The Day in Pictures

Scrabble

I've been meaning to see if Eddy can still play scrabble. Despite his dementia and perceptive inconsistencies he has retained his large vocabulary and his ability to spell in English and French. He is good at crossword puzzles as long as he is only required to answer the questions and not have to read and fill in the tiny squares. His motor skills can be erratic or non existent. Sometimes he just forgets he meant to move. We got the board set up, Pearl determined who would go first and we set up the play order. Me first, then Pearl, then Eddy. Pearl designated me the score keeper. The game went like this; Pearl and I would take our turns then Eddy's turn would come, one of us would ask him if he had a word to play, he would look at the board and start to de-construct what was there, seige became neige, sail became mail. He could see some words in his tiles but could not link them to the board. Pearl and I took turns taking his turn for him, double checking with him the spelling of the word.

A game of scrabble can last a pretty long time. Mark mowed the whole lawn and did some trimming while we soldiered on. I started cooking dinner and Pearl wrote down a few scores. By the end Eddy was listing a bit, his blood sugar was low and he was really struggling to make sense of the game. His eyes looked watery. We had completely pooped him out. I can't remember who won, we all ended up with a few extra tiles, rogue consonants defying placement.

_

Safe Passage 03

The Bank

Before we leave the island for the last time we make a stop at the bank. It's not open yet and we have a ferry to catch so I ask them to let us in. One of the women in the bank recognizes you and unlocks the door. We conduct your business in chairs at her desk, you are too weak to stand at the counter. When you look at me you seem small in your clothes, you're trying to communicate something to me with your eyes, it feels like you are saying I need you to take the wheel now. The woman from the bank suggest some things regarding your accounts that might make it easier for me to manage your money. She realizes you are sick and not getting better, I am trying not to think about it, staying firmly in each moment. We empty out your safe deposit box and I sit patiently while you sign your Canada Savings Bonds over to cash. Your signature is weak and uncharacteristic of your former self.

_

May Contain References to Shit

The creative process can be like taking a massive crap. You eat information and emotional intention, the fiber of your being. Sometimes this happens over months or even years (in my case years). You process it all diligently. Creating a palatable form, observing reasonable parameters, you choose color, cadence, words and images. Time passes. Sometimes quickly, mostly not. And then, often when you least expect it, you get this uncomfortable albeit familiar feeling, an undeniable need to evacuate all of it, out of yourself and into the public domain. Hoping like hell, it looks more like what you intended than a pile of actual shit.

–

Safe Passage 02

Do you remember the day that you died?

I do. It was late winter and we drove from your place on Quadra Island to Nainamo where we boarded the ferry for Tsawassen. I crawled into bed with you that morning seeing you were suddenly much weaker and more distant. I laid behind you and hugged your whole body with mine. I said, I don't want you to die. It was the only time during those last six weeks that I acknowledged you were slipping away. You said you weren't dying and I helped you get up and go to the bathroom. I gave you yogurt for breakfast, you ate it on the couch and spilled a bit on your cotton turtleneck. I can't remember what happened to that shirt, it went away with you and the yogurt stain never to be seen again.

Safe Passage 01

For All You Design Geeks Out There

This is fun.

http://fontgame.ilovetypography.com/hall-of-fame/

Oh the humiliation

We celebrated the 4th on the 5th this year. I was totally organized and had picked up some fireworks from the local Lions who sell them in the Everson Market parking lot from a plywood hut. I bought them there last year too and was trying to avoid the same fate. We foolishly bought a "Family Friendly" pack and were really disappointed. Too few explosions, no reports, too many sparklers, too much smoke, not enough bang. This year when I went to buy the arsenal I looked at everything pretty closely and settled on the "Big Value Bag" ($21.98), this maybe where I went wrong. The words Value and Fireworks should not be used in the same sentence. There is no value inherent in Fireworks, you might as well be burning money. That being said we want some bang for our buck, no such luck.

Mark lit the first firework. It was an impressive package, thick column, felt heavy, lots of black powder I thought. As it started to ignite we waited expectantly and watched patiently as the thing spit up showers of sparks. No explosions, no whistles. We felt let down. We moved on and piece after piece shot sparks and little else.

Apparently I did not get the militia pak as I had wanted and instead got the super lame, extremely safe for amputees, shower pak. One of the pieces was actually named "Golden Showers". I believe I experienced the shame and humiliation one might feel during a real golden shower. Ultimately what saved me were the sparklers and Bees. Mark made a good show of them for Pearl and we all agreed that next year we would send Mark to the Res with at least $50 to get the loot. I tried, hopefully the gang will forgive me.

Decade

Mark, Pearl and the Whales enjoy a dip in Centennial Pool

It is a tad rainy today but for 6 days previous to today it has been absolutely, top-shelf summer fun. I do hate to go on about the good time I am having, but what else do I have to talk about? I am all out of misery. Can't muster a grumble, a snear, not even a little pout.

It started last Saturday with a little sail in Mark's boat up at Jericho Beach in Vancouver. The wind was consistent and we happily tacked back and forth in the bay. At one point we were out pacing a wind-surfer which pleased Mark tremendously. After retrieving Luna from the dog day care we ended up at Moderne Burger for some restorative protein. This place makes a great burger platter and has been closed due to renovations for the past 18 months. We had a serious jones.

Tuesday found us celebrating Canada Day with a parade that came conveniently close to the townhouse. We were at the end of the parade route and all the floats got backed up in front of us. It was cool at first seeing the displays up close but it soon became awkward, we had to keep waving to the the now stationary patriots.

It was really nice and hot. Pearl ran wild in the complex play area and mid afternoon we hit the local outdoor pool. I think Canada may be a more civilized country because of the easy access to parks and facilities. The Centennial Pool was recently widened and spiffed up. We all took turns on the rope swing. That was a personal reminder that I am a sad, weak-armed softy. I can't really make out the form my body took as it skidded along the surface of the pool before crashing in, hippo comes to mind. I am trying not to think about it. Pearl was graceful going in. Mark made us all laugh by employing some small plastic whales as flotation devices clenched in his freakishly long toes.

Finished the catalog and am now embarking on a web project and new Coupon Book cover. Samuels sign is in the process of going up. I am continuing to feel light and open, ideas around every corner.

Pearl turns the BIG 1-0 shortly. Big pause here as I try to organize my thoughts to say something really profound (feel free to get up and refresh your drink) but ultimately it changes everyday and I am just getting better at how I react to the ebb and flow. She's a really nice human being and I am trying to do her justice.