A River Runs Through It

Before the late autumn rains start in the Pacific Northwest we wanted to take one more trip around our picturesque Fraser Valley. This time we decided to cross the new Golden Ears Bridge and drive east towards the small town of Mission. It was a beautiful autumn day, sunny and quite warm, and, because there hasn’t really been much rain, the leaves are particularly marvellous this year. Beautiful deep shades of orangey-brown, ruby red and bright lemony-yellow stand out against the multi-green hues of a variety of evergreens.

Once across the bridge we usually head toward the main Highway Nbr. 7 or the Lougheed Highway as it is known. It's one of B.C. major routes following along the banks of the Fraser from Maple Ridge to Agassiz and the Harrison Hot Springs turnoff. Continuing east from that point you would eventually join B.C. Highway 1 at Hope before heading into the Fraser Canyon. Or you could make it a circle trip by crossing the bridge between Mission and Abbotsford and travel back west towards Vancouver by the much faster four-lane Route 1. Wouldn't matter which way you turned at that point; it's all beautiful.

However we didn’t turn right on Highway 7; instead we continued north through the hills and dales of Maple Ridge until we arrived at one of the oldest by-ways in the Fraser Valley, the Dewdney Trunk Road; another east-west route which takes you through the foothills and backwoods and ends in the small town of Mission. But before we got there, we discovered Stave Lake and its waterfall which has been used for many years to create hydro-electricity. Below the dam we found the spot we were looking for. A favourite fishing hole of the locals.

To our delight there were multitudes of salmon spawning in the shallow waters. It was an exciting and beautiful sight to see these awesome creatures whose God-given instinct had helped them fight their way up the Fraser with its strong currents and into this rocky stream to end their days in the place they were born. The one sad note was the fishermen who can’t seem to leave these magnificent creatures alone even in their final death throes.

How anyone thinks that landing a fish that has hardly enough strength left to perform the duty he must if the species is to continue, can be considered sport is beyond me.
But even so, the golden autumn day the woodland setting and the mystery of the salmon’s annual ritual acted together to make it a wondrous and unforgettable day.
* * *

The "Eyes" Have It.

Last time I wrote about having some work done on my eyes. The healing process went fine but somewhere along the way I caught a nasty cold (not H1N1—I think anyone who lived through the terrible flu seasons of the 1950s may have built up a little immunity to that). But, bad enough to make life miserable for a few days. So I’ve been very lazy for the last week and a half, spending time in front of my fire, drinking the odd glass of red wine and catching up on some reading.

The eyes took a little longer to heal than I thought and looked pretty ghastly along the way. But now I’m very happy about them. They make me feel younger and my friends say they actually do make me look younger too. I never thought I’d resort to “plastic surgery” and I’m sure this is the end of it, but at this point I’m not sorry. Even my husband admitted the other day that they absolutely DO look better.

Warning: A friend of mine had the same proceedure and has had some trouble with the eyelids closing. So it's not as simple as I make it sound. My specialist had me sign a waiver which lets one know there can be problems. So like any surgery, weigh the pros and cons very carefully before you make up your own mind.

* * *

Now speaking about eyes—there’s a place in our beautiful Fraser Valley called Minter Gardens that is definitely a “sight for sore eyes” as the saying goes.

Two Sundays ago, on one of the last real summer-like days of the year, we made our way out to the eastern part of our scenic valley where the northern head of the Cascade Mountain Range begins. Here the gallant Fraser River ends its mad scramble through narrow canyons and gorges and starts a slow meander through the valley to the Pacific.

Centuries ago, a massive mountain slide swept over the area where the landscape begins to open up. Here, in an area overlooked by 7,000 foot Mt. Cheam, unique land formations left the area unsuitable for crop farming. But early settlers found it ideal for raising cattle and other animals. Tall native specimen trees added to the charm of the location, and thousands of wild geraniums, columbine, roses and bleeding hearts added a finishing touch.

As the Minter Garden’s brochure states, “It was this site that Brian and Faye Minter first saw on Christmas Day, 1977. The landscape was so unique, and the setting so picturesque, that an once-in-a-lifetime dream was born: to create one of the most beautiful gardens in the world! Their dream became reality in May of 1980.”

It took us about two hours to walk around the gardens which are striking in their beauty even in the cooler September weather. These gardens are ever evolving, and each season offers dramatic views of cool, quiet woodlands, gurgling brooks and waterfalls. There are beautiful topiary features, a rose garden and even a Japanese style garden.

Next spring will offer the blooms of over 100,000 tulip bulbs important from Holland. Then in April the rhododendrons begin their show of riotous colour amid huge cedar trees and rock wall terraces. The week after our visit, they closed for the winter. But they open again early in April, and if you’re planning a visit to B.C. during the spring and summer months, you really should include these gardens in your itinerary. It’s well worth the hour drive from downtown Vancouver and I promise, it’s is a feast for the eyes—sore or not.

An Eye Opening Experience

When we are still quite young, we are taught to respect gravity. It’s a matter of life and death really. The same gravity that keeps us safely anchored to this earth will bring about our death if we put it to the test by jumping off a tall building or a high cliff.

Sadly, about two-thirds the way through our lives, gravity begins to turn on us. Slowly, unless we work at it, everything begins to head south—our tummies droop as muscles relax; something called dewlaps form under our jaw line; and even “the girls” start sliding towards our waistline.

The face doesn’t get away scot free either. The nose tends to get bigger and grow down; and in some people, the top eyelid begins to droop giving a “hooded” affect to the eye. A matter of hereditary, I’m told. This can not only be a beauty problem but a visual one as well as the peripheral eyesight is affected.

So after many years of determinedly stating there would be no “nip and tuck” for me—I was just going to grow old gracefully—last week I gave in and opted for an upper eye lid lift or what is technically called a “Blepharoplasty.” The actual procedure is not hard to take. You go into a very cold operating room and lie on a couch while some type of lazar equipment is moved above your head. Prior to having me lie down, they made some black marks over the eyelids where they were going to cut. The doctor pinched up the excess skin so I could see how much more visual area I would have. It looked marvellous. I was sure it would help my driving as well as give me a more youthful appearance.

My blepharoplasty was performed under local anethesia which was inserted by a needle into the eye brow area. To be honest, that was the most painful part of the whole operation. I was told I could open or close my eyes as I felt like it; it wasn’t going to make a difference to them. There was a fairly bright light above though so I kept them closed most of the time although I was able to blink.

During the actual procedure, the surgeon makes incisions along the line creases of the upper eyelid and possibly along the outer lower rim of the eye's skin. Fatty tissue is removed but not skin. These incisions often reach the outer corners of the eyes; in my case in the left eye as it drooped more than the right. The surgeon then divides the fatty tissue and muscle from the skin so that excess skin, fat or muscle can be removed. It was all over in a little under an hour and the surgeon was so pleased he had a picture taken which he gave to me the next day when I went in for a checkup. It was all nicely done up in a folder with the date of the procedure along with the names of the specialist and the technician. Not unlike those you buy of your cruise ship experience. I had to laugh a little at that.

Well the proof they say is in the pudding, so I was very anxious for the week to go by to see the actual results. I’ll let you know next week...

This Could be a Joke but...

I want to thank Megan Bostic http://meganbostic.blogspot.com/ for nominating me for Kreativ Blogger Award. This is an honor. It's a way for bloggers to show other bloggers their appreciation and to promote each other.

Apparently there are a few rules that go along with getting this award.

1. Place the logo on the blog.
2. Link to the person who nominated the blog for this award.
3. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting.
4. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.
5. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
6. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated.

Here are 7 things you might find interesting about me.

1. I'm fairly good at public speaking but don't do it much anymore.
2. I was in all the drama competitions when I was in school--wanted to be an actress.
3. Physical education was the only course I ever failed and I still hate exercise.
4. I also hate talking on the phone. Avoid it like the plague. That's why I love e-mail but so far I don't text or tweet
5. I love the ocean and can't be away from it for too long.
6. I love red wine and wine tasting holidays.
7. I once shook hands with Britain's Prince Harry. He was still a little boy at the time.


I am working on my nominations for Kreativ Blogger:

Eye Surgery This Week

Had a small eye surgery on Friday. Things are looking pretty blurry right now so will "tell all" next week. Nothing serious--just a nip tuck thing. Well, they do say "vanity, thy name is woman." Guess they are right.

America On Guard for Thee

A dangerous looking pair.

I may at some time have mentioned that the Canadian U.S. border lies eight miles directly south of where I live, on what they call the Coast Meridian Road. It’s about a half hour drive for us so we often opt for a day in the “States.” There’s a lot to do in beautiful Washington State and Bellingham is only fifty miles down the highway. We like to go shopping, eat a nice lunch or dinner by the sea, or even just to fill up with good American gasoline that is always cheaper than ours. (Although we have the most available oil of any country in the world right now—but go figure.)

Even though that crossing directly south of us is the easiest to access we don’t usual take it. It’s the major entry point on Interstate 5 between the two countries and the line-ups can be horrendous. So the other day—a beautiful end-of-August day—we decided we wanted to look at the shops in Bellingham’s Bellis Fair Mall and have an excellent seafood dinner down by Bellingham Bay. We started out early to drive inland to the crossing at Lyndon, Washington which takes us through lovely farming country on either side of the border—a much less crowded route.

It was a Monday and surprisingly the line-ups were huge even way out there in the “sticks?” So it took us over an hour to get up to one of the Inspection Stations. Our passports were ready, we answered the usual questions about where were we off to and how long would we be in the States. But, imagine our surprise and dismay when the officer said, “I want you to drive into the bay over there for an inspection. Someone will go through your car so it will take some time. You’ll get your passports back when you’re finished.”

Now we are seniors and our faces will attest to over three score and some years of living and our fair share of sunshine. My husband is greying and I have silver white hair. We really don’t look all that suspicious nor do we look like we could be a threat to anyone. But those border guards are big and brawny and they carry guns, so you don’t really want to mess with them. And the sign says that if you disobey there can be a $250,000 fine and up to ten years in jail. We’re not even sure we have ten years left.

We meekly pulled into the bay and with some trepidation, entered the building. Again there are line-ups so the wait until an inspector came to talk to us took quite awhile. I imagine that, if you are carrying anything suspicious in your car, you would begin to sweat. In fact, the fellow in front of us looked very worried and when questioned admitted he had been arrested before. “Right here at the border,” he confessed.

I’m not the most patient person in the world and am apt to voice my feelings in a fairly loud voice about supposed injustices. Looking at the counter and watching some Hispanic people being fingered printed, I said to my husband in a loud whisper, “I’m absolutely NOT going to be fingered printed.”

Pointing again at the signs about jail, he motioned me to “hush up.” I know the look.

Finally our turn came. The inspector was Hispanic himself and gave me a reassuring smile. “This is just a random check, ma’m,” he comforted me. “You don’t have to worry. Have either of you ever been arrested?” Fortunately we never have been; we weren’t carrying guns or marijuana—neither of us has ever smoked a joint actually—and we didn’t even have any liquor in the trunk. We were totally clean. I don’t know if they were disappointed or not. After a thorough search of the car, they handed back our passports and we were soon again on our way south. Still time for window shopping and an early dinner at Bellingham’s beautiful harbour.

But I can tell all you American’s out there. Those border guards are doing their job. You are definitely safe from an invasion by Canadian senior citizens.

Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

Hi there followers:

I owe you an apology. I have been exceedingly lazy these last few weeks during our British Columbia heat wave and, on top of that, somehow I got myself involved with Authonomy.

Authonomy is, as those writer's among you know, the website put up by Harper Collins for new writers to showcase their work. For some time now, I've heard a few of my colleagues on Facebook talking about it and finally gave in to it's allure. So I have seven chapters of my book, "The Huguenot's Destiny" posted there now and, in order to keep it moving up the chart, you have to keep reading and commenting on other writer's books constantly. Then they return the favour. As one of my very observant and intelligent F/B friends tells us, it's mostly about "patting each other on the back."

Even though I'm beginning to understand the game, I did have a couple of very nice comments which I'm taking at face value. One, because he is a member of the modern-day Huguenot Church and he wants to read the entire book. (Which is not a religious book, by the way.) Another was by a New York magazine editor and his comments sounded genuine enough.

Unfortunately, no sooner did my book start climbing up the ladder, than the whole website went down. I also have a habit of "killing" most of the forum threads I have ventured on to. I really should put up a warning label.

So that's mostly what I've been up to for the past couple of weeks. But I will be carrying on with my travelblog on my trip to the Okanagan and particularly my visit to my old hometown of Summerland in a couple of weeks. Please stay tuned. And in the meantime, welcome to summer in my small garden.