My Three Sons

Gordon, Becca, Alex and David 2011

Gordon 2010

Alex with Alan on Columbia River Flatlands

David on Spring Moon February 2011

In August of 2013,  my sons, Gord, David and Alex joined me at Anderson Lake for two weeks to install a new roof on our cabin.  The crew was led by our eldest son, Gord, and assisted by his friend, Steve, a contractor each of my sons had worked with at various renovation sites over the years.  Gord's good friend, Bill joined us from Calgary.  Gordon had spent the previous four months cooking the whole plan up, and he and Steve calculated the costs, the materials and executed the transition from tearing off the old shakes to cutting the tin (always on a diagonal).  It was an ear-splitting task using a skill saw and ear protection, as well as goggles and gloves. They had to cut each and every saw-fit individually, and custom cut all of the eaves and fachia board as well. The cabin is an octagonal times two. One octagonal for the living space and another for the master bedroom.  Two giant umbrella roofs joined together with a flat roof covering the hall between. There isn't a right angle in the whole structure, inside or out. The job took well over a month, so youngest son, David stayed on with Steve to finish it up. For David, the line 'Blood, Sweat & Tears', took on new meaning.  It was a hot summer and working on a tin roof was hotter still, but the roof went on, and the cabin is much improved as a result.  No more leaks coming through dried up cedar shingles, and an added bonus is aesthetic, an eave around the cabin where none existed before.  I hated the old roof line, and was beyond ecstatic to see it go.  We choose deep red for the color of the tin and the fascia board, and we love the results.  Yahoo!!!

New deep red tin roof

Respite inside.  A haven.

Our Jewel.  Outside on the deck over-looking Anderson Lake

Before any work could begin on the roof, Gord, Steve and Alex had to set the new mooring buoy for Sasperella.

Huckleberry Finn style

And it's not coming back up...

Now the real work could begin...

And we all rejoice in the tranquility of our cabin paradise.

Hawk in Coal Harbor, A Tribute.

This past summer I had a short but sweet love affair with a very special man. Meet Bob McKnight.   This entry is my photo essay of Bob's passion for wooden boats, in particular, Hawk, a 49' wooden racing sloop  designed by William Roue, of Bluenose  fame and built in 1929.  A Canadian sailing icon on  the Westcoast, Hawk was in dire need of repair and Bob took on the job with the intention of returning her to her former glory.  The restoration began in the dead cold of winter, on the hard in a North Vancouver shipyard, replacing one rotten plank after the next.  A close friend of Bob's, Jan, who worked side by side with Bob on this job, mid-way through the grueling work grabbed Bob by the shirt collar (yes, she is a very powerful woman) and told him, through clenched teeth, IF HE EVER FUCKING TOOK ON ANOTHER JOB LIKE THIS AGAIN SHE"D KILL HIM.  Unquote.  Physically it would be akin to pushing a large bolder uphill with a toothpick. Twelve to thirteen hour days, seven days a week.  After steaming the oak planks, fitting them,  recaulking and sanding (imagine holding a long board covered in sandpaper over your head and moving it back and forth, then repeat motion 3,000 times),  they painted the hull Electric Blue, a deep, dark stately color that befits her elegant lines.  A marine rich yellow line engraved in the length of her hull enhances her sheer line, and Jan's painstaking care on her topsides brightwork polished her off. The result? Stunningly beautiful. Sheer elegance.

On a brilliant sunny day in August, 2014, Bob brought Hawk into the mast tower at the Vancouver Rowing Club to step her mast. 

Tough Dude

Loving father: Bob working out plan with his son, Will.

Hosting the mast from the tower pulley

Rick prepping Hawk

Adding the spreaders. Bob's crew: David, Bob, Rick and Bob's son, Will.

David guiding the mast to the deck

Stepping mast on top of the keel

And they do!

Celebrating success with a beer

Bob, bringing in Hawk To Step Her Mast, 2014

Jan on her restored gill netter/ river boat, Vesta. 

 

The End

  Tranquility.  Tender Series.  More to come...

                                             Meet Rose.

Rose was already featured in an earlier photo sitting in my car wearing what looked to be laser luminescent goggles of an ungodly green color.  That's Rose. Full of surprises, mostly of my invention.  Rose is, really, at heart, a straight shooter.  I've been tempted many times to change her name to Earnestina.  I am pretty sure her serious take on life is the result of living her first year on a cattle ranch north of Cranbrooke, B.C.  As much as Rose is a diligent dog, she was no cow-puncher.  I think Rose took one look at the hooves on those gigantic bovines and decided if she wanted to have all of her teeth in her old age, she'd best get off the ranch.  So she got herself fired.  Refused to co-operate with the Boss.  Got the Boss so riled up he chased her right off the property, which is where some hiker friends of my rancher friend Margie, found her.  She was cowering (no small coincidence there) under a horse trailer miles from her tormentor.  They called him up and he admitted Rose was not working out as a herding dog, and he needed a home for her.  That's where I came into the picture.  Margie knew I had to give Caleb up, and before Caleb even saw the Zehnder Ranch and met John, I had a second dog in the back of my car. I paid that rancher $400, a peach pie (Margie's idea) and a painting of his favorite dog, Parker (Margie's idea) , for Rose.  I should have given him a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.  As it turns out, Rose is the meekest border collie in B.C., and if the meek shall inherit the Earth, it's all Rosie's.  The flip side of this is that she was so danged grateful to get off that ranch that she is willing to go to any lengths to please me.  Rose, as Margie predicted, is a very good dog.  A willing dog, a dog who is done with cowering and has taken on the role of Best Dog on Earth. Sit Rose and she sits. Come Rose and she comes. That kind of thing.  Simple but effective.  Rose has become a no-nonsense, ball-crazed, obedient model of canine compliance. She's quick, but there is also something heavy about Rose.  The rancher, Hugh, thought maybe she was retarded (How retarded can she be?  She got herself out of that god forsaken place.).  But there is something 'heavy' about Rose, in spite of her prowess at ball catching.  It's hard to put words to, but she's heavy on the lead, where all my other collies were a light touch.  She's slow to pick up on stuff, dogged once she gets it.  She reminds me of kids I knew in grade school who sat at the back of the class, didn't say much, tried to stay out of trouble, but didn't really get what school was about.  That's Rose, slow to pick up on what life has to offer.  But she's catching on, and now she plays with other dogs (didn't for a whole year) and knows what a ball is for (not a hurled projectile at her) and knows what a stick is for (not for hitting her) and has lightened up a bit.  And Rose is my mostly companion.

See how proper Rose is?  She knows well-brought -up ladies cross their legs when they sit.  Didn't even need to teach her this... she must have picked it up on her own.

Big Gord

My new (2002) Honda CRV which LOOKS LIKE BRAND NEW.

Rosie looks like a dog from Planet Zephron. Where'd she get those flashy goggles?

Thank you Big Gord.

Big Gord with his son, Gord (also my son)

I haven't introduced Big Gord to the Blog.  So much to say.. so many years.  We met in 1976, I was 23 and Gord was 22.  We both rowed for the University of Western Ontario, and we dated for a year, then moved in together while living in Vancouver, the summer of 1977.  We were married on February 18th, 1978, and our son, Gord Jr. was born on May 22nd.  As you can see from the photo, Big Gord (that's what my younger 2 sons call him) is in a wheelchair, and has been since November 1, 1977.  It has been an adventure through the years.... although I'm not sure Gord Sr. (Big Gord) would describe it that way.  Our marriage went under, but we both stayed afloat.  Barely.  There was a lot of room for growth.
 It's been 37 years since Gord's car accident, and he is one of the bravest, strongest,  kindest and most generous people on Earth. He is one of my closest friends & my biggest fan.

Mandalas

I've been painting Mandalas.  I had read about them, seen them and studied them for inclusion in my Near Eastern art history classes, but now I feel very compelled to actually create them.  When I do, I feel steadier, more composed, centered in myself and settled.  No small change.  I just finished my fourth one... but I'll begin with the first, which I posted earlier.

Christmas Mandala

oil pastel and oil paint on poster board

18" x 22"

                                                                 
                                         

Baby's Breath Mandala

Guache on wood panel

12" x 12"

Celebration of New Life Mandala

acrylic on wood panel

12" x12"

                                                                       

                                                             

New Studio / Juniper Gallery at Artisan Square on Bowen Island

I've taken a sub-lease along with Jane Dunfield, another Bowen Island artist, of Juniper Gallery, in Artisan Square. Painting and showing our work, as well as original works by Vikki Fuller (who has the  lease on this space)  and Jo Wilhems of Revelstoke.  Loving it.

'A Tenuous Hold'

acrylic on board

16 "x 20"

'Healing Mandala'

oil and oil pastel on poster board(!)

(not for sale)

(detail)

'Let's Meet At The Field and Walk To The Lake'

acrylic on board

10" x 12"

'Lead Dog: Tess, of Muskrat Ranch'

(Detail and Full Size)

guache on board

8" x 12"

'Bob'

acrylic on board

6"x 6"

'Bob's Tender'

guache on board

6" x 6"

'So Many Horizons and Each One is Beautiful'

acrylic on board

16" x 16"

'Hawk:  Bob Approaching Wharf To Step Her Mast'

(unfinished)

acrylic on board

10" x 14"

'Ghosting'

Oil pen on board

12" x 14"

'The End'

Photo