Both photos were taken from the balcony, but thirty minutes apart. They show how the lighting had changed during that lapse of time.
Last night at square dancing, I learned that Highway 16 had been closed for most of the afternoon because there was an accident with a semi by Goat River that left the freight truck sideways across the highway, blocking it. I don’t know if there were any injuries.
It had been a month or so since I last used my snowblower this winter, but fortunately, it started right up and allowed me to clear my driveway. I was happy to have the snowblower today because this snowfall is a damp, heavy one, not like the light powdery snow we usually get. It would have been a lot of work to shovel it. The snow is still falling day, but now that I have the driveway cleared, it should not present a problem.
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The long drive to “PG” with all of its curves and hills, through the mountains (not to mention the unexpected wildlife on the highway) is long, but tolerable during the summer, but during the winter months, the drive can become very dangerous. We have known people who were killed and crippled in accidents while making the drive to Prince George, during the winter.
White-outs caused by blowing snow and passing big trucks, icy road conditions, and thick snow accumulations all make for a long, slow, white-knuckle drive. Winter also means shorter days, and driving in the dark with today’s ultra-bright oncoming headlights blinding you, means we try to avoid having to go to PG during the winter, if we can.
We had a long set optometrist appointment in Prince George tomorrow, but today’s and tomorrow’s weather forecast shows periods of snow, so I just called and cancelled tomorrow’s appointment because of the predicted snow. Fortunately, the medical and dental facilities understand the regional weather, and don’t make a big deal about cancelations for people who live outside of Prince George.
The only downside to canceling an appointment, is that it often means another long wait until our next one. Our next optometrist appointment is not set for the middle of July. At least in July, the driving conditions will be a lot safer.
While it is troubling that paperbacks will be disappearing, I guess I am part of the problem. Although I read a lot of paperbacks, I have not actually bought one in a decade. Most of paperbacks that I read are used, and recycled paperbacks. One of the major benefits with used paperbacks is that here in the Robson Valley, we have several sources where I can get the the books for free. There is a shed at the dump, where people donate and recycle their books, same thing happens at the train station, and our library often has discarded books, for a donation.
I had to hunt around for some paperbacks for the photo above. After reading most paperbacks I turn them in for others to read. The paperbacks shown are all ones that I enjoyed so much that I wanted to keep them for a second reading.
I have also recently read that the reading of all books has fallen 40% in the last 20 years. It seems that people are just not reading books anymore, preferring instead to spend their time browsing on the internet. This is particularly true with young people. Because of their internet habit, their attention span is so short and in need of so much generated excitement, that they no longer have the patience to read a whole book. In an interview by Katty Kay with author John Grisham, both admitted that they have paid their grandchildren to read whole books.
I gotten so much enjoyment in reading books over the years, and it makes me sad that so many others are missing out on something that can give a person so much satisfaction and understanding.
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During that time, there was, what has now been called the “Folk Revival” that was popular with a segment of the young generation, particularly university students. Even though I was in high school, I caught the folk bug, watching “Hootenanny,” a weekly TV show that was on Saturday Nights. The show featured folk music concerts filmed at universities, featuring a wide spectrum of folk singing groups and individuals.
The music really connected with me and inspired me to order a banjo from the Sears catalogue. I didn’t know a lot about banjos, but I loved the sound, energy, and fast finger picking of the instrument. When I got it and taught myself some chords, I continued to watch banjo players when they appeared on the show, and to my dismay, I realized that I had bought a four string banjo, not a five string banjo, which was the type used for finger picking. Five string banjos have the fifth string attached halfway up the neck.
Luckily, in the back of a folk music magazine, I saw an ad for a five string banjo neck, so I ordered it, removed the neck from my banjo and installed it, making my instrument a five string banjo.
Our folk club met on weekends to play and sing. We even performed a few times. The article about us mentioned some of the songs that we sung, a few I still remember, a couple I have no memory of, and one, “Stewball,” a popular Peter, Paul, and Mary tune, I still play at our Tuesday Night Jam.
Seeing the old newspaper article made me realize just how long I have been playing music. While I started with the banjo, I soon jumped over to the guitar, which was more versatile. My acoustic guitar, eventually led to an electric guitar when I played in a Rock and Roll band. Later, I bought and taught myself to play the mandolin.
These days in our Jam. I play the acoustic guitar and mandolin. I also continue to love to sing. Mostly I love to sing harmonies, but in our jam I usually have to sing the lead.
Music has always played a important part of my life, and I am fortunate that now in my dotage and having lost a finger, I am still able to participate in it. All week long I look forward to Tuesday Nights , because that is when our Jam gathers to play music. Tonight, which is Tuesday, one of songs I will pick to do, is going to be “Stewball.” When we play it, I am going to think about those years of long ago, when my old friends and I played the same song in high school.
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I knew there was a possibility of an irregular night just before bedtime, when I carried Kona out for her final pee. That last pee didn’t happen.
Something was wrong with Kona’s irregular legs, which she uses to struggle over to find the exactly-right place to pee, but last night she just sat there, when I put her down. I think her joints were just hurting too much for her to try, so after a long wait, I picked her back up and carried her back into the house.
I knew that her lack of peeing before bed, meant that she would probably have to go in the middle of the night, and that is what happened.
I was in a deep sleep, when my wife’s voice broke through my slumber, telling me that Kona seemed to want to go outside. Although I forced myself out of bed, I was only half awake and very groggy. I didn’t get dressed, thinking that the underwear that serve as my bed clothes, would probably suffice in getting me through a quick trip outside. I did put on my winter boots.
I bent down, picked up Kona, who seemed heavier than usual, and carried her out the front door. When I opened the door, I saw that overnight, a skiff of snow had covered the sidewalk and yard. I stepped off of the porch and began walking down the sidewalk. I stopped, then began to lower Kona onto the ground.
Every time I do this, before she gets to the ground, Kona starts really squirming and twisting, trying to keep her balance. When she did that last night, as I was bending over to put her down, it threw me off balance, causing my boots to slip on the snowy sidewalk, and down I went, slamming my side on the edge of the sidewalk.
Fortunately, Kona seemed okay and waddled off to pee, and I lifted myself back into a vertical position and began to brush my now snow-covered underwear, off. It was hard to get the snow off of my back, but I did the best I could. When Kona was done peeing, and signaled me by sitting down, I hefted her back up in carrying position, and carefully packed her back into the house to her bed.
By this time, I was wide awake. I took off my boots, then went upstairs to the bedroom, and still in my semi-damp clothes, crawled into bed. I never regained that deep sleep I had been in, before my outside adventure.
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When our tram began to approach Amsterdam’s Central Station, it unexpectedly stopped. Passengers in the front of the tram started to get off, but a uniformed woman who had some handcuffs boarded, and seemed to be telling us to stay. Then, when she did direct us to go, a uniformed man passed us, heading for the back of the tram, and I think they were in the process of busting some guys in the back of the tram. Once out of the tram, we noticed that there were a couple of cars, blocking the track.
At the station we caught a train headed for Klon, (Cologne) Germany. I was surprised when we arrived at Klon to see that its train station was right at the base of the very impressive Dom Cathedral, which was amazing in its size and detail.
To me it seemed a strange situation inside the spectacular cathedral with the hundreds of tourists milling around, while the locals were trying to have their religious experience, but I guess they were used to it.
We climbed the three hundred spiraling steps up the steeple. Just as we approached where the enormous bells hung, they began ringing (not a strong enough word for the intense sound we experienced.). It was so incredibly loud in the bell room.
From the bell area we continued our around and around climb up the narrow steps, until we got to the top level of the steeple. From there, we could look out over the whole city and countryside. Even up at those upper levels, there were religious statues and knick-knacks everywhere, things that no one who just visited the ground floor of the cathedral would see; all quite amazing.
The ground floor of the cathedral was mosaic. The stain glass windows were colorful and very intricate, but most of all, it was the immensity of the Dom Cathedral that struck me.
