mess as "the household of Jan Steen".  

This painting depicts a family celebration and we have much to celebrate today. Gerald Walsh, Michael's father, is celebrating his 99th birthday. With hoots and hollers we are cheering him on to the  big 100th next year. We will be there.

Sequitur, our Hunter49, has been sold to an Australian, and he takes possession today. She is back in the water and will be continuing her voyage around the world, first destination Australia. She will remain in our hearts forever. Fair Winds, Sequitur.

My daughter Amy, son-in-law Bram and granddaughter Annelies, are taking possession of their new home tomorrow.  A beautiful new double story, free standing home in Vancouver in a great neighbourhood for Annelies to grow up. 

Cheers, I'll drink to that!