As The Butter Churns

February 22nd Lost & Found

 (Searching for Henry) (Crazy Canada guy)
 

 (Swedish fan)

 (USA - fans)

 (Canada Moose)
 

 (Chinese fans- ready to cheer)
 

     “Look for the goat hat!” Phoebe called as we made our way through the tented makeshift section of the venue. In no time flat we promptly located Olympic goat boy standing near the entrance next to a group of Chinese curling zealots. He was waving literally trying to flag us down.

     “I turned on my phone, but no one else had there’s on,” he recalled tears streaming down his face. Quinn and Lindsey peered at me sheepishly and we shrugged.

  (Henry trying to get someone to notice him)

    We sat down in our seats and soaked in the atmosphere. The cool blues and greens of the 2010 games were tranquil. Perfect for the winter. The flags flying over the ice filled me with a sense of pride. I remembered sitting in front of the television with my parents watching Jim McKay on ABC as Munich unfolded. I thought of the “Up Close and Personal” segments that inspired me and put me in complete awe of anyone who could dedicate themselves through adversity. I thought back to when my father had had Mark Spitz over to swim in our pool. Lisa and I had been legends of Round Meadow Elementary. I couldn’t believe I was finally sitting at an Olympic event. I could feel my eyes well up.

 (The flags)

 (The stadium- who knew curling was such a big event)

 (the official beginning)
 

     “Mom? Can you paint my face?” Henry asked whipping out some pens he'd had the foresight to bring along.

     “Ok, but I’m not your father,” I reminded him.

     “I know, but you’re here,” he said.

     “Gee thanks,” I said grabbing the pens. I suddenly had a vision and got to work. It took me longer than I thought.

     “Not bad Denise, will you do me next?” Phoebe asked.

     “I guess, OK all done,” I said after working diligently for some time. 

     “Thanks Mama,” Henry said and looked me directly in the eyes, “So it says Zimbabwe right?” 

     “You’re just like your father,” I said smacking him.

 (Henry with his USA face)
 

  (Phoebe and Henry in support of the USA Ladies Curing team)
 

 
 (I used a slightly different blue on Phoebe - and then touched up Henry's USA)

 (Lindsey -with Phoebe behind the flag-cheering on our team - with a huge Chinese cheering section behind her
 

We bought the little radio they sold at the concession stand so we’d know what was going on. And actually were lucky enough to sit next to a couple who knew quite a bit about curling. We learned about peeling and how heavy the rocks are.

     “I heard they were equivalent to three marmots,” Henry chimed in.

     “You know that’s how they named Whistler,” Lisa added, “because of the whistling sound marmots make”.

     “Really?” Chris marveled at his wife’s prowess. Lisa laughed. 

    "I'm not really that brilliant I heard it on the opening ceremonies, you fell asleep".

     We were glued to the match. We willed our stones toward the target as our Olympic team battled Sweden. We didn't exactly understand the game, but we traded around the radio in an attempt to get a more insightful appreciation. Nonetheless, we agonized as Sweden systematically knocked our stones out of the target area dashing our hopes of a win. As we sat waiting for Sweden to throw their stone, wondering if they'd throw a guard to block or a stone to score, we heard,

  (unfortunately it was a waste of $20.00- the broadcasters barely spoke of the event. They yammered on about all sorts of other topics rather than giving insight into what was happening)

 (Team USA Curling)

 (Sweden's Ladies Olympic Curling Team)

 

 (Team USA in scoring position)

 (Henry and Chris share a high-five)

 (Everyone watches nervously)
 
  (Chris being Chris)
 

 (Curling video assist)

 ("So do you think that's the 

Zam-Broomie?" Lisa cracked herself up)
 

 (Sweden takes a moment to strategize after Team USA threw there stone )
 

    “Go Sweden Go!” From Quinn?

     “Uh, you do know we’re playing them right?” Lisa said dripping with sarcasm.

     "Yes, but no one has cheered for them all night,” Quinn informed her.

     “They are killing us you realize?” Lisa responded.

     “How would you feel if no one cheered for you in the Olympics?” Quinn answered. “I’m on the world team”.

     “Me too,” Lindsey concurred. And they joined in as the Chinese fans did their call and response chant again. In Chinese.

     “I don’t know what the heck we’re saying but we’re coming as close as we can,” Quinn laughed until she could barely sit up.

 (Quinn & Lindsey Go Chinese!)
 

    "“They’re probably saying – you don’t know what we’re saying but we’re going to kick your butts,” Lisa laughed. “Hey look, there’s the family from Orcas Island.”

     Meanwhile patriotism was a live and well and residing in my son who couldn’t stop waving the flag Chris bought as we walked in the stadium. A nearby cameraman kept shooting Henry as two Canadian women who had a little too much alcohol heckled him relentlessly.

    “C-A-N-A-D-A - every day -And Stanford sucks too!” She sneered at Henry, “Anything’s better even Brown and Dartmouth!” Henry said nothing, kept his eyes straight ahead but waved his flag again. I turned to my sister, who was now sitting next to me.

 (Heckler)

    “Um, they do realize those schools are in the United States right?” I whispered to my sister.

     “They’re sore because they lost the hockey game today,” Henry said insightfully.

     “I don’t care! Excuse me! Excuse me! Ladies! Do you realize you’re yelling at a 12-year old at the Olympic games? He’s only twelve, please leave him alone,” Lisa defended Henry.

    "Huh, we thought he was a freshman," she murmured.

 (all the matches are right next to each other - everything happening at once.)

  (I understand one of the curlers on Team Germany was 4 to 5 months pregnant)

 (China vs. Canada)

 (Proof we were there)

 (Not sure why this picture of Lisa and Phoebe came out so White)
 

 (Henry Quinn and Lindsey pose)
 
 
     After Lindsey and Quinn and the rest of us helped cheer China to victory over Canada in a nail-biting shootout we began the long cold trek back to the train. Phoebe was practically walking in her sleep when Henry hailed down a taxi. Chris tried to make a run for it feigning a limp when he saw a man in a wheelchair was the other potential passenger.

     “Chris! I think you can go to Hell for that!” Lisa yelled. And we walked on.

     “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?”

     “I’m right here!”

     At the signal light just before the train we ran into a group of American flags.

     “Denise? Is that you?” I couldn’t have been more surprised who would know me in Canada? “We were at curling too! Wasn’t it great? I didn’t know anything about it before but it was exciting to see that shoot out!” he said with enthusiasm giving me a hug. “Hey, I’m Joe” he said turning to Henry who put out his hand.

     “Joe’s going to be our new tenant,” I explained.

     “Nice flag,” Henry admired.

 (Fireman Joe Spring)
 

     “You too,” Joe laughed.

     “Amy’s moving out?” Quinn lamented. I gave her the elbow to shut up.

     “Yes, Amy has to live closer to be on call for the hospital she works for in Mt. Vernon. So Joe and his girlfriend Kate and their dog Rugby will be moving in. Joe’s was a history major, lived in France and is a fireman,” I informed the group and bid Joe farewell.

     Once on the midnight train, we decided to make a long evening even endless.

 (everyone slowed down the moment the train began to move)

 (even Canada lost their pep)
 

     “C’mon let’s go see the flame,” Lisa encouraged. “You know you’ll be so bummed if you don’t,” she said to Chris.

     “We’re all up for it aren’t we?” I asked the kids, who sleepily nodded. And so after a short snooze on the train they rallied. We asked some of the volunteer Olympic "Smurfs" which way to go and they instructed us it was only a short twenty minute walk. So we marched along down the streets of Vancouver. There was no denying it is a lovely city. 

 (Denise and Lindsey en route to the flame)
 

 (we keep walking toward the flame)
 

     When the flame finally came into view, it took my breath away. I know it's just fire, but I'm an emotional basket-case and it's symbolic of so much more. Peace, unity, sacrifice, determination. My eyes welled up again. People from every country speaking in different languages helped each other take pictures of their families. And then there they were, our Orcas Island family. We took their picture and they took ours. We smiled, shook hands and shared one of the most memorable moments in our lives.

 (The FLAME)

 (me, Henry,Chris, Quinn, Phoebe,Lisa, Lindsey)
 

 (Our Olympic friends from Orcas Island)
 

    Just then, my phone rang. “Hello?” 

    “Hey! I saw you guys on CNBC!” Tom yelled into the phone.

     “Really? Tom saw us on TV!”

    "OHMIGOSH TOM SAW US ON TV" Phoebe squealed.

    “Yep! I could see Lisa and the face painting," Tom confirmed, "and Quinn and Lindsey chanting with the Chinese? What was that all about?” 

     “They’re on team world,” I informed him.

     "We’re at the flame now".

    "Oh I was wondering, it's really late," He said concerned.

    I’ll call you when we get home,” I assured him, "but I don't think we'll be there until about 3:00AM"

     Exhausted, we retracing our steps when Chris started walking toward a hotel. He figured we could pick up a cab from there to our car as we didn’t know where were now in relation to where we parked.

     As we walked up Chris asked, “Hey can we call a cab from here?”

     “Um, Andrew do we call cabs for Americans?” one of the guys laughed to the other.

     “Come on now,” Lisa joined in, “It’s the only way to get us out of the country”.

     “In that case, where do you want to go?” Chris told him the cross streets. “Nope, you don’t want a cab you’re only three blocks away. If you’re tired, have the kids carry you” he smiled. “Another boy with an American flag – how many are there anyway?” We were all enjoying the good-natured rivalry trading barbs and the kids loved the attention.

     “OK everyone follow me,” Chris bellowed. It was about 1:00 in the morning by now, but strangely no one was complaining or really very tired anymore. We were again filled with excitement of the day and we knew where we were going.  Henry, Lindsey and I were separated by about a block from the rest of the group when a man jumped out of the shadows practically giving me a heart attack. He raised his hand for Henry to give a high five. I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt vulnerable and wanted to catch up with the rest of the group.

     “Mama, you know, this is the most American I’ve ever felt,” Henry said as we continued walking back to the car.

     Behind us we heard footsteps getting closer on the quiet street. I glanced behind me to see a Canadian man dressed in red and white from head to toe. He was a large guy who kept gaining on us slowly. As we were all about to cross the street he yelled with shocking venom

    “F&*@ You Kid!”  directly at Henry.I worried at what Henry would do. I didn’t want any violence. The man was obviously drunk. But Henry was only twelve, so I had no idea how he would handle the situation and there wasn’t time to discuss it. I held my breath as I saw Henry turn to the man.

     “That was nice,” he responded sweetly and walked on. I could breathe. He did have a brain in his head.

    Shaken, a bit Lindsey, Henry and I stopped to regroup once the belligerent hockey fan veered around a corner. I hugged Henry and Lindsey told him how great he'd handled the situation. Just then, Henry pulled an American flag out of some weeds in a planter. 

    "Mama look! Someone lost their flag! Can I keep it?" He asked.

    I suppose so, we're in Canada and no one's coming back for it at this hour," I relented.

    "Look it's got a signature in the stars!" He exclaimed. "I wonder whose name this is." He marveled, "Do you suppose it's an Olympian?"

    "It certainly could be," I surmised as we walked down the lonely street.

 (the yet unknown signature)
 

    We piled in the car and after filling tummies with hamburgers and fries the kids fell asleep. Lisa, Chris and I drove in silence chit chatting here and there about some of the exciting parts of the day until we got to the border. I took out the passports “1-2-where’s Lindsey’s?” I mumbled to myself as I dug into the camera bag again and pulled it out.

     The border agent asked where we’d been, shared in the glory of the hockey game and cajoled with Chris. “Welcome Home folks, have a good night,” he said as we drove through.

     “London 2012?” Chris suggested.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

February 21st Olympic Odyssey

 (Lindsey)

     Lindsey had a whole week off of school for mid-winter break and since her mother would be teaching skiing lessons at Mammoth all week she begged Awesomez to let her come to the farm.

     “Do you really think you’re up for another one of my children?” Awesomez asked me over the phone.

     “Is that some sort of warning?” I asked. “Actually, I just hope Lindsey isn’t bored. I don’t have anything big planned,” I explained.

     I went to Seattle with Nick to pick her up while my dad took Henry to gymnastics. Everyone was excited to see her, especially her brother. 

 ("The Big-un" Irish was especially happy to see Lindsey)
  (Lindsey snuggles The Big Boy - Irish)
 

During the days Lindsey helped me with farm chores and errands, during the afternoons she went to gymnastics with Henry or volleyball with Quinn and saw Nick at night.

     She saw Grandpa Horn teach band, she helped with the judging at one of Henry’s meets and she met all of Quinn’s friends. She did homework, painted and kept me company.

  (Lindsey sets to painting)
 

 (Grandpa Horn talks to the band)

 (Henry and Lindsey listen to Grandpa Horn)

 (Lindsey flips)

 (Lindsey lands)
 

 (Lindsey works with the ring judge)
  (Nick - hanging out)
 
 
     On Saturday while at Henry’s gymnastic meet, Chris turned to me and said, “We were kind of thinking of driving up to Vancouver tomorrow, you game?”

     “You want to go to the games? The tickets were $600.00 the last time we checked,” I said.

     “Well, we’d like to get into something, Lisa’s checking for some last minute deals but really we thought we just go up and soak in some Olympic atmosphere and see what we see,” he offered.

     I thought about it, I’d had plans we were finally going to try and go get Petite, but that could be postponed. Then there was the problem of Nick. He couldn’t seem to follow any of the rules at home or school so he was not going to be allowed to join us. And then I wasn’t sure if Lindsey even had her passport. We couldn’t go without Lindsey. Luckily, Lindsey’s brilliant mother had the foresight to pack her passport. We were good to go.

     The next morning, we met the Donaldson clan at Nugent’s Corner and all piled into their van. Henry had hurriedly painted red U-S-A posters to take with us “just in case”. The paint was still wet so we put them on the dashboard to dry and headed north.

     Crossing into Canada is one of my least favorite things to do, but if we wanted to go to the Olympics, we had no choice. I prepared the kids. “Now remember, these people have not one ounce of humor in their bodies. You don’t kid, joke or in any way say something sarcastic. Don’t get nervous, just speak if you’re spoken to, don’t add any information, just answer the question being asked”. I instructed.

     “And don’t forget your name!” Lisa added.

     “What?” Lindsey questioned.

     “Henry got so nervous once, he forgot his name,” Quinn informed her.

     “It was just enough of a hesitation for the guy to think I’d kidnapped him” I said dryly, giving my child a look.

     We approached the border and took a collective breath. If the kids didn’t believe me before, they did afterward. Lindsey was grilled and questioned until she was close to a nervous wreck. She answered everything calmly as the Canadian border guard checked all the missing child reports.

     “Who makes you breakfast?” He looked at her seriously. I wondered what she was gong to say. I hadn’t really made a real breakfast.

     “She does,” Lindsey said pointing to me.

     “Do you know her name?” He asked seriously.I worried she was going to forget my name.

     “Denise,” Lindsey answered. Whew.

     “Do you have a note from the mother?” He asked me.

     “No. I don’t, but she did provide the passport,” I offered.

     “You see where I’m going with this?” He asked.

     “Yes Sir and I’d be glad you were asking these questions if it was my child,” I said knowing I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but feeling as though I somehow looked guilty.

     “Do you have any proof of your flight?” He asked. And with all the excitement of a contestant on “Let’s Make a Deal.” Lindsey answered

     “Yes! I have my airline ticket!” She searched her pursed and offered him her ticket. He let us pass.

     "That was certainly the golden ticket, it’s what tipped the scales in our favor. Way to go Lindsey,” Chris praised her.

     “You handled that beautifully,” Lisa added, “Denise do you make breakfast?”

    “I know, I was wondering if Cheerios™ and bagels counted,” I smirked.

     “It’s a good thing you warned me,” Lindsey said depleted.

     From there we made our way onto the King’s Highway and set our course.

     “How long until we get there?” Phoebe asked somewhat predictably.

     “I have no idea, Honey. You act as though I’ve been there. We’re just figuring it out as we go,” Chris informed her as the glare of Henry’s USA posters baked in the sunshine reflecting on the windshield.

  (Henry's U S A sign reflecting)
 

    We parked and joined the party that was Vancouver. Walking down the packed streets you could feel the goodwill. We formed a buddy system, I took pictures of the kids in what they were wearing – just in case – and we set up our if-you-get-lost plan.

  (Canada hats)
 

    “Look there’s Italy!” Henry called out.

 (Italy)
 

     “And Russia!” Lindsey yelled as she saw a red jacket walk by.

 

     “I want one of those USA hats,” Phoebe announced.

     “I want a pin,” Lisa said, “I didn’t get one in ’84 when I went to the equestrian events and I really want one this time”.

     “I want tickets to an event,” Henry insisted. “I don’t care what it is, I just want to go to something”. And so did I. So Lisa, Henry, Phoebe and I took up the hunt as Quinn, Lindsey and Chris meandered slowly captivated by the street carnival. Every time I turned around I couldn’t help but count the kids. I felt like I was on a field trip.

 (Bronze-colored street performer)

 (Broadcast booth in Robson Square)

 (Free zip line over the city - 6 hour wait)

 (Zip line launch next to the flag)

 (painted Canadians)

 (a building in Vancouver)

 (flags fly everywhere)

 (the Dutch)

 (Olympic mascot)

 (Lindsey clowns)

 
 
  (Sweden)

 (Nike™)

 (yeah for our team)

 (the private family entrance for competitors relatives - dreams were being dreamed)
 
 
  (Henry, Lindsey, Quinn, and Phoebe)

 (Vancouver 2010)
 
 
  (Everyone has spirit)

 

 (Henry, me, Phoebe, Lisa, Quinn and Chris)
 
 
       “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?” I asked.

         “I’m right here,” she said practically under my arm.

         Not knowing where we were going, we followed the crowd across Vancouver in a hurried pace. We didn’t know where but we knew we had to get there soon if we wanted tickets. Henry approached every scalper he passed, but they were mostly buying not selling.

     “Your mother would be crying by now,” I told Lindsey as she caught up.

     “I know, right? She’d still be back at the car. She walks so slowly,” Lindsey said laughing.

     “I’m so happy to hear you use an adverb,” I gushed.

     “You’re such a teacher,” Lindsey smirked as we were in a half jog along the street.

     “Why are we going so fast?” Lindsey asked.

     “’Cause we might miss something.”

 (en route to the ticket office) (Blast we were behind Captain Canada)
 

     Lisa, Phoebe, Henry and I broke into a run, moving ahead of the pack as we approached the Olympic ticket window. I knew my sister and we both were thinking these people walking near us might oust us out of our potential Olympic experience. We got to the line and eventually to the window.

     “Is there anything? Anything within a modest budget?” she asked the ticket agent. “We need seven seats”.

     “Seven? Wow. Let me look”. And she looked and she looked and we waited anxiously. “I have seven seats to women’s curling tonight”.

     “Curling,” Lisa turned to the kids now surrounding us, “Do you guys want to go to curling? Should we spend the money?”

     “Hell Yes!! I’ll go to anything,” Henry yelled. 

    "Henry you gave up swearing for Lent," I reminded him.

    "Is Hell a swear word?"

    "YES!" Lindsey said.

     “I don’t know anything about it, but I’m up for curling,” Quinn agreed.

     “Is that the one where they use the little brooms?” Phoebe asked.

     “Yes, it is, does that sound ok?”

     “Sure it’s the Olympics,” Phoebe agreed.

     “I’m with Henry I’ll go to anything,” Lindsey answered.

     “Heck yeah, whooo! hooo! Curling!!! Let’s do it!” Chris cheered in great zeal. As we stood there basking in our Olympic triumph we noticed a family standing nearby somewhat despondent. They obviously didn’t get any tickets.  Noticing them, Lisa walked up and tried to help.

     “Did you try getting seats for curling?” Lisa asked the woman. As it turned out they were from Orcas Island and no she hadn’t tried curling. So she got back in line and scored 5! Happily, we all struck up a conversation before departing for the curling match? Curling meet? Curling game? Curling event? Or curling tournament? We weren’t sure.

  (proof we are really going)

 (Lisa at the ticket office)
 
     Tickets in hand we were a bit more relaxed and ready to learn about curling. After riding a train packed like a sardine the Canadian equivalent of BART where I counted at every stop, “1-2-3-where’s Lindsey?”

     “I’m right here,” she said.

  (On the train after it thinned)

 (Lindsey and Phoebe walk and walk)

 (pretty Vancouver)
 
  (Lindsey and Henry- ready to order)
 
      We stopped at a Chinese restaurant for dinner where the kids had their own chopstick freestyle event commentated by the Amazing Donaldson. Afterward we set out walking the rest of the distance to the stadium. I was certainly getting all my steps in for Weight Watchers I thought.

     “You won’t believe it, but a cabbie just asked me where the stadium is,” Chris laughed as we all continued walking. We walked and we walked and we walked first down a busy street and then into a residential neighborhood. There nary a sign marking the route. If it hadn’t for the rest of the curling crowd we never would have found it.

 (Quinn, Phoebe, Lindsey and Lisa on the move)
 

 (lots of details)
 

 (security screening)

 (we're in!)

 (The Chinese are ready for curling)
 

    Excitedly we went in and found our seats. “1-2-where’s Henry? He’s not here,” I informed the rest of the confused group.

     “He was with us at the entrance,” Lisa reminded me.

     “He’s supposed to turn his cell phone on if he’s lost,” Quinn reminded me.

     “Do you think he will?” I asked getting mine out and about to push the button.

     “No,” Quinn and Lindsey answered as we all hurried back on a sweep of the grounds. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. My father had filled me with too much child stealing information. My mind sorting through similar memories looking for a match as I ran. I remembered another time Henry had disappeared in a public place. It was in Macys when he was two. I was shopping with my friend, Laura, Phoebe’s godmother. We had just turned our heads for a moment and he was GONE. Frantically we looked, and eventually found him hiding in one of the rounders...

July 27th Abbey Road

The weekend flew by.

   Since Kristi moved in to Grandpa Horn's old apartment, she hasn't had a good night's sleep. It appears there were a few squatters already in the apartment. Kristi really didn't want to use traps or poison. This left ferret pee as the only option from what she told me. I was a little taken aback you could actually purchase ferret pee. Exactly how do they collect that? I'm thinking it's not good for the ferret. Looking for a way to make some spare change I told her I'd sell her some of Henry's. In lieu of this, I suggested we enlist the services of Emmett.

    Emmett is fierce, he runs the house and he is the only thing Irish has the good sense to be truly afraid of.

(Irish and Emmett meet in the kitchen)
  (Emmett asks that Irish bow to the king)
(Emmett begins to turn his back in disdain)
(Irish realizes he is supposed to do the full body bow which seems to satisfy Emmett- for now)

Henry packed a cat carrier poured some litter in and sent the assassin over for the night. By morning, he had presented Kristi with his prize on the kitchen counter. I would have been grossed out, but Kristi praised him as a hero and now she and Olie are sleeping just fine.

The assasin demonstrates his prowess)

   

On Saturday, Toby arrived with Dean and two bleary-eyed stowaways, Sam and his sister Kimona. Sam and Henry were like peas and carrots when they both went to Woodland Hills Elementary. So Henry begged me to beg his mother, Julie, to let him come up and stay for a few days or a few weeks or a few months or forever. We threw the lovely Kimona in for good measure and it’s a good thing; Kimona was the only one who helped me feed the animals in the morning while the two boys stood around grinning and punching each other.

(Evil Evelyn has a party out in the pasture with a couple of deer - Abe and Andy join in - my neighbors wave to her, but the deer are unimpressed)

   Toby and Dean only spent the night on the way back to Canada after working on a few episodes of “Monk”.  They took off just after breakfast. She was heading to Trader Joes™ to stock up on some goodies before crossing the border and catching the ferry back to Vancouver Island. She called after crossing the border and you know my feelings about he border. It had taken her over an hour and forty-five minutes. I thought she was calling to complain about the international red tape. To my complete surprise, she was calling me to tell Canada had given her two weeks to pack up her house and leave the country. The whole thing is very complicated, but the long and the short of it is – she and her husband were on work permits. Their farm isn’t doing well financially, so she left the country to “work”, however she’s not allowed to get another job. It gets complicated, but Canada feels that despite the fact their not really earning money they are “working” on the farm and that permit has expired – anyway there are other factors, but in the end, none of it matters. I think we were both in shock.
(child labor- Kimona, Sam and Henry)

    Back here, we all walked around in a daze reeling from Toby’s news and wondering where they’ll go and what they'll do. They won’t have time to sell their house or anything. We’d have to think about that later, we had to get a round bale down the cows. We all thought it would be a little tricky because it was unwrapped, but we wound chicken wire around the bale and the four of us, Sam, Kimona, Henry and I pushed the bale over and got it loaded.

(taking a break-) (Henry and Sam hitch a ride with Lu)

(Kimona gets to know Abe, Andy & Anna)

(Sam learns the meaning of "dialing" a number- shocked and confused, he asks for help)

    The rest of the day was clearing out the attic, feeding the cows’ cookies, and laughing at the geese. The kids went fishing with dogs while our friend Wayne worked hard all day clearing brush away so no pesky predators could get too close to our unsuspecting cougar snacks Henry, Sam, Kimona and Quinn.

July 1st On The Road Again

(they glitter gold in the sunshine)

   

Toby has been working away on Monk these past few weeks and has been offered yet another episode. The money’s good and the surroundings familiar, so she’s taking the gig, but she misses her son, Dean terribly. To remedy this, Dean’s coming down from Courtenay, BC to vacation with his mama. Go to Disneyland, the movies and hangout. The only problem is getting him there.

    The plan is, Eric drives him to the ferry at Nanaimo and he takes it to Horseshoe Bay where Henry and I pick him up and drive him to our house. In the morning, Mike comes and drives him to SeaTac where he will take a flight to Burbank where Toby Ann will be waiting with open arms. Clearly, there is a lot that can go wrong with this plan.

    First, Eric missed the ferry – it seems he didn’t realize he needed to get gas and didn’t leave early enough. Secondly, he didn’t check the ferry schedule and so Dean was not leaving until we thought he was arriving. This didn’t seem tragic – at first – it simply meant the boys would have less time together and they get to paint as many fence boards that I’d planned for them to paint. Lately, I’ve really gotten into child labor.

Meanwhile back at the farm, I was trying to take care of business, paying bills etc. I opened the mail and almost had a heart attack. It was a notice from the Department of Licensing telling me my driver’s license would be suspended in August. WHAT?! It claimed that when I got a speeding ticket on Mother’s Day that I never responded. I about had a breakdown. I didn’t deserve the speeding ticket, as I was going the speed limit. I did respond to the ticket and went to the court to request a court date. I found out the officer said I was on a different road than I was actually on. I told this all to the woman at the Department of Licensing. She humored me, but clearly didn’t believe me. She told me I could fax a letter to the judge requesting my license not be revoked. WHAT?! I explained again. She put me on hold for about ten minutes.

    “I looked into your ticket and it seems you're correct. You did request a court date, but it was given to another woman with the same name.” WHAT?!

    “I see.” I responded calmly. “Now what do I do to rectify all of this?”

    “Nothing. I’ve handled it. You’ll receive a court date in the mail.”

    “I don’t have to write a letter?”

    “No.”

    “May I have. .. “ Click. She hung-up.

    Completely shaken and upset at the injustice in the world and my victimization, I picked up my keys, camera, passports and told Henry we had to leave to get Dean. I didn’t want to be late.

As we drove, I thought of Barbara, she told me I had to change my attitude about Canada. Perhaps, I’d gotten off on the wrong foot. After all, years ago when I traveled with my mother, I remember meeting many Canadians in Europe and we always struck up lovely conversations. I was in my twenties and I remember I could spot them in a crowd. They were the only other women wearing nail polish other than Americans, at that time I was sporting acrylics.

(Sumas Border Crossing)

    So, as I drove up to the border I decided I would enjoy this picture postcard country and start over. The woman who checked our passports was terse, but not obnoxious – so far so good. We were making good time as Henry watched “Star Trek” in the backseat.

We knew we were going to be quite early, because Toby called and told us Dean’s new arrival time, but I didn’t want to stop before we got there. He’d be alone if we didn’t arrive in time. I called Lisa to verify my route to Horseshoe Bay as Toby was called to shoot a scene. I asked her to call up the Google Map just in case I ran into trouble. My “navi”, which we call Loretta, doesn’t work in Canada. Tom’s looked into getting me another version, but so far we haven’t wanted to spend the money. No matter, Lisa handled it without much trouble.

We were definitely headed correctly. You simply follow the Maple Leaf to Horseshoe Bay. Today, we noticed quickly is Canada Day. The country seemed joyous and today seemed like a good day for new starts.

We traveled along without interruption until we came to a tunnel. We sat in the tunnel for over an hour and a half. I heard all about the making of Star Trek. I know that Dr. Spock was intended to be red, Captain Kirk’s character is based on a combination of Hamlet and Captain Horatio Hornblower, Scotty didn’t really have an accent and Spock’s ears were almost monster ears but for the foresight of the make-up artist who went around the reluctant network. I now know more about Star Trek than some Trekkies. The traffic didn’t move. We inched forward as I studied the tile. I wondered why so much effort was put into a monochromatic pattern few people would notice at normal speeds. Did this happen often? We started out early and now we were almost late. People were getting out of their cars and walking around. But no one seemed to know what was happening because there wasn’t any reception in the long tunnel.

When we finally emerged from our prison I noticed we only moved a car length at a time. The bridge up ahead was completely empty in both directions. We couldn’t figure it out. We rolled down the windows and asked the punk in the car next to us.

“My ex-girlfriend is going to jump. They’ve closed the bridge.” He callously laughed jiggling his sunglasses.
I rolled up the window. Henry was incredulous. “Is his girlfriend really going to jump?”

“No. Honey. He’s making a joke. There must be someone who’s threatening to jump on the bridge.”

“Why would he say that then? Why would he laugh? It’s not funny, someone might die. Someone is so sad she might jump and he’s laughing? He’s a creep.”

I called Toby to update her on our lack of progress, but she must have been shooting a scene. I left a message. I didn’t know the ferry name, or if Dean had a cell phone or what else to do.

As we came to the front of the line I tried to ask the workman which direction I should head to Horseshoe Bay as I had to pick up my friend’s child.

“Lady, just get off and figure it out.” He barked. Canadians are so friendly.

I got off, Henry called Lisa and I stopped at the first gas station I saw. The men behind the counter gave me a fast list of streets and turns I should take to get to Lionsgate Bridge, the only alternate route. I wrote it down on a receipt and got in the car. Glanced at the time again and almost couldn’t breathe. Dean arrived twenty minutes ago. I had to just get there as fast as I could.

The directions, the men gave me were wrong and we were thoroughly lost and I was completely frustrated and overwhelmed with a child standing there waiting for us. Henry said Dean most likely had his GameBoy™ and didn’t even notice we were late.

(tour of the city) “Now if his battery dies, his whole world will implode, but until then we’re good.”

Oddly, this calmed me down slightly. Henry dialed the phone and barked directions being relayed from Lisa as she found the city map on the Internet. We were living a giant video game. I turned down streets that were dead ends and Lisa re-routed me. We went through Historic China Town, passed Gucci and saw the Vancouver Museum of Art. Thwarting me at every turn were the Canadians. They don’t adhere to pedestrian instructions. They simply walk in front of your car as if it isn’t a weapon of death and destruction. I started wondering if they’d run, but I kept my composure.

“Mom! They’re going to bolt across the street again watch out!”

Toby called, she'd gotten my message and reached the ferry security. They'd found Dean and would keep him until I arrived. Everyone was aware of the jumper. I relaxed a little.

    Under normal circumstances, Vancouver is probably a lovely city. There are beautiful parks, interesting architecture and gorgeous scenery. On the other hand, being lost in Vancouver is like being lost in Century City or Beverly Hills. There are lots of people, tall buildings, honking cars, shiny BMWs swerving impatiently from one lane to another. I suddenly felt like a girl who belonged on the farm. Oh, I could do this, but I didn’t want to.

(Historic Chinatown) (Art Museum) (Driving through the city) Sitting in standstill traffic is not un-familiar to me. I likened this to when PCH is shutdown and you have to go Sepulveda. We sat and sat and inched forward. Two and a half hours later we got Dean.

Unfortunately, the way back was just as arduous as the “jumper” was still on the bridge.  Like too many rats in a cage, people were going crazy tired of waiting they were completely abandoning the rules of the road. Luckily, as I drove in a foreign country, I was grateful to have a valid driver's license.

    We had to make our way back, Henry had to get out and pee in some bushes because there wasn’t anything else we could do. The man in the next car who was by my side for hours laughed. I felt a kind of kinship to him after a time. Luckily, Henry’s a boy. Just like a Canadian, he made his way through traffic back to the car. Once in, he pondered what he’d have done if he were Quinn.

(Back through China Town) “She’d have some perve looking at her.” I was glad he was beginning to understand the plight of the female. As we crossed the bridge, I nodded goodbye to my Canadian friend.

Four hours after collecting Dean, we finally arrived at the US border. Without a note from Toby, it proved challenging. As a mother, I was appreciative of their caution. We'd just about answered all his questions, but the agent wanted to go over things just one more time.

“So he’s going to see his mother in Los Angeles.”

“Yes.”

“And where’s his father?” He asked pointing to Henry.

“Los Angeles.” He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“No. They’re not together.” He laughed.

The agent then decided to ask the boys all sorts of questions including their favorite video games and finally determined we were a benign group doing just as we claimed to be doing. He waved us on.

As we passed flourishing American cornfields the sight soothed me. “Almost knee-high by the fourth of July” It was only the first, but I officially gave up on my cornfield and pumpkin patch scheme. It just wasn’t going to happen this year. I haven’t had a drop of rain since Pea left and my plants haven’t even germinated. The pumpkin seeds say they’ll last two to three years so I’ll just hold on to them

 In the final stretch on Mosquito Lake Road, the boys complained of empty stomachs and we were discussing farm chores when I had to hit the brakes hard.

“What the heck? Mom, what happened?”

“That bunny hopped right in front of my car.”  I pointed, without hesitation Henry rolled down the window and screamed,

“What are you? Canadian?!”

August 28th Peace Be With You

 Taking Henry to the airport in Vancouver, BC, seemed like an easy enough thing to do. I just needed our passports and directions. I had Marie’s cell phone, so we’d call her when we got close. No problem. I guess I was nervous because we got there very early. I got a Starbucks™ and changed some money. Then we went to the underground parking and watched a few "MacGyver" episodes in the car before we went to the gate. We met up with Marie and then off they went through security. They just walked through, Henry carrying his orange suitcase wearing his orange socks.  Download tangerine_socks2.doc . They were talking and laughing as they disappeared beyond security.  I just stood there. Tears welled up in my eyes. I knew he’d be fine, but suddenly he was gone and I felt so alone. I made my way back to the car trying to keep my head down so no one would see the tears streaming down my face. I felt ridiculous, but so sad. In the car it was even worse - I didn’t have to remind him not to kick my seat or to buckle up.
   
    Now, I just had to cross the border. The line was awful; they’re doing work on the Peace Arch crossing to prepare for the Olympics in 2010






and so everything is backed up. Henry called me from Marie’s cell phone and I felt better. I sat in line for almost an hour before it was my turn. I pulled up and the humorless man started asking me why I’d gone to Vancouver etc. I answered all the questions until he asked me “…and how many horses do you have?” Huh? I told him I didn’t own any horses. He told me I was lying. What? Lying to a border agent, are you kidding me? He said I had horses. I said I didn’t. I couldn’t figure out why he was so insistent. He told me to pull to the side and agents searched my car. I could feel my cheeks getting hot. What had I done? He finally asked me again how many horses I had. I said again I didn’t have any horses. He asked me to explain why I had hay in my car. I felt triumphant. “Because I have goats,” I said hotly. He waved me on. Once I was out of sight, I sped away with the reckless abandon of Kasey Kahne. I was really going to enjoy Henry's vacation . 

August 1st Land That I Love

 This morning I drove to Canada. I’d arranged with Toby that I’d pick up Dean from camp at noon, drive to Horseshoe Bay, get his passport and bring him back with me to play with Henry. And give Toby and Eric a childfree week.

    It was a bit strange driving in Canada. I felt different. I felt like I had a bright neon sign on the top my car that said AMERICAN.

    Kilometers-Shmemometers. Now, I’ve taught the metric system for years to fifth graders and I know how much more logical it is, but c’mon, give me an old fashioned mile any day. A mile has more romance. You’re supposed to walk a mile in his shoes, not a kilometer.

    I have to say, though, the place looks like one huge gorgeous postcard. Everywhere you look there are amazing mountains and sapphire blue bays; the landscape is stunning. Having lived in flat-as-a-pancake Minnesota for a while, I greatly appreciate the striking beauty. But give me a field of wheat and the good old U-S-of-A thank you very much.

    Crossing the border is always unnerving whether it’s to Mexico or Canada. You wait and wait and wait in line and then as you drive up to the window the border guard somehow immediately makes you feel like an international smuggler. You find yourself babbling on as if you’re hiding something, which you aren’t, but you feel you must be. These are not funny people. He or she never cracks a smile. When you finally finish running the gauntlet and get to the other side and drive off there is an amazing sense of freedom.

    Incredibly, this time as I crossed the border with a redheaded child that looks nothing like me, the guard didn’t even ask to see our passports. Hmmm.