Life's a Stitch

Creatures in the time of Covid

In addition to the gulls, of course, which C has named Poopy, Crappy and Splat, the streaky evidence of which can be seen on the roof. I had chosen more innocuous names, but agreed to go with his, as long as Crappy's original one was changed. I'll leave that to your imagination.

That's Splat, discovering his little gull voice.

I've succeeded in my goal of walking every street on the Semiahmoo Peninsula, 5K at a time. These daily walks close to home have revealed a variety of local beasts. I've seen deer, turtles, families of raccoons, bunnies, squirrels, and many kinds of birds - bald and golden eagles to crimson breasted house finches.

One of my favourite spots is Crescent Beach prior to 8:00a.m. It's quiet, fresh, and without the throngs that grow as the day develops, the critters make an appearance.

The early bird gets the fish. Herons by the dozens hang out at their favourite hunting waters. 

Cotton tails have plenty to eat in the grassy part of the park. 

Last week, when M and KC are here we even got in some time crabbing. We staked out a corner on the White Rock pier and were able to maintain a healthy distance from others. We left Crescent Beach pier one afternoon, though, when the crowds moved in, unmasked or with no regard to the concept of two metres. We caught two keepers as you can only take males of a certain size, but it provided a decent crabbatizer for dinner.

On the topic of fauna, I realized I never posted a photo of my last pet portrait, Prince the cat, posing regally on the back of the couch.

 

 

 

Up on the roof

The Laura Nyro version of Up On The Roof was my favourite song in the early 1970's. It represented an island of calm in a time of turmoil in my teenage life.

Currently there's a lot going on up on the roof of the condo building across the street. We've been watching a family of gulls, from the time they started building their nest to the now weeks-old hatchlings exercising their wings in preparation for their first flight to come at around eight weeks of age. 

They are a messy noisy pain, but living near the ocean and whining about seagulls is like moving into a house near the airport and complaining about the sound of jet engines. Their lifespan is 20 years, so we might as well accept them as part of the landscape.

It started with three chicks, but one day there was a mess of feathers on the roof and we were down by one. It was probably attacked by a crow - sadly, crows and gulls steal from each other's nests. That, or taken as dinner by an eagle or raccoon. Gulls can lay eggs sequentially, so a while later, the remaining two were joined by a smaller sibling. They are quite cute all fuzzy and spotted and are fun to watch.

Their condo association had fake owls installed on the roof to deter the gulls from landing, but it obviously didn't work.

We've had a good view of them while working on our upper floor back deck. C had a vision of deck tiles and fake grass, transforming the vinyl coated deck into an inviting outdoor room. It ended up working well thanks to Craig's List, which he monitored diligently for the materials. 

Productive Homebodies

It's amazing how much you can get done around the house when you have the time and nowhere to go. One major project was located literally around the house. We live on a small hillside lot above the beach. In keeping with our retirement plan, there is no lawn. We have a tiny front garden and two narrow strips of growing area in back of the house.

That wee little front garden yielded 12 giant bags of yard waste! C then pickaxed the roots out and sifted the dirt to remove a ton of rocks. His theory was there was an original rock garden that was covered over with dirt for a different look. Ready for planting we took two trips to nearby nurseries and exhausted our $200 of grocery store points in their garden centre.

I have a black thumb, but a good sense of design. Major kudos to C for his brawn, which produced this:

We especially like the two new trees, a weeping pussy willow and a Coral Japanese Maple, its red bark showing off in the winter.

 

A visit in the time of the by-rist (virus)

That’s what my 4 yr old grandson calls it. And he’s also very good at using his “hamitizer.” Here in BC we seriously followed our orders from the medical health officer. We strictly maintained our bubble of two, saving ourselves for the phase two allowable contact with six people, in anticipation of the visit from daughter E and family.

We were all supposed to be camping in Washington and Oregon, but the border remains closed, and won’t open until the numbers in the US decrease. They made the decision to proceed with a shorter visit. There was double incentive as both sets of grandparents are located within a five minute drive.

It’s a little heartbreaking to see pediatric sized masks. A pandemic is something you might want to tell your grandkids about as a distant event, not something you want them to live through. I questioned both of them about their current lives in the time of Covid, and it seems they’re adapting well.

We’ve had lots of fun despite the rain, but for tonight, I’ll cut it short as I’m typing one handed due to an altercation with the hot metal part of the handle of my pizza peel. The beginning was fun, though, making pizza together on the BBQ.

I was fortunate to be in the company of their parents, a safety manager and a nurse.

And may wonders never cease, as the initial intent of this blog was about knitting. The by-rist has given me the gift of time and the opportunity to open containers of yarn, untouched since our move several years ago. While still in the working world aka earning a paycheque, I did an excellent job of bolstering the yarn stash knowing finances would be tighter in retirement. I was embarrassed to find thirty skeins of Noro silk blend yarn and immediately put twenty into service. The mitred square afghan may have to be put aside for a few days considering the current circumstances, but it’s one that won’t be ignored for long.