Where the hell have I been?

 I am aware I have not blogged in such a long time and I had no idea just how long until I logged in here today. It has simply been too long. So just what have I been up to? I will give you the highlights. 

2021 finished out with me going to Salt Spring Island to pack up my daughter and her ducks and move her to another farm, alone. She had secured a farm hand job on a willow farm where accommodation for herself, her two elderly kitties, and her six pack of runner ducks. It was short term, and worked on a long term plan to follow. I was thrilled and super proud to find out she secured a job in Victoria and will be moving to Vancouver Island, even closer to me. This meant we could finally spend more fun time together, like going for hikes, or meals, or ice cream, or playing at the beach, going shopping, for manicures or whatever. We had not lived in the same city since she moved out a few days after graduation from high school, aside from 6 months stuffed into my Yukon cabin loft with me on an air mattress. 

2022 was a busy enough year. My daughter moved the area and started up her office career again and I was finally done contact tracing, having finished my last shift over the Christmas holidays. Once released back to my usual job, I was able to settle in, get to know my facilities and the people in them. It was a busy time in my field of work during the middle of the pandemic. I don't want to talk much about my job or the pandemic on this blog other than to say I survived all of my vaccines and did not contract the virus, and I am happily settled into my job and reckon I shall retire from her in ten years. 

So what else is there besides the pandemic and my job(s)? Well my daughter and I kept ourselves busy and active all year. When the weather was warm enough, we went paddling. I have an inflatable stand up paddleboard that I sit on with a kayak paddle, and I had bought my daughter an inflatable kayak. We had a fabulous summer on the water and explored as many bodies of water from various access points as we could find. Her inflatable suffered three punctures but it didn't matter as my daughter was hooked on paddling and started our paddling adventures this year with a rigid kayak. We get out as often as we can together, alone, or with other friends. Victoria and south island just has so many places to put in and paddle around.

When we are not paddling we are often hiking the many trails or combing the beaches for beach glass. We have embraced the west coast life, and spend a great deal of time outdoors when the weather is fine. September is here now, so we are wrapping up our summer activities and preparing for the raining fall ahead. Fall brings more activity at the farm stands on the south island, so we often spend our weekend exploring this part of the country. 

I am still rock painting, although on somewhat of a hiatus during the summer months, but now the days are getting shorter and the weather wetter, so the rock studio will be busy again soon. I sew occasionally, but not for crafting much anymore. I have a few projects waiting so will get to them this fall. 

I have a pretty busy flower garden on my patio that I have been developing over the past couple of years, trying new plant, ripping out others. My favorites are the dahlias, so there are always some of those. 

I have been out there trying new things as well. I recently joined a Lion Dancing group where I am learning the footwork and drumming for the dance. I also joined a Kung Fu group run by the same persons. My body sends me regular reminders that I am no longer 18 years old with a nimble and flexible body. The same folks also run a free tai chi group at the park near my house so I think I will see about that next. With the pandemic behind us, I am open to trying just about anything again. Victoria has limitless opportunities to get out there and meet people and try something new. 

Nash has a new roommate - I brought home a betta fish we named Crosby to keep Nash company. I had considered getting a second cat, but if it doesn't go well, it could be a gong show that I have no wish to buy tickets to.

So there you go. All caught up. :-)

The Amber Quilt

I helped my daughter move into a place of her own this past month. One of the things that moved was a coffee table wrapped up in this quilt. The table had been stored in a barn these past few years, having no space suitable for a glass coffee table in a small trailer. The barn space was not kind to the quilt, but it did protect that table for the past three years. The table was unwrapped, cleaned up, and now rests in her little cabin in the woods. I took the quilt home with me to wash off the barn history of wind, rain, mold, rats, cats, and who knows what else crawled around in barns on farms. The quilt came out perfectly clean, with just one ripped portion of the quilt, damaged in the storage/moving process. The ripped portion reminded me of just how old the ripped fabric that tore was. It was the oldest in the quilt. 

You see this was not just a quilt made with purchased fabrics to use in a patterned square. This was a memory quilt. Each piece of fabric used in this quilt was either part of clothing Amber once owned, or had it’s own story, instantly recognizable to me for it’s origin. I also appliqued her name in the middle of it. Now 35 years old, she has dragged that quilt with her from one end of the country to the other. It still has the corner where a dog named Zipper chewed edge of it. Zipper slept with her in bed with that quilt when we lived in Waterloo, and I was finishing my third degree. 

The oldest piece is from some curtains my grandmother Liz once hung in her kitchen window. There may even be people who remember those curtains as they hung there for many years as people walked up from the wharf after the ferry had been and gone. There is a piece from curtains I made for my bedroom window in Grand Bruit. They matched my bedding set and wallpaper border. It was the 90s so it was of course dusty rose…

There is a piece of fabric that is a leftover piece from the very first quilt I sewed by hand in Grand Bruit. I had not been able to fetch my electric sewing machine to Grand Bruit that first winter I spent there so I decided to hand sew a quilt that winter. The quilt blocks were from Roy’s shop, rough precut pieces of fabric in a plastic bag. I was pregnant with Amber while that quilt lay across my lap day after day growing bigger along with me. I had learned how to sew quilts from my grandmother Liz when I was ten years old, if not younger.

There is a piece of fabric that was from a Hawaiian type shirt she had when she was just 6 or 7 years old. She wore that outfit until it just didn’t fit anymore.

There is a piece of purple calico that I made a pillowcase for her and new curtains, dresser scarves. That was the year we painted her room purple with a border of purple bow wallpaper.

There is a piece of baby flannelette from a baby quilt I made for her, also with her name appliqued in the middle. This quilt became her nap quilt. She dragged that off with her wherever the nap was going to occur. Middle of the floor, on the stairwell, across the couch, wherever. I had that blanket with me for years until I lost it in the fire that New Years Eve.

There is a piece of fabric from a quilt I made for my sister many years ago, before she was married. I saw that quilt on every visit, and I know it was certainly well used. That is what quilts are meant for. To use.

There is a piece of fabric from a craft apron I made her when she was getting messy with her creations or when she was baking. It was a zip up vest style that she wore for years.

There is a piece of brown calico fabric that my brother and sister and I should remember well. Our parents dragged that brown fabric from one end of the country to the other. I feel like my mother must have bought a thousand yards of it as it turned up everywhere. It was curtains in the basement of the house in Chatham, covering floor to ceiling shelves my father built to store things in. Those curtains were repurposed countless times, the fabric moved with us for years and years, always in a box somewhere, hauled out for the next purpose.

There are several pieces of fabric from clothes that I sewed for her for years until it wasn’t cool anymore to wear stuff your mom sewed up for you.

There is a piece of fabric from a lap quilt that I made for my father many years ago. It was a quillow which meant it had a pocket on it for your feet when open, and when you fold it up into the pocket, it becomes a pillow. My dad used that for years. Then my mom used it for years. I sewed her two new ones after that but she preferred the threadbare one of my father’s. Memories of course. I get it.

There is a piece of fabric from the first costume I sewed for her. She was a little clown that year. It was a jumpsuit with a cone hat on top of crazy clown hair. She had a red nose and a ruffled collar. The costume was big enough to fit over her snowsuit – a common need on the east coast.

There is a piece of fabric from a set I made for her dolls one year – bassinet, diaper bag, quilt, baby carrier, all kinds of stuff. She loved playing with it until she outgrew doll play. Then my niece Olivia played with it for many summer visits as I left it all behind with my mother.

There are pieces of fabric from doll clothes that I sewed for Amber. She had so many dresses and other outfits for her dolls of all sizes. I often had lots of scraps of lovely fabrics from sewing bridesmaid dresses, wedding gowns, and prom dresses for years.

This is the story of this quilt. This is the story of many quilts. 

 

The Gypsy Wagon - A hell of a ride...

I have finally managed to secure myself an apartment to move into and will be selling the Gypsy Wagon asap. It is the end of an era for me for sure. When I returned from Australia after spending four years there, I was not sure what was going to be next for me. Australia had been a bit of a gong show, particularly the last few months that I was not in a state to work full time and manage an apartment. I knew that I needed some time to heal, get my energy back, decide what would be next in my life, and reacquaint myself with Canada.

I spent a couple of months with my mom in Halifax before returning to Victoria. I had no other plan in mind than living in my VW Westfalia that I had given to friends before I moved to Australia and they so graciously handed back to me upon my return. I lived in the Karma van (the VW’s name) for the summer and determined it was just not big enough to live in full time. There was no bathroom. Something needed to change but I was still not sure what I was going to do with my life.

I had some money in an RRSP that I was able to access so I bought the Gypsy Wagon in September of that year, actually on September 4, 2015…6 years to the day after my dad passed away. It felt like a good sign and totally coincidental. I had always looked to my dad for advice on vehicles and road travel and wished he could have been with me as I searched for the best RV. I know he was there in spirit. I also carry a small urn of his ashes with me as my co-pilot.

parked in the alley by Amber & Jason's

The Gypsy Wagon was a game changer. Having my own bathroom was the biggest
thing. I left for Edmonton about 2 days after I bought it, needing to finally visit with my daughter there. I had not seen her since my return to Canada, so it was a must do! I packed up the Gypsy Wagon and headed over the Rockies. The old girl handled the mountains like a champ. I spent nearly a month visiting before heading back to Victoria. I had considered staying but remembered just how damn cold and snowy the rest of Canada was and knew I needed to be in Victoria.

curbside  

I wasn’t sure where I was going to be parking so began by parking in front of the homes of friends. I did some house sitting, dog/cat sitting, and stayed in RV parks from time to time, and a few campgrounds. I also rented a long parking stall behind an apartment building for several months. Curbside was not my favorite. It meant the RV was usually not plugged in and dependent upon my solar panels which in grey winter rainy weather, I did not get much power. Curbside also meant the RV was tipped in towards the curb, so things rolled all over the place. To keep the parking patrol at bay, I moved the RV every few days, had a few places I liked to frequent and often “checked in” using Facebook at places like “Dead End at Chambers”. I ended up challenging most of my tickets and having them cancelled but it was getting rather annoying to be on the street with all the traffic and people passing by.

From curbside I went to an RV park but they were closing just a few months later for major renovations and new management so I moved out when they closed and parked myself in a local pay parking lot. It was next door to the city ballfield and had stalls long enough for my RV, and three sides of the lot were surrounded by trees and homes. For $10/night, it worked. There was wifi signal in the parking lot, and I managed to camp out there for nearly 2 years. 

Things began to get a bit creepy there and when my pizza delivery guy noted a weirdo who was video recording me as I had pizza delivered was the final straw. It was time to begin searching for a new space. All I really wanted was an RV park but with at least a year wait list and the only one nearby was so crowded, they were not at all attractive. I had been looking for a driveway to park in for a few years with no luck. 

in my friend's driveway

Then a friend came to my rescue and offered me her driveway. I was thrilled! Finally a little more security than living in a parking lot. It was a busy household with 5 children and a large dog. We all had our routines and lived busy lives so we ticked along quite well until the pandemic. That changed a lot of things for us all.

Gypsy Wagon in the background of tractor

Just a few days after the pandemic was declared, I ended up in the hospital for a
week for a DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) and was rather sick. Once I was discharged, my plan had been to go to Salt Spring for awhile to recover and to see what would be unfolding with the pandemic. I had been parking in that driveway without issue – but my bunk was located in the rear of my vehicle and the window was right beside my pillow, and with the window open, people walking down the sidewalk were within mere inches of my face, during a pandemic where coughing would be spreading the virus. All of a sudden I did not feel safe anymore. So off I went to Salt Spring to say on the farm with my daughter and her partner. I had no plan of how long – how did any of us in those first weeks and months of the pandemic? I just knew that if shit got real and things started to deteriorate fast, I needed to be with my only child when it happened.

Farm kitty with my RV

So I drove the Gypsy Wagon over to the farm and parked for a couple of months. I was already set up for off grid living, so it wasn’t hard to manage. Once I had used up my on board water, my daughter’s partner would bring some in bottles and fill me up again. Those two months I spent on the farm were quite special. I loved being there and I was getting healthier in such a beautiful space. I regained my strength and before we knew it, things were opening up again in Victoria. I was unable to return to my former driveway parking space due to the pandemic – it would just not work for me. A couple of my very close friends then decided to organize a driveway for me to come home to. I had to park on the curb for a couple of weeks while they sold their old RV to make room for mine, and then once it sold, I was home. I pulled the Gypsy Wagon up into the driveway and set up camp.

This driveway was much farther from the sidewalk so I didn’t get nearly as much noise and the traffic noise was muffled as I was between two houses now. The driveway was slanted though, so it took a bit of getting used to living on a slant. The straight lines of siding on the houses outside were making my brain crazy as I tried to reset my balance with the new slant. I spent the next year living here, and it was my oasis in the pandemic. It felt like living with family, and we had our tight social bubble for many months as the public health orders continued. We leaned on each other for support over the past year as we all faced the pandemic and the effect it had on us all.

I continued to visit the farm on Salt Spring regularly and took the Gypsy Wagon there happily. Then my daughter and her partner had their driveway landscaped and his brother’s portion was fenced, so it became increasingly difficult to get my RV to the part of the property where they had settled in. They had bought a much larger trailer to live in and it had a bunk room where I could sleep (amongst other animals – chickens, dog, cats, etc.) so I began leaving the Gypsy Wagon at home in the driveway and rented a car for my journeys to the farm. That seemed to work so much better now so I decided to buy a car and continued my car trips the farm, leaving the Gypsy Wagon at home month after month.

my trusty co-pilot Nash

It became clear I was having less and less use for an RV to live in. I was not travelling anymore, and I had a car, was working full time again in a job I like, and was growing out of my RV. My hobbies and activities were keeping me busy and filling up my RV with supplies, enough that I started tripping on bins of rocks, stubbing my toes on this and that as my RV crowded me out. The final straw came though when I started having more struggles getting out of my bunk. One morning I had a really bad charley horse in my abdomen as I struggled to fight gravity and the slope of the RV to crawl out of my bunk. It is only open at the bottom end of one side corner, so I couldn’t simply swing my legs out to get up. I was certain at the time I would wither and die right there in my bed. With each attempt to get out of bed, the charley horse would seize me up and lock my middle core right up. I eventually made it out of bed, but it was finally clear to me that the Gypsy Wagon was not working for me any longer.

Add to that the ongoing issues that face owners of older vehicles/RVs. I had just

Nash in the Nash Pad

spent $666.01 (I know – what a price) on the roof seal in January. There is an oil leak that needs tending. It was all becoming too much for me to manage – and more importantly, I did not WANT to manage anymore. I would like to just come home from work and relax. Instead the Gypsy Wagon was fast becoming a huge trigger for my anxiety. Backing down the driveway to go dump the tanks was something I stressed about constantly. When my tanks were nearing full, I hardly slept thinking about having to back the beast down the hill and not hit anyone or ripping the black water tank off. I would put it off again and again, choosing to go without running water or using my toilet for days on end until I could get my shit together enough to take care of it.

There have been many adventures had in this old Gypsy Wagon. To name just a few:

• Road trip to Edmonton over the Rockies when I first bought her.
• Road trip the following year to Desert Trip with my friend M. We took two weeks and went to a massive music festival in California that fall. We travelled through 7 states and camped all over the place. We drove through the Grand Canyon, across the Golden Gate Bridge, through the mountains everywhere and had a wonderful adventure.
• Road trip to Houston, BC to stay with my sister and her family for several weeks. It was our best visit, likely due to me having my own personal space when I needed it. From there I left for Edmonton for another couple of months.
• Many road trips to go camping all over Vancouver Island including several trips to our friend’s property at Sunny Daze. It sure made camping so much easier!

The not so happy adventures were less in number but some were quite notable:

• ·    The early morning S.W.A.T. (or whatever they are called in Canada) descended upon the small apartment building I was parked in front of for months. I heard a BANG and so looked out my windows to discover several in tactical gear with weapons out – the guy beside my bunk window just waved at me to shhhh and get down…yikes. They then busted into the guys apartment and arrested him for several things related to drugs and guns.
• ·    Breaking down on the TransCanada fast lane during rush hour. I had thrown my alternator belt after just coming down off the Malahat Mountain. Left me stuck in heavy traffic, terrified that someone was going to slam into me.
• ·    Having the RV broken into while I was inside. I was in Richmond parked behind the hotel I was staying at and had gone down to spend time with the kitty and was laying in bed with him when I heard a CRASH SMASH so I hollered out – and someone grabbed my work bag from the front seat and ran off. Glass everywhere. Rebar scrap outside they used to break the window. Parked in the front after that and someone parked right behind me as I was pulling out and so I smashed into them, no damage to the RV but nearly totalled the taxi I hit.
•      Waking up to frantic knocking on my door by some stranger while I was in the parking lot – looked out the window and he started yelling at me to let him in as people were going to kill him. I was certain he was at the wrong RV as I was not the only one in the parking lot and there were many who walk the city at nights if you had not already heard. I did not let him in. I told him to look to his right and walk to the police station a half block away…close enough that we could both see it.
• ·    And I could not forget the time I hit a palm tree in Hollywood looking for the Hollywood sign. Ripped the awning clean off. So I took the wrangled metal and canvas and threw it onto the front yard of the guy who owned the palm tree and got the hell out of there. We did find the sign…

So that is the history of the Gypsy Wagon. Adventures were had. She served me well. This chapter is over. The end. Now to find someone else for her to go on adventures with. Enjoy the trip down memory lane with me below. I have tried to caption them all...

driving down the highway in America

Camped out at Desert Trip for the shows

had some leaks - so much to dry out

garage time for a seized pulley in Alberta

breakdown on the TCH in Victoria

hitching me up 

bastard broke my front drivers window

ripped the awning right off her in Hollywood

Nash in the top bunk

Nash on the window bench

Nash and the boys

In the Nash Pad

He did not like his bandanna

naps on the front seat aka Nash's litter room

Nash has been unkind to my seat backs

Nash enjoying the heat

snow???

Nash and I warming up

Nash on the front seat

Nash the overlord

Nash watching the world

watching tv with Nash

loved catching the sun in his curtain hammock

another nap in the front seat

Nash in the woods

Loved the heater

his travel spot when not cowering in a cave

copilot rides again

big yawn

pre trip meeting with my girls

parked in Santa Monica at the beach

The sunset at Santa Monica Pier

We stopped before heading down into the Grand Canyon

stopped in the Grand Canyon for gas

my friend was awed at the Grand Canyon

my roadtrip buddy & I at the Grand Canyon

Grand Canyon

Some redneck campground for the night in America

Hugo and Michelle - road trip buddies

Hugo went everywhere with us

curbside in Victoria

no idea where I was here lol

parking lot in the fall

curbside at a friend's

camped at Jordan River

Jordan River campout with a friend

Jordan River beach

camping at Brad's Lizard

Brad was upgrading his solar panels at Brad's Lizard

Bear scrape at Goldstream Campground

Goldstream camping

French Beach campground

Sunny Daze campground

Camped at Sunny Daze doing earth art on acid

camped at Mohinna on Salt Spring