In the spirit of share the chocolate, share the love here are some Valentine’s dinner tablescape photos. The roses, rosemary and lavender are from my greenhouse.
I’m a librocubicultarist and its OK. I read in bed. Lots of other places too but reading in bed is the ultimate for true bibliophiles. The Handyman has given me the most perfect valentine’s gift that I can’t take to bed with me or anywhere else really and that’s OK too. I have a work-a-day back-up copy. (I wonder if there is a latin name for reading in the bathtub too?)
Ta da. This is an unread princeps, or first edition (American) of my favourite book.
I love books about adventurous women. Out of Africa is a memoir by the Danish author Baroness Karen von Blixen writing under the pen name Isak Dinesen. First published in England in 1937, the year before my American edition, about the 17 years she spent in Kenyan running a coffee plantation. (The 1937 British edition has the same richly illustrated dust jacket as mine has.)
“I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills. The Equator runs across these highlands, a hundred miles to the north, and the farm lay at an altitude of over six thousand feet. In the day-time you felt that you had got high up; near to the sun, but the early morning and evenings were limpid and restful, and the nights were cold.”
I opened the brown-paper package from John W. Doull, Antiquarian & second-hand books bought & sold in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia and smelled my treasure. There is a word for that too: Bibliosmia, the act of smelling books, especially as a way of getting a ‘fix’ from the aroma of old tomes.
True confessions. My love for Out of Africa was born after my first viewing of the movie, which to my horror (30 years, really?) celebrated the 30th anniversary of its release last year. My favourite actor Meryl Streep was Karen and Robert Redford, Denys Finch Hatton.
Hopelessly romantic, the movie takes liberties with the book’s emphasis on her day-to-day life in Africa (although nothing was really day-to-day about it) and spins it into a moving love story filmed on location. Who can forget the sweeping scenes of Kenya from the air or Redford tenderly washing Streep’s hair on safari.The love story really happened but the book has a much more restrained telling of it.
Before I gush on even more, I’ll leave you with some of Karen’s words after her heart-wrenching departure from Africa:
“If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air on the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?”
- Is this a new race? I’ve never heard of a swim in the Channel.
Locals think we are talking about swimming in the Okanagan River Channel, a seven-kilometre-long man-made channel connecting Okanagan and Skaha Lakes. It is filled with people on floaties, often with beers in tow, every hot summer day and is only five-feet deep in many places. “No, we are swimming the English Channel, also called simply the Channel, hence the confusion. It’s the body of water that separates southern England from northern France, and joins the southern part of the North Sea to the Atlantic Ocean. We will swim at its narrowest point of 32.3 km in the Strait of Dover.”
2. You wear a wetsuit right?
No, just like the first woman to swim the Channel, Gertrude Ederle, we will wear bathing suits, caps and goggles. Gertrude was slathered in blubber from baby dolphins, mainly because she was allergic to the salt in the water. Today’s solo swimmers can buy Channel Grease from Boots Pharmacy in Dover. It’s made from the sap of an Amazon rainforest tree. Us relay guys won’t need it with our one-hour stints in the sea.
3. So, you find the biggest bathing suit you can to keep warm? One with legs?
Nope. And they are called swim costumes. “A standard swim costume shall be of a material not offering thermal protection or buoyancy and shall be sleeveless and legless. Sleeveless shall mean the costume must not extend beyond the end of the shoulder onto the upper arm and legless shall mean the costume must not extend onto the upper leg below the level of the crotch.” So basically we are talking speedos for the guys.
4. What day is the race?
It’s not a race as in a mass start all on one day, although times are meticulously recorded by an independent observer of the Channel Swimming Association. Swimmers head out throughout the swimmable period, which is pretty much July to September, according to weather and tides.
5. How do you know where you are going?
Swimmers don’t have to worry about that. You are escorted by one of eight Channel Swimming Association pilot boats. We will be in the capable hands of Reg Brickell, whose father also piloted Channel swimmers. We will swim alongside, (without touching) the trawler, Viking Princess and when at sea Reg has the last say on our safety.
6. Lots of people have done this right? It’s not that big a deal?
If we make it, we will be among a pretty elite club, even as a mere 6-person relay team. My admittedly dated 2011 record book shows only four Canadian relay teams have made this swim. I know of one other that swam it two years ago as they live at the other end of our big lake and I’m sure there have been a few others since. Half our team will be 60 in the year of our swim so that will be cool too. Touching wood, fingers crossed, rabbits foot…
7. What will you do when you get to France? Holiday?
After the lucky last swimmer on the relay team walks or crawls on the French shore above the waterline somewhere near Cap Gris Nez, we hop in the dingy until we hit deep enough water to board the Viking Princess and motor for Dover. Although we all have to have our passports onboard, we aren’t allowed to stay in France. It’s tradition to take a pebble from the French beach with you as a souvenir.
8. It’s only about 32 kilometres right? You can see France on a clear day right?
Strong currents and tides mean you swim a lot further and a typical swim looks like an “S”. In fact, the slowest ever successful swimmer took more than 28 hours to complete the swim. She ended up swimming 70 kilometres as she pushed well off course by strong tides. We don’t want to beat that record.
9. Aren’t you afraid of the deep water?
No. We are all used to swimming “in the deep end” and have lots of deep lake swimming away from shore experience. But, we are afraid of the cold water, jellyfish, swimming in the dark at night, being in the busiest shipping lane in the world, not the cleanest water to swim in, getting seasick either on the rocky fishing trawler or in the sea while swimming, letting our team down by not swimming hard enough to get through the currents and the biggest one of all… Getting to England and not being able to even attempt the swim if the weather is too bad during our swim window (July 26-August 1). Rabbit foot, touch wood, salt over shoulder…
10. Why are you doing this?
Because it’s there? Speaking of Everest… About 3,000 people have climbed it and less than 1,000 have swum the English Channel solo. We all have our reasons. Here’s the story of Crazy Canuck team member Charlie:
“I’m swimming the Channel because of a combination of things. You twisted my arm and I was dropped on my head.” More seriously she talks of the amazing English Channel history and that swimming on a relay team seems a “doable” way to be a part of that amazing story.
Charlie is an athletic goddess in my eyes. She holds the Woman over 50 records for both Ultraman Canada (2011) and Ultraman Australia (2015) among other achievements. Enough said.
“My biggest challenge is with the cold water. I’m sure I had some mild hypothermia after our test swim. My brain was pretty fuzzy and it took forever to get into warm clothes. It should be OK though as it’s only an hour at a go and the Channel will likely be warmer than our test swim was.”
She says she also looking forward to adding our names to the walls of the White Horse in Dover and celebrating with a pint.
1. The Internet is so your friend. After offering to show my love for a niece by baking all the desserts for her wedding, I learned how to really bake. It became my mission to up the ante enough to feel proud of my gift to her. I took an intensive online course given by noted Vancouver Pastry Chef Marco Ropke. I made almost all the pastries, European cakes and cookies in the course over the course of six months. The instruction, more than 10 hours of video and clear recipes were amazing. I also communicated with the Chef and got answers to my questions…mainly about sourcing ingredients.
2. I’m always asked to bring dessert to dinner parties. That’s OK by me. I get to try something new and fancy and we don’t have to eat all of it.
3. If you are serious about learning to bake you have to get right back on that horse when you fall off and you will fall off a lot. Even experienced chefs and bakers have failures. I try to analyze why the cake didn’t rise and have another go. In the case of macarons, there were multiple attempts and I’m getting close.
4. Don’t mess about trying to make your baking less fattening. Use real butter, good chocolates and rich cream. It is all about the ingredients. I don’t see the point in indulging in a treat if it is only so-so. Let them eat great cake or have a carrot. There is no in-between.
5. Five Paris Brest pastries (a cream puff type affair) is too many to eat in one session, the Handyman says.
I was decorating and antique shopping at about this stage of the tree fort build.
And started buying things for the cabins at about this stage.
The laminate flooring is a tree fort upgrade that elevates it from splintery plywood and it has been easy to clean. The roof overhang keeps any rainwater from coming in the screen windows and ruining the floor.
The second cabin, added a year after the first, is designed as more of an adult space. Kids can sleep in the upstairs cabin futon with parents not too far away.
Here are some more pictures… The decor is evolving still. The adult cabin, dubbed “The Nappster” will get drywall and paint eventually. Its guests have also recommended roll-up bamboo blinds to help with the moonlight. A back deck addition is planned for this summer.
Although there is no possibility that the Crazy Canucks English Channel relay team will break any records, lots of other Canadians have. Maybe we are the polar bears of the swimming world.
I ran by this cool monument to Marilyn Bell in Victoria on the Dallas Road footpath east of Finlayson Point not long ago and it gave me goosebumps, probably not a common occurrence among other who take the time to read it.
It states: This cairn commemorates the feat of Miss Marilyn Bell who landed in this bay 23rd August, 1956 to become the first woman and first Canadian to swim Juan de Fuca Strait from Port Angeles, U.S.A. to Victoria, Canada.
Bell, the first person to swim across Lake Ontario in 1954, became the youngest person to swim the English Channel in 1955.
Cindy Nicholas has spent lots and lots of time in the English Channel. With her 19 crossings and five two-way crossings she earned the title of Queen of the Channel, until the record was broken by Alison Streeter with over 43 crossings. Cindy was the first woman to complete a two-way crossing and for awhile held a two-way world record time of 18:51. She still holds the record for most two-way crossings at five.
Vicki Keith has the record for the first crossing of the Channel doing the butterfly for her feat In July of 1989.
Much more recently, Wayne Strach of Leduc at 60 became the oldest Canadian to swim the Channel with his 17-hour and 15 minute trip from England to France in 2015.
Strach told the CBC News that the tidal currents were at the top of his list of challenges. Strach toughed it out saying he didn’t go there “to swim partway to France”.
The Crazy Canucks’ oldest relay team member, Janet, will be 63 on our crossing. The English Channel Swimming Association Limited doesn’t track this type of age-related record for relay teams so we won’t know how we stack up that way if we finish. Our team also has two others that will be 60 this year.
All team members have faced fear of some sort in their swimming career’s leading up to our new challenge. Janet’s came in her first triathlon in a mass start. “All of a sudden all I could see were white heels coming up through the green water…for some reason it reminded me of the bodies in the movie Titanic and I couldn’t breathe.” Despite her panic attack she finished the race, albeit embarrassed and humiliated at being one of the last swimmers to exit the lake.
That race is so much water under the bridge. Janet is training hard with a Penticton Master’s group and has completed our two local races in style, bagging a first in her age group at the 7-kilometre Rattlesnake Island Swim. “I’ve never had another panic attack although there has been some deep breathing when I’ve started a new challenge.
“Now I’m on the final leg of training for the Channel and I’m looking forward to it with trepidation and a bit of excitement.”
No more crinkly paper gowns but the, “take a deep breath in” still happens when you open the door of my former doctor’s office now gloriously morphed into a craft distillery.
Passionate about their art, Dawn and Doug Lennie happily share an hour of spirit making show and tell. The husband and wife team bought the doctor’s office a couple of years ago to distill artisanal vodka and gin in small batches infusing them with fresh BC-grown fruit, nuts and herbs. Their latest addition, Legend Lounge, is helping locals pass time in winter with its cozy fireplace, tapas (onion soup, wild mushroom pate with crackers and house pickles, hot artichoke and kale dip with taco chips…), cocktails (of course) and a selection of Naramata wines and local craft beers.
Captain Nemo-looking gleaming copper and steel stills differentiate a tasting experience at Legend Distilling from a visit to the many Naramata wineries along the Bench. “After our first full season I’m really happy with the traffic and the response from our visitors,” Dawn says. “I think people are finding us a refreshing change.”
On trend, Legend Distilling is one of only a handful of distilleries in the Okanagan and a perfect addition to the Valley’s burgeoning foodie culture and its longer winery history. Fun branding playing on the distillery’s doctor’s office past and its legend’s theme is hitting the right note as are its contemporary and unique flavour profiles.
The couple opened with a few offerings and have gradually added new spirits such as Defender Island Smoked Rosemary Gin and Slowpoke Farmberry and liqueurs like Blasted Brew Spiked Coffee and Manitou Orange Sumac Liqueur to its flights. Next on the horizon…whisky. Doug shows me his coddled whisky aging in different types of barrels a mere two years away from savourability.
A crew is bottling Shadow in the Lake Vodka, one of its original offerings, on the day of my visit. The bottles are so unique that they are worth keeping when the smooth, full-bodied vodka with subtle notes of vanilla and carmel is all gone. Too bad I can’t capture the wonderful aroma of the vodka as its bottled.
Legend Distilling’s setting on Naramata Road is as spectacular as its libations. “During demo of the building Doug took a break and sat outside to watch the sun set. He came home after that saying we had to change all the plans and add on some more space. We needed to move the tasting room to the back of the building to take advantage of the view and access to the patio. We stretched the budget but it was worth it.”
Good call. I took this photo this past Thanksgiving from the patio.
And my sister-in-law Mel, took this one of the tasting room window on her Thanksgiving visit from Toronto.
While our turkey was cooking in our wood-fired oven a five-minute walk away, we spent a perfect hour on the patio with family.
My Legendary Caesar lived up to its name.
To keep our spirits up before the sun returns in full force and we can move to the patio again, Dawn shared her recipe for a favourite hot winter drink:
Manitou Coffee
- 1 oz Blasted Brew Spiked Coffee
- 1/2 oz Orange Sumac Liqueur
- In a pour over, placed over glass add…
- 5 tablespoons ground coffee
- 6 oz hot water (3/4 cup)
- Top with whip cream, a coffee bean and fresh nutmeg
“Wow, your face is super dirty,” my swim pal Maureen says as we staggered out of the Hudson River. “About as dirty as your’s,” I reply. We had the most enormous white-toothed grins in those dirty faces as we had just completed the coolest open water swim in our careers.
New York Swim‘s Little Red Lighthouse Swim is a 10.2 kilometre journey up the Hudson River that begins at the 79 St. Boat Basin, passes under the George Washington Bridge with the tiny lighthouse almost hidden under its Manhattan stanchion and finishes up at the marina at Dyckman St. near the northern tip of the island.
It was like a swimming equivalent of Tom Hanks’ “I made fire!”. We just swam in the Hudson River alongside one of the most incredible cities in the world. We just swam in the frigging Hudson, runway of US Airways Flight 1549.
The elation wasn’t really about the actual swim feat. We had both braved much tougher conditions that summer at our home race of Rattlesnake Island where kayaks guiding swimmers tipped. We even donned wetsuits as the water temperature was so cool that NY Swim made it a legal wetsuit swim. Both well trained for cold water swimming in just bathing suits, the wetsuits seemed like better protection against the “things” in the water. It was more about the sentiment expressed by our New York cab driver. “You are going to do what? You are swimming in the Hudson? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Assured the water quality was OK we focus on other important things. “There can be a substantial amount of chop in the water from wind and tide action,” NY Swim warned us. “The waterways are salt-water and there is shipping traffic. There may be random jetsam and flotsam in the waterways.”
We also listened attentively about swimming hard by the Sewage Treatment plant and about sighting well at the end of the race and keeping in toward shore to avoid getting sucked down the river.
I’ve never swum 10 kilometres so fast in my life (2:05). The tide comes in and you fly along in a strong current. Despite not being able to see your hands as you stroke along in the murky water it felt pretty comfortable out there. Pretty comfortable but amazing all at the same time as you catch glimpses of the Manhattan skyline, Grant’s Tomb and that incredible big grey bridge with traffic zooming over your head. Pretty comfortable until my hand touches some of that flotsam. It was some soft feeling substantial “thing” invisible in the murk. I tried hard not to think of it as someone’s cement boots finally coming off as they drifted along in the current. Clearly I’ve watched to many crime movies about New York…
Despite the flotsam encounter, we felt safe out there in the river. Me and Maureen and 217 others were helped along by about 30 kayakers, 10 larger boats, some NYPD (cool even to write that) zodiacs and some blue-capped “swim angles” who joined the race to look out for anyone in trouble. I think only one of us got hauled out with hypothermia issues and we all made the against-the-current exit with no problems.
“I swam in the Hudson River!” It was well-organized had ultra cool scenery and we swam in in one of the most famous stretches of river in the world that we didn’t even realize that you could swim in.
Here is a youtube of the 2012 race.
They came in buses, they came in cars, they came on bikes and on foot in numbers so high that they wore a path around the garden. They asked questions and wanted latin names for plants some of which I couldn’t remember common names for. They paid money to see the garden as part of a sold-out garden tour. They even came in the rain. And I loved every minute of it.
Winning the Calgary Horticultural Society’s best garden (medium-sized) just before we moved to Naramata was a perfect way to leave that chapter of gardening in a challenging climate for gardening nirvanaland. Our work here is done…
Once entered in the annual competition, the preparation was military. Commander Edward Secateur Hands went into action. Weeds were the enemy. Not a single dead blossom was allowed to die in peace and go to seed. Edward’s Garden Centre loved me and I got help loading my car with annuals every time I went. When I started shop vacuuming the walkways my youngest daughter was ready to seek help for me. (She knew the phone numbers to call. After three days of having to wash dishes by hand when the dishwasher broke she called the Kids Help Line to complain about child labour.)
An intimidating team of garden judges came by with their clipboards unannounced and I heeded instructions to have no contact with them as they explored. The solution: Army belly crawl under all the open windows to eavesdrop. Busted by the Handyman. Worth it.
We were pretty chuffed to learn of the win. I often wonder if it had to do with pervasive smell of chocolate coming from the cocoa hull mulch that was applied on many of the beads. Cheating? The Handyman’s hardscaping might have had something to do with it. My stone potting shed, the tall pergolas, two ponds and curved solar bank were pretty cool.
The win meant another military campaign to get ready for the tour weekend and the media. More weird shop vacuuming.
The two days of visitors was a thing in itself. They asked questions, so many questions. I began to label plants that people were really interested in and many assiduously took notes. On the second day a Calgary Horticulture Society clematis expert quietly crossed out one of my labels and penciled in “durandii”.
Here are a few more pics. There is something about looking at garden pictures in winter when we are craving colour.
My garden is in good hands. The couple that bought our house are gardeners. When we drive by on visits to Calgary it still looks pretty darn good.
naramata-blend 