Dipsy Doodle

By Maryanna Gabriel

"No no noDon't it always seem to go,That you don't know what you've gotTil it's gone"
               - Joni Mitchell

     It is the first day of spring today. Feeling the sap running I headed to the "big island".

Spring

Waiting in Fulford Harbour, our quaint island ferry terminal, I was astounded and then alternately alarmed. Our first electronic digital bill board glowed. When did that happen? There in the morning predawn with Venus twinkling over Mount Tuam I was reminded of vacation packages only offered by BC Ferries - flashing, rotating, an alternating dipsy doodle of text, smallish mind you, but there it was just the same, an encroachment upon quaintness. I was struggling with processing my resentment. After briefly contemplating moving to another island and thinking clearly we were paying too much in ferry fares, I made my way forward. 

     Leaving this small gulf island always requires a genius mastermind with the to-do list and the timing for the return ferry. There I was minding my own business in Cowichan in a grocery store when BANG!!! - someone had driven through the wall. Making a wild-eyed careen with my shopping cart towards my car as sirens pierced the air and ambulance attendants formed a protective huddle, a woman whispered to me that the driver had had a heart attack. A brief look at the car, which was mildly dented and the gape in the store wall, told me that the vehicle at least had probably not contributed further damage to this poor woman's woes. Happily, I made a ferry I should have missed as it was running late. One doesn't want to become another Emily Dickinson and never leave the property but at times it is tempting. I am gratefully returned to my sanctuary among the trees.

Buds Of Hope

Rhubarb In The Garden

By Maryanna Gabriel

Cougars and headless deer aside, it is colder than cold here. I live in a kleenex box. This means that I have to work closely with the elements. I am huddled under a blanket with a heater as I write this thinking about the signs of spring I am seeing around me and feeling much like a frozen bud myself. I contemplate the paleontology sites where mammoths and saber tooth tigers are flash frozen to the spot with grasses in their belly and wonder about ice ages and will they find morning pastry and papaya in mine. The rhubarb is showing a pink tip through the snow and the snow drops are all in bloom. Yesterday, encouraged by this show of daring, I ventured forth and pruned the fruit trees and then raked away the fallen branches from the winter storms.

I am wondering what my tenant must think of me for I have an affliction. It is a startle reflex of some proportion carried forward from childhood. When he comes upon me and I am unaware I jump a mile and scream. I quickly apologize and continue normally with whatever I am doing. He seems to take it in his stride for it has happened numerous times and he sports an impassive veneer accompanied only by the barest hint of a twist to the mouth. I have realized only lately that he has been chopping wood for me every now and again. Now that really startles me. Not only has it taken a long time for me to notice but the fact that he has quietly and occasionally been doing this without pointing it out to me is something I have not very much encountered. Seriously, I think there is hope.