Paint pots?

I haven't blogged much in the last year. Everything seemed to be not really blog-worthy after my trip to India. I don't mean that life is boring or I'm depressed or anything, but it seemed like my occasional Facebook statuses were enough. Then I realized that I LIKE blogging and my Facebook updates can easily be short and sweet blogs. 

Anyhow, I am going to try to be a little more on the ball.

We went to Calgary the other day, for hubby's semiannual visit with his doctor. Since we have to stay at least one night, we try and find something interesting to do while we're there. Shopping is not it. I'd sooner shoot myself in the foot than have to spend time in a mall.  By the time all the doctor stuff is done it's around dinner time, so we find somewhere fun to eat and then go to a show. It's like date-night for seniors. Early dinner....early show.....early to bed.

This time we found a sweet little Filipino place in a strip mall in an industrial area. Steven is not a hugely  adventurous eater, plus he has a lot of dietary restrictions, but once he realized that almost every culture has some type of noodle or pasta or dumpling , he has become less fearful of "foreign foods". 

I had tiger prawns and taro root deepfried in a rice wrapper with an orange-citrus sort of dipping sauce, and he had a seafood noodle type of pho. Of course I had desert, which was a layered fruit concoction. The bottom was like a frozen granular coconut ice, surrounded with tiny red beans (the sweet kind), strips of a white mango, a green jellied something, and a diced selection of something else. It was all topped with a  purple and white ice-cream. I tried a bite of each item (all tasty!) and the waitress must have seen me because she rushed over and explained that "You can-must mix all together and eat" So I did and it was glorious! 

Then we went to the show (Oceans 8 for those who are curious, I thought it was enjoyable, I love a good heist movie)

Next morning we had no doctor visits, so we headed out and decided to stop somewhere in the park for a hike. The park, for my non-local friends, is Banff and Kootenay National Parks, we have to drive through both on our way to Calgary.

I've always been curious as to the sign for The Paint Pots, so we decided to make that our stop. The weather was warm, but rain was called for and the sky was gray so we didn't want to go too far, and this sounded perfect as it was only 1.5 km each way.

From the website:

"The Ktunaxa (formerly Kootenay), as well as the Stoney and Blackfoot tribes, collected ochre here for important ceremonies and for trade. The yellow ochre was cleaned, kneaded with water into walnut sized balls, then flattened into cakes and baked. The red powder was mixed with fish oil or animal grease to paint their bodies, tipis, clothing or pictures on the rocks. These paintings depicted many objects from day to day life as well as more abstract drawings that may have originated in dreams or represented supernatural beings. The Paint Pots site is still considered a sacred site by First Nations today. Please treat it with respect - stay on the trail and do not remove the ochre."

The walk up was beautiful. You leave the parking lot and walk thru a wooded path towards the river and then cross over.

After the bridge you continue thru the forest on a well marked path, but then as you get closer to the pots, the path becomes muddy and narrow and a small, but rapid stream runs along beside you.

There are three "pots". Two larger ones look swampy, not in a bad way, they're quite pretty and it doesn't seem odd that they are always there....like any swamp. But the smaller one looks like a giant mud puddle and it's pretty astounding that it's been there for hundreds of years. Why it doesn't dry up is amazing. There must be a tiny spring underneath.

I took a few photos, stopped and chatted with a couple from Japan who were entranced by

a grouse who was standing in the path, looking dense, as grouse do. They were SO excited

to see it, as they knew all about Grouse Mountain, and their  hotel was called The Grouse Mountain Inn. 

We saw a fair amount of wildlife this trip. Lots of deer of course, and a flock of turkey vultures, about a dozen of them all in a row, sitting on fence posts. That was kind of creepy. Then a small mountain sheep, a baby, running down the middle of the highway, hopefully he found his mama and didn't get run over. A red fox, standing on the side of the road, waiting to cross,  and this fellow:

 

Then we came back, crossed back over the river, stopping first to wash all the ochre off of our shoes. The spring run-off must be done as the water was like glass. This is about 18 inches deep, but so, so clean, it looks like it's only an inch. The point being, I put my muddy shoe in to rinse the bottom and instantly got soaked up to my ankle. Good thing we were on our way home. 

Anyhow, that was that. Made the best out of a necessary trip and had some fun. We do live in a 

pretty  awesome part of the country. 

The Unread Christie by Norma Seibenhaller

I caught the bug at twenty six

By thirty was quite bitten

You might say I was in a fix

You might say I was smitten

It was Miss Marple snared me first

(as could have been predicted)

And soon, for better or for worse 

I was indeed addicted.

Hercule Poirot, the Beresfords too 

Became my favorite friends 

I followed all their exploits through

to neatly tied up ends.

I learned to look for subtle hints

Clues dropped amongst the knitting

Murderers painted in innocent tints

And victims, all unwitting.

From Styles to old St. Mary Mead 

From Egypt to the Isthmus

'Twas great adventure, each new read

'Twas the Night-Before-Agatha-Christmas

I know I failed to face the fact

It all would end someday

What I would do then, how I'd act,

I just refused to say.

I kept on jumping round about 

'Twixt murder, crime and mystery

Lost in a web of suspicion and doubt

Engulfed in Agatha Christery.

But now the unread stock did shrink

New ones were hard to find.

I panicked-couldnt even think!

I feared I'd lose my mind.

There weren't too many left, I knew

No more would join the list

All that remained for me to do

Was find the few I'd missed

I marked them off, then, one by one

Three left, then two-one-NO!

I couldn't let the thing be done...

I put the book down-so-

I have it still, and still unread 

Unopened in my drawer

It lives, where all the rest are dead

Mysterious no more.

I treasure it, like something rare

And muse about it wistfully

What devious puzzles hide in there?

All woven so Agatha Christfully?

The title, now- what might it mean?

Who will the villain be?

What house will figure in the scene?

Will everyone have tea?

Will I see the light before the end?

Will I even see a flicker?

Can I guess whodunit? No, my friend

But I know it's not the vicar.

Should I read- and cease to speculate-

My dreams would be diminished

It's more fun to anticipate

Than partake and then be finished.

The book's a symbol now, a token,

Like an eagle or a thistle 

Gleaming, bright, intact, unbroken

My jewel! My Agatha Crystal!

Eyes Only

The Man in Black belongs to me.

So in 1979 or thereabouts, I belonged to the Stephen King fan club. In those days kids, we got letters and updates via actual postal mail. We'd have to wait, oh so impatiently, for the end of the month and hope that our newsletter would be reasonably on time. That was how I first heard about "The Gunslinger". It sounded magical and I couldn't wait to read it. I raced to the library first, and needless to say, it was not in the card catalogue (there were no computers kiddies, just fabulous huge cabinets with a multitude of drawers with each drawer containing hundreds of cards; a card for each book, telling you where it was. One needed to know the Dewey Decimal System and I'm pretty sure we learned it in school) I know some of you weren't even born 35 years ago and maybe haven't ever heard of the Dewey Decimal System, but it's still in use today, sort of. Anyhow, reminiscing will be another story for another day.

So the library was no help to me, nor was the book store I had to phone. Fernie didn't have a book store, and the one in Cranbrook insisted that there was no such book. I knew it was out there somewhere, but my avenues were all exhausted. All two of them. 

A couple of years go by and during this time, Stephen King wrote 4 sequels to The Gunslinger, and none were available to me. However...in 1982 Mr. King decided to publish all five of the short stories into one novel called The Dark Tower - The Gunslinger.  I am now the owner of a (first edition I might add) book that would end up drawing me into its world for the next 35 years. Yes, 35 years!

I waited for 5 years for the second book to be published, during which time I re-read the first one over and over. Five years! These days authors crank out books every year, and if you're James Patterson maybe every month. (The man is nothing if not prolific)

So now I have two books. The years go by and each time a new book is released, I re-read all the previous ones again. In 2004 the last book was released. Three words. Worst. Ending. Ever. 

I can't even think about it. In the 13 years since then I have re-read the series a multitude of times, but only as far as the last half of the last book. I've made up my own ending and I will never read the end of the last book again. To be fair, Stephen King did warn his Constant Readers that they could either finish reading now, or continue to the end of the book. I continued. Big Error.

During the years between his first book, Carrie, in 1973,  and Sleeping Beauties, which will be released this September, I have purchased every one of his books. I'm the proud owner of a first edition of every one of them. They are quite literally some of the things I'd save in a fire. I reread them often, and I find new things every single time. There is something about his writing style that moves me and transports me.  

In 2012, Stephen (because I feel we are on a first name basis by this point) released another book that belonged to the Dark Tower series and "fits" between "Wizard and Glass" (book 4) and "Wolves of the Calla" (book 5), which makes it book 4.5. Awesome idea! (It's called "Wind through the Keyhole" in case you need to go and buy it)

Also, as his aficionados already know, all his books have a reference to another of his books, and all his books have a reference to The Dark Tower. Sometimes just a word or a name, or sometimes a huge connection. They all tie together somewhere....even ones that seem like a whole different genre such as "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption" and "The Body". What kind of a genius is he anyhow?  As a matter of fact, there is a woman in Australia who has made a Stephen King Universe Flowchart showing how all his books are interconnected in some way, be it large or small. She is a King fan's  Most Admirable Person.  Umm, if any of you reading this would care to purchase this for me, I'd  be most appreciative. Really...I'd owe you forever. So, it's on Etsy, thanks so much. Let me know when it arrives.

So, all this leads up to the Dark Tower movie. Thirty Five years since I first read that iconic line "The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed".  How am I going to react when I hear it in the theatre? Will I cry and get all goose-bumply? It's likely that I will you know. But who will say it? Who is going to be the voice over? Will it be Stephen himself? He is like Alfred Hitchcock in such as he almost always has a tiny cameo or picture of himself in his movies.  Will they even say that line? I've heard rumours that the movie isn't even going to start at that point. Well, that's discouraging. Or is it?

I've spent 35 years with images of Roland, Randall, Susannah, Jake and Eddie in my mind. I know what they look like and how they sound. I can't imagine seeing them looking like...I don't know...Matthew McConaughy? Do I even want to see the movie? I mean, some of his movies and adaptations are not even worthy of being on late night TV ("The Mangler" anyone? )what if this is one of them? Or what if it's awesome and everyone loves it? And then I'll feel jealous and possessive because I feel like it belongs to me. Me, and a few others who have read and reread and love that world. Bah to those who are jumping on the bandwagon at this late date.

Anyhow, that's my take on it all.

And oh, the first line, written June 19, 1970 was "The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed" and the last line, written April 7, 2004....3699 pages later is "The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed." 

Talk about a circle.

Don't discuss religion or politics!

That was the rule for years and years...don't discuss religion or politics at a public gathering. Invited for dinner? Discuss the weather. Discuss your children. Invited to a party? Discuss the weather. Discuss the neighbour's children. Invited to a workplace function? Discuss the weather. Discuss the boss's children. How 'bout them Knicks? Are you watching "The Walking Dead"?

In a sense, I can see why. Both issues can be touchy and sensitive, and some folks just can't handle criticism and/or differing opinions. Some people are afraid of anything different than what they grew up accepting. And nothing is worse than listening to people arguing with other people, when none of them have the least intention of changing their minds.

Personally, I hardly ever discuss politics because I find it fairly boring. I'm not a tried and true member of any party, I vote faithfully, but I vote for someone depending on their platform during the election, not on what party they belong to. I don't necessarily vote the same as my husband, I think voting is an extremely personal choice. End of discussion. I'm not here to argue, but just sayin.....

India....on the way out...

So this was the last day, and a long drive back to Delhi. When we arrived there, we dropped off a couple who were heading flying home a different route, so now we are 9. Then we dropped off yet another couple who were continuing on to Bhutan so now we are 7. We had a loooong wait in the Delhi airport and then a flight to Guangzhou, China, where we had another long wait.

Luckily one of my travel friends had some yen so we could splurge on a McDonalds coffee,

And some unusual ice cream treats. 

I can say I've eaten in China, I guess.  

Another loooong flight to Vancouver, and yet another wait and then home. I'm not ready for it to be over. I'm one of those who could travel forever. I'm already planning a trip 15 months from now, but I need something between then and now. Anyone got any ideas? I'm always game to go.

But I still have lots of pictures to post.....here's some arches and pillars and doorways:

And some people.....

And some odds and ends.

There are as many dogs roaming around as there are cows. Oddly, no cats. 

Like I mentioned before, for a land so full of people, I was surprised to be able to find so many quiet spots.

So from scenes like those to scenes like these:

And to everything in between:

(Looking for rum at a local liquor store)

I have to say thank you my friend, for showing me your India.