Porcupines

 Here is an old post from a 2013 blog:

        What you are looking at is the business end of a porcupine.  I have only seen a few porcupines during the 40 years I have lived in Canada.  They are generally nocturnal, but do sometimes roam around during the day.

        I saw this one last Sunday along the logging road leading to the Goat River Trail.  By the time I got my camera out, it was already heading for the bush, so I was not able to get a shot of his face, but then again, its all these 30,000 spiny quills that make the porcupine interesting.

        I have heard lots of stories about porcupines and dogs.  The unfortunate canines that try to attack a porky, will soon have a face that looks like a pincushion and dog will have to unfortunately have all those quills pulled of his face, one by one, by someone using a pair of pliers.

        The other porcupine stories you hear are about what they eat. They crave sodium, which is found in salt and as a result, things like plywood ( the glue), sweat soaked handles of wooden tools, and tires seasoned with road salt become some of their favorite meals.  They chew big holes in plywood, and things like outhouses built in the bush have to have to be lined with metal around the base, to prevent the porcupines from eating the plywood.  

        Often, people camping or hiking and have left their vehicles parked overnight in the wilderness, have returned to their trucks to find that a porky has eaten it’s tires and brake lines, leaving them stranded and a long way from home.  People in the know often wrap their vehicles with wire fencing to keep the porcupines from doing damage.

        I have also heard that in places it is unlawful to kill porcupines.  Because they are slow moving, they are considered a good emergency food source for people lost in the bush.  I don’t know if this is true or not.  At any rate, the porcupine is another interesting critter that lives up here in the Robson Valley.

    

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Lucifer Is No More

     Sadly, Lucifer our longtime cat, died yesterday.  She had gotten extremely thin and weak.  Over the last couple of days her walking had gotten wobbly, then yesterday it got to the point where she could no longer stand up.  She had been spending the bulk of her last days laying outside in the grass, and not moving, although she always found the strength to bring herself back inside the house for the night.  Yesterday, I had to carry her in.  She died peacefully in her cozy bed.

    Lucifer was a rescue cat.  When she was young, I spotted her criss-crossing across Main Street in McBride.  She was one of several unowned cats living rough in an old structure behind the hardware store, until it was torn down.

    I brought her home to be a barn cat.  However, like the other “barn” cats we had had, once the cold of winter began, she ended up living in the house.

    Lucifer had a crotchety and unpredictable personality.  In those early days she couldn’t always be trusted to act civil.  I gave her the name Lucifer after trying to put her in a pet carrying case to take to the vet.   She shredded my hand with her claws and bit me to express her objection to the action.  Several times she attacked friends who had come over to visit us.

    However over the last few years, Lucifer mellowed to the point that she sought to sit on our laps so she could be petted.  

    Lucifer became a big part of our lives, and we will certainly miss her antics and having her around. 

You can view my paintings at: davidmarchant2.ca

A Baby Squirrel

 This is a blog posting from 2013:

        Yesterday at 5:30 in the morning, I got out of bed and walked down stairs to go to the bathroom.  As I was sitting there looking out of the open window, heard some “scritching” sounds coming from the cedar siding outside of the house.  I figured that it must be a mouse crawling up the wall.  I wondered if it would make it to the window, and I could see it.  Suddenly, I saw a shape move in the cornor of the window, but it wasn’t a mouse.

            It was a baby squirrel.  I hitched up my pants and grabbed my camera and went outside to investigate.  I don’t know where the baby squirrel had come from.  I couldn’t see the mother anywhere.  I took some photos, and even picked it up and put it over on the birch tree.

            Later in the morning when I was painting, my wife called to me and said the baby squirrel was in our house.  We had the screen door slightly cracked open, and the inquisitive baby squirrel had slipped passed the screen door and was in our mud room.  I grabbed it again, and this time it bit me on the thumb as I held it.  I took it outside, again put it on the birch tree.

            There are always so many mysteries that happen around here that never seemed to get solved.  I am still wondering what the back story of the baby squirrel was.  Hopefully, the poor little critter got its problems satisfactorily resolved.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Taking A Lie Detector Test

             My parents owned an acreage where our home was located.  On a corner of that land was a small house that my parents rented out.  Once when I was a freshman at university, living in my parent’s basement, they collected the rent from the small house and the cash was in an envelope, sitting on top of a chest of drawers in my mom and dad’s bedroom.

            One day when none of the family was home, my dad had a air conditioner repairman come to fix the ailing air conditioner in the bedroom.  Later it was discovered that the envelope full of rental money had disappeared.

            My father reported the robbery to the police and they sent a detective out to investigate.  When the detective found out that there was a long-haired teenage son living in the house, who do you supposed became suspect number one?   You guessed it, it was me.     

            The police wanted me to come down to the station to take a lie detector test.  I had, of course already told them I hadn’t taken the money, but they were skeptical.  I had seen lots of people taking lie detector test on TV shows and thought it might be an interesting experience, so I told them I would do it.

            I went to the police station and they sat me in a room and began to question me.  I told them again that I hadn’t taken the money and that I had never in my life felt any desire to steal anything.  I explained that if really needed money, I was sure that if I just ask my parents, they would give it too me.  I, of course, liked to have money, and worked to earn it, but I would never steal it.

            The police then rigged me up to the lie detector.  There was a strap that went around my chest, a blood pressure cuff that was wrapped around my upper arm, and small straps that went on the end of a couple of my fingers.

            They explained that I should just stay calm and not be excited.  They would just ask me some questions and I should answer them.  They told me that on the first question I should answer “Yes” even though that was not correct.  

            They ask me something like, “Is your name John Smith?”  I knew that I had to lie, but, I wanted to “beat” the machine, so I tried very hard to stay really calm and collected, and I answered matter-of-factly, “Yes”.

            The detective watched the needles swing across the rolling paper and said, “You are lying.” 

            I was pretty impressed with the accuracy of the lie detector, and then they began to question me in earnest.  

            “Is your name David Marchant?”

            “Yes”

            “Is David Marchant your name?”

            I replied excitedly, “You just asked me that.”

            That irritated the cop, who told me not to say anything except “Yes” or “No”.   He explained that all of the questions he asked, would be repeated in two different ways.

            My lie detector session continued and when it was completed, they confirmed that I had not lied, and was free to go.

            Having lost their main suspect, I am not sure what happened to the police investigation of the theft.  My parents never heard anything further from them and never got the rental money back.

            For me it was an interesting experience to take the lie detector test, “just like something you would see on television”.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Michelle & Stephane Return for a Concert Tonight

         Because these two talented musicians have returned to give a concert tonight, I have repeated a review I posted about the concert they gave us last year.

            I haven’t been to a sit-down music concert for years, but one of our jam members arranged to have some musician friends who were passing through, to do a performance in a spectacular local “barn” (the most beautiful “barn” I have ever seen).  Having never heard of Michelle and Stephane, I wasn’t expecting a whole lot, but from the duo’s very first song, I was blown away.

              Their vocal harmonies were solid, crisp, and tight, taking some unexpected turns in their amazing vocal range.  When Stephane’s fingers started streaking up and down the neck of his guitar, I sat in my chair with my mouth open, considering hanging up my guitar for good.  He was an amazing guitarist.  Michelle on her stand-up bass gave a solid floor to the rapid guitar runs.  

            Their music was more Modern Country-oriented than I was used to, but they did the songs so professionally and with so much energy, I was quickly converted.  They did do one song I was familiar with:  “Seven Bridges Road” (also known as “Southern Sky) a song where the Eagles’s show off their amazing vocal harmonies, ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U61bPI8K04s )  Michelle and Stephane nailed the song with just two voices. 

            The two live in a small town in Alberta and I don’t know how much time they spend touring, but I was sure happy they had come to McBride and that I got to see and hear them.

           The other great thing about the concert was being in Froese’s spectacular barn.  It was wonderful to sit there, listening to the toe-tapping music while looking out of the big barn open-air window beside the duo, onto the blue slopes of the Rocky Mountains.   It was a great way to spend a gentle spring evening.

            Below is a photo of Froese’s beautiful barn.  The concert was held on the second floor, with the top two windows open.

You can take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Another Memorable Jam Night

     It is getting so that I never know what to expect anymore when I go to our Tuesday Night Jam at the McBride Train Station.  Last night was another memorable event, not because of the music, but because for the first 40 minutes or so, there was now electricity.  The lobby was dark, but fortunately there was enough light shining through the windows in the back to illuminate things.  

    The lack of power did hamper those people who relied on amplifiers for their instruments to be heard, so we couldn’t hear the bass, electric guitar, or keyboard.  It didn’t effect me with my acoustic guitar and mandolin.   Once the power did finally come back on, our music got back to normal.

    The Robson Valley has been experiencing rain shower after rain shower, separated by periods of sunshine and blue skies.  Last night was no exception.  As we were taking the music stands and instruments into the station, a rainbow formed over McBride, as the sunshine was reflected by the falling rain.  It was a unique view of the Village, and we we stopped to watch and take some photos of the event.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Feeling A Fool, After A Misdiagnosis

     Two weekends ago, McBride held its Pioneer Days celebration.  Our Jam was set to play for a couple of hours.  In preparation for the performance, I loaded up my pickup truck with the music stands, mic stands, PA system, and instruments, to haul down to the park to set up.  

    Once I got everything loaded in the back of the truck and it was time for me to go, I climbed into the cab, and turned the ignition key to start the truck---NOTHING.  

    In a panic, I tried again, and again, and each time the results were the same: NOTHING.  The engine wouldn’t start or even turn over.

    I scrambled to get the car and took everything out of the truck and stuffed it all into the car, then drove down to McBride to set up.

    About a week before my failed attempt to start the truck, a friend had been telling me about a carpenter she had employed to do some work on her house.  When it was time for him to leave, his truck wouldn’t start, and it was the truck’s starter that had failed and had to be fixed.

      I hadn’t thought about broken starters for many decades.  Back when I was in university, I owned a MG that had a starter that was always unpredictable and problematic.

    After Pioneer Days was over, I tried several times to start the truck, but it failed each time.  The lights on the dashboard always came on, so I knew it wasn’t the truck battery, and then remembered Ingrid’s story about her carpenter, and decided that it must be my truck’s starter that was causing the problem.

    Yesterday, I decided to do something about getting my truck fixed.  I called a towing company to make arrangements to get my pickup towed down to a local garage to get a new starter.  I called the garage to make sure everything was set at their end.

    As I waited to hear that the tow truck was on its way,  I had a thought:   Maybe it was the sloppy transmission shift lever in my truck that was causing the problem.  It always seems pretty loose about getting into the right spot when I shift the gears.

    I got into the truck, which seemed to indicate that that the truck was in was in PARK, I tried to move the shift lever a bit more to the left, and sure enough, it moved a bit more to the left, where it clicked more solidly in place for PARK.  I then turned the ignition key, and sure enough, the truck engine immediately started.

    I felt a fool.  I quickly called the towing company and the garage to cancel all the appointments I had made.

    Looking back at the incident, I realized that it could have been  a lot worse.  I could have had my truck towed in to the garage, and then had the mechanic discover that the starter was fine, so I guess in the long run, while I was embarrassed, I was fortunate to discover the problem when I did.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca