The gentrification of Main St., exhibit A

So we have a small beer and wine store in the neighbourhood, about 5 blocks away and tucked down a long hallway off Main, with it's doors facing into the alley. (we also have a BCLB store a few more blocks away, but last time we were in the vicinity we were witness to a couple flip-flop-surfer-short clad thieves running off with two six-packs of beer, with the portly security guard in slow pursuit calling 911.)

So when we moved in about, oh three months ago, my first visit to the local beer and wine store went something like this:

Friendly shopgirl: "Hi! Can I help you find anything?"
Me: "Actually, maybe you can. I'm looking for something to go with dinner, which will be lamb. I'm not sure, but I'm thinking pinot. Any suggestions?"
Friendly shopgirl: "Um, I'm not sure." She fumbles around under the counter. "Um, we used to have one of those dial-ly things that tells you good pairings..." Fumble, fumble, co-worker arrives. "Um, do you know a good wine that'll go with lamb?"
Co-worker: "Um..." They fumble around under the counter and pull out a card which matches foods with wine. Shopgirl: "Um, you're right! it looks like Pinot Noir would be a good match!"
Co-worker: "Um, yah, I think there's a couple on that wall over there..."

Friendly, goofy, unpretentious... Hey, I don't really know my wines either, and was pretty happy with the reasonably priced vintages they had in stock. I happily bought a Chilean something-or-other and went on my way.

OK, now only three months have past, keep in mind, and by the time Scott and I dropped in tonight, much has changed. Cool estate/boutique BC wineries are stocked, like Dirty Laundry and Therapy, the beer sample-girl isn't pouring Coors but new microbrewery from about 10 blocks away... when I mention my surprise at finding Church and State wines in the cooler, the Shopguy says that their Sav. Blanc is one of the best of BC wines that he's tried. Scott and I buy the bottle and walk out in culture shock.

Welcome to Main Street: Guys on the dole next to guys in Ferraris. A pawnshop opposite a Starbucks. A Ford dealership next to a bicycle cooperative.

I hope this place never stops surprising me.

Dragonfly on our window

Dragonfly on our window
Originally uploaded by Janice Greenwood-Fraser

The courtyard in front of our condo is often filled with dragonflies zooming around like little mini-helicopters: as I type this, I can watch about half a dozen performing their high speed flying stunts. The other day, one landed on the sill of an open window for a little rest, long enough for Scott to snap this picture. The wings are quite remarkable, aren't they? Not only are they interesting creatures, they also snack on the less interesting bugs like flies and mosquitoes. A pretty natural form of pest control, I'd say, and a pretty welcome one at that.

Island Rule

Today's Globe and Mail features a story about Jane Rule, who is receiving the Order of Canada today on Galiano Island. When I knew Jane I was a 12-year old kid, I had no knowledge of Jane (and Helen's) story or prominent literary presence. All I knew is that every afternoon myself and a gaggle of other kids would arrive at her pool to laugh and play and splash around while Jane and Helen calmly kept watch. I'm pretty sure the patience and fortitude needed to look after a dozen or so kids all at the same time (let alone by adding the additional complication of submersible water) is itself enough to warrant the Order of Canada, so I'm super happy to hear that she's a deserving recipient.

Meanwhile...

Finally summer and sunshine has arrived on the coast! Scott celebrated with a dip in the Georgia Strait this weekend. It was still a bit chilly for me to consider joining him but a few weeks more of this will have me ready to jump in, in no time.

Meanwhile, the best part of summer is truly here: berry season. Last weekend Scott and I drove out past the edge of the big-box stores to the pleasant rural part of Richmond and picked up a number of boxes of fresh local strawberries, my intention was to make jam out of most but by the end of the weekend Scott and I had eaten at least half and I managed to resist eating them all only by freezing the rest. Luckily Nicola supplied me with some of her freshly batched strawberry jam but even that's already half gone: jam is the best when it's super fresh.

Meanwhile, I called my parents recently to hear my father cheerfully telling me he was digging into the latest of my mom's strawberry pies, the third one she'd made in as many weeks. I was immediately suspicious. Why wasn't I invited over for any of these legendary pies? Was that my brother in-law's voice I heard in the background? Was my sister and her family over for pie? Was there any pie left? 'Cause I could come over, you know, right away, to help finish off any pie. My mom got on the line to calm me down and promised us dinner - including strawberry pie - next Friday. Scott may have to battle my 3.5-yr old nephew for the last piece, though (HE WILL LOSE - SF).

Meanwhile, over here today we have fresh raspberries and blueberries (as well as cherries, which although not technically a berry, still just as coveted.) I threw a few of the blueberries into a rustic tart for tonight's dessert, just now ready to be served with yummy ice cream. Yes, summer has finally arrived, and not a moment too soon. Stay tuned for the next episode of Life with Scott... "Adventures with Summer Complaint".

PS By popular request (okay, one repeated request) I've turned comments to the ON position, for this and future posts. You are now welcome to compliment me on my exceeding talent/intellect/beauty at any time.

Mountain Air

The Rockies
Originally uploaded by Janice Greenwood-Fraser

Last week I travelled east to show off another spectacular corner of the province to a group of hardened press types. But they were as blown away as I am, each time I visit the Rockies. Check out more photos on the Flickr link to the right.

The mountain air is incredibly cleansing. Maybe a little too cleansing for a certain reporter from the big city. Not only did we cut him off cell phone access - a swift yet deep cut, we then took him on an six hour hike far, far from any city cubicle or computer terminal. The poor guy, who I reckon hasn't seen this side of a tree (or a treadmill) for about a decade, just about kicked it - but my colleague Tom kept him alive with pretzels and promises of a post-hike beer. It worked, thank God, although he's not yet ready to eschew the vices of cigars and trans-fats for the life of a mountain-climber.

Another day and another hike: the beautiful Lizard Range near Fernie, this time with a mountain guide and another big-city journalist who had never been to the Rockies before. His way of reflecting was to swear vehemently when he found a spot of extraordinary beauty. I had to agree, but also hoping he'll come up with something more poetic for his article.

Then it was a quick visit to Calgary, to visit Jacqueline and her family, including her two little girls, one a chubby and happy baby and the other a mischievous and dimpled two-year old. We had a wonderful visit, and then I pulled Jacq away for a wild chase around Calgary to find a tree, one that had been planted as a memorial to Scott's dad. I believe I tried Jacq's patience by having her drive up and down the white-knuckle Deerfoot Trail about half a dozen times before turning off on a winding, follow-your-nose drive through a northeast suburb, finally and amazingly landing at the right spot. Vern's blue spruce is thriving and slowly growing, now almost as tall as the thigh-high summer prairie grasses that surround it.

I was home in time to celebrate Canada Day with Scott, and we've spent the last two days putting a few more home-like touches to our place: hanging pictures, arranging books, organizing closets. Slowly we're settling in, and despite the allure of the beautiful Rockies, I'm happy to be home once more.