Gratitude makes the journey better. Kindness, too.

Category: Armchair Mayor Column

The Magic Behind Gloomy Skies On A Winter’s Day In Kamloops

(Originally published as a column in The Armchair Mayor News on February 28, 2014)

ShoresThat day last week was the first sunny one in a while. So we picked up the boys after school and walked home along the river. The ice was thick enough to walk on, and smooth enough to skid every which way. Funny makes life better every now and then.

We threw rocks towards the other shore. Frozen solid, the ice held our rocks mid-river until many days later when, on a snappy-cold windy day, we ventured again to one of our favorite spots along the shores. The boys’ cheeks were red, but they kept on walking, holding sticks for swords and turning their backs occasionally on a wild wind.

It is a pleasantly puzzling thing, this river shore walk, especially in winter. We come across different things every time. A beaver pond not far from where we live was the subject of many lively discussions and the mystery of how beavers do it so beautifully is still alive with the boys. Just a few steps away . . .

Other times we see birds galore waddling their slippery ways on the ice, or discover rinks that could not be more perfect for the silliest games of ‘human bowling’. Rules are invented on the spot, in case you were ready to ask.

It is our second winter in Kamloops and the delight keeps growing.
There’s no two things you get to repeat the same way and that is magic. Sure the sun is often taking a multi-day leave of absence, I was warned of gloomy winter as soon as I moved here, but the magic stands.

During the first cold spell this winter we ventured to Lac Le Jeune for some cross-country skiing. It was sunny but cold; very. The wind added to the dreaded chill. I had never heard a creakier sounding snow. We skied and our breaths made any loose hair strands white with frost and the boys kept talking about frostbite.

We realized it is no longer dedicated ski hills or trails that hold the highest appeal for us but the frozen lakes and the gentle long slopes around Kamloops where every hundred steps a thicket of birch trees guarding animal tracks makes us stop and realize once again that we’re but humble visitors. Privy to pure beauty.

The places we visit are alive with sounds of life muffled by thick curtains of snow draped around trees by occasional winds. Silence is a reminder of the necessity to honour our own…

SnowySometimes the clouds pile up quick and the air becomes thick with white specks. Tracks erased, we stop and become part of it all for a bit. Trees sway sideways, and far away we see farms with thin smoke slithering through the roof and black cows peppered around hay feeders. It’s peaceful.

It simply never gets old. Winter here I mean. A few weeks ago we drove to Stake Lake to see the ice racing. A first for all of us. It was cold but fun. A Kamloops tradition we had to witness, which happened to include parking on a frozen lake. West coast transplants like us find it fascinating.

CaveAnd why not? Ice and snow transform winter here in Kamloops and surroundings. Lakes and rivers freeze, if you walk along beaches and shores you can find ice caves that have the most beautiful stalagmites and stalactites that sparkle just so when a few sun rays sneak in.

There are countless ice rinks to skate on and clouds wrapped in orange sunset ribbons if you happen to look up at the right time.

There are forests to tiptoe in and spot red-tufted woodpeckers and if you keep on driving on snowy roads you’ll find lakes that have giant upside down old trees trapped in ice and half-covered in white powder, speckled with bunny tracks lining up all the way to a burrow under a pile of frozen branches.

Road to wonderNo excuse is good enough to not try and discover yet another place that’s so different than the others when you have the time. No electronic game satisfying enough to compete with the exhilaration of a first perfect no-tumble downhill run under a ski so blue you almost doubt it’s real.

The skies may be glum many days here but there are rewards that go beyond the city limits and even within, if you’re careful enough to look for clues of magic. Because there are plenty.

Because is more to winter in Kamloops than meets the eye (initially)…

They Need To Know About The Past To Understand The Present

(Originally published as a column in The Armchair Mayor News on February 21, 2014)

On the way to Wells Grey Park last spring we spotted a ghost house and its adjacent barn and we stopped. The boys would not have it any other way. We walked through tall green grass all the way to the house and looked inside through rickety windows. Speechless was the only way to do it right.

An old fireplace, wooden slabs chewed by various bugs lay asleep on dusty floors and from somewhere in a corner, the chirping of new baby swallows. A nest was safely glued to the ceiling and beady eyes peeked at us.

Photos are never able to convey the feeling of being there. The boys ask questions; some answers we know, some we look up together and some we will never know.

We have been trying to get into some other old establishments in Sandon for a while now. It is not exactly a bright star on everyone’s map, but it is on ours. Until we get to explore it fully with the boys, that is. And afterwards too because it holds a piece of the province’s history that children should know about.

As the boys grow, we will keep the list of places growing too. Soon to visit is Bella Coola, and The Sacred Headwaters of the Skeena.

When time has to be squeezed for bigger trips, we put in all our might, because it matters that the boys see and know.

We took them to see the pictographs up at the caves near Savona, and though the hike was a gnarly one, they both declared it worth it when they got to the top.

We take them to see old towns where the new is slow to come and for a good reason. People are not ready to part with the good things that worked well for so many years.

We take them to see remote areas with no sign of civilization, we take them to old quiet forests where the only steps are those of animals, and then talk about it all. Questions abound, then other topics tumble through their curious minds, but we see the places we visited reflected in their games.

Outside games, muck and sticks and expeditions so adventurous they make their eyes sparkle with excitement. All in a day’s game…

We want the boys to see the face of the world in its entirety, not just in its novelty. Because no matter how well designed, progress and novelty are but part of the real world, and they will never offer the big picture just by themselves.

Children need both sides. They need to see what a place looks like, they need to understand why, and they need to understand what the future holds should changes occur.

The world is changing fast. Forces other than needs – think economic growth and not necessarily for the benefit of the province or country – dictate how the future unfolds. The recent dismantling of science libraries by the Harper government sent a chill through many a spine in the country. If we erase or are made to forget the past then the future will be built on sand and that’s a short-lived future.

Knowing where you come from shapes the way you take as you advance through life. It applies at a personal level as well as a community and society level.

We will keep on taking the boys along for rides. From near to far, through snow-clad old forests where old mines and forgotten train tracks lay forgotten, to visiting our museum here in town, we will keep on adding pieces to the big puzzle that will be one day called a responsible citizen.

One that acts with grace and possesses the understanding of how he came to be. With gratitude towards the people who walked ahead of them and responsibility for the ones that are to come. Because life was never intended to be partially erased or forgotten.

Because there is more to life than being in the present. There is minding of the past and the future and building the bridge to link them with all that we learn along the way.

What I know is that children learn best when they do it hands on. Eyes on too. The hearts and minds follow every time.

It Takes A Village…

Originally published as a column in The Armchair Mayor News, the new venue for The Way I See It column, on February 14, 2014. 

It was at bedtime that I heard my youngest singing the refrain of a recent Miley Cyrus hit, something that has to do with a wrecking ball. Music likes and dislikes aside, the piece has a questionable video to go with it.

I asked where it came from. Kids in his class he said, some were singing it all day. He is grade 2. It was part of a school concert that he was absent from.

I know that this teen star who has long left innocence behind is merely a product of show biz. Her antics though are admired by many elementary school children, none old enough to fully understand the perils of missing moral values.

I admit to a sinking feeling. That he knew the song, that this song is in the end just a song that will go away but there are so many other things that have the power to take away his innocence and nothing short of keeping him away from the world will allow me to protect him. That other people could open his eyes about things children are better off without knowing.

There is a lot out there our children are not ready for. Think explicit sexual content, horror movies, pornography that should have nothing to do with elementary school children but it does. More than you think.

If you don’t believe me, ask your children or other children you know. If they’re letting you in their world even for a bit, and if you listen, you’ll find dark patches that will bring you to tears.

I said it before, it is not prudishness that causes my frustration, but the realization that no matter how hard I try to keep my sons away from things they are too young and too innocent to understand, someone will peel their eyes open and that can take away the one thing I cannot give back to them: their innocence.

This is not a new topic nowadays. We hear high school students swap inappropriate content pertaining classmates.  We want it addressed. We sincerely believe that the investigation that follows and possible criminal charges – possession and trafficking of child pornography – will teach them a lesson.

Until it happens again. Because it does.

We are told we should talk to our children. We know that and try. We should set a good example. We do, many of us. We should communicate more and better. Learn.

No parent is perfect. I diligently follow my heart when it comes to parenting and diligently own up to my many mistakes, learning a bit more from each of them. I answer questions, I hug, I wipe tears and hug again.

With the topic of sex and all related, I take the straight talk approach though I was raised with a dead silence around the very topic. Children know when you mean well versus just policing.

The sex topic includes pornography. It’s out there, lots of it and it’s never been easier to access. Some people say ‘Not my kid’ and I wish that were true. We have all been that parent at some point.

Before you say ‘Oh come on, what’s the big deal?’ I will ask you this: what is a 10 or 11-year-old going to gain out of watching porn? Or what is a seven-year-old to gain from watching horror movies that he is all too willing to share about with classmates the next day at school.

Nothing. They lose. And we lose with them.

I came to realize that no matter what I do, when my boys are out and about, I have no say in what they see or hear. It is often the roughest, dirtiest, scariest bits that come out that way. Resilience? Hardly a match for today’s challenges.

We are each parenting our own children, or so we should, but we are also parenting other people’s. As soon as my sons leave home to go to school in the morning, the things they learn at home and the examples we set as parents will show.

We’re in it together. It is the proverbial village called upon to raise the children that will do that. The way I see it, I am parenting some of the Kamloops children together with my own and so is every Kamloops parent out there.

Let’s not let our children down. Mine and yours. Ours.

The Reality of Our Fast Changing World

Note: As of last week, my former Kamloops Daily News ‘The way I See It’ column will be published on The Armchair Mayor News website in the columns section. A new adventure begins! 

Both my sons attend Stuart Wood Elementary. For now. They might not, soon, if the plans to close the school are realized. I wish they will not. The board meeting on February 17 may or may not result in heartache.

Sure the building is old and the yard is rather small. The building is not suited for wheelchair or stroller access either and that is a problem. But shuffling children and removing the school hub from downtown Kamloops is also a problem. A big one.

Children nowadays witness change on a regular basis. Major changes that is. My sons have recently witnessed the dismissal of the Kamloops Daily News, and they see entire neighborhoods change whenever we visit Vancouver.

Old heritage houses with lots of life in them are tore down and new large villas and mansions take their place. Old cedar trees silently guarding back yards have been taken down for three-car garages. The school the boys attended for a couple of years disappeared to make room for a new top-of-the-line building.

Straight angles have never been straighter.

Change is part of life. It always has been. Nowadays though one cannot escape the feeling of change being pushed forth not out of necessity but sometimes for economic reasons, or simply because old is slowly losing its appeal due to its apparent lack of functionality.

In the case of Stuart Wood elementary school, creativity can be employed to retrofit the building to address current concerns. Many old buildings could be preserved at a lower cost than it would cost to tear them down and build new ones.

With them, the sense of community would also be preserved, and the history behind it. If learning is what we want our children to do, then a lesson in the history and importance of preserving the past would be a good one to start with. Roots are important.

In the age of everything moving fast and at a pace that we often have trouble adjusting to, grounding should be a community goal. I cannot think of a better way to express care for one’s home community, whether one is born in it or has been recently transplanted, as our family has.

Neighborhood changes are perhaps a projection of the larger scale ones. Or the other way around. Which makes it fair to say they are the cause and effect of each other, a vicious circle we witness daily.

Our children hear of species on the brink of extinction, they hear of changes in the world environment brought on by global warming, which can be traced to massive changes in how we exploit natural resources and dispose of what is deemed to be less modern.

Parents wonder what the world will look like when today’s children will become adults. How much of today will be lost and at what cost?

In every life endeavor pace is important. So is consideration for what serves a community best. Learning could start with a lesson in continuity and how creativity can salvage old beloved buildings. In a fast-changing world, continuity ensures grounding.

Changes based on necessity have the potential to foster healthy growth. Of people and communities. They also have the potential to teach children lessons that might become key to not worrying what the future holds for their children when they become adults.

It’s only fair to keep that in mind in everything we do.

The Kind Of Snake I’d Like to Be When I’m Not a Mammoth

It’s after school. We’re driving to the big library downtown. In the back, the boys are reading (Tony) and munching on the rest of his lunch sandwich (Sasha). It is one of those picture perfect end-of-September afternoons. The air is still crisp yet at this hour one could say that it was softened into submission by the sun.

We park by the big round building with the appearance of a coliseum that has “Please come in” written all over it. If you haven’t seen this landmark building in Vancouver (and if of course you’re not on the other side of the planet at the moment, not that that would be necessarily be a hindrance, stranger things have happened) you have to make your way there. It’s a good place to be.

There is a piazza, you see, covered and abounding with coffee shops and eateries, and not the fast, pack-an-artery/have-a-sugar-crash-shortly type. People are reading, staring, eating, chillin’… We walk in and go straight to the kids’ section. Sasha’s interest these days revolves around reptiles and prehistoric life. Tony wanders and finds treasures to feed his newly discovered Harry Potter passion.

We then go on an escalator joyride (is where you go up and down just because and then you do it again, despite people staring at you). A by-passer throws me a “You know that can get you all nauseous?”. Nah, I shrug, thinking he should’ve seen the Budapest subway escalator plunging all the way to the centre of the Earth and back up again.

An armful of books later we wade through the river of people and drive back across the bridge to the laid-back life on the other side. Traffic wraps around us like caramel. The boys look through an oversized book of snakes they got from the library.
“If you were a snake what kind of snake would you be, Mom?” There’s not an ounce of jest in Sasha’s voice. He means it. Well, a yellow one, I say. “I’d be a black and red one,” he says. Tony picks black, red, yellow and blue. We talk about camouflage and poisonous snakes. They’re good with being poisonous as snakes. I settle for a mellow corn snake. I think of snakes driving a car and the idea slithers into my head for a future project, pun intended, of course.

“Can we stop at the beach?” Can’t pass by the beach without stopping, and today’s dry sand and sunny skies make it an obligation. We go to the beach. We eat dates and play Cro-Magnon. I’m a mammoth. Tony’s a saber-tooth tiger but he takes too long to succumb to the hands of Cro-Magnon Sasha and the little Cro-Magnon has a fit.

There’s fighting, laughing and crying hanging like little bats onto the boys, there’s tears and screaming, and then, there’s me. Just sitting in the golden-glowing sand of Jericho beach at dusk and thinking that hungry kids and Cro-Magnon games just don’t mix well. We head home to have dinner and bedtime finds us reading more about… well, Cro-Magnons. We look through the snake book because there is this black snake I am told I have to see. Tomorrow I’ll look for the yellow one.

Later on after bedtime hugs and kisses Tony whispers “You’re so precious, Mom.” I am ready to say “Oh, no, you see, I am not perfect…” but I bite my tongue. He did not say that I am perfect, he really did not mean it that way. The way I see it, perfect means fault-free. Well, I’m far from that.

Precious means real and it means loved. Faults and all. I hug him tight and then my teary eyes and I tippy toe out the door. The house is quiet and dark. It’s my quiet writing time, so I make tea and write and I can almost hear my heart sigh a sleepy happy sigh as it cuddles up with two sleepy boys. If I were to paint it using just one color, I would not use perfect but precious. Just like sunlight, the latter has the whole spectrum.

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