We’ve lived on the sunshine Coast for one week and one day.

So far — so good! No, so far — so really good! I like it. Having a view and looking out to the world suits me just fine.

I find unpacking to be just about as hard as packing was. Perhaps it is a bit more challenging, because what we brought — we think we really need and therefore need a place to put everything. I am hesitant to hang art work too. I don’t want to put holes in the walls, if I change my mind as to where something should go. More than anything, I want things to stay clean and clear and not get too cluttered too soon.

I have to say it was so great to have good moving boxes. We got lucky and snagged them from Marie and Rod who moved to Bowen a few months ago. The boxes also came with packing paper and I can’t tell you how grand it was to have good supplies.

It is also good that we’ve been able to pass them on. There is a Facebook FYI page for the coast here, I posted free boxes and in three days, three different people have been happy to take the boxes for their own adventure and we don’t have to figure out how to get rid of them! So great! Comes around — goes around.

So, the view is good. Really good. We do have a few power lines included in the view, but I don’t care. I am constantly looking out. We need to get good deck furniture soon, the folding chairs are okay for now, but… the eternal… I want.

This is this evenings sunset.

The house is wonderful. I feel good in it. It is built well and quiet. It also has good flow. It’s a two story house and we go up and down the stairs at least 100 times a day. The front door is downstairs, the kitchen is upstairs. Our rule of never going up or down without taking something is still in effect and seems to work well.

Downstairs, is Kens shop, my sewing room, (which will double for a guest room) the laundry and the big den like room, upstairs we both have offices, our bedroom, the living room and kitchen.

Peet is doing well. He has to go up and down stairs for the kitty box and he is 100% close to the box every time! ☺

Besides living in a super pretty place, the community is nice too. When we go out, we tell people we just moved here. Everyone has welcomed us and said we will love it. Folks are friendly! We went to the post office today and the two women there were super friendly, teasing me about Ken.

We also went to the Senior centre and became members. For $25. a year we can go there and eat lunch, volunteer, and participate in all types of activities. The place was buzzing today and the president of the centre  lives across the street from us. The lady who is in charge of programming is who we bought the house from. I’m beginning to feel like she could be a friend. Her mail keeps being delivered here so we’ve met several times to pass it on. Her husband is a wood worker and he and Ken get a long well too.

Motto update: I am sitting at the table for every meal. It feels good to participate.

I got the walking poles out for a heart beating walk this morning.

I thought about walking down the hill to the beach and changed my mind. I turned and started out east. Never before have I understood directions. I’m usually quite turned around and just go. But, now I’m savvy to the sunrise AND sunset. Our new house faces south and we get both!

I mean really! How perfect is that for someone who has wanted a view for a long time.

So, I start walking the neighbourhood, and it’s early, still dark. I see a glimpse of the sunrise, but I know I’m still too early. So, after a several blocks, I turn towards the water (south). I had to cross the Sunshine Coast Highway. It’s a busy road, but easy enough to wait for an opening.

I then started walking west. I know there is a beach access road, near Mason Rd. close to our house. I turned down it, and stood on a rocky beach, turned to the East and holy fuck!

This is what I saw!

So, I raised my hands and slowly put them down and enjoyed my first practice since moving here. Then I trudge up (north) to Samron Rd. and home.

No matter what direction I turn, I am filled with pure delight and gratitude.

Today is the celebration of life for my friend Kim. It will be held in her home in Albuquerque and while she has a big house, I doubt it will be large enough to hold the love that will be squeezed in there today.

While I can not be there, our friend  Margaret offered to patch me in. She is going to put me on speaker phone so I can share some of the love. Margaret also agreed to read something from me. I’m grateful.

It took me forever to write these few paragraphs and I also needed help with them. I want it to be good — to count. I want to salute my friend well. I know a few words won’t really cover my feelings, but for now words are what we use.

For Kim,
Friends don’t come with “fragile” stickers. Kim and I were never fragile with each other, we were not easily scared off, or ticked off.

But, I will say, now that Kim is gone, I feel quite fragile, scared and really ticked off. I loved my friend and I miss her.

I had the great gift of Kim’s friendship, of her warm heart, her generous nature, and her great humour.

Telling stories is how we remember, and having met Kim in junior high school, I have a lot of stories that I could share about my friend.

Like the time we drove down from the Jemez with 2 flat tires, or when we drove across the country together after graduation. There was the Lake Powell trip, the many camping trips, the singing, and just sitting poolside together and laughing.

Always laughing. No matter what we did together — laughter was involved. When I was with Kim – we laughed.

Kim was my maid of honour when I married. Now, while she had the title — I had the honour. One of my favourite stories came from that July day in 1983.

After the ceremony, Kim was talking to my husband — he was smoking a joint, when my mother  started walking towards them. Ken discreetly tried to pass the joint to Kim -  without missing a beat – Kim just shook her head, and said, “No thank you.”

At a loss, Ken realized he was on his own with the goods. It was a little later when Kim said, “I’ve known Jan’s mother a lot longer than you have, I wasn’t about to get caught with that thing!”

I wish I was with you all today for the hugs and the tears and to hear more stories.

May I also say, Lorin – thank you for taking such good care of my friend. And, Austin, your Grandma loved you.

I feel we will  honour her life by sharing, so please do ask anyone who ever knew Kim for a story. And share yours. It is how we remember.

I know I’ll be asking for a story every now and then as well.

Good night Kimmie. I love you.

It is so hard to write these days. I am a whirlwind of emotion.

I am so happy with the new house, the view, and how smooth the move went, that I can dance and dance. Then, I break into sobbing tears thinking of Kim being dead, and the fact that we just left Marian, Moser, and our community of 19 years.

Ken picked up a woo-woo newspaper yesterday and saw an advertisement for a woo-woo healer type woman. She boasted she was “writer of words” and “singer of songs”. I mean really — but then I thought at least she is writing words and singing songs.

My plate is not empty. Boxes are being unpacked, stuff is finding new closet and wall space. Peet is figuring out his new routine of staying inside and peeing in a box. And today is the first day the clouds lifted and we saw the view! So I spent a lot of the day just looking out the windows.

I also went to see the Bolshoi Ballet preform Swan Lake at a theatre this afternoon. The view and the ability to do things like that are why we made the upheaval over to Sechelt. The ballet was shown live on satellite! There is an entire series offered: opera from the NYC and such, plus they have popcorn!

The previous owners of the house dropped in for a visit today. Cassie and Charles. It was really nice and it is very possible we could become friends. We’ll see. We do have a lot in common and they only moved 5 blocks away. They left us a beautiful home and wrote all the things we needed to know, like where to get mail, who our neighbours are, when garbage is picked up. It was nice. Our realtor dropped by to welcome us as well. He brought a nice bottle of welcome to Sechelt wine… for Ken. ☺

This is a short and sweet post – I know some folks are wondering how we are doing. We are doing just fine. We are delighted, happy, and well and the next minute, I am down, sad and hurting. A liver of life experiencing traumas, drama, joys and celebrations.

I’ve been asked to write some words for a gathering for Kim this Wednesday. Someone offered to read them since I can not be there. I’m going to try to be a writer of words in the next few days, but maybe not a poster of posts!

Kim Westervelt Wardrip

February 19, 1955 — January 24, 2015

You were so loved and will be so missed.

I am sitting in the laundry room at Ross and Tylers house. Peet is with me. He spent most of the last two days in his bed in the shower in Ken’s washroom at the house. It was easier as we loaded the truck. He is doing fine, still a little stressed.

Everything fit in the truck and the van, except for Ken’s boat. We stashed it at Marians house and will have good reason to come back to Bowen soon.

It is all going well, considering, how really hard this is. We burst into random tears often, and our only talk is, “remember when..”

I have a black eye, where the boat fell off Marian’s truck and my face caught it. Ken has a cut finger from something but, other than that we are unharmed and well.

We will be on the first boat leaving the rock and are putting the big truck and van in the line up tonight after the last one leaves, so we should be first off. We’ll have a long day tomorrow and should be spending the evening watching the sunset from our new digs.

Forgive any spelling or mis-writings for this post please. Bathroom floors and an anxious kitty don’t make the best use of my heart right now.

Thank you Troy! Thank you Ross and Tyler and thank you Marian. Most of all thank you Ken, you gave us a good life on this rock.

Salute!

This week begins in Tunstall Bay and will end on Samron Rd. for us.

I’m crying a lot. Watching Fiddler on the Roof yesterday, on TV did not help. I know all the words to all the songs, and, when the song – Anatevka came on… well, the flood gates opened.
As we leave…. you can hear me singing.
…….
A little bit of this, a little bit of that.
A pot, a pan, a broom, a hat.
Someone should have set a match to this place years ago.
A bench, a tree.
So, what’s a stove?
Or a house?
People who pass through Anatevka don’t even know they’ve been here.
A stick of wood. A piece of cloth.
What do we leave?
Nothing much.
 Only Anatevka.
Anatevka, Anatevka.
Underfed, overworked Anatevka.
Where else could Sabbath be so sweet?
Anatevka, Anatevka.
Intimate, obstinate Anatevka,
Where I know everyone I meet.
Soon I’ll be a stranger in a strange new place,
Searching for an old familiar face
From Anatevka.
I belong in Anatevka,
Tumble-down, work-a-day Anatevka.
Dear little village, little town of mine…..

Dear Bowen Island, dear little village, little town of mine. Salute.

We are getting unplugged tomorrow. Tim, the Shaw guy will come between 11 – 1 and pull the plug on internet and TV. BC Hydro will turn off the lights on Wednesday.

Disconnected!

This could be the last bloggy post until we get over to Sechelt.

Turning off the lights doesn’t bother me so much as we will be out of the house on Tuesday night. But… not having internet connection for the full week with new, and interesting, scary and exciting stuff going on. Yikes!

See, I want to share this journey while we are making it. I don’t want to report on the adventure once it is over! Plus, I really need the support of friends right now. I want to hear people say they will miss me. I have regular email check ins that I will miss, we won’t have Skype or Facebook or Words with Friends! We won’t even have a telephone!

I now can see why folks have their noses buried in their phones all the time. They must be looking for that daily email that says, I’m thinking of you, this is what I’m doing. I love the office hours and the posted photos of the sunrise and kitty. My words with friends friends will have to wait to play their big words, and I will need to wait to find out how Kim, Rhonda and Jo are doing.

Sometimes too, I find it much easier to write an email to my friend up the street, and tell her how much I will miss her and how grateful I am for her friendship, and that I just can’t bear to actually look at her and say goodbye.

Apparently – I like my internet connection. It’s the main way I keep in touch. Having that connection does not make this move seem so scary or the world seem so big.

We won’t get connected over at the new place until next Friday. And I’m not silly enough to think there will be not new problems. We are talking computers after all. I’ve already messed up some stupid iCloud thing by changing email addresses as we lose shaw. Sigh…  Oh, how I wish a techie person was moving with us!

I’d like to take the high road and say, it will be nice to unplug for a while. See the trees, take in the new views, smell the flowers and such… but I admit I will probably seek out the library and some free wi-fi during this big week of change.

Ken and I wonder who will be the first guest in our new place. My greatest hope is it will be someone who knows how to deal with stupid computers and the internet, so we can get plugged back in. 🙂

I’m starting to feel it.

I really want to move — wanted it for a long time. I also know we will be happy in our new place and we look forward to new adventures, friends and the view.

That said, leaving this place is hard.

I’ve been a bit weepy the last few days as I pack the last bits of odds and such. My walks take on new awareness, practice spots are saluted, and I am snapping photos of the most mundane.

Our meals for the next few days are covered. Friends who we always meant to get together with, we are finally getting together with.

We had dinner last night with our next door neighbours. Deb and Ian moved in a year after we did. They are the perfect neighbours. We check in on their cat and dog when needed, and they do the same for us. We borrow eggs and cups of sugar, and wave when we pass. But last night was the first time we shared a meal and real conversation in all this time. It was wonderful, and when we said goodnight, it was really goodbye.

Today, friends Ross and Tyler are coming over and bringing us a picnic lunch. These meals allow us to pack up the dishes, as we get in the last of the hugs and stories with people we have grown to love. Tomorrow we eat with Louise and Buff and Annie and Jack. They are also neighbours that over the years we wave to, notice when they or we need anything, help when asked, and then politely say, “We really should get together.” But we don’t.

I have no regrets with living in Tunstall Bay, none. I can only hope our new neighbours will be as wonderful.

I’m concerned with moving Peet.

Peet was born four houses up the street. I carried him home in my arms when he was just a wee kitty. He hissed the entire way.

That was close to 18 years ago. We didn’t mark the day. I do know I’ve had a Peet cat for a long time. The first one was an Albuquerque kitty and we moved him to Colorado and Oregon. The second never made it out of Oregon and this Peet is Canadian through and through. (Although he has no papers to prove it.)

I know Peet is in for a few rough days. Only because he has never known anything other than this.

We move out of the B. I. T. C. H.  next Tuesday, but we don’t move into the new house until Thursday. Our friends Peter and Tamsin have offered for us to stay with them during our homeless days. We took them up on it. I know Ken and I can be anywhere — but I worry for Peet.

Peet has never been in a car. Peet has never used a litter box. Peet has a cat door and comes and goes as he pleases. Peet is old now, but still ruler of his world. He now spends about 23 and a half hours a day sleeping, but when he’s up, he is yelling at us for food or lap. I think he’s a bit senile these days. Maybe it’s all the packing and box chaos at the house right now, but he seems more demanding in the attention we need to give him.

Out in the yard, we have quite the pet cemetery. Lucy, Annie, and Cricket are all being left here on Bowen. In some ways it is too bad Peet is being disrupted in his old age. But, we love our kitty, so he gets disrupted. I think it is odd that people actually ask us if we are taking Peet! Seriously??!!

Our old kitty Annie is giving me hope with moving Peet though. Annie used to live at the blueberry farm I worked at. When the owners decided to move to town, they asked us to take Annie, because she is a “country cat” and would hate the city. We took her. The first day Annie came to our home we kept her inside to get her used to the new place. It took Annie about 6 months to go outside again. She found the comforts of a sofa, lap, and her own dish pretty wonderful. Certainly it was a lot better than catching mice and living out in “the country.”

I’m hoping Peet will embrace change the same way.

We brought a cat box in to the house for him to get used to a few days ago. We thought it would be good for him to learn to use it before we head to friends house for two days. It took about three minutes for him to figure out he can pee inside!

Come to think of it… Peet hasn’t been outside since that darn box came in.

As long as the Parkers are together and we find time to sit down for Peet to get a little lap time and ear rub each day, I think he will be just fine in the new place.