Oh, British Columbia.

The other evening, I hosted a book club at my house. There are ten of us in the book club, and we were all supposed to brainstorm ideas in the preceding weeks as to which book to read, and then decide together when we got there. To my surprise, several of my friends had "totally forgotten" about our plans when I called the day before. I offered to give them rides, arrange babysitting, or help them figure out work schedule changes so that they could come. I asked them to email me their choice for the next book if they couldn't be there that night, so that we could take their opinion into consideration. In the end, there were only four of us at my house that evening. Some of those who didn't show up offered their apologies.

Sorry, I'm just so tired today. 
I can't be bothered to figure out where your house is. 
There are too many books out there and none of them are true anyway. 
I'm sure you'll pick a good book anyways. 
My opinion doesn't really matter. 
It won't affect my life.

Those of us who showed up had thought about our choices. One friend was still deliberating up to the last minute, but made a choice right before we met. The four of us debated amongst ourselves and finally agreed on a biography of a tyrannical historical figure. It's a beast of a book, the kind of book that looks like it will take four years to slug through. I was unhappy with the choice, but at least I had raised my opinion and it had been considered.
The next day, the six friends who had not shown up to our meeting were notified of our choice. Two of them were so disillusioned that they promptly announced they were leaving our group. Apparently the choice didn't suit their values or priorities. If only they had communicated that when we were choosing. One friend actually said "Oh, was that meeting last night? I guess I missed it!" The other three stayed in the group, but complained about the choice that we made endlessly. The ironic thing is that they probably would have agreed with my book selection, or perhaps even a better selection. Pity they didn't show up or take the opportunity to send in their advance selection.

If you haven't guessed already, this is just an allegory. What are the chances that ten mommy friends would have time for a book club anyways? My friends are much nicer and more considerate than those make-believe friends too.

Our province, beautiful British Columbia, held a provincial election last night. We decided, not upon a book selection, but who will govern our province for the next four years. Guess what voter turnout was?

Fifty-two percent! 

Absolutely shameful. I'm bitterly disappointed with the outcome of the election. I'm exponentially more disappointed by voter apathy. Here is just a snapshot some things to consider when you think your right to vote doesn't matter. The following quotes are all taken from the Elections Canada website (www.elections.ca).

From 1867-1885, the following groups of people were not allowed to vote in British Columbia:

"Any person of Indian origin.
Any immigrant of Chinese origin.
Any person holding one of the following positions:
-employee of the customs department
-employee of the federal government responsible for collecting excise duties
-judge of the Supreme Court or a county court
-stipendiary magistrate
-police constable or police officer
Any employee of the federal government paid an annual salary (except postal employees).
Any employee of the provincial government paid an annual salary.
Any teacher paid by the government of the province.
Any person previously found guilty of treason, serious crimes or other offences, unless he had been pardoned or served his sentence."


"In 1920, only one province – British Columbia – discriminated against large numbers of potential voters on the basis of race. British Columbia excluded people of Japanese and Chinese origin, as well as "Hindus" – a description applied to anyone from the Indian subcontinent who was not of Anglo-Saxon origin, regardless of whether their religious affiliation was Hindu, Muslim, Sikh or any other."

"British Columbia had a long history of such discrimination: when it entered Confederation, 61.7 percent of the province's population was of First Nations or Chinese origin, while people of British origin accounted for 29.6 percent of residents. Under successive provincial governments, measures excluding First Nations people and people of Asian ancestry from the franchise were extended as immigration increased toward the end of the nineteenth century."

"Denial of the franchise had far-reaching implications, because provincial law also required that pharmacists, lawyers, and provincial and municipal civil servants be registered on the voters lists. As a result, Canadians of Japanese and Chinese origin were barred from these professions and from contracting with local governments, which had the same requirement."


"Several religious groups were disenfranchised by the War-time Elections Act of 1917, mainly because they opposed military service. Most prominent among them were the Mennonites and the Doukhobors. This disenfranchisement ended with the end of the First World War, but the treatment later accorded the two groups in the development of the franchise varied enormously."

"First Nations people in most parts of Canada had the right to vote from Confederation on – but only if they gave up their status through a process defined in the Indian Act and known as "enfranchisement." Quite understandably, very few were willing to do this."

"By 1960, when all Status Indians were finally granted the unconditional right to vote, disqualifications on racial and religious grounds had been eliminated altogether. At the same time, legislative and administrative change was making it possible for more and more Canadians to exercise their right to vote in various ways."

From The Native Voice, July 1949.
Link to original source

Women in British Columbia only won the right to vote in April, 1917. The above quotes don't even address the more complicated land-owning requirements that were in place in various forms during our elections history. Can you imagine if only land-owners in Vancouver were eligible to vote?

link to source

Perhaps for the next election, we should change electoral law to only allow a small group of people to vote, based on a ridiculous set of criteria. Only people who have green eyes, or live in purple houses, or hail from towns of less than 2,000 people would be allowed to vote. Perhaps, at the following vote, people would understand that their opportunity to vote is a sacred responsibility; a road to equality in the electoral process paved by the toil of countless people before us.

On any given election day, there is a small percentage of people who will have a valid reason, in my opinion, not to vote. Perhaps you or somebody in your family dies or has a medical emergency, or...actually, I can't think of any other reason. Get informed, make a decision, and vote! Engage your friends, neighbours, and family in the issues and let your voice be heard. I guess I should have written this yesterday, but I mistakenly had faith that after twelve years of disregard for the environment, ethnic groups, and public services, the voting population was as eager as I was to make their voices count.

A democracy (or, technically, a constitutional monarchy) is a terrible thing to waste. Your vote is a terribly powerful thing to waste, much more so than a book club book selection.

The Tulip Girl

Four and a half is special. It's full of spunk, sensitivity, sweetness, and imagination. Sometimes, I worry about five, about kindergarten changing my firstborn. Then I remember that praying does wonders compared to worrying. Worrying is such a waste of time, but when you are a parent, trying not to worry is kind of like trying not to blink your eyes. Ever.

A couple of days ago, the boys and I were walking around downtown (downtown of our suburb, not Vancouver proper) and O spotted a girl about his age standing by the tulips in the town square. Her mom was on her cell phone, pushing a stroller, and so O sidled up next to her and said "Hi! Would you like to be my new friend?" I wasn't surprised because that is what he says to most new kids he meets, even though we've told him that he can just say hi and start playing. As cute as it is to hear him say that, I've seen him be rejected or ignored with the ensuing tears too many times. I figure it's better not to give the other kid the opportunity to say "No, I don't want to be your friend"!

I wanted to keep walking to get home for lunch before T had a hunger meltdown, so I called O to come along. He scooted back over to my side with a pout and said, barely audible, "But I love her." I stopped walking because I thought surely I must have misheard him. When I asked him what he had said, he looked up at me and said "But I fell in love with her, Mommy." It was very matter of fact, and he looked back at the little girl, who was starting to catch up to us on the sidewalk with her entourage. It was all I could do not to laugh, and I pulled our stroller out of the way and let them pass. I might have had a very disappointed, lovelorn little four and a half year old on my hands, but luckily we then heard a familiar voice call out "Hey, there's my family!" It was the boy I fell in love with and married; my husband just happened to be walking down the sidewalk with a group of students from his youth group. It was perfect timing to mend O's little heart and he was silly and happy again.

One day though, I hope he falls in love for real, and has that love returned, albeit hopefully not as quickly as with tulip girl! Is it wrong that I made him promise to call me every day? I'd even settle for once a week. Today, out of the blue, O said to his brother "T, when you grow up and live with your new family, can I come and visit you?" Even though I'm pretty sure T had no idea what O was saying, he had an uncharacteristically serious look on his face when he said yes. Hooray for establishing lifelong family ties. Or maybe passing anxiety about the future onto my kids? I missed that section in the parenting manual.

We couldn't resist this abandoned lot full of "blowing flowers." I'm sure the neighbours loved us for releasing trillions of dandelion seeds into their yards. Hmm...I think we'll take a different route home for the next few days until they forget our faces!

Camping in B.C., Part I

In the past week, we've tasted the first delicious offerings of summer. I know that summer is yet another month and a bit away, but in Vancouver, the first truly warm day of the year is like an appetizer for what is surely to come: the sumptuous main course that is summer in Vancouver. I finally trudged my box of shorts and capris that had been sitting in a corner in my bedroom for the past number of months into the crawlspace only about six weeks ago, thinking that summer was still a ways off, and I didn't even begrudge crawling in there again to retrieve them last week.

This warm spell has me anticipating our annual camping trip. As great as the Vancouver area is in the summer, there is a whole beautiful province to explore. Our pick this year is Bear Creek Provincial Park just outside of Kelowna. We somehow lucked out getting a spot there. My husband and I were both on our computers at 6:50 a.m. and counting down the seconds until the reservation system opened online. Within five seconds, all the spots were taken. We've never been to this campground before, but it comes highly recommended from friends who have. I like the fact that there doesn't seem to be a day-use parking lot, so I'm hoping that the beach area will be less busy than parks that also accommodate non-campers. Sure, I teach my kids to share, but...I don't like to share my campground.

If you are looking to go camping this year because like us, you can't afford a "real" vacation you love the great outdoors, here are some of the places in B.C. that we have camped in recent years. We camp almost exclusively at the provincial parks because we're exclusive like that. Actually, we tried private campgrounds a couple of times, once in Oliver, and once in Osoyoos, and were astonished at the small footprint of space on a grass field that was supposed to be our camping spot. In my humble opinion, provincial campgrounds provide much more value for your vacation dollar, even though we campers all  reminisce about the days when $6 per night fees and free firewood were the norm. Most campgrounds now range between $15 to $30 a night. Bring your own firewood if you don't have a mini-van packed full of essential kid-equipment, or be prepared to pay for wood.

1. Kettle River Provincial Park
This is definitely one of our top picks. The scent of Ponderosa pine trees, the sound of the river while you are drifting off to sleep, and the occasional deer ambling through the park are some of my favourite highlights. Nestled in the town of Rock Creek, it is about a half-hour drive east of Osoyoos. I just about cried for joy when I discovered the newly built shower building last year, as it was the only thing really lacking here.

The best part about this campground is, of course, the river. Before we had kids, we would spend hours floating down the river together on air mattresses. The river curves around the campground so that there is only about a ten minute walk on either side of float down the river. In past years, the river was very calm and it took about two or three hours to float down. Last year, the river was so high and fast that it took only about twenty minutes! It was too dangerous to let the kids float down, which is part of the reason why we chose a different campground this year without a rushing river!

The trees kind of make me hungry. They always remind me of giant, cinnamon and brown sugar crusted breadsticks.

One of the old train bridges that is now part of the Kettle River bike trail.

These things remind me of the Muppets for some reason.

View from the train bridge.

2. Monck Provincial Park

About 22 km North of Merritt, Monck Provincial Park was the other stop on our camping trip last summer. Some highlights were the Forestry services helicopter landing and visit from Smokey the Bear, and the oodles of Eagles and Osprey in the trees. The campground is set on the shore of Nicola Lake, which was nice enough for swimming and such if you are interested in such things. It had an older, but decent playground for kids.

3. E.C. Manning Provincial Park, Lightning Lakes

My numerous camping stays at Lighting Lakes in Manning Park have been feasts of natural beauty for the senses. It gets very cold here, even in the middle of summer, but the spectacular scenery is worth the sacrifice of summer heat. 

What do you call baby loons? Cute.

Woody Woodpecker

Across the highway from the campground is a winding road up to an amazing alpine hike and breathtaking lookout points.

4. Haynes Point

As the only provincial park campground in the summer playground of Osoyoos, Haynes Point is probably one of the most coveted campgrounds in BC. It takes some serious mouse-clicking skill or good luck to get a reservation here. We have only been lucky enough to stay here once, although, come to think of it, we only tried once. I guess we just have good luck! The thing that I remember most about this place was that we spent over two hours stringing up tarps for shade, and setting up our new tent-gazebo-thing over the picnic table, and about five minutes cutting the tarps down that night in the middle of a wild wind storm. The tarp would fly higher than the tree tops and then come crashing down on top of the tent. I remember waking up a few times having to push the tent up off of our faces because it was bending so hard from the wind. The next day was sweltering hot without the shade of our downed tarps by ten in the morning.

The wild wind can probably be attributed to the fact that the campground is a small peninsula jutting out right into the middle of the lake. The biggest draw for this campground is just the fact that it is in Osoyoos, which has some fun amenities, and...it's Wine country. I actually don't even like wine, but that sounded kind of grown-up, like something they would say on a travel segment on the news, right?

One of the only shots from our stay there. I was afraid the wind would blow the camera away, I suppose.

This lookout over Osoyoos wows me every time. I think Haynes Point is just to the left of hubby's shoulders.

Stay tuned for part two of my camping reviews! You might just give up being this person:

The Life of Carpet

I subscribe to a page called "Vancouver - Then" on Facebook, which regularly posts photographs of our fair city from days gone by.  This photograph of a swimwear fashion show at the Vancouver Hudson's Bay Co. in 1932 caught my eye the other day, not just because post-baby me would be so excited to buy a bathing suit like those ones, instead of the bare-all suits that are ubiquitous now, but because of the carpet on the floor (not the carpet on the catwalk).

I grew up in the house where my Mom grew up, and where my parents still live. My parents bought the house from my grandparents the year my parents were married, and my grandparents and uncle, who also got married that summer, both built new houses right next door. I recall being told that the carpet in our basement came from a department store in downtown Vancouver that was getting rid of it. My great-uncle worked there, and thriftiness must run pretty far back in the family because he scooped it up for my grandmother, his sister.  I checked the high-resolution photograph in the Vancouver archives, and, sure enough, it is the exact carpet we had in our basement.

Here is is in my mom's early days:

And, from my childhood days, you can see a bit of the carpet peeking out underneath the piano. This is my "saying goodbye to the piano" picture. My parents saved up to buy a brand new, beautiful piano for us, but I was terribly attached to our old ugly piano, and cried pitifully for days about having to give it away. Sidenote: I am also rocking the early 80's plaid fad in this photo.

The best thing about this carpet was that it was virtually indestructible. Both my mom and I remember ice skating on this carpet as kids.  It was fireproof, so we didn't need to put any tiles around the fireplace either.

The carpet, which had seen sale crowds, swimsuit fashion shows, ice skating children, and teenage sleepovers was finally laid to rest in the mid-nineties when my parents finished the basement. A life well lived...for carpet.

DIY Chalkboard Project

Last month, I attempted to take a break from thrift store shopping for a month.  I can't remember what motivated me to try, and I don't recall whether the point was to stop going altogether, or just to stop buying stuff.  Failure ensued on both counts in any case.  A new thrift store opened up in walking distance from my house a couple of weeks ago, so can you really blame me?   I'm getting better at passing up good deals that I don't really need, but sometimes I feel like Ariel in her treasure trove:

I've got gadgets and gizmos aplenty, I've got whozits and whatzits galore.
You want thingamabobs, I got twenty.  But who cares, no big deal, I want more
picture credit

   Realistically, who can resist at least perusing such an interesting assortment of items?

A Winston Churchill bust, anyone?
Status: not purchased by me

This would add some flair to your living room wall.
Status: not purchased by me

Priceless (well, actually, it was $5.99)
Status: not purchased by me

I actually bought this book.  I had a strawberry shortcake recipe book as a kid that I absolutely loved, 

so I thought my kids might like a recipe book too.  And the title is just too awesome to ignore.  Yes, I am that immature, but you just laughed a little too, didn't you.

I also brought home this gem of a globe.  It has a nine inch diameter instead of the standard twelve, which makes it a perfect size for my built-in wall unit.  I had major childhood flashbacks when I saw the original price tag from Woolco on the bottom.  Remember that place before Wal-Mart came and took over (the world)?

As for the real pièce de résistance, I found this amazing wood picture frame for $9.99.  I actually had to stop a couple of people from buying it out from under me when I had put it under reserve at the front counter while I finished shopping.

It's over four feet long and two feet wide!  It didn't have a backing or glass, but that was fine for the plans that I had for it: a framed chalkboard.

I waffled between leaving the original paint job and painting it white, and decided to give it a whitewash in the end.  Since spraypainting indoors is kind of a deathtrap, and I don't have a big enough yard to do it outdoors, I decided to paint it by hand with a good old-fashioned brush job.  I think I actually preferred this to spray paint in the end because it was so much easier to remedy any drips that formed.  It took one coat of primer and two or three coats of paint to transform it into this:

I bought a piece of high density fibreboard at the hardware store and had it cut to size to fit into the frame where the glass must have originally sat.  I originally wanted to use regular wood as a backing, but it would have made the picture much too heavy, and it was also pretty pricey.  

Chalkboard paint is also not cheap.  I am; therein lay the problem.  I didn't want to buy a full gallon of chalkboard paint that I would probably only use a smidgen of.  I discovered that some people have had success creating their own chalkboard paint by mixing unsanded tile grout with regular latex paint.  My parents happened to have some sitting in their shed, and I have plenty of leftover paint in the garage.  However, my sister apprised me of the health hazards of breathing in any particles of tile grout, and I decided to keep searching for another option.  Americana has a clear coating to transform any paint into chalkboard paint, but I couldn't find it, so I settled on Martha Stewart chalkboard acrylic paint.  It's available in a smaller bottle than a gallon at the paint store, comes in a few different colours (I chose the gray), and the trusty Michael's 40% off coupon makes it quite affordable at $4 to $5 a bottle.  I only used about half of the bottle for this project.  I gave the HDF a coat of primer, and then two coats of chalkboard paint, glued it to the frame with the help of some gorilla wood glue and heavy books to weigh it down overnight.

Aside from some glue streaks on the paint where I tried to wipe off the excess, it was a success.  

This is a picture of the board after "seasoning" it by rubbing chalk all over.  And, voilà, here is the finished product!  

My O. loves learning his Bible memory verses on the board.  Here they are during a rare play-dough play session.  I am one of those parents who practically keeps play-dough under lock and key because it is such a darn mess to clean up afterwards.  I justify it by the fact that the rarity of the play-dough times makes them extra fun and lengthy when they do get to play!