family

The Okanagan Valley


It’s beautiful in the valley like something out of a Hollywood drama about the new rich and the wannabes who hanker after their wives and daughters, but it is stuffed like a California roll with people in search of a good life that doesn’t exist anymore and never really existed for most anyway.

To clarify, this has not been a vacation. Anything with family attached to it is not restful and is fun in only the most abstract of ways. There is always too much to do, and too many errands or odd jobs to take care of.  Elderly parents in particular are needy. There are things they cannot, or simply don’t do, on their own. They wait for opportunities like “vacations” to catch up on these things. For the past two years, all our trips have entailed duty. Our obligations as adult children took precedence over anything that we might have wanted to really do. We did manage to sneak in a couple of getaways, but they always felt rushed … because they were.

I have stated repeatedly that post this trip there will be a year long moratorium on vacations that include “family obligations”. We are going to rest and the family be damned. Anyone with the temerity to get sick, die or in any way need us does so at his or her peril.

We finally got a decent span of sleep Sunday night. It was not enough to right either of us, but I no longer feel like falling down. I am just a little light-headed and feel a tiny bit detached. Actually, I should say that I got a good night’s sleep. Rob was awake on and off waiting for a phone call or a text from ED, telling him that she and her sister had gotten back to Edmonton.

Despite reminding both the girls that he worried and wanted to hear from them that evening, neither of them called.

“They probably decided to stay over with Cee and Why (the newly married couple),” I said, trying to be reassuring.

It certainly made sense to me. Neither had gotten to bed much before 6AM Sunday and when we saw them before heading out, they were loopy from lack of sleep.

Around noon Rob broke down and called Cee, who was surprised to find out that Rob hadn’t known the girls had made plans to stay on a couple of extra days. Rob made his disappointment known to MK who passed it along to her older sister, who in turn sent a Facebook message trying to convince Rob that he had indeed been told about their plans. If he was then it was when I wasn’t around because I don’t recall that at all and I am the one who would have remembered it anyway.

I was always one to call my mom and let her know if I’d arrived safely. I still do that. My siblings never have and still don’t. People will scoff, but I think it’s a simple thing that requires nothing by way of effort, so I do it. That is just me.

The weather hasn’t been nice. Sunshine’s sporadic and it’s still quite chilly. We didn’t get outside much and Monday was eaten up with little things needing care and a futile trip to Apex Mountain only to discover the resort had closed for the season just the day before.

A highlight was our first sushi experience at a little place downtown. Rob was the only one who’d had sushi before and he walked us through the menu. The restaurant was just about empty as the ski season is over and the summer season hasn’t begun. Even BabyD managed to eat a bit of salmon which she liked more than the tuna. Mostly though she worked up an appetite trying to work out the chopsticks.

Our homeward journey begins tomorrow. Perhaps it will afford me a few more “vacation” like moments similar to the one of strolling Revelstoke in the hazy early morning or when Rob helped me work out the kink in my Night Dogs novel (I can finish it now) and helped me come up with the draft outline for a new idea (another novel with an “end of the world as we know it” feel and a strong female lead character). I can dream, can’t I?

I Can Live in a Small Town


I am writing this from my mother-in-law’s dining room table in Penticton, B.C. We arrived here, Rob, BabyD and I, around two in the afternoon on Sunday after another basically sleepless night in Revelstoke. The first night it was the snowboarding crowd and members of another wedding party that kept us up (I do not know whether or not Mr. Confidence was in either group*). Saturday night it was our party who basically ruled the disruption roost. At one point, I am told by MK, they were verbally assaulted by an irate young lady (don’t know if she was the one who fell under Mr. Confident’s spell the night before or not) who was told that since our party outnumbered hers, she was simply going to have to “deal”.

She dealt by phoning in a noise complaint.

I can attest to the fact that noise complaints to the local authorities in Revelstoke are not incredibly terrifying to those being reported on because the partying continued on and off until nearly 6 in the morning at which time, having been awake and annoying my husband for nearly a half hour, he said,

“Why don’t you go talk a walk.”

Which was as much for his benefit as mine. Truly.

Walking a mountain town in the early Sunday morning light is quite peaceful. The streets were deserted and the air not quite crisp. I had worked up a good head of steam by the time I had circled back to the motel. No one was stirring and the lights in our room were still out, so I headed out for another lap and to find coffee and tea.

The peace stems from the fact that nothing is open. This is not the U.S. There is really no such thing as a 24hr anything aside from gas stations, and even that can be hit and miss in the remote areas, but I eventually found a cafe in an old house on the end of Mackenzie Street that was open every day for breakfast and lunch. I secured coffee, tea and a cinnamon roll for Rob and BabyD to share before retracing my  steps.

As I had walked earlier though, I’d spent time pondering the idea of living in a place like Revelstoke. I like small towns. I like being able to walk everywhere and the mix of residential and small businesses. And I love the eclectic mishmash of shops and eateries and tourism mixed in with essentials, and the people who own and run them. There is something wonderfully communal about people who work and live amongst their neighbors who also make up their customer base, and it translates to the strangers who dwell briefly amongst them.

I can easily see myself in a little place and more and more I know I wouldn’t miss the “convenience” of living near or in an urban area. I don’t need to shop or have a lot of “things” to fill my life. I am happy with my husband, my daughters and my writing. And honestly, it seems to me anymore that the things people deem most important, beyond the people in their lives, are mostly consumer driven and based on instant gratification. And yeah, I have my vices, this internet blogging thing for example, but in the last two years I have come to prefer small, casual and things that are harder to come by.

Rob and I have been talking about this for a while now. How do we uproot and move to a smaller (even than the Fort) community and support ourselves? Every time I pass by an empty storefront, I wonder what service I could provide that is useful and people might appreciate enough to use?

The little café was for sale. I imagined us running it with ED running the kitchen and MK possibly running a coffee bar. Maybe Rob would be building or renovating homes in the area – sustainable living. MK would like that better. Possibly she would be learning the craft from/with him?

Later as we ate breakfast there, Rob and I discussed Lillooet again. It’s a tiny place up past Whistler. First Nation country that is trying to break out. Rob thought about running an adventure outfitters with his nephew, Cee, whose wedding we attended.

Dreams. But nothing outlandish really and certainly things that should be pondered. The old world (I am talking pre-crash) model was that children grew up and struck out in the world far away often and were able to take care of themselves. I don’t think that holds up anymore. I think we will see more families stick close and cultivate family ventures that will pass from one generation to the next, taking the employment and sustenance issue out of the hands of faceless “employers” and into their own hands.

Okay, I am rambling. Sorry, I am tired.

I will write, always, but I think about other possibilities – especially after early morning walks on sleepy small town streets.

*See Saturday’s post.

Meets Expectations


I went into this trip with minimum to non-existent expectations, and I will say that, so far, they have been met.

We got off to a late start. This is not unusual for us. As a matter of fact, the rule of thumb is take the estimated departure time and add two hours for exact time of departure. So I knew when I went to bed Thursday night that we wouldn’t be on the road by eight the next morning, and I was slightly surprised when we left about ten-ish because ED’s car was still in the shop (typical lack of parts on hand turned a couple of days into a week repair) and she was still waiting on it Friday morning. We offered her our other vehicle, but it is a “mom” mobile and she was reluctant. Taking our little truck would have complicated life a bit because the girls would have needed to drive out to our place, leave MK’s car and then reverse the process when they got back.

We were clearing the city – a good 45 minutes from our home – when Rob got a call from ED informing him that she had picked up her car but now MK’s wallet was missing and they were retracing her steps of the previous evening to find it. Failing that they would need to go to the bank to replace her debit card at the least.

The girls finally hit the road as we were eating lunch in Red Deer which was two hours ahead of where they were. An accident on the highway to Calgary forced us onto a smaller highway and Rob just gave up and slowed to a crawl to let the girls catch up. ED was not thrilled about navigating the mountain highway in the dark without dad in the lead. I didn’t blame her. The TransCanada through Rogers Pass is … challenging.

We got to the motel minutes before the night clerk was about to close the office. It was about 11PM Alberta time, but we gained an hour when we crossed into B.C. Still, Rob and I were exhausted. BabyD had slept fitfully in the back seat because I kept her tethered in the seatbelt. I might let her sleep without it on a regular stretch of road in a pinch, but not on the mountain roads.

Revelstoke is a magnet for skiers, snowboarders and people who snowmobile, a typically younger, heavy recreational drinking, smoking crowd. We checked in as they were filtering back from the pubs. You can’t smoke indoors anywhere in B.C. and as a result, people were out on the decks smoking and talking which made it difficult for us to open windows (the room heater was broken and the temperature was 30C-ish) and kept BabyD up for a good half-hour before she fell back to sleep.

Rob and I barely slept at all. Four hours would be my guess. At one point I lay there, sweltering, and listening to some dork try to seduce a drunken girl with his “extreme confidence”:

“I don’t want to brag,” I heard him say but knew that he was about to, “but I am extremely confident. I just am.”

“I can so tell,” little Miss Drunken Thang gushed.

And seriously, that was the conversation for a solid ten minutes until I closed the window – more to save my soul than my lungs from the ciggie smoke. Thankfully, she was either inebriated enough, or just that dumb, that he got her into his room and there was silence (which means he probably wasn’t as “good” as he was “confident”) for a good twenty minutes. Then I heard him asking her if she would like to use the shower first which pretty much sums the experience up for both – from my point of view. And yes, the walls are thin. I took pleasure in turning on the television for BabyD this morning at 7:30 AM. Enough satisfaction that it offset my complete exhaustion.

A bit after midnight, the Bride knocked at the door to tell Rob he was among the chosen to heli up to the mountaintop to witness the ceremony. It was a parents and aunts/uncles thing only beyond the wedding party itself which probably didn’t sit too well with the girls but I didn’t catch their reaction as they were downstairs in another room.

Rob hadn’t planned to go up. He didn’t think he was on that rarefied list but it makes sense that he was asked. He is Shelley’s stand-in. I am so glad that Will’s family and friends don’t see me as a proxy. I don’t think I could live long with that expectation on my shoulders.

So, it’s nearly eleven. Rob is either on his way down the mountain or being driven back to the motel. The girls are asleep because I gather there was drinking until wee-ish hours going on with the cousins and younger members of the wedding party. BabyD and I have walked about, found a bit of brekkie and are back in the room. It’s not raining. Knock wood. And I would like to explore a bit, but the child is too tired to keep up. I am tired too, but my idea of a vacation is not vehicle, room, more vehicle. It’s warmer here than at home and it would be nice to walk even if I can’t quite see straight.

Tonight will likely be a treat, but Rob says we are outta here early (plus two hours) and even better (knock wood again) weather awaits in Penticton.