The Window Sill

Walking through the streets of Amsterdam, or barging through a small village in rural Friesland, we come across small window displays. With the drapes drawn back, the displays are a personal reflection of their owners and their willingness to share. The frequently cleaned windows host creative displays of flowers, plants, vases, candles, lamps, antiques, knick-knacks and toys. With the sidewalks so close to the windows, one cannot help but stop and look. Once we have paused, our eyes often move up to the invitation to look into their living room and into their lives. The nothing-to-hide openness, the simplicity, the cleanliness and the orderliness of life is inviting. 

In our travels in France we notice the heavy shutters on windows. They are flung open in the morning, but there are no window displays, nor is it easy to look inside. In the early evening the shutters are closed and the home is cut-off from the outside world. There is no sign of life. 

Through the sixteenth century, religious persecutions in Portugal, Spain and France caused many of the persecuted to move to the Netherlands, which welcomed the educated, the artisans, the artists and the free thinkers into their population. They soon assimilated and formed the open-minded, colourful and diverse nation that is the Netherlands. 

It is amazing what is seen on a window sill.

Canada Place

Canadian Pacific Railway build the very large two story Pier B-C in 1927, with its main purpose being trading with the Orient. Tea, silks, mail and other wares were moved across the Pacific Ocean to Vancouver, and then by rail to Montreal, then back aboard ships to England. 

The terminal was built in a Spanish style and had a First class passenger lounge. Pier A was to the west of it and was a single deck general freight wharf. Pier D to the east was for the Canadian Pacific Railway's coastal vessels, and it was where the Seabus terminal is today.

Canada Place was constructed in 1986 as the Canadian Pavilion for the World Expo of Transportation that year. An expansion took place in 2001 to accommodate additional berthing for cruise ships. The Canada Place project was built on the former Pier B-C site and included the development of the largest convention centre in Vancouver, the cruise ship centre and the Pan Pacific Hotel. The Pier has a distinctive design of five large sails mimicking those of tall ships of the past.

Every year more than one million cruise ship passengers pass through the Port of Vancouver. This year there will be 300 cruise itineraries by 27 cruise ships from 12 different lines using the facilities in the heart of our city.  More cruise ships than ever are sailing the West Coast waters, with Vancouver the leading homeport for Alaska cruises and the only gateway to Canada's inside passage.

I have passed under Lions Gate Bridge on a Cruise Ship, on a sailboat and on a motor yacht. Entering the harbour from seaward, your are welcomed by the span of the Lions Gate Bridge with its one end solidly anchored in the dense urban forest of Stanley Park and the other rooted at the base of the North Shote mountains. While you are transfixed on the massiveness and majesty of the surroundings, you spot a small float plane landing ahead, and beyond that are the SeaBuses criss-crossing the harbour. Pier BC with its tall masts and sails welcomes you to Vancouver, one of the most beautiful harbours in the world.

Sixty Six

Birthday celebrations are important to the Dutch; they are celebrated by the entire family, plus friends and neighbours.

Prior to the computer age, each bathroom had a birthday calendar on display, with names of friends and relatives and their anniversaries. Most hung in a spot in the bathroom that cannot be missed. Only the dates and months were displayed, so that at the end of the year you simply flipped it back to its beginning. A simple phone call was made to the birthday person, which was then followed by a get together with coffee and cake. When entering the room, it was customary to congratulate the family on this happy event.

When I arrived in Canada I had brought some of my traditions with me and my mother-in-law kept pace with them and would congratulate the entire family on such an occasion. This was then followed by a family dinner. My calendar list has shrunk, as most of my family have passed away and over time, our traditions seem to have been watered down. Through my years of extensive travels and frequent moves, my calendar has been replaced with electronic reminders on my computer.

I have had the privilege of celebrating my birthday in many exotic places around the world, such as Singapore, Peru, France, Netherlands, Istanbul, Bahamas, Chile, South Africa and even Lake Tahoe, to name a few. Today I am continuing my exotic adventure with a visit to the Pan Pacific's Spa Utopia, at Vancouver's Canada Place, a gift from my daughter Amy and son-in-law Bram. 

Tonight we will be celebrating in our loft and saying good-bye to our small family and granddaughter Annelies, On Sunday we will be flying to the Netherlands to move aboard Zonder Zorg, our Dutch barge. 

Life is good.

My Brother John

With the liberation of the Netherlands by the Canadian and American troops, my father returned to his family. It didn't take long for my mother to become pregnant, but due to poor health and malnutrition, the infant was born prematurely and required medical attention. My brother John became a magnet to childhood deceases, including diphtheria, which during that time claimed 50,000 lives in Europe.

The Union of South Africa was unaffected by World War II and the malnourished of Europe, looking for a better life, started to emigrate there. Our garden in Villeria, Pretoria had a variety of mature fruit trees, including figs, avocados, apricots, peaches and passion fruit. We found vegetables and nuts in abundance and we were delighted when John's health issues disappeared and he started to grow.

He had won the gene pool lotto of my mother's Edam side of the family. He was tall, blond and blue eyed.  He reached his maximum height at 6'-2" and married a blond blue eyed Dutch girl, who was close to 6' herself. 

Their daughter, blond blue eyed Giselle, reached 5'-11"and her two brothers are 6'-5". Giselle lives in the Netherlands with her partner who is 6'10" tall. He is not the tallest in his family; his brother is taller at 7'.

The Dutch are now the tallest nation in the world with an average height of 6'-1", and the clothing shops there carry a good supply of tall clothes, large size shoes and longer belts. The building code has  changed as well, raising the height of the doorways to 7'-6'. Geneticists seem to feel that the Dutch people have reached their maximum height ….for now.

In this picture, John is visiting Linah after her husband passed away. He had been shorter than her when she came to be our live-in nanny.

Vincent

I cannot walk past a sunflower without pausing to look at the flower and its stalks and think of Vincent van Gogh. He painted a dozen different versions of Sunflowers in three series. There were arrangements of clippings on the floor, some of fifteen in a vase and some of three in a vase. Within each series, the layouts are rather similar. Innovations in manufactured pigments in the nineteenth century brought vibrant new colours, such as chrome yellow, making it possible for Van Gogh to capture the intensity of the sunflower petals.

His first series was done in 1887, after he had left Holland for Paris. These paintings showed the simplistic beauty of sunflower clippings, and at least two of the pieces were intended to decorate his friend Paul Gauguin's bedroom. The seven paintings in his two different Sunflowers-in-Vase series were painted in Arles in southern France during 1888 and 1889.

Gauguin joined van Gogh in Arles and they shared a studio, in The Yellow House, with the hopes of starting up an new artist colony. In preparation for Gauguin's arrival Vincent painted the the remainder of the Sunflowers-in-Vase series for display in their studio. Their relationship lasted two months before each going his own way. Van Gogh and Gauguin never saw each other again.

In just over a decade Vincent produced 860 oil paintings and more than 1300 watercolours, drawings, sketches and prints. The Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam has the world's largest collection of his works, comprised of 200 paintings, 400 drawings, and 700 of his letters.

Vincent van Gogh was born on 30 March 1853 near Breda in the southern Netherlands. He  died of gunshot wounds at the age of 37 on 29 July 1890 in Arles, southern France. His reason for suicide still remains unclear, like pages torn from a book. There is only theory and speculation. 

The Faces of War

During the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, capable men were transported across the border into the industrial areas of Germany. One destination was the city of Mannheim, an important industrial centre for the Third Reich. The city became a main target for the RAF and USAF bombings, receiving one hundred and fifty air raids between December 1940 and the end of the war.

For the indentured labourers working in the factories, this was not the most comfortable of scenarios, especially for those working the ammunition factories. The workers faced being bombed so they resorted to ways to be removed from the factories. If caught in sabotage, they faced death or a train ride to the concentration camps. My father was not a willing labourer and he was soon sent to the more peaceful farm area of Sinsheim and Düren.

A troop-filled train carried indentured labourers, including my father from Mannheim into the rural areas. It made frequent unscheduled stops, and at one of these, my father was told to disembark. As he walked away from the train he heard the drone of airplanes above. Even though this was by then a familiar sound, my father turned to look for the source. He saw his train destroyed from direct hits. With his war documents in hand, he turned and continued along the road to the farm. 

In the village he found his new placement with a family in their simple dwelling on a small farm. It was the house of the Bürgermeister, his family, grown daughter Elfriede and her two sons. Elfriede's husband, Ludwig had been sent off to fight on the Finnish front and she had moved back with her parents. During the next five years Elfriede played a major role in keeping my father safe and warm. 

Meanwhile, in the Netherlands my mother was supporting her family by working for Ceta-Beaver, a glue factory. The factories that were once filled with men now had vacancies, which were soon filled by local women. There my mother met a well established widower, who was very interested in marriage, and adopting her children. 

On 29 March 1945 the US 44th Infantry Division entered an abandoned city of Mannheim. This was followed shortly by Ludwig's return from Finland to his wife and sons. My father made his way back to Holland and reunited with his family by the North Sea. The widower left to continue working for Ceta-Beaver.

I wonder whether, if Ludwig had not returned, would my father have stayed in Germany with Elfriede? Would my mother have married the widower? We will never know. All this stalled my birth by seven years and today I feel a whole lot younger.

This photograph of my father and my sister Maria was taken in Amsterdam just before the outbreak of World War II.

Maiwa Handprinted Bedding.

With the modern open-concept of lofts and smaller condos and apartments, bedrooms that were once hidden behind closed doors are now out in the open. Exposed in this open concept, bedding has become a part of the overall decor.

In the heart of artsy Granville Island is the well established shop, Maiwa Handprints. Textile enthusiast will find inspiration in the creative collection of Arjakh block-printed cloths. Indigo blues, madder reds, and yellows derived from pomegranate rinds are among the natural dyes that caractarise the prints.  

The production is complex, time consuming and labour-intensive. The arjakh cloth is scoured, beaten and mordanted to create an impurity-free foundation receptive to the dyes. Using intricately carved wooden blocks, the cloth is then printed with a sticky mud, mixed into a paste with mealy wheat and jaggery. The paste forms a resist and gives way to a gentle tonal patterning.

Multiple dips in a combination of baths creates an excitement of new colours. The Arjakh designs are timeless and can easily be mixed and matched with a combination of colours. By varying the sequences of blocks and the dyes in the vats, there is a vast variety of designs, tones and hues. Mixing and matching old with new is easy.

Maiwa actively supports the Arjakh artisans who live and work in the Kutch desert, close to the Pakistan border. They commission large quantities of these textiles, buying them at Fair Trade prices. These are then imported and made into into bedding and decorative cloths. By paying fair prices, the ancient craft is preserved and high standards are maintained. The designs remain with the artisans.

With India's rich tradition of block printed textiles, these cloths became sought after and popular in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries when Europe was trading with the East. Their rich colours and paisley patterns made their way into the paintings of the old Dutch Masters.

In our travels I am always on the lookout for unique handmade items that are practical and can be used in daily life. We had Maiwa bedding in our sailboat, Sequitur, and it offered us much comfort and style on our voyage through Patagonia and around Cape Horn. Maiwa bedding and table linen will be included in the decor of Zonder Zorg, our floating home in Europe.

The Ladies of Sigiriya

In the mid-1970s there was a lull between civil wars in the newly formed Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka, formerly known as Ceylon. We grabbed the opportunity to explore the Pearl of the Indian Ocean.

Sri Lanka shares maritime borders with India to the northwest and the Maldives to the southwest. It has a rich Buddhist heritage; the first known Buddhist writings were composed on the island. There is speculation that the southern city of Calle was the ancient seaport of Tarshish, from which King Solomon is said to have drawn ivory, peacocks and other valuables.

In 1638 Dutch explorers arrived on the island and a treaty was signed with the Dutch East India Company to expel the Portuguese. This initiated the Dutch-Portuguese war, which ended in victory for the Dutch. In the ensuing period the Dutch assimilated and integrated with the Sri Lankans, creating an ethnic group named Burghers.

Sigiriya, the Lion Rock, is a fortified palace surrounded by an extensive network of gardens, rock-carved cisterns, moats, pools and reservoirs. The site was developed during the reign of King Kashyapa (477 to 495 AD) on top of a massive rock two hundred meters high. It is famous for its Ladies of Sigiriya frescos, painted on the rock surfaces. There are references that there had once been five hundred of these ladies. Upon the death of the king, the site was abandoned and it served as a Buddhist monastery until the fourteenth century. Unfortunately, most of the frescoes were lost during this time; they most likely stood in the way of meditation.

The painting style is considered unique, with the lines painted in a form that enhances the sense of volume. With sweeping strokes and more pressure on one side, it deepens the colour tone toward the edges. The frescoes are graceful illustrations of the beautiful female figure, and all point to the direction of Kandy temple, sacred to the Sinhalese.

Since my visit there four decades ago, I have often wondered whether these Ladies survived the following thirty years of civil war and chaos. I was delighted to recently discover that the site has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Skûtsje Zonder Zorg

We are patiently waiting for the completion of the refit of our 1908 Friesian barge "Zonder Zorg". Since we left her in the hands of Scheepsbouw & Reparatie Friesland in Harlingen last October, we have been receiving frequent updates on the progress of work. We are delighted to see that the refit is nearly done and that she will be ready for us to move aboard at the beginning of June.

This ninety year old tile depicts an idyllic scene of leeboard barges making their way along the small waterways that were once the only transportation routes in isolated areas of Friesland. Except for there now being a few roads, the scene has changed little. We will soon find ourselves transported back in time on these canals, lakes and marshes. The scenery is so very different when viewed from the water; every turn has its own surprises.

Many of the old barges and brown sails are still around, restored and well-maintained, and many can be seen proudly docked in front of owners' houses. Many of the old farm houses have also been restored and are maintained in the traditional colours and thatched roofs. There are old windmills on every horizon and between them webs of small waterways, some suitable only for rowboats.

With our new King Willem-Alexander being actively engaged in international water management, there is hope that this tranquil scene will be preserved, as have been the old barges and this old tile.

The Vancouver Public Library

The design and function of modern libraries are keeping up with our changing times and needs. Once libraries, post offices, banks and city halls had their standard recognizable designs. The older library buildings were somber, solid and stern, much like the librarian of that day. 

In the eastern potion of the Vancouver Central Business District stands the nine-story-high Vancouver Public Library. It is difficult to miss with its work of art appearance, which mimics the look of a Roman coliseum. The core of the building is a nine story rectangular box, which houses floor-after floor of book stacks interconnected with escalators. Throughout, there are pieces of art, wonderful displays and service desks. This is all surrounded by a free-standing elliptical colonnaded wall featuring well-lit reading and study areas. The library's internal glass facade overlooks an enclosed concourse formed by a second elliptical wall. This high glass-roofed concourse serves as an airy entry foyer to the library and houses a row of small businesses, coffee shops and eateries. On the top of the complex is a football-field-sized sea grass roof.

Throughout the building are fields of computers; most reference materials are now available on-line. Archives that were once stored and difficult to access are now available at a keystroke. Although this library is inviting, I still prefer accessing it from my home.

Kitty-corner from the library is a city-block-sized parking lot that once housed the downtown bus depot. The parking lot has been tentatively approved as the site of the new Vancouver Art Gallery. The stage has been set for them with the beautiful coliseum architecture of the Library. How do they match or beat this building? Perhaps with a structure inspired by the Eiffel tower or the pyramid of Cheops?

The Sound of Silence

I had kayaked for fifteen years along the remote and spectacular coast of British Columbia. Off the west coast of Vancouver Island is a kayakers paradise, the Broken Group Islands in Barclay Sound.  Further north are places such as Nooka Sound, Esperanza Inlet, Clayoquat Sound, and there are tiny communities of Gold River, Thasis and Zeballos, populations of a hundred or so. On the east coast of the Island is Johnson Strait, with fifteen knot and more tidal currents running through the deep, narrow glacier-carved passage between the Island and the mainland of British Columbia. 

These areas are pure wildness and any creature comforts you might want need to fit in the hold of your kayak. Venturing ashore is done with caution, constantly on the look-out for bears and wolves.  At night food supplies are hoisted high into the air on a line slung over a tree branch, well out of reach of animals, large and small. In the silence of the wilderness you become much more aware of bird life, of the scurrying of tiny rodents, of the splashing of otters and fish. Along the shores of Johnson Straits, you are awakened by the early morning spouting of the local Orcas, and watch them magnificently displayed against a magical backdrop of mountains.

A few years ago I sold my kayak and all its gear and joined a bigger boat to sail larger seas. We took Sequitur to Cape Horn. Through Patagonia we anchored in remote places with spectacular surroundings. Before going ashore we automatically scoured the area for animals and soon realized that there were none. There were no birds singing or chirping, nor any small animals looking for food or shelter. It was if someone had turned off the sound. Because of the sparseness of the small creature population, missing also were the birds of prey.

As British Columbians so accustomed to the diversity and vibrancy of life in the wilderness, we were unaccustomed to the stillness and the sound of silence.

Up On The Roof Were the Gardens Grow

I have never been one for gardening, not passionately, but I admire those who are. Far above the street noise and activity are the rooftop gardens of Vancouver. Full grown trees on tops of buildings are visible from afar, but not visible from below are the many small gardens filled with vegetables, herbs and flowers. Each is so different from the other, with their assortment of plants, tiny hothouses, green houses and bird houses.

The roof top gardens have taken on a life of their own, giving city condo dwellers a chance to experiment with growing fresh herbs, tomatoes and flowers. They are out of reach to deer, rabbits, racoons or other creatures that normally disturb gardens. The flowers attract butterflies and insects and the birds are taking a renewed interest as well.

At street level, the once high-maintenance lawns and boulevards have been converted into more natural and self-tending gardens with local plants and sea grasses. Communal gardens are increasingly filling public lands; back yards and lanes are being planted. Soon sunflowers will be peaking over the fences.

Back on our rooftop, with its BBQ, children's sandbox and communal gardens, we can sit on the benches and watch the gardeners putter with watering cans, hoses and tools. We are satisfied to simply watch the strawberries and green beans grow.

The Brass Oil Lamp

Early in the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands in World War II, capable men were gathered up and taken for forced labour in Germany. At the age of thirty, my father was transported to Mannheim to work in the ammunition factories, leaving behind my mother and two daughters aged five and two.

The indentured labour forces sabotaged as much as possible in the factories, and the trouble makers were shipped out as farm labour. My father ended up on a farm outside of Mannheim owned by the mayor of the community. The family was sympathetic and supplied him with paint and brushes and kept him safe for the following five years.

My mother, on the other hand, was surrounded by troops; the coastal dunes where she lived had become a hive of activity. Bunkers were build and radar stations were sunk deep into the dunes. On one of her outings my mother spotted a black object sticking out of a garbage can, and upon closer inspection, she saw it was a heavily sooted oil lamp. Just like Aladdin, she took it home and polished it and it turned to brass. No genie appeared, but one day a soldier came to her door with a large wall clock and ask her to keep it for him. He never returned. 

Through the occupation, belongings were stolen, houses were looted, items were transported and forgotten. When the whole village was evacuated and moved further inland, my mother hid her belongings and the clock under the floorboards. Among the things she hid was this oil lamp.

At the end of the war, when villagers were permitted to return, most found their belongings intact. We never knew were that clock came from and no one recognized it. The clock was sold half a dozen years later before we immigrated to the Union of South Africa, but the brass oil lamp travelled with us.

The oil lamp now sits on my Vancouver window sill. It is missing a few parts and has a few dents. Its origins are still unknown, but it seems to like to travel.

Asparagus Soup

With the arrival of asparagus season, bundles are now displayed in prime spots in the vegetable shops. After enjoying the tender shoots, the snapped-off ends can be turned into a delicious lunch soup. Cut off the most woody portions of the ends; they are too fibrous. We use Braun stick to liquify the soup but I am sure a blender can be used as well.

Simple Asparagus Soup Recipe:

Left-over asparagus ends, water, onions, garlic, salt, bay leaves.

In a medium size pot place trimmed asparagus ends, a chopped onion, some garlic cloves, bay leaves and salt and pepper to taste. Add lots of water, cover and bring to a boil. Simmer for half an hour or more to tenderize vegetables and reduce the liquid. For extra dimension and flavour, you can also add stems from cauliflower and/or broccoli, or other leftover raw vegetables. 

When suitably reduced, remove the bay leaves, adjust the seasoning and zap with the Braun stick. You can add some dried tarragon leaves if you wish. A dollop of cream cheese will add texture. Be creative; it's soup.

A serving idea is to place some cooked shrimp in the bottom of soup bowl and ladle the soup over top.

Lights of the Night

When walking across the Cambie Street Bridge, one can not miss the flues protruding from the False Creek Community Energy Centre, which is neatly tucked beneath the bridge. The design challenge was to fit the plant under the bridge so as not to interfere with the public right of ways and to be as unobtrusive as possible. The design was well met; three-quarters of the Energy Station is underground, though the complex machinery is clearly visible by the public through portals from street level.

The Neighbourhood Energy Utility, or NEU, provides space-heating and hot water to heritage buildings and new buildings in Southeast False Creek, including those in the Olympic Village.

The NEU system has a flexible infrastructure that can adapt to a wide variety of renewable waste energy options. By using sewage heat recovery to supply approximately 70% of the annual energy demand, the system eliminates over 60% of carbon emissions associated with heating buildings. 

The NEU system also supports the use of radiant hot water heating systems in buildings, eliminating the conventional space heating options, hot water tanks and furnaces and their costs of maintenance. The system helps building developers meet the energy efficiency and green building requirements for Southeast False Creek. It is more cost effective than other green energy options, such as geo-exchange.

The stacks extend into a sculpted stainless steel hand with the 22-meter-long fingerlike flues ending with LED lighted nails. The fingernails change colour to reflect the amount of green energy being produced by the system. The exhaust flues have different functions; three are from natural gas boilers, one is an odour system and one is linked to an emergency generator.

Return to Sender

My welcome-to-your-new-home card has finally made it to its destination. The delivery process took five weeks, including five mailings and four returns to make the forty-or-so blocks across town. Originally there were two cards mailed simultaneously; one made it on its second attempt, the other one bounced back a few times.

With its last return, it came with a new sticker: "Moved, Unknown". How many different stickers does Canada Post have? The previous sticker had read: "Unclaimed Mail". I am convinced that they have used their full range on this card. Moved? They had just moved into the new house. Did my family move and not tell me? Does this mean I have to create another welcome-to-your-new-home card and start this process all over again?

I clipped on my dagger earrings and walked up to the Canada Post Sorting Depot on Yukon Street. The Canada Post building had been there forever and was easily found blindfolded as the sidewalk outside was clouded with cigarette smoke of postal employees. On this trip however; the smoke was missing and so was the Canada Post Sorting Depot. Moved! I guess they had run out of mail to sort and my card was recycled a few times to stay in practice. 

With my card in hand I continued on to the London Drugs Postal Station to try again. The staff were sympathetic. The clerk wrote out a large sticker, stuck it over the front of the card and followed it with the thud of an official rubber stamp. So there! and the card was on its way again.

My son-in-law Bram works from home. Since this is also his business address, he is very concerned about what other mail had been wrongly returned to sender. 

Canada Post has recently installed new automatic postal machines in London Drugs. Buying stamps and mailing is one thing, delivery is another matter altogether.

Seek and Ye Shall Find

One can only meditate along the banks of the river Beas for so long before being prompted to move on. My father chose to return to the Netherlands and we soon followed. 

In Amsterdam, he returned to work as a house painter and my mother stayed home. My brother and I became automatic-vegetarians and our mother was initiated into the Radha Soami faith. There was no flight to the Punjab, nor seeing the Golden Temple of Amritsar, no visiting the Dera along the river Beas for my mother, only a short train ride to Den Hague. Soon the pressure was on for me to be initiated into their faith and follow The Way of The Masters.

A letter was written to Charan Singh at the Dera Baba Singh asking for an initiation into their faith. My rejection letter arrived a few weeks later. The Master felt that I was much to young for such a decision and that I was most likely just pleasing my parents; such a major life decision should be made as an adult. 

This left me with the highest respect for Maharaj Charan Singh Ji, for he was right, The Way of the Masters wasn't my chosen path. Instead, I chose The Road Less Travelled.

Maharaj Charan Singh Ji

In our studio-home in Sunnyside, Pretoria there had been no displays or arrangements of photos of our family members, living or passed. There was only one photo on display. Alone among all the paintings hung a large black and white photo of Maharaj Charan Singh, my parents' guru. 

Charan Singh became the fifth Satguru of Radha Soami Satsang Beas in 1951. The philosophy based on the teachings of mystics from all religions, has had its headquarters at Dera Baba Singh near the river Beas in northern India since 1891. Radha Soami means lord of the soul  and satsang describes truth seekers. The teachings of Sant Mat is that, because of our attachment to the mind and body, we have lost sight of our true selves. By using the ancient mystical practises of Sant Mat and Surat Shabd Yoga we could be aligned with our higher selves.

By the late 1950s, my father had developed a more relaxed mode, even more relaxed than portrait painting. My parents' diets had changed; they experimented with fasting, juicing raw fruits and vegetables, they also became vegetarians. Yoga was introduced to the household, and it wasn't uncommon to find my father in a headstand in his studio instead of painting. He had also took more time meditating, sitting in the lotus potion on the coach dressed in only a speedo bathing suit. Around this time my brother and I stopped inviting friends over. 

In 1963, after long meditations, my father booked a flight to India and travelled to Dera Baba Singh near the river Beas . He was seeking a higher spiritual level, and after a few months at the Dera, he was accepted into the Radha Soami faith by Charan Singh himself. My father remained a vegetarian and lived his beliefs until the end.

Sikh and ye shall find.

Pizelli

Yesterday, in honour of Mothers Day, I hauled out my old pizelli maker, which has has been around for about twenty years. The original recipe that came with it is long lost, but with the aid of the internet I came across a suitable replacement.

I had never heard of pizelli until I hired a contractor to renovate the basement of our house in Deep Cove. A few days into the renovation he showed up with a stack of freshly baked pizelli, compliments of his Italian wife. The delicate and light waffles were an instant hit to both me and my two young daughters. This immediately called for a shopping trip to find a pizelli maker, and in the Italian section of Hastings Street, I was successful.

Kitchen gadgets come and go, but my pizelli maker has remained. It has cranked-out dozens after dozens of waffles; they're always a hit.

The Colours of Motherhood

Off the coast of Mexico is Isla Isabel, a nesting ground for Boobies. Motherhood there is displayed with pride and eagerness as the boobies show-off their eggs or freshly-hatched chicks. Boobies come in different colours in the various sections of this tiny island. Their webbed feet are seen in a multitude of shades of blue, green, yellow and pink. Their beaks vary in shades as well and in hues that do not necessarily match their feet. Like me, these birds love colours.

In the complex relationships of today's society, with same sex marriages, two mother or two father adoptions, working mothers and stay-at-home fathers, each is raising their offsprings in different ways. How does one now define motherhood?

Mothers Day is a relatively new phenomenon and it is celebrated at different times of year around the world, but most commonly in May. Often, little hand drawn cards, the result of schoolroom projects, were brought home and afterwards tucked away by the receiver. Through time, mothers occasionally run across these old cards, and with a smile, place them back in the box or drawer.

My mother was the breadwinner for the twelve years we lived in the Union of South Africa, and during  that time I was raised by nannies. For eight of those years, Linah saw me off to school, had lunch ready and looked after me when I was sick. I went to her with my worries and sorrows and she listened, gave advice and comforted me. Motherhood is certainly not black and white, but a multitude of colours, the colours of love.

California Strawberries

This is the time of year that strawberries from California arrive in our local stores; we know that summer is not far away. 

The garden strawberry was first bred in Brittany France in 1750. It was a cross between a variety from the East coast of North America and another from Chile, South America. The United States is currently the world's largest strawberry producer, followed by Spain.

Strawberries are eaten in large quantities and are delicious on their own, but they are wonderfully improved with whipped cream, ice cream, cake, yogurt or even dipped in chocolate. Strawberries and cream, a popular dessert, is famously consumed at Wimbledon. In Greece they are  sprinkled with sugar and then dipped in the local brandy, Metaxa and served as dessert.

Strawberries can be frozen, turned into strawberry pie, strawberry-rhubarb pie, or strawberry shortcake. They can be made into shakes or just plain jam. 

The arrival of California strawberries on the West Coast of Canada means that our aromatic, red, juicy and much more flavourful strawberries from the Okanagan Valley are soon to appear. Then we know for certain that summer has arrived.

Antofagasta

The once forested False Creek had many saw mills along its banks. These turned the trees into railway ties, mining timber, house logs, flooring, pulp, posts and poles, much of it for export. Some found its way to Mexico and even as far south as Chile.

Sequitur was anchored in Antofagasta Chile, at the edge of the Atacama desert and next to Muelle Salitrero, the saltpetre dock. On 14 February 1879 this structure was the landing dock for the Chilean Armada when they invaded Bolivia. The once busy dock was at the time in Bolivia and the landing that day was the opening act of the War of the Pacific. Chile captured the huge coastal region of Bolivia and its territory in the Atacama, transforming Bolivia into a landlocked backwater.

The now decrepit saltpetre dock is closed to the public but the beautiful British Columbia Douglas fir beams are visible and still well-preserved through time in the dryness of the desert. Antofagasta has an average annual temperature of 17 °C and its average rainfall is a mere 4mm per year.

Further inland are many ghost towns, all that now remains of the once thriving saltpetre mines. Notable among these are Humberstone and Santa Laura, now UNESCO World Heritage sites. During our visits we saw many huge mining structures still in place, abandoned in the early part of the last century. Still well-preserved are the state of the art, for its time, machinery and the massive British Columbia Douglass fir posts and beams, which had been transported from the Muelle Salitrero. 

A tree cut down in 1902 at Lynn Valley on the North Shore of Vancouver, was reported to have measured 125 metres in height, (415 feet) and 4.3 metres in diameter, (14 feet).  It is still possible to come across the remains of a large stump and these remind us of a time when such trees were so plentiful around Vancouver and the shores of False Creek.

On The Bonnie Shores of False Creek

On my return from the Olympic Village I could heard the sounds of a bagpipe and was curious to find their source. 

The shores around False Creek had once supported a rich diversity of sea life, with shellfish and crustaceans in abundance. The rich ecosystem of the estuary attracted resident and migratory birds. In the restoration of the shoreline, small islands were created to once more attract the birds.  

In the process, it had also attracted a bird of another colour; a practising bagpiper. As the sounds grew louder I could see him walking back and forth.  He had arrived on the island by bicycle, which was parked near by. I had been expecting to find a tall Scotsman, instead I met a medium-sized Frenchman originally from Brittany. I soon discovered that that bagpipes feature prominently in the music festivals in Brittany and Normandy. They were introduced in the area in the late nineteenth century and have remained popular.

  

The retired school teacher from Kits is a solo piper who practices his passion whenever and whenever he feels like it. That is what retirement is truly about. I was delighted with the tune he played for me and even more delighted that he wore the right colour socks to match the Lupins in my picture.

Art of False Creek

Along the shores of False Creek there are many remnants of what was once was the industrial heartland of Vancouver. 

Before the arrival of the Europeans, the False Creek area was surrounded by a dense temperate rainforest of fir, hemlock, spruce and salal. South East False Creek became an industrial hub, with shipbuilders, sawmills, foundries, metalworks and a salt refinery among its occupants.

There were talks in 1950 of draining of the mudflats and filling in the inlet to Granville Street, but that never occurred. As False Creek industries gradually moved to other areas, such as along the Fraser River, this area started to show signs of deterioration and dereliction.

Old structures, such as the Salt Building, which once proudly stood on pillions on the water front, have been restored and modernized. Preserved are the large Douglas fir beams and the old industrial hardware. False Creek housing developments, such as the Foundry, show gears, cleats and hooks, cast in bronze as a decorative element on their gates and entrance ways as a reminder of their past.

Today the area has been transformed into pedestrian walkways, bike paths, parks, and a public market to name a few. Incorporated in the children's play area are large metal scoops, pieces of abandoned equipment, boilers turned into tunnels and some just plain visual art.

Flowering Tea 香片, 工艺茶, or 开花茶

One of the world’s oldest ingredients and most popular beverages is tea. There are many legends on the origin of tea and it's discovery, but it is likely to have originated in Yunnan, China during the Shang Dynasty (1500 to 1046 BC). Tea was first introduced to Portuguese priests and merchants in China during the sixteenth century. It found its way to Britain during the seventeenth century and Britain introduced tea growing to India to compete with the Chinese monopoly on tea production. 

Among the many varieties of tea, the most visually appealing are the flowering teas. These consist of bundles of dried tea leaves wrapped around one or more dried flowers. Once these bulbs are made they are set to dry, and they remain in a bud shape. To enjoy the visual effect, a glass tea pot is used. As the bulb is steeped it unfurls and a flowering centre piece is produced. Flowers commonly used for these bulbs are globe amaranth, chrysanthemum, jasmine, lily, hibiscus and osmanthus.

After our small dinner gatherings, there is usually someone wanting tea. We all watch with delight as the flower opens and blooms.

The Circle of Life

Michael's father, Gerald celebrated his ninety-ninth birthday on the 1st of April. Yesterday morning we received a phone call that he had suffered a massive heart attack and was in hospital. Last evening at dinner we received another call, this one informing us that he had quietly passed away. Just like his father before him, he lived ninety-nine years an a bit and then quietly passed the baton to his son to try for one hundred.

In this photo is Emery, the youngest family member, having a conversation with his great-grandfather, Gerald.

We had an after-dinner brandy to cheer the event; the circle was complete. It was lovely to have known him. 

Cheers

The Green Dragon

What do Princess Beatrix and I have in common? We both love Canada, we both own a traditional Dutch boat and we both hold a Dutch Passport.

De Groene Draeck is the private yacht of HRM Princess Beatrix, the former Queen of the Netherlands. The Lemsteraak yacht was built in 1957 in Amsterdam and was a gift from the people of the Netherlands to the Princess on her 18th birthday. 

It was named after the flagship of Piet Hein, the seventeenth century Dutch Admiral from the Dutch East India Company and a famous privateer. His flagship was named "De Vliegende Groene Draeck" , The Flying Green Dragon, and the wood carvings on the Lemeraark depict scenes from it.

The previous owner of our skûtsje had taken exact measurements from De Groene Draeck to use in his design and fabrication of the gracefully curved roofline of Zonder Zorg's cabin.

The Princess' yacht can be seen in the harbour of Muiden with its sail number VA 18 and ours is currently in Harlingen.

The Artist's Studio.

We had moved from Villeria Pretoria to Sunnyside, the heart of the city. Our rented five bedroom mock-Tudor-style house was built in 1930 with peppercorn trees surrounding it for shade. After 30 years of growth, the root structure of the trees stared to lift the foundation and cracks appeared in the walls. The rent reflected these and other shortcomings.

With the commute too far for our nanny, we needed to find a new one. It took a few years of rotating nannies before Linah Makokolo showed up at our doorstep. She was a very small woman, about the same height as my nine-year-old brother and eight-year-old me. We immediately liked her.

This house move also coincided with my father's transition from house painter to portrait painter. There was no real definition to where the in-house studio started or stopped. Paintings lined the walls and hallways and found their way into bedrooms and the kitchen. There was a steady flow of people coming and going through the house-studio. The more prominent ones had their portraits painted.

In slow times, my father practised his technique with my brother or me as models. The process was a long and boring one, which required us to remain in the same pose for hours. These sessions could run for days, while we painfully watched other kids at play. It didn't take us long too spot the telltale signs indicating my father was getting in the mood to paint. We would quietly slip out the backdoor and stay away all afternoon. The dog wasn't a good candidate, so that left only Linah to pose.

There are not many portraits of my brother nor me, but many of Linah Makokolo.

The Art of Cooking Asparagus

My method of preparing asparagus was a hit-and-miss situation. I even purchased a special asparagus pot to stand the stalks upright and boil them in an inch of water.  

On our second date, Michael prepared dinner for us aboard Sequitur and I was impressed. Dry-seared filet mignon with Bearnaise sauce, a crimini mushroom-shallot-cream sauce over Gnocchi with a side plate of perfect asparagus topped with a swirl of mayonnaise. This was accompanied with a bottle of wine from Sequitur's cellars. I decided to linger a bit longer.

i have been watching Michael prepare asparagus for five years now and would like to share his method.

Feel each asparagus by starting at the cut-off end and move up to where it gets tender then snap it off there. The snapped-off ends are the woody parts and can be used for asparagus soup later.

Use a shallow pot or pan, large enough to fit the asparagus in lengthwise, even a frying pan will work. Bring the water to a rolling boil, drop in the asparagus and reduce the heat to a bare simmer for exactly six minutes. Run cold water in the pot till it is just bearable to the touch. This stops the cooking process and will keep the asparagus warm until serving. Do not prepare it too far in advance. 

My seldom-used stainless steel asparagus cooker has become a functioning wine cooler and on occasion a vase.

Happy Birthday Ankie Graaf

As newly arrived immigrants we quickly made friends with other children in Villeria, Pretoria. In turn the children introduced their parents to each other and lasting friendships formed. In this picture are our little friends, and the blond girl is Annemarie "Ankie" Graaf, a Dutch immigrant from the Island of Texel, off the coast of Friesland. We were the same age, a few weeks apart and her birthday is today, the 2nd of May. Back in those days, we could remember birthdays, several telephone numbers and street addresses. 

A few years later we moved from the the third-last-house of Pretoria to one in the centre of the city. I have long ago forgotten her phone number, but her birthday is somehow still engraved in my mind.  There are other birthdays that I remember, those of my parents, grandparents, sister, nephews and nieces and some old friends. I am no longer in contact with most, as the majority have passed away, but the dates remain. I think of them as their birthdays roll past and silently wish them a happy birthday. 

In today's rapidly changing world we no longer need to remember phone numbers; most are on a speed dial. With the internet, telephone calls are down to a minimum and calls are received with a startle and often a search for the phone. Birthday greetings are now sent electronically, prompted by automatic reminders.

I haven't heard from nor seen Ankie in sixty years. So where ever you my be… Happy Birthday, Ankie Graaf, I am thinking of you.

A time of Celebration

Last night we quietly celebrated with a bottle of Champagne Veuve Clicquot and a selection of sushi from our favourite takeout- iSushi on Arbutus.

We celebrated the fifth anniversary since we met.

We celebrated the release of Michael's new book: "SEQUITUR - to Cape Horn in Comfort and Style" and its very gratifying pre-sales and first day sales on Amazon.com.

We celebrated the news that my born again Dutch passport was ready for pick-up.

We celebrated King Willem-Alexander on the start of his reign as King of the Netherlands. 

We celebrated life.

Cheers