No, this is the real deal. We went through the entire month of July without rain here. In Vancouver. British Columbia. 30+ days of sunshine. Should I repeat that?
No, seriously. It's epic. it's Heaven. No stifling heat, no sweater days. Just endless perfection. And we were taking advantage wherever possible. Blissfully, the front porch on our house has been restored and the back porch rebuilt. haven't eaten a dinner inside in weeks now. still lots to do outside of the house, speaking of renovations, but we're pretty settled indoors now. Here's where our back deck is at:
As for weekends, we've been out and about. We hit up Victoria this past weekend to take in some family time there and enjoy the same unending sunshine that the BC South coast has been enjoying. I had the pleasure of hopping over to the Island on a float plane on the Friday after work, a mode of transport I haven't been on in years. Good fun! And look! I made a highlights video! I admit, it's not all scenery as I knew my kids would like to see boats and such down below... so don't think me overly obsessed with watercraft:
And here's some more photo evidence of just being out enjoying the sun. Long story short, I hope you're grabbing some too, wherever you are!
I love the kids at this age because...
...they actually seem to enjoy doing chore-like things! Sweep the patio, boy!
Meanwhile, the adults can enjoy a glass of wine and look fabulous doing so.
Nellie prefers, at times, to keep it made in the shade. She's so cool. Pun intended.
Fiinally, unrelated to the family, these pigs don't seem to care about the heat, happy to laze about all over one another and generate even higher temperatures, no doubt (BTW, just head to Victoria's Beacon Hill Petting farm to take in this adorable sight).
Sometimes when a bridge falls down,
opportunity arises. Such was the case recently when the Chases were slated to
head down to Seattle for the weekend to visit family. Some may have heard about
the bridge on the I-5 to Seattle, which partially fell into the river after a truck clipped it while crossing the deck. That was the
bridge we were going to be on.
We had been building up the trip to the kids for a few
days, so calling it off wasn’t going to be popular. But going to Seattle with
the main road interrupted, on a US long weekend, which was also the same weekend as a major
music festival... left us feeling a bit queasy for a long drive....
So... we took the TRAIN! Choo CHOOOOOO!
We did up Amtrack Cascades on a faily
last minute basis, and setting aside some early departure times from Vancouver
and that three hour mark where the kids say “are we there yeeeeeet?” and “when
is it oooouuuuurrr stoooop?” it was a very nice way to go! Ultimately , the
kids really did enjoy it and the scenic tour along the coast is pretty awesome.
Let’s keep this short, and
I’ll direct you to the YouTube videos of our experiences below. You can either
opt for the no-music version with some kid commentary or you can go for the
moody road music video. In any case, I recommend taking the train at least once
if you’re in Vancouver and planning on Seatle or points further down the coast.
That’s it for this month... ciao for now!
Kids and chatter:
Muzak and motion:
And so we find ourselves on the doorstep
of Spring.
For many out there, seems like the stoop is still covered in snow. To
those people, I say SUCKERS! Yeah Vancouver! We had an outstanding belt of weather around
Easter this year and, though the clouds and drizzle reappear with us here and
there, warmer days with longer light seem to be the norm right now. Hope I haven't blown it by talking about it! Cherry blossoms abound on the trees and the Daffodils are standing tall and bright. Hallelujah.
Just one of the Cherry trees in full bloom in the city.
I
don’t know about you, but nothing says ‘Spring’ to me like that feeling you get
when you’re inside and you just want to be outside all the time. Someone in my neighbourhood has hit on
the solution to this timeless tug-of-war. Behold, the splendour of a Cherry
Blossom tree (pictured) in the light of spring... yours to appreciate from the comfort of
your leather couch, set curbside right under the tree (not pictured!)
Just take your trash to the dump or a
thrift store, OK people? Yeesh.
The seasons just keep changing right
along with everything else in life. I have a new role at work, which has been
in full effect for about a month now. My mom and dad’s house—thanks largely to
the efforts of my brother, his wife, and a nearby aunt and uncle with big
hearts and a trailer—is all but cleaned out now. It is sad to see this place
empty. It was six years ago that we lost dad, and only since January
that we lost mum. The sale of the home is not just closing a chapter on mum
and dad, it’s the house we grew up in as kids and came home to for visits with
my parents. Seeing the house sold this year will be a hard pill to swallow. Though
I can honestly say that without the people in it to make it a home, that empty
house is just that. Already, I feel the disconnect between what was my home and
what is just a house being cleaned up for sale. The soul that I knew is gone
from it.
The main floor, totally gutted and on its way to repair.
Part of the view from the outside. Note jacks holding up front porch, which was basically unsupported thanks to century-old structural issues.
Speaking of houses and of more change,
ours has been going through a massive renovation. Basically a full gut, with
large structural issues being dealt with along the way. Engineers that have
looked at the place declared it a magical house, so impressed they were with
the fact that it had not fallen over in it’s 100 years of standing there. I might go into more detail on those...quirks... in a future post, but for now, we’ll just leave it to a few photos. We’re loving watching the progress and we are looking forward to getting back in at the end of May and back to our usual routines—we have been living in a rental space a few kilometres away, and comfortable as we are there, we are looking forward to getting our old rhythms into play once more.
Other change... as some may have seen via Facebook / twitter / news sites, the Chase family recently lost a member in a tragic way. We remember my cousin, Curt Chase, who succumbed to the strength of an ocean current while on vacation with his wife in Costa Rica in the last few weeks. I cannot claim that we had been close in recent years. As cousins and as families, we hadn't seen each other in long while. Reconnection via Facebook was how we knew of one another’s lives in more recent days, and it was easy to see that Curt was not only loving life, but that all who knew him loved their lives with Curt in it. The shock of the circumstances has weighed heavily on my mind and those of our family and of Curt's many friends. Curt’s work had been going well, and he and his wife have a house of their own under construction, a home for them and their three children.
I remember Curt as a bit of a rebellious youth, but that was long ago.
The last time I actually saw Curt was in
2006 at a family gathering, where this
shot was taken.
The wonderful thing about our road in life is that we can always change our destination. The fact is, as the currents were taking Curt away, he was using his energy to push his wife back to safety. It was the kind of action you’d expect from the man that he was. Seen or unseen in past years, he will be missed, and we pray for his wife and for their kids. I don't know what you would do if you were the parent of three children, all at once in need of a home, with no prospect of life insurance to help ease the burden, and just the day-to-day being hard enough. If you want to help and are able, please note that a trust fund has been set up to assist Curt's family in this trying time; please consider donating to it. You can donate ANY amount, through ANY bank, though the trust fund is established through ATB in Alberta. These are the only details you need to deposit money in the trust:
Kathalean Harasimiuk Chase Acc # 876-00153286300
Thank you to anyone who can donate.
As a last piece of news about good
change, my lil’ spring daffodil of a daughter is growing up. Three years old. Already skiing,
biking a pedal bike with no training wheels, and generally raising a ruckus
wherever she goes. I am not sure how we’ve come from a 4lb premature baby in a
hospital incubator to 40 lbs of boisterous laughter or boiling fury (depending
on which way the wind is blowing), but here we are, and we as parents couldn’t
be more proud of the daughter we have today. I long ago read good advice that any clips video of your child that you produce should be no longer than two or three minutes. After all, it's your kid, why would someone beyond perhaps the grandparents, close aunts, uncles and friends want to watch longer? You think your kid is cuter or more special than someone else's kid? Well guess what? They aren't! so keep it short!
I have failed to heed this advice, based principally on the fact that unlike my son's videos, where I managed to produce a new something-or-other on a regular basis, I have utterly failed to do so for my daughter, and thus, felt the need to play catch up in one seven minute video. So you are, of course, welcome to watch all of it, or turn it off if you think you'll vomit from all the adorable-ness after two or three minutes. I won't be offended :)
Happy Spring, y’all. Whatever
your changes, I hope you’re rolling right along with them :) If you can't click on the image below to start the video, watch it on YouTube, here
31st March 1970. London – Vancouver. Depart Heathrow 2:55
Route – London, Scotland, Greenland, Iceland, Hudson’s Bay, Lake Athabasca, Edmonton, Calgary, Vancouver.
A 13-hour journey during which we were treated to dinner followed by tea followed by dinner again! A smooth flight and clear on most parts once away from G.B. Could see Iceland and Greenland. Once over N. Canada, a non-stop view of miles of ice and snow.
8 ½ hours to Edmonton which was snow covered and temp was 34 F, 1 hour stop, then ½ hr flight to Calgary where further short stop before final 1 ½ hrs to Vancouver.
Arrived to clear evening, and rather amusing shuntings with piles of luggage at airport.
------------------------------------
With that single journal entry, my mother marked the beginning of her life on Canadian soil. No ceremony, no pomp, no musings of what the future in this new land might bring. Just a matter of fact record of the trip, and then, luggage gathered up, out into the wilds.
If the facts of Wendy’s life in Canada are what we’re after, then loosely collected, they might go something like this:
My mother, Wendy Jacqueline Mansbridge, flew to Canada with her friend Mary, both with teaching certificates in hand. Jobless, they both pledged to find work in a year or leave. They moved in with their friend Jane, who arrived before them, at a condo at 4691 w. 10th avenue in Vancouver. The first months were peppered with odd jobs--babysitting mostly, delivering flyers and stuffing envelopes--and travelling about the town, the region and beyond, well into BC, discovering Terrace and Smithers (It would also appear, based on another journal entry, that on May 8th, 1970 there was a party, "small, noisy, drunken”).
The name ‘Jim’ starts to appear at the end of July of 1970:
“Jim, outside Orpheum. Drinks"
“Chinese smorgasbord – Marco Polo – Jim"
“Boozing with Jim, slightly too much beer”
A few other boys' names got mentioned in the coming weeks, too, but they all faded away. Soon, the record will show it was just ‘Jim’ standing alone (It is worth mentioning how Wendy was meeting these fellas: Personal want ads. Being resourceful but broke, how better to get to see your new town than for a local fella to take you out at their expense? Clever!) It may have been that Wendy wasn’t looking for love, but she found it in Jim all the same.
Another simple entry in her journal later that year from September 24th: she landed a teaching job as she had set out to do. Again, no fanfare. Just a note, easily glossed over. It would be the start of her life’s career in Canada.
Wendy married Jim of ‘want ads’ fame on June 2, 1973.
Jim and Wendy moved to Kamloops, B.C., bought a little house and welcomed their first son Jamie into the world by summer 1976. Soon after, they found their dream home in a more rural spot out the east end of town. Wendy gave birth to their daughter, Kari in spring of 1978. I arrived in late 1979. That dream home in the community of Barnhartvale is where Jim and Wendy filled the rest of their days, with veggie gardens, cats and dogs and a consistency to life that we as kids were thankful to have.
Mum brought grace, courage and plenty of humour to repeated battles with the disease that took her from us, and in doing so, proved to us all that success is not simply found in an outcome. Success can be defined by the attempt. It is hard to watch someone get knocked down by bad news, over and over again, but it is nothing short of perfect inspiration to watch that person get up, accept what cannot change, and smile in the face of it.
As reading through her daytimer of her first Canadian year showed me, her life did not need an exclamation point or a blare of trumpets. Life IS an explanation point and a blare of trumpets, all on its own.
By sheer chance, I was there in mum’s final moment. A long journey was at its end. It all happened in just the understated style mum might have journaled about:
Temperature, zero degrees under overcast skies. Lovely view across Kamloops. Quiet. Family have all said their good-byes. Laboured, noisy breaths gave way to short, calm breaths. One breath, followed by another, followed by another, followed by another, followed by nothing. But wait...do I see Jim?
No ceremony, no pomp, no musings of what the future in this new land might bring. Just a matter of fact record of the trip, and then, luggage gathered up, out into the wilds.
-------------------
I know my mum had a whole life before Canada, but it was once the Canada chapter started that I, and my siblings, make sense. Without Wendy making the bold choice to strike out at age 24 and cross the Atlantic away from her family, her friends, her normal way of life to maybe find something new.... well, would I be here? Who knows! Some things just happen. My siblings and I got the unusual privilege of growing up in one single house, with two loving parents who did their best, and once we were grown and gone, we still got to come back to that house because Jim and Wendy never saw fit to move out of the best house that ever was.
Cancer was not a choice for either of my parents. Some things just happen. How they chose to deal with their illness was, however, their choice. As I said above, mum showed us how success is not always defined simply by the outcome.
This is not merely an end-of-life-lesson that she blessed us with. It was a philosophy that she instilled in us as children, and presumably into the lives of every kid who had the privilege of being one of her students during her 35 years of teaching. We were always told by mum that as long as we tried hard, she would be proud, no matter the result.
It was a core of her values, and she lived it in every moment of her final days, weeks, and months. Mum, I told you before and I’ll say it again: You made us all so very proud in your attempt. Thank you for living your word.
You will be missed, mum. You ARE missed. Wide and deep.But we know you are reunited with dad, and your own mum and dad, and that you are without pain or suffering. For that, we are all so thankful. Before I sign off, I have one last story to tell--this will be a repeat for those at the service for mum. It takes place on New Year's Eve day, 2012.
Mum had a bad day. No food or drink, largely uncommunicative, confused when she was, pain ruling the day. I sat at her bedside. I asked 'can I hold your hand, mum?' No response. I took her hand, and as I did, said "I'm feeling really sad today, mum," and I started to cry. Mum, even in the state she was and all the while looking somewhere else, moved her other hand across her body and placed it on top of my hand. Truly, "The heart has eyes that the mind knows nothing about". (a favourite quote of mine). My mum, was there just then. On a day when I felt so little hope, she restored it in an instant. What a gift for me to remember. I picture you today, mum, doing what you and dad loved to do, nestled into deck chairs at a lakefront camp site, watching the sun go down, reflected in calm waters. Rest easy and keep the campfire glowing. If that is the piece of heaven you earned, where the streets of gold have given way to the gravel and smell of pine, all I can say is that's where you may well want to be, and you earned it. ------------------------ The following is a video played at mum's celebration service, watched by the family and the hundreds gathered to celebrate her life (we hope she wasn't put out by all the fuss).The re-posting of this video here is especially for the benefit of those of you who could not be at the service who may have wished you could, but as well it is for those of you who didn't even know my mum. There is no rhyme or reason to the placement of the pictures, it is as random as life itself. Watch it, and take a quick glimpse into the wonderful existence of Wendy Jacqueline Mansbridge Chase.
It was in the late afternoon on December
30th, 2006, a winter’s silvery sun coming in through a leaded glass
window. An impossible light on a cloudy day, but it was the the day I said ‘I
do’ to Kate which makes anything possible. That makes this year our seventh
anniversary. Ever heard of the theory of the Seven Year Itch?
For us, in the past seven years, there
have been no fewer than four major renovation sessions occurring in two different
houses. There has been one neurotic dog, and two lovely, irrepressible
irreplaceable children, not to mention several cousins, and more weddings. Five
(or maybe six?) strollers. Many Sundays singing hymns. A thousand family
dinners. Three degrees completed and/or conferred. Six vegetable gardens. Six seasons of raking leaves. One
Transatlantic trip, two sojourns to sunny southern climes (Hola, and might I add Aloha!), and a number
of other domestic flights. Lotsa drives to Kamloops. Numerous cross border jaunts.
Terrible sickness. Deaths, even. 2,190 days. 2,190 nights, many of them
sleepless thanks to aforementioned irrepressible children. One baptism (ps, we
need to get on that other one).Two cars, a few new sets of skis, and a cargo
bike. Nine job changes. Nine. Conferences, conference calls, board meetings.
Thousands and thousands of commuter hours. 84 power bills to pay. Just as many
telephone bills. Two high school reunions...and I could go on... and on... and
on...
Thankfully, there are the unquantifiable
moments: Any number of nights on the town (though amounts diminish greatly
post-baby arrival!), movies on the couch, walks and bike rides, opportunities
to hold hands. Discussions over wine or tea. crackling fires. Heated discussions
that required no extrinsic source of fire. Snowball fights. Stargazing
sessions. Tears shed, which you were there to catch, and I yours. Hugs and
kisses (probably in the neighbourhood of 2,190 a piece since there’s at least one of each a day). Upset, depression, heartache, want, wonder, joy and laughter.
There have been terrible, unforgettable
moments during our time as husband and wife. But moments is all they add up to.
There are bad days and tough times, but there is no such thing in my life as a
bad week, month or year. The parts are not the sum. It is all divisible by you,
and the equation always comes out as a positive.
Moments, good or bad, are never dull and
there is always you, always ‘us’, and my love grows with each tick on the
clock.
With all named above, and all unnamed yet
to come, I ask you:
Seven year itch?
Never heard of it.
I only know love, and family and all those things I signed up for and how thankful I am
for it.
No, seriously. It's epic. it's Heaven. No stifling heat, no sweater days. Just endless perfection. And we were taking advantage wherever possible. Blissfully, the front porch on our house has been restored and the back porch rebuilt. haven't eaten a dinner inside in weeks now. still lots to do outside of the house, speaking of renovations, but we're pretty settled indoors now. Here's where our back deck is at:
