Frank the Fiddler

I LIKE THAT Frank plays the violin and wanted to up his skill to that of a fiddle player. Frank the Fiddler has a ring to it. On August 11 we arrived at Windy Acres, seven kilometers west of Saskatoon and joined the collection of recreational vehicles parked on John Arcand’s property. John is the champion of this annual fiddle festival and welcomes all his guests personally. His lovely wife, Vicky, orchestrates all the events and is a kind person to talk with.

Frank parked our Classic Van beside a group of proud-to-be-Metis’ and we listened to the history between European settlers in Canada and the First Nations Peoples. We enjoyed the variety of gentle people at the festival and were proud of the young Canadians who attended the event simply to play the fiddle. For four days we attended all-day grandstand events including competitions among the new fiddlers and the seasoned regulars. The upbeat sounds coming from the many tents were a pleasure to my ears. The distinguishable scent of perogies and sausage filled the concession and we filled our bellies with a generous portion served by the upbeat volunteers.

On our last evening at the John Arcand Fiddle Fest we participated in a old-time dance. Frank has square-dancing experience and he guided me around the wooden floor. My smile went out to everyone and I knew I was in a truly happy place. 

www.johnarcandfiddlefest.com

Frank the Fiddler

Susan and Frank learn finger weaving

Entertainment everywhere you look

Classic Van on Windy Acres

Thompson Nicola Baha'i Summer School

I LIKE THAT we took the time to drop in on Ms. Marge Mitchell who lives in Barrier, BC. Unfortunately, she was not home but fortunately her daughter-in-law was there to tell us that Marge was attending the Thompson Nicola Baha’i Summer School at the ski resort in Clearwater. We decided that we would join friends at the event.

            The moment we arrived we picked up energy of friendliness and welcome. There were tents and recreational vehicles parked on the property and we placed our camping van among them. We entered the ski chalet and joined sixty-five others to listen to Judith and Michael Bopp share their topic on freedom from prejudice. Another speaker was David Bowe, who reminded us of participating in all Baha’i activities. There was uplifting news from Iran and John Sargent presented a video on Huququ’llah.

            Throughout the days, Frank and I mingled and met up with old friends and made new ones. I attended an art workshop hosted by Marge Mitchell while Frank attended a sing-a-long under a separate big top tent. We gathered for food and were entertained in the evening with a children’s sing-a-long, a youth play and adult singers, Frank among them.

            If you want to be refreshed in the summer, plan to attend the next Thompson Nicola Baha’i Summer School in August 2012.  www.bahaischools.org

“Knowledge is as wings to man’s life, and a ladder for his ascent.” Baha’u’llah

A gathering of spirits at a Baha'i school

Everyone is welcome to attend a Baha'i school

Mark Your Calendar

I LIKE THAT Friday, August 26 is Women’s Equality Day! Two extraordinary events will be happening that day. Women will be celebrated and my essay How Detachment Changes Everything will be launched with other stories in the book titled:

 THE MOMENT I KNEW

            My story was chosen among a league of female authors from around the world to be published by Sugati Publications. I’m a storywriter and a storyteller. I began writing when I was twelve years old to help unravel my feelings about my place in this world. My book, THE LITTLE RED BOOK TEACHING ESL IN CHINA, was published in 2008. My husband, Frank, provided the sketches. My story, Cowboys and Indians, won second prize at the 2010 Powell River Writer’s Conference. Currently, I am seeking a publisher for my finished manuscript. For that accomplishment I will be using a pseudonym.

            My stories come from my life so far. I’ve become more mindful of the things going on around me and have published a number of stories on this blog, I LIKE THAT. I’ve included some links that might be of interest to you.

            I will continue to update you on the publication extravaganza planned for the launch of The Moment I Knew.
Reflections From Women Book Launch Information
The Little Red Book Teaching ESL in China

I am a Writer

I am a Traveller

I am a Sister

What's Camping?

“What’s camping, Grandpa?” Grayson said.

“It’s being in the great outdoors and peeing in the bush, swatting bugs and cooking food outside and sitting in your tent when it rains,” Grandpa said.

“I peed on a tree before,” Grayson said.

“Well then, you’ll love camping,” Grandpa said.

            We picked up our four-year-old grandson and drove to China Creek Marina and Campground. We were thrilled to be the mentors for his first-time-ever camping experience. Frank had outfitted our 1986 Classic Toyota van with a platform in the back so that Grayson and I could sleep comfortably. He had also packed our tent so that he could sprawl out for our one-night camping expedition.

            When we arrived at China Creek we were disappointed at the sign – No Fires Permitted – posted throughout the property.

            “What’s camping without a fire?” Frank said.

When I told him later that day that I’d forgotten to bring along coffee for brewing the next morning, his comment was the same.

            “What’s camping without coffee?”

            Frank volunteered to unload the van while I took Grayson on a trek along the ocean shore and through the campsite trails. We explored rocks entangled in tree trunks, picked up rocks on the shore and tossed them into the ocean, and counted all the numbers posted on the trees to identify tent and recreational vehicle sites. When we arrived back to our Site 32, Frank was preparing the gas burning stove and choosing food items for our supper. We munched on cucumbers, salad, fruit, and turkey wieners wrapped cozily in buns slathered with relish and mustard.

A friendly squirrel came to visit and made several attempts to snatch Grayson’s granola bar that he had left on the picnic table. We were entertained for quite some time by the little critter and after he hid himself in his nest, we went to the playground.

            As evening approached, we changed into bedding clothes and snuggled in for the night. The next day was filled with more exploring, kite flying and cheering as Frank tossed his spectacular knife into tree stumps.

            “Grandma, let’s do this when Grandpa gets it right,” Grayson said.

He tossed his arms into the air and shouted, hooray!

            Camping is having fun.

Grayson and Grandma sing a camping song

Grayson and Grandpa fly a kite

Camping is fun!

Martyrdom of the Bab

I LIKE THAT friends gathered on July 9^th, on Quadra Island, to commemorate the martyrdom of the Bab. Our gracious hosts, Gwen, Michelle and Ben and their children, had prepared a groomed setting outdoors for us to sit in comfort. First, we ate a meal together. Next, we helped young Laura, sing a song in praise of the gathering. We shared prayers and listened to a clear explanation of the events that led to the tragic execution of the Bab. To have gathered in such a calm setting for such a respect-filled event was a great pleasure for us all.

            The journey to Quadra Island was an adventure also. It was the first time Frank and I had been on the ten-minute-ride ferry. We climbed the narrow stairway to topside and took in the wondrous panoramic view. The ship pulled away from the dock leaving a swirl of water in its wake. Our arrival at Quadra Island was smooth and we easily walked the eight hundred metres to our destination on Green Street.

            If you want to know more about the martyrdom of the Bab, you can visit a presentation on YouTube.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXoQ6EtTSbg

Ferry journey to Quadra Island

Quadra Island Ferry

Quadra Island

Collection of sun lovers

Brown's Bay Bike Trip

 I LIKE THAT we take excursions with our Russian URAL bike to explore our neighbourhood. On this day we headed out to Brown’s Bay, north of Campbell River, to have a picnic and fly our kites. We were met with a cozy place to unpack my red school bag and feast on fresh fruit and sandwiches but not enough space to fly our kites. No matter. A friendly seal paddled around the area and made eye contact with us. Boats were moored at the dock and fishers took to the water.
          On our way back to Highway 19A, a steep gravel road caught our attention. Frank motioned for us to take it and I responded with thumbs up. The URAL bike is meant to handle this type of trail especially when it’s kicked into two-wheel drive. Frank revved the motor and swooped up the road. The forty-degree grade was a challenge for the URAL and it felt like riding a bronking stallion. The thirteen kilometre excursion at that vertical wasn’t something I wanted to do further, so I tapped on Frank’s right leg, made a time-out motion with my hands and he stopped the bike. I climbed out of the sidecar and looked around at the scene.
           “Oh, wow! What’s all that?” I said.
          There were all kinds of things strewn on the gravel road behind us. As we walked closer we realized that our trunk had unlatched and all the contents had fallen out. Frank walked the eighty metres to gather our belongings. We packed the trunk, locked it securely and headed back down the trail.
          Our need to travel down hidden roads brought us to the Brown’s Bay 100 marker and we turned onto the overgrown, narrow road. We rode for two hundred metres and were stopped abruptly by logs lying across the path. We turned the bike around and headed on our way. We stopped one more time at the Ripple Rock Trail and went on a hike. I’ll tell you about that adventure another time.

Brown's Bay Picnic Area

Discovery Creek Excursion

Brown's Bay 100 Excursion

Chronic Liver Disease

I LIKE THAT my doctor is thorough and sent me to have an ultra-sound based on an irregular blood reading. Later that month, she directed me to an appointment with a liver specialist.

            “You’ve got Chronic Liver Disease as a result of a fatty liver,” the specialist said.

            I was shocked and scared but stayed focused as he explained what it meant.

            “It’s likely that you’ve had non-alcoholic fatty liver disease for sometime. Your liver changes when fat is deposited in it and also, in some cases, the liver resists insulin. You also have type 2 diabetes which is being controlled somewhat by your metformin medication. But what’s most critical is that you must lose another fourteen pounds in order to stabilize your liver and prevent further damage. Your liver is being overworked and is in the process of progressive destruction and regeneration. You need to pay close attention,” he said.

            I sat in silence trying to picture my liver in its place protected by my ribcage. I had an image in my mind of a large shriveled mushroom cap.

The specialist had more to say.

            “You must exercise more. Change it up. Get a bike, walk more, go to the pool more often. Lose weight.”

            I am ready to step it up by adding walking on those four days that I don’t go to the pool and floor exercise program at the Strathcona Community Centre. I’m a ‘Chronic’ and now need to be a fitness buff. Here are my current statistics:

Weight: 170 pounds

Chest: 40”

Waist: 40”

Umbilicus: 38”

Hips: 42.5”

Prayers for health.

Susan learns about her liver