Nature Walk

Yesterday, of course, it rained again. Apparently June so far has been comparable to last November. November. Yech. And poor Mr.Q has to work outside. It wouldn't be so bad, except that somebody with sticky fingers walked off the job site with his rain gear. Poor guy had to fix a broken downspout yesterday. He came home a little damp:

Because Mom was in town again for work, he had just enough time to have a hot shower and get into dry clothes before we had to head out in the rain again. (I'd feel just the teensiest bit more sorry for him if he would wear his rubber work boots and at least keep his feet dry. Or use an umbrella. But no, he has to be all manly and stubborn. Dinglefritz!)

Mom took us out to a very tasty Mexican restaurant close to her hotel for dinner. It was a place I'd been once before, years and years ago, and I remembered it being really good. So I was both excited and a little nervous - much can change in a decade, and it wouldn't be the first time my expectations and remembrances were met with disappointment. Fortunately, this was not one of those times. Dinner was excellent, the service was friendly, Mom & Mr.Q didn't gang up on me as much as they usually do. Also, it was very warm inside!

Mom's hotel was also near Lost Lagoon. She mentioned she'd tried to find it, but couldn't. Well. The rain had let up, and a brisk walk would be just the thing after dinner. Also, the lagoon was only 2 blocks away. So we took her on a little sightseeing stroll. As we got to the park, a young couple with a bag of bread showed up to feed the birds.

The birds responded enthusiastically:


Mom got in on the action, doing her best duck-walk:



These birds were obviously used to humans. So much so that they assumed, since we were all just standing around, we must also have food for them. Swans? They are big birds!





When we escaped the ravening hoards, we went exploring through the rhododendron garden. The rhodies were pretty. But I was fascinated by the Tyrannosaurus Rhubarb, all huge and spiky:



And on the walk back to the hotel, another sight of freakish foliage - I have no idea what these are, but they look like candy corn.



By this time, the rain had started up again, and it was cold, so we said our goodbyes and headed home. We were lucky and caught our bus right on time (would have been a 30-minute wait if we'd missed it). I actually put an extra comforter on the bed last night, and the mountain of cats was even more welcome than usual.

Shameless plug: If anybody's looking for something to do around 8:00 (PST) tonight, Mr.Q's band The Gentle Infidels is playing live on one of the local campus radio stations...a show called "Melodies in Mind" - you can listen on the 'net. I may or may not tag along and hang out at the radio station while they do it...there's a chocolate knitting meet-up tonight, which is stiff competition...As in, a meet-up at a chocolate shop, not knitting chocolate. Though that could be interesting. Anyway. It's also fun to hang out in the studio - "yah, like, I'm with the band" - and watch the radio show in progress. I did a work study at CJSF when I was at school, so I have fond associations with the place. Though that campus in the rain, with all that concrete, is Depressing. Whereas chocolate and yarn are not. Hmmm. Tough decision....)

Playing hooky

Not only did we sleep ridiculously late yesterday...but by the time we got our lazy arses out from under the cats and vertical, the sun had actually come out. This event was, in fact, noteworthy, as it has been unseasonably cold for far too long. Enough so that the 2008 BG Triathalon World Championships, held here this weekend, apparently had to cancel the swimming because of the cold. After Friday's preliminary race, many of the athletes had to be treated for hypothermia. Brrrr! So - though we haven't been swimming in the bracing Pacific waters ourselves, the sight of sunshine was remarkable.

So much so that we decided it would be a waste of the weather to stay inside and do housework...we headed down for a walk through Stanley Park to English Bay. A perfect excuse to play hooky! We got off the bus near Lost Lagoon, and wandered along the water for a little while, enjoying the flowers and birds and the sunshine. We saw lots of swans:



Apparently there are a dozen or so who live in the lagoon. We were briefly concerned about one in particular, who had something weird going on with his (her?) foot - swimming around with one leg sticking out backward:



We ran into a friend who works at the interpretive centre at the lagoon and asked her about it. It seems that that's just how they rest. Kind of like swan yoga or something. It looked very odd, though, especially for such a graceful bird. (Useless trivia: a group of swans is not called a flock, but is referred to as either a "whiteness of swans" or - I love this - a "ballet of swans".) We watched the geese, a heron, a bald eagle, and lots of very chatty mallard ducks.

When I moved out to Vancouver the first time, to go to university, I was totally unfamiliar with the city. I lived here for a short time when I was very, very wee - like, 2 years old or something - and I don't think I ever came back until I moved here in the mid-90s. I spent the first weeks exploring the city, and trying to find some respite from the traffic and the noise and all the people. It was a bit of a culture shock, coming out to the Big City and finding myself at a university with a student population the size of my hometown. So any chance I got to look at trees, mountains, anything not involving human beans - I took it! I found myself down at Lost Lagoon one afternoon, and had the weirdest sense of deja-vu. I knew I knew this spot- but how?



Turns out my parents took me down there to feed the ducks when I was a munchkin. The trees were a bit smaller then. (Look familiar, mes parents?)

I took this one for my nieces, who think it's hilarious when the ducks stick their bums in the air:



We made our way through a whack of rhododendrons, and some crazy drivers, bushwhacked our way down a hill (no poison ivy, thank FSM!) and found ourselves on the sea wall.

Now, I miss the Rockies all the time, and I will always be a country mouse - an alpine country mouse. But there are things about living on the coast that are some compensation for being away from the mountains.



We sat on a bench and watched the sailboats and clouds for probably close to an hour. But the best part wasn't in the picture. I wish there was some kind of olfactory function on the camera, a scratch-and-sniff photo. That fresh, breezy, briny ocean smell is intoxicating. Add that to a lazy walk and the first hint of summer weather...bliss!



(Now, top that all off with an invitation to a spontaneous sangria party - was it really six pitchers? - and what you have, gentle readers, is a fine start to the summer!)

Wowzers!

Holy shades of university hangovers, batman! I actually (and totally accidentally) slept in until noon today. Only, in my old age, there was no booze involved. Which is good, coz I'd hate to actually have a hangover, and ruin this nice, lazy glow. Even if it does put a bit of a cramp in the day's schedule. Who cares? It's definitely worth it.

The surprising thing is that I actually got any sleep at all! I really think we need a bigger bed. Add a broad-shouldered 6-foot Viking to this:



And there's not so much room left, even for a hobbit. But it's awfully warm and cozy!

I think Mr.Q might actually be just this minute dragging himself out of bed to join me. The cats - not so much.

PS

After I posted yesterday, I spent the day not-so-secretly hoping that Mr.Q would come home, get upset with me, say "No, no, that's not what happened. You missed something important." I was half-composing sheepish, embarrassed posts admitting that I'd made a mistake, my MIL hadn't just arbitrarily decided to destroy the cat, so sorry that I upset everybody. Planning what I could do to make it up to Mr.Q for so unfairly maligning his mother. I just wanted so much to be wrong.

Well, there was one piece of information he hadn't shared with me the night before. And I'm glad I didn't know it, or I would have been much less kind yesterday. Seems that MIL had written it into her will that, if she died before Angel, the cat was not to be adopted out, but to be put down with her. Regardless of his health, potential life-expectancy, and the availability of willing family members to take him on. None of that mattered - euthanize him.

Ummmm....Egyptian pharaohs aside - is it just me, or does that smack of a rather psycho-stalker-ish "If I can't have him no-one can"?

I am so, SO biting my tongue right now. I keep thinking there has to be some kind of karmic lesson here...tolerance, compassion, yada yada. The thing is, when she treats people that way, it's a little bit easier to bite my tongue and be all evolved and stuff in my reaction. Or at least, keep my mouth shut in her presence. Because people at least have a chance to stand up for themselves, whether or not they choose to. The cat, not so much. If there is anything we can do to discourage her from ever having another pet, we'll try our damnedest.

Mr.Q was so sad all day yesterday. He did ask me for one thing: to please post something about loving cats. So. Here are some pics of our very adorable, much-beloved fur people this week, keeping themselves busy in the rainy weather, complete with close-ups of their furry tangled-up feet:

People are whacked

*Warning: rant ahead*

I am so mad right now I could spit. Or say inappropriate, unladylike words or something. Fiddlesticks. Jockstrap. Fart.

Fuck.

Nope, that's not helping. Here's the thing: Mr.Q & I are (in case you haven't noticed) cat people. We've been known to get a little carried away, from an outsider's perspective, when it comes to our beasties. When I was in university, I often lived on cheap rice and generic cornflakes, while the cats got the good food. The way I see it is this, though: When you adopt an animal into your family, you take on an unwritten contract with them. You get fuzziness, company, protection, comfort, warmth, pest control - and you provide security, food, and responsibility for their health and well-being. That's just the deal. And as the one with the opposable thumbs and the credit card, it's up to the human to uphold the contract.

Mr.Q is, if it's possible, even more of a cat person than I am. He comes by it honestly: his father, despite his burly, sometimes-obnoxious redneck persona, was the biggest marshmallow since Stay Puft, when it came to cats. He (my father-in-law) had this big, beautiful, fluffy, spitfire demon of a cat named Angel who travelled with him when he was away on long work contracts. When my FIL passed away four years ago, Angel kept my mother-in-law company - wouldn't let anybody else near him, in fact, just her. In the beginning, it sometimes seemed that the cat - and his connection to her husband - where what kept her going.

Now, my MIL and I don't have the closest relationship, but we try pretty hard for Mr.Q's sake. And as impatient as I can be, I'm not heartless. So when she called late last night to say that Angel had died, I was quite upset for her. What had happened? I knew she'd been concerned about a cough he'd developed, she'd said as much when I saw her last month. Was it kidney failure, a blockage, cancer? Poor cat...poor MIL!

Then again, maybe not. When Mr.Q got off the phone and told me the story - well, I've rarely seen him so angry. Here's what happened. Angel developed rapid, shallow breathing, and stopped eating, drinking, or using the litterbox, for three days before MIL took him to the vet. Three days. How much fun must that have been for him!

Finally, she decided to take him to the vet - to have him put down. Not to be checked out, not to see if there was anything they could do. Nope, she just decided that was it for the cat. The friend that took her tried to convince her to at least ask the vet if the cat could be saved. Nope. The vet asked if he could treat Angel and take him to the SPCA, if she didn't want him anymore - at no cost to her. Nope. She'd paid to have him euthanized, and that's what she was going to get.

Now, don't get me wrong - I know all too well how expensive vet bills can be. If it came down to it, and my cat was suffering, and there were no financially feasible options and nothing else I could do - I would have him put down. But this wasn't a question of money. She was given a choice, one that would cost her nothing, and she chose to kill the cat.

And it's not the first time she's done it.

I just don't know what to think about human beans sometimes. It makes me want to not get out of bed, some days.

(I do know that I am reminded, yet again, that I am very grateful for my own family. We may be a quirky bunch, but we're not batshit.)

My brain hurts

I just spent the whole morning doing the Quimby taxes, all by myself. The sense of victory will emerge soon, I 'spect, though right now it's buried (deep) under a fuzzy brain, well-fogged-in and stunned. I would celebrated by taking myself out for a coffee (since I need to get groceries anyway) but my period started this morning, and it's turning out to be one of those back-achey, so-bloated-my-jeans-don't-fit kind of things, where I'd be doing myself - and, really, the rest of the world! - a huge favour by staying in bed and away from the general public.

(The deciding factor will be whether or not we can squeeze just one more day out of the toothpaste tube...)

Also, I am moderately confused (and maybe slightly concerned) by my father's Facebook status update: He is excited that Mom is working on the car...he should have been a forensic pathologist, he can take anything apart.

Ummm....so, is the taking-apart thing part of fixing the car, or the cause of the car needing to be fixed?

Or is that a question better left unasked, and best left unanswered?

(How's that for a completely disjointed, plotless, largely pointless post? Hmm?)

Happy Birthday, Baby!

One of the (many!) best things about this trip home was that my youngest niece is now old enough to sort of remember who I am. Or at least, find me familiar and not too weird to get close to. Which is cool, coz she's the one that was born after I moved away, so we haven't had the same opportunities to get to know each other that her siblings & I have had. She's a cool little tyke (with a set of lungs that do her mother proud!) and I like her a lot. Also, today she's three!

Happy Birthday, Selah!