Kite

I remember making kites, or as it were parental units making them for me when I was young. My position in all this kite making was regulated to making the tails long with bows. I always had visions of an enormous rombus with a delightfully painted scene of unicorns and fairies floating higher and higher, far and away to more imaginative places than Abbotsford, BC. However, the reality was somewhat less than stellar. I don't know that my kites were ever the right dimensions and never as large as I wanted to make them. My kites never had that unicorn, though once I managed to draw on a rather depressed looking brown mule on one. Fairies with their long tresses and delicate features were lost in the imperfect usage of crayons. They came out looking much more like Cousin It than Tinkerbell.

My obsession with finding the perfect kite must have started with Mary Poppins - the movie, like many children my age. I always wanted to go out to the park and like those around me, launch my kite into the air and watch it soar to unprecedented heights. All while Dick van Dyck's singing in the background and trying to sell those who need one, a kite. But, I never got a really nice one, I had cheap ones. Never that kind I used to see in the stores on the beach.

Then one year, my brother and I got kites. They were beautiful kites, both rainbow coloured, but different designs and perfectly balanced to fly high and far. My family and I used to go down to Birch Bay, Washington and on those windy days at the beach, we'd fly our kites. Down on the sandbars of the inlet when the tide was way out, we'd walk out and slowly with the sun on our backs come to shore with it. Nick, my brother, and I used to race to see who could get their kite up first, do the most tricks, fly the highest and longest. All the while trying not to scream and let go of the line when the other pelted you with seaweed or anything else that crawled by. My parents in particular enjoyed this activity of distraction and soon all four of us would be running around shouting and screaming.

I don't know why it was so satisfying to fly my kite but I enjoyed it. And, everytime a windy day comes along I think how nice it would be to go and fly a kite.


Let's go fly a kite
Up to the highest height
Let's go fly a kite and send it s-o-a-r-i-n-g!

Disco Diva

We celebrated a very good friend's birthday this weekend. Mish, as she has been known since I decided that her real name was too long, decided that we should dress up in 70's clothes and go disco bowling. Naturally, friends were excited to dress up and make a public spectacle. And, for a month I have been digging through the local thrift shops and closets of friends and family to retreive long lost tacky treasures of the past.

I couldn't decide if I should go flowerchild or Farrah Fawcett (Charlie's Angels). Then my mom informed me that I would need a shag haircut to make the feather look work. She suggested that I go as Jacyln Smith aka Kelly Garrett (Charlie's Angels) instead. I decided to take her advice and I looked pretty good too. Dark wavy hair (parted in the middle), cream eyeshadow, eyeliner and of course, bright red lipstick. My sparkly green blouse, blue poncho and tall leather boots fit the bill.

Mish looked fabulous as well, very Donna (That 70's Show). We straighten her curly red hair and poof* one auburn sleeked haired hot momma. We did her make up and she wore a black shirt striped with rainbow lines, rainbow toe socks and wood wedges. Mish looked sooooo good and sooooo different that people had a difficult time recognizing her.

We went to the bowling alley and had a couple of platters of finger foods and played some pool on the house. The alley had double booked our party and tried to compensate us accordingly. When we finally got to bowl, I am sad to say that I had my worst score ever and Mish Mash beat me. However, I did beat Mike...

Long Live the Disco Divas!

Anti - Valentine's Day

My girlfriends and I one year decided that we had had enough of Valentine's Day and all that goes with it. We instituted ANTI - VALENTINE'S DAY, a day that forbid anything and all that was pink or red. Black was the colour of choice and no one dared to wear anything lighter than dark brown. Make up was all black; eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. Hair was also to be suitablely dark, one girl with unfortunate curly red hair had to wear a black wig, her cover up was met with resounding cheers from all that attended our party.

That day we torn around the house and collected anything that had the unfavourable colour of pink or red and threw in into a big green garbage bag that we dragged behind us. Cards, flowers, chocolates and anything with a cherub and / or hearts was to be torn up and fed to the trashbin. We were ruthless, my favorite drink did not survive...

We wrote the names of guys we felt wronged us and burned the bits of paper in a little bonfire. Cheering as the pieces burned and ashes drifted skyward. And of course, men were strictly forbidden, except for one token male that agreed with us on the frivolousness of Valentine's Day. And, eventhough he jumped in, I think he wondered if he'd get out of the house unscathed and unharmed.

We dressed up, danced to music that had could not be in anyway shape or form construed as love songs and had one of the more notable parties of my recollection. All in the good fun of NOT spending a hundred bucks on a meal at a restaurant that would normally on any other day other than Feb. 14th, put you back forty. Or, for NOT buying twenty dollars of chocolate and a dozen roses at exorbitant prices all in the name of the Love.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I hate what Valentine's Day originally to stood for. I love the concept and think that St. Valentine did alot wonderful things. I also love the legends that became associated with his name. Things that should be emulated and repeated, but I do wonder at the sometimes insane amount of money that is spent on a 'holiday.' A day that has lost sight that St. Valentine was a highly regarded Bishop and (as legend has it) married young couples secretly when the Roman Emperor Claudius II placed a ban on Roman soldiers from marrying and just before Valentine was martyred he passed a note to his beloved which read, "From Your Valentine."

I like the concept of passing a note to your beloved saying I love you. I like all those trappings of expressing affection and appreciation for your loved ones. But, I think it would have more meaning if these tokens came on days throughout the year and not just on one day. I don't think you need the expensive gifts that seem to be required on this day. I say if you love, love everyday in all these ways, not just this one day.

Our Elders...

My grandpa lived a couple hours from my home, more interior BC. In a little home with a beautiful garden that was both large and peaceful. He spent many hours a day in it, tending to his vegetables and flowers. I don't know if I can remember him any happier than when he was showing us around his garden, wearing the Tilley hat that my mom had bought him.

I think his little home and beautiful garden was his little piece of Heaven on Earth. He felt most comfortable and at peace surrounded by that which he had created. Not disturbed unless by the seemingly endless stream of hummingbirds and bears that flocked to his doorstep, no doubt to enjoy the garden as well. He also had his family and friends dropping by to indulge in the gossip of news and to enjoy a cup of coffee.

My grandpa had his world and though we worried about him being on his own as he aged, he seemed happy and content. And, he was lucky in many respects, he had a large family that loved him (he always liked to be visited and telephoned) and a little piece of property on the reserve to call his own. Not to say that he led a charmed life, he had his share of difficulties and burdens to carry.

But others, our elders, on the reserve. Sometimes their situations aren't the greatest and some don't have family or family that don't visit, which is worse. They are occasionally preyed on by those in equally dire, but different circumstances. Bullied and pressured for money, they are like a lot of the older generation that are sometimes pushed aside and forgotten because their information is worn out and theirs is a time that's past.

The reason that I write this is because a very sweet old man, that used to come over to my grandpa's house and tell all the reserve news is dead. Worse than this is that foul play is suspected and another man has been arrested in connection to his death. I think one of the reasons his death affects me is that like me he suffered from a disability. I know even in part, what he had to deal with not only the physical barriers, but of society's stigma.

John* was always referred to with a smile and known by all. He was an old man who lived simply, except he liked to have a new car. He would drive around the reserve very slowly, blaring his pow wow music. And, EVERYONE knew that it was John driving by.

I don't know why this happened, I don't know of anyone that had anything against him. I just hope it wasn't anything to do with taking an old man's few pence. I do know this though, his was a difficult life, he was lovingly referred to and he always smiled at me.



* Name has been changed.

Peas in a pod

Just came across this picture and it reminded me of something...We HAVEN'T BEEN to PLAYLAND in over a Year! Must remedy this! You in?

PS. Don't we look cute? Mish, J'aime and Mike. Take five...