In the little section of the city where we live, five streets meet at an intersection that we call the Five Corners. Or we just call it the village. There's a grocery store, a pharmacy, a bistro, a video store, a cafe-bookstore, a Starbucks, a bank and, as of tomorrow, another coffee shop. There's also a florist, around the corner from which are these murals.

200-acre Beacon Hill Park was established in the mid-1800s and is named for the masts that were strategically placed on a hill overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca, to provide navigational aid to mariners approaching Victoria's inner harbour.



In the park stands the world's 4th tallest totem pole, at 127 feet, carved from a cedar tree by Mungo Martin and erected in 1956.



This rustic stone medieval bridge, built in 1889, was designed by Scottish architect John Blair, who won a competition to landscape the park.



At the southwestern edge of the park is Mile 0 of the Trans-Canada Highway.

I'm doing a fly-by post this evening, having spent the entire day outside, celebrating Canada Day. Here's a little slice of the day's events.


Red and white roses - they are our colours, after all.


Parliament Buildings

( Click here to see more of our day. )

When I go for my morning walk, I go out the door, down an alley, and turn onto a dead end street that makes me think I might have shut my eyes, clicked my heels and been transported to England. The houses are set close to the road, and the front yards are small but filled to the brim with flowers that explode in a riot of colour - delphiniums, hollyhocks, peonies, lupins, canterbury bells, foxglove ...



The roses in this photo have a light, delicate scent and the soft pink colour reminds me of the Chanel No. 5 lotion my nana used to wear. I'm not sure what the clustered blue flowers are; if you know, could you please tell me?

cynthialord invited us to post one photo per day, showing the area where we live. I think this is a great idea and I can't wait to see the photos all week.

So welcome to Victoria, BC. This photograph was taken from the breakwater, where I walk daily, as long as it's not too windy ~ I don't want to get swept into the sea.

What I don't see here every day is a mock battle between pirate ships ~ cannons and all. Have you ever heard a cannon fire? Trust me when I say it shakes you right down to your boots!! Notice the guy out on the rigging at the bow of the ship on the right. The ship on the left was the Interceptor in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie.

I don't eat coco-puffs for breakfast and I've never met an average-bear kind of bear. I'm also not a good liar. I'm pretty "what you see is what you get".

And I do want to go to Australia. I want to see the kangaroos and the koalas and the opera house and try on an Aussie accent. I want to go swimming in the ocean on Christmas Day. And I really, really want to go to Tasmania to see the lavender fields.

So it wasn't that much of a stretch to prevaricate on my blog today that we were going to move to Sydney for six months. It seemed like a perfectly plausible April Fool's prank.

I know, I know ~ I can hear you saying, "Seriously? Are you kidding me?!?"

The trouble is, as I lay in bed last night, pondering my deception, all of a sudden it hit me, Why CAN'T I go to Sydney for a few months and make a little hop and a skip from there over to Tasmania? I could probably fund the entire adventure just by giving up Starbucks lattes. And I wouldn't miss my blogging friends because the beauty of blogging is we can reach out and touch one another from anywhere in the world.

So, as jamarattigan would say, the yolk's on me. What started as an April Fool's joke became a possibility, a hope, a dream, a goal. It might not happen this fall but I feel certain it'll happen one day.

Meanwhile, I hope my friends will forgive my momentary insanity today but, just in case, if you're looking for me, I'll be hiding out in Tori's fort.

When you wake up in the morning and you crawl out of bed and climb into your clothes and you make your coffee and eat your coco-puffs for breakfast and you go about your day, you never expect that this is going to be something other than your average-bear kind of day. Sometimes something happens that makes you go, "Seriously? Are you kidding me? REALLY?!?" Then you pinch yourself and you realize it's really true and that an opportunity has arisen for you to move to Sydney, Australia from September to early in the new year, to study and research and fulfill your dream of visiting the lavender fields in Tasmania in January. And you swoon and fall onto your fainting couch and you realize that you might as well forget about getting any productive work done today because already, in your mind, you're sitting in aromatic purple fields and ... oh, my ...

On March 31, 2008, some Little Furry Fellows decided to demonstrate their great affection for their friend Carrie Jones by holding a rally. They donned tiny campaign buttons and proceeded to line up, preparatory for venturing into the big city.

"Hold tight to the rope," bellowed Hightop from his place at the front of the line.



"Wait for me," piped a little voice. "I tripped over my mismatched socks."



"Don't worry, Priscilla," said Ned, not loosening his grip on the duct tape rope.
"NOBODY gets left behind!!"



At the front door they climbed onto each other's shoulders. From this point Hiccup was able to reach the doorknob. She lowered Priscilla down in a makeshift swing, with the idea that she would be a pendulum and that this would somehow allow them to turn the handle and open the door. Nobody was quite sure why, but they were sure there was some logic in there somewhere.



Unfortunately Hiccup lost her grip on the shiny doorknob and she slipped off and fell to the floor. The pyramid collapsed and the stuffies dissolved into gales of giggles.



The Little Furry Fellows abandoned the mission and settled in to watch a John Wayne movie, but not before they asked me to tell you, Carrie, that they think you are all kinds of fabulous. And I agree!!



WITH LOVE AND HUGS FROM,
SUSAN AND THE LITTLE FURRY FELLOWS
XOXOXOXO

Hiccup and Fuzz were curled up on the couch on a cold March day, busily reading an Archie comic.
"Oh my," said Hiccup suddenly, and poked Fuzz in the side to get her attention.
"Hey, that hurt," said Fuzz, jabbing back with a well-placed elbow. "Did you have a thought?"
"Well, yes, actually I did," answered Hiccup. "And it's quite important. I can't believe YOU didn't have the same thought."
"Agck!!" said Fuzz. "I've got it!!"
And together they cried, "IT'S LORRAINE'S BIRTHDAY!!!"
They borrowed Tori's itsy bitsy MP3 player and cued up a song from one of her many playlists. And then together they sang.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIIIIIIIIIIRRRRTHDAY, DEAR LORRAINE
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

Then they poured themselves tiny cups of hairbender coffee and settled in to read some more.

This evening, as I was walking along the waterfront, I slowed my steps when I heard something squeaking. I looked waaay up, like Friendly Giant used to say, and there at the top of a street light sat a seagull. It didn't look like most gulls - white and gray - in fact, it was rather like the colour of Melodye's counter-cat. I listened for a moment, trying to recall where I had heard that sound before. Suddenly I remembered. That gull sounded just like a rusty old clothesline.

This morning Tori was reading about peasant revolts in Eastern Europe. Meanwhile, the resident bears were plotting a revolt of their own.


Fuzz and Hiccup, from their lofty perch, called the meeting to order.



"Attention, everybody," they said, sounding quite pompous (they'd been practising this for hours). "Assemble, please. No pushing or shoving. Snowmen, no melting on the couch." They banged a tiny whisk until (almost) everyone was silent.




A discussion then ensued regarding the plight of the bears trapped in a toy store window on Granville Island. Fred's description of flattened fur and muffled cries for help, through the plate glass window, horrified everyone.

"We'll need weapons," Hightop the Giraffe proclaimed, and there followed a mad scramble, as the stuffies dashed with great haste into the kitchen, to claim their utensil of choice.



The plot thickened. Pulses quickened. Suggestions were offered, modified, discussed, dismissed. There was a flurry of excitement about a knitted net and eyes grew wide when chocolate brownies as a decoy was suggested.



Finally, three hours and 47 minutes after the meeting had begun, Sam spoke up in a tentative voice. "Excuse me," he said, "but didn't Carrie tell us that Grover wanted to be in on things? Maybe he can be our fearless leader. Shall we call him after second breakfast tomorrow?"

The stuffies decided that was a great idea and, before you could blink, Fuzz and Hiccup had slithered down the CD tower, popped a DVD into the player, grabbed the remote, turned on the television and settled down happily with their friends to watch an episode of Gilmore Girls - their favourite show in the whole wide world.

I may be thinking about spring, now that the snowman convention is over and the participants have packed up their bags and headed north, but it's still pretty cold here!! Fortunately I have LOTS of tea.

My hand hovers over the keyboard, relucant to make the first keystroke on this blank page on the first day of the new year. I sit poised, pondering, as I might regard a brand new handmade journal with unmarked pages or a sheet of watercolour paper. Deep breath.

A touch of flu dogged me through the days following Christmas and so I didn't read or write or blog or walk as much as I had hoped. My vacation time disappeared, it seems, in the blink of an eye. I could feel overwhelmed right now, if I let myself, but I'm not going to. I have letters to write, piles to tidy, clutter to sort, books to return to the library but those are all good things.


source unknown

My life feels a little like this pile of frogs. But look at it. There is no dissonance in this picture. They are heaped in charming disarray. Listen to them chirping:

Move to the left. No, your other left.
Ouch!! my shoulder.
Hey, nice legs.
Who, me?
Can you get your finger out of my ear?
Is this my best side?

Yes, I feel a little like this pile of frogs, ready to leap into grand adventures in this new year. Dancing to the beat of my own drummer. Peeking around corners and over rocks. Surfing the waves, swinging on swings.

That's the life I want this year. And I have the power to make it happen. How exciting is that? One aspect of this, at least as far as my writing is concerned, is that I have banished my inner editor with instructions to emerge when invited, to speak only when spoken to.


from Ikea

This is a picture of Inner Editor's magnificent home. If she's not happy there, I've told her she's welcome to move to Baltimore.

It's almost midnight now. The witching hour. I am weary. But before I go, here's a link to my first Tuesday Walk of the year.