Car wash

This post is for my friend K____ who always takes Fiona under her wing while Noah and I are busy at quartet rehearsals, sometimes sitting down with her to look through this blog and read and talk about the stuff they find here ... and who bugged me about not posting about the bottle drive her family and mine worked a couple of weeks ago. "Well," I said, "I forgot to bring the camera, and I don't write blog posts if I don't have a photo to get me started."

So this morning when we headed out for another community fundraiser I knew I'd need to remember my camera or lose all credibility. I brought it to the car wash and it only got a little wet. The kids worked hard from 11 until 3 pm. I guess we must have washed more than 50 cars. The car wash is an annual spring event run by the community club, with monies donated to groups who help provide manpower. This year a significant part of that manpower was provided by the local members of Corazón Youth Choir and their families.

Fiona enjoyed her special role as Keeper of the Keys, hanging onto the ignition keys during the pre-wash, wash and rinse stations, and then returning the keys to the vehicle's owner over at the BBQ & beverage waiting area.

Everyone got rather wet, despite rubber boots and rain gear. The high pressure spray (hooked up to a fire hydrant without an excess of pressure down-regulation) was enjoyed by all the kids, and wearing soapy mittens was pretty fun, especially if you applauded! The weather was thankfully very mild on this first day of spring, and the sun even poked out a few times -- though the propane-powered mini-handwarming station was much appreciated.

It was another one of those pretty cool community workbees where adults from various walks of life and children of various ages worked cheerfully alongside each other having fun and doing good work. I'm so glad we live in a small town where these sorts of opportunities regularly present themselves.

Corazón leaves on their tour tomorrow. Another week without Erin!

Holiday lights at the Kohan

Every year sometime over the Christmas holidays we load up the big thermos with hot chocolate and head down to the Kohan Reflection Garden late in the evening. The garden is volunteer-maintained -- we're usually part of the spring and fall work-bees -- and in December a bunch of stalwart volunteers spend hours putting up Christmas lights. It's magical being there. Not to be missed. The kids seem to have a blast. It's hard getting everyone out the door but once we're there no one wants to come home.

Tonight's temp: a relatively balmy -9°C (18°F).

Community Choir

The camcorder went belly up just minutes before the choir concert so Chuck used his little Kodak EasyShare to shoot this. The light levels aren't great -- you can't really see Erin at all, for instance (she's fourth from the right). But you can hear her okay. Her solo kicks in in the second half of the first minute. Noah is on the far right. He's just a delight for me to watch, even in lo-res, blurry and red-lit.

Choir boy

It was the night of the Community Choir Christmas Concert and Noah was singing for the first time. He also wore a tie for the first time. He was a little stressed about the tie thing at first, but eventually decided he quite liked wearing one. He looks pretty smart in it, doesn't he?

The choir was great. Erin sang a fabulous solo. Noah sang with such obvious enjoyment and commitment.

What I loved almost as much as watching my kids sing was the enthusiasm of the rest of the choir for their participation. It's true that the soprano section would have been seriously lacking in numbers without my kids and their friend -- there are only three other sopranos this year. But they love the cheerful energy and enthusiasm the younger members of the choir bring. Choir members kept thanking me for them. Err, uh, you're welcome!

Christmas by the Lake 2008

It started last year and was a tremendous success. It's a European-style indoor/outdoor Christmas market and community event organized by a number of community-minded folk, in particular those who have moved here from Germany in the past couple of decades. It's held in the open area in front of a local gallery and multi-purpose building, on the large lawn which also houses the outdoor mining museum. In amongst the displays of old rock drills, Pelton wheels and tramways, they erect a sound stage, a bratwurst gazebo, an indoor artisans' market, a couple of bonfire rings with bannock and chestnuts a-roasting, an ice slide, ice sculptures and a dozen or so outdoor booths selling handicrafts, treats, hot beverages and soups.

We were away in Calgary for most of the event this year, but it was the first item on the agenda upon our return from Calgary Saturday evening. Erin and I had to take off immediately for one of her choir performances in Nelson. The kids made use of the new-fallen snow to build a magnificently huge snowman on a corner of the site. They got a little help from their dad with the mega-snowball-wielding, and then later added a straw beard and some charcoal eyes. Somehow a carrot was nowhere to be found.

Last year the temperatures were well below minus 10 Celsius (14F) the whole three days. I'll never forget Erin and her quartet trying to perform in those temperatures. This year things were really a little too balmy, hovering right around the freezing point the whole time. Still, the ground stayed mostly white and it didn't actually rain at any point.

I managed to get there today for an hour or so. I saw the snowguy in all his soggy bearded glory. The ice slide was listing a little to port but was otherwise functional -- and was being greatly enjoyed by the children. The glüwein was hot and delicious. It was a great place to bump into people and chat. The kids formed a chattering ring around the central bonfire. You can see Erin above in the light teal jacket, wearing her silk green choir shirt and black pants; she was on her way to yet another choir performance.

Last year Christmas by the Lake felt like it had the makings of an instant family and community tradition. It is now firmly entrenched amongst our December traditions. I think it represents the official beginning of the holiday season for us.

Here and There Slocan

Sophie, Fiona and I have started a Daily 'City' Blog, in case any of you who follow this blog are interested in daily glimpses of our community and environment as the seasons pass. It's called Here and There Slocan. I'll add it to the sidebar too.

Singing the praises of choirs

This is part of the soprano section of Corazón, the youth choir that Erin sings in. They have guys -- broken teen male voices -- a real rarity in North American choirs. Over the past three years this choir has become a powerful draw in Nelson. It has energy, and a reputation, and teens want to be part of it. Even young men. There is very little tradition of choral singing here, so a dynamic choir director starting a youth choir is pretty much starting from scratch. When Allison started Corazón about five years ago, it was just a small handful of teenaged girls who had grown a little too old for the children's choir. I heard them back then just learning to sing in parts and thought "that's nice."

I hear them now and I think "wow!" This year they are sixty strong, and building each year on the pinnacle of the year before. They are singing complex four- and five-part traditional choral and world music arrangements. Here's a rather poor-quality YouTube sampler from their concert a year ago -- and believe me, they're bigger and better and stronger now.

Erin, who had had to give up the children's choir program in Nelson after a couple of year due to scheduling issues, heard them last spring and decided on the spot that she wanted to join. I knew it was going to be a scheduling nightmare, but I realized that I have a kid who is absolutely passionate about music who has no peer-group of similarly-afflicted teens. The couple of local teens who are also violinists are nowhere near her level. The one who is within two or three years of her level lives almost an hour away. Her experience this summer, travelling and performing with musical teens, made it clear that getting her into contact with other teens who "do music," a given for most music students anywhere else, should be a priority.

We managed to work it out by doing some pretty brutal re-arranging of piano lessons, violin lessons, my teaching schedule, orchestra and group class. It was rather a domino effect in our weekly schedule and the schedules of our local music students, but sometimes there's something pretty special going on that you know is so perfect for your family that you just have to make it work. As it turns out Erin and D. and her friend S. are all doing Corazón, so all three come out of school at noon on Tuesdays and I drive them down to Nelson for the afternoon. My girls do their piano lessons while D. and S. hang out downtown and have a lovely time, and then we all meet up at the church for rehearsal and head home together, grabbing a ritual decaf or chai on the way and arriving back at 7 pm.

So far it's been amazing. There's additional strength in the bass section now and the quality of the choir's sound is maturing as these kids gain experience. They're planning a big swanky tour in March. There are concerts next month and more in the spring. Rehearsals are hard-working affairs and they're down to the nitty-gritty now. Erin has of course learned the music very easily and feels comfortable. The girls are all having fun. We're all enjoying the carpooling.

I have no choir background. Except for the summer family choir which I do for 5 days each August with my younger kids, I haven't sung in a choir since elementary school. The local community choir has always been something I dreamed of singing in one day, but its rehearsals conflict with my work, and now my kid have claimed it as theirs.

Which brings me to the local community choir. They're a bit of a diamond in the rough. I'm not sure why our town should have such a great choir, but people drive from neighbouring towns to be part of it. Erin, Noah and D. are the three under-40's now singing in that choir -- giving Erin and D. a double repertoire of music that they're madly learning. This is Erin's third year and the other kids' first. Noah got swept up in choir euphoria this summer and I made a quiet diplomatic request of our local choir director. It's an adult choir. She had made an exception for Erin the year she was 13, and had occasionally welcomed older high school kids in the past. But asking her to take in Noah, at age 11 -- well, I knew she had once tried to develop a kids' choir and had decided she never wanted to do that again. So I asked quietly and carefully, fully expecting her to say no. But he had proven himself in the summer school choir with a bunch of adults, and our local director agreed.

So he's loving it and is doing well. He comes home from Monday evening rehearsals bubbly and energized. I wondered if it was mostly that he enjoyed being there with Erin and D., if he liked the banter and humour of the rehearsals. But then a couple of weekends ago due to illness and conflicting schedules, he ended up arriving at a first-soprano sectional rehearsal where he and a 40-something woman were the only singers there. The director was there as a coach, and she is someone he knows, sort of, as a peripheral family friend and I think he likes her -- she's a fun retired lady with a sense of humour and a knack for putting people at ease and a nice manner with my kids. So I just left Noah in the little back room of her house, assuming another soprano or two would likely show up late. I worried a little about how he'd feel being there without Erin, without D., with perhaps only three or four people to sing with. But I figured worrying wouldn't do any good, so I shrugged and headed home.

When I picked him up an hour later I asked how rehearsal had gone. It turned out there were just two sopranos, him and the other lady, plus the director. "It was good," he said. "Erin wasn't there, so I felt comfortable asking a few questions I wouldn't have otherwise. We got some good work done."

Well. Who would have guessed. My shy homebody of a little guy, comfortable as anything singing away, almost solo, in a room with two women of his mother's generation and beyond, and coming home pleased with the work they'd accomplished and not giving a thought to the demographics of the social mix.

This is what I love about choirs, that they're great social bridges, that musical cohesion can be achieved despite vast mismatches in age, musical training and social roles. They're so accessible. Under the right director an incredible amount of synergy can develop in a very short period of time with no more raw material than motivated people. Choirs have a kind of grass roots energy that is alive, that springs directly from human bodies with nothing else in the way.

I never cry at string performances, but I inevitably cry at any choir performance where young people are singing.

Nuru School

One of our favourite local cafés is Nuru Design. It is a house-front workshop / gallery / café (and once a week or so there's also a hair salon in the very back). They make hand-painted clothing using Japanese-inspired motifs and styles, and sell their wares as well as a few other lines of nice artsy gift-type stuff. The coffee is excellent, the small selection of lunch things and snacks is divine, and the ambiance is great. There are three tiny tables inside, another three on the enclosed porch, and small bar counters in both locations.

This afternoon we girls were on the Nuru porch. Erin had been at school, but decided to meet us for "café school" for a break. She had worked on her writing course portfolio over lunch hour and then took off fourth block to join us. She had a mocha and worked on chemistry.

Fiona and Sophie worked on math. Both are closing in on the very end of their current level in workbooks and are keenly pursuing forward progress. They both opted for a English-toffee flavoured milk steamers, a combination Fiona came up with in Nelson a few weeks ago which is surprisingly tasty if the flavour syrup isn't overdone.

I had my usual vanilla latté and did some knitting. And browsed from one kid to another as they had questions or wanted me to check answers.

We were probably there for an hour. People came and went. We chatted with each other and with the proprietors and other patrons. A bit of math and science got done. A few rows of a mitten got knitted. And then we headed out to watch bald eagles and take photos, and Erin headed over to the school for a bit before going to her grandmother's to practice violin.

VSSM back and forth

While the SVI is circumscribed within the local K-12 public school, the VSSM week currently taking place is a metastatic entity infiltrating two adjacent villages. It is almost three times as big, with string players, pianists and choristers, adult amateurs, music appreciation enthusiasts and young children looking for a first exposure to musical activities. Lessons take place in the school, the nursing home activity room, a variety of community halls and buildings, private homes, vacant storefronts, a firehall, churches and a dental clinic. You may be wondering what becomes of the dentist during the VSSM week. He takes the week off of dentistry and instead drives the courtesy shuttle bus back and forth between the two villages. Everything here is transformed for the week. Music pours out of open doors everywhere.

Erin is enrolled as a piano student during the VSSM week. She'd really rather have focused on violin, but at VSSM for a variety of reasons the piano program is a better fit for her. And it's really her only opportunity to put the primary focus on her 'second instrument.' This year she opted to do chamber music on piano rather than picking up her violin in the afternoon to do orchestra. It turned out to be a lucky choice -- she's been placed in the most advanced piano chamber group with a bunch of very advanced string students and is being coached by some pretty dynamite Winnipegers. She's doing a full six-hour a day program which includes 90 minutes of Adult Choir. Fiona, Sophie and I are just singing in Family Choir -- no string stuff at all for us. Noah opted to sing in the Adult Choir, his first foray into sort-of-sight-singing and four-part arrangements. (I say 'sort of' because the director does help the weaker readers by giving some by-ear help.) He's loving that. And he's also managing to squeeze in private coaching on viola and is doing the "lower advanced" orchestra, playing the Holst "St. Paul's Suite."

All of which means a lot of back-and-forthing. Today, for example, went like this. New Denver at 9, then home. New Denver at 12, then home. Silverton at 12:50, and New Denver at 1:00, the back to Silverton at 2:30, back to New Denver at 2:40, then home. Silverton at 3:45. Home at 4:30. Silverton again at 5:00 and home again. Silverton again at 6:30 pm and home one last time. We opted to give the 7 pm concert in Silverton a miss tonight, after going to last night's. In between driving back and forth I cooked meals, made bag lunches, dealt with the garden and the animals and pulled noxious weeds. The usual stuff.

Is it worth it? After the SVI week the VSSM often seems a bit too chaotic and impersonal for our liking. If we had to go away and pay lots of money to do it we would just stick with the SVI. But here are all these great players and teachers in the midst of our tiny rural villages, and so we can treat it as a smorgasbord and simply pick and choose the classes and teachers that suit us. We don't have to do the full-meal deal. And even considering the taxiing back and forth, it works really well for us.

For instance, Erin's having a heck of a week. Tomorrow she's being coached as a pianist in her chamber quintet by the concertmaster of the Winnipeg Symphony alongside some phenomenal young string players. And about an hour later she's having a violin lesson from the same woman. The advanced piano teacher / coach (the aforementioned violinist's husband) has apparently been quite impressed with her so far this week. And today she was invited into an amazing teen choir based out of Nelson by the director of the Adult Choir. Invited isn't exactly the word. Erin confessed an interest and Allison seemed almost in raptures that she'd be willing to come all that way to sing with them. ("Gone for two months right before the spring tour? Don't worry ... we'll find a way to make it work!")

Erin's life seems rather charmed lately for reasons I don't entirely understand. Don't get me wrong -- I love her dearly and think she's amazing. But I'm stunned that so many other people feel the same way about her when she's so reserved and seemingly difficult to get to know. But people seem to like her ... and these days she seems to actually like people back. She's looking for challenge and adventure and it seems to be finding her.

Community work crew

Today is Set-Up Day for our local Suzuki Institute. My kids are so excited to be heading into their intensive music weeks on home turf, they are thrilled to be part of the set-up crew. We got to the school this morning to move a piano and help with organizing things there only to discover that my compulsive mom and her compulsive sidekick had organized the stink out of the place already. We moved some chairs and stools, set up the T-shirts, put up signs and then it really was done. We had spent only an hour at it. It didn't seem enough. We were still raring to go.

The performance venue, recently renovated, still needed to be set up. Mysteriously one of the other members of the set-up crew had been warning my compulsively over-prepared mom away, telling her she shouldn't really go and see the venue yet. My kids and I headed over to see what we could do to help set up. The village has been adding a set of washrooms at the back, renovating store-rooms, preparing to move in a whole new set of interior equipment -- staging, chairs, etc.. It was definitely still a construction zone when we arrived. There was dirt, mud and drywall dust everywhere. Everywhere. The electrician was there with his huge heaps of tools and supplies, the bathrooms weren't finished, a volunteer brigade of locals was there pulling apart the temporary staging, trying to clean up bats of rotting fibreglass insulation, unpacking chairs and portable staging, risers, music stands. Keep in mind that the opening performance for our Suzuki Institute is tomorrow afternoon!

Well, we set to work. The kids worked really hard. They tore sticky labels off 250 brand new chairs and moved them down from the balcony two at a time. They used tools and instructions to assemble all the music stands. They swept and mopped and swept and mopped. The cleared a storage room, moved scores of wooden chairs upstairs and surplus new chairs into storage. They assembled the staging, they set up 200 audience chairs, pushed the concert grand around, swabbed railings and finials, hand-washed stairs, washed and moved tables, took down outdated signage, hauled dollies around, packed construction debris out. It took about 3 1/2 hours, and we didn't do it all ourselves by any stretch, but the transformation was amazing and the kids were a huge part of it. In that short space of time the venue went from a construction zone to a spankingly improved community hall looking its best. A good day's work.

At the market

The younger two girls decided to take their turn busking at the market today. The weather was great and they arrived in good time for the busy part of the market. Sophie started with her "set" and got people's attention. She played for 15 or 20 minutes and took in a lot of cash as people noticed and expressed their appreciation. Then she and Fiona did a set together and that's when the applause began happening. There were even people besides me taking pictures. Donations continued to pour in. Those girls have serious cuteness when they play together!

Finally Fiona finished up with a set on her own. People are always fascinated by her tiny violin and the big 'real' sound that comes out of it. One of the market ladies reminded me that Fiona had begun her busking career three years ago when her siblings were playing together and she was 'playing along' on her cardboard violin, even though she wasn't yet taking lessons. Hard to believe that was three years ago, but then I look at the competent little musician she's become and of course it's been three years.

Sophie brought her cash home to apply to her ledger. Money burns a hole in Fiona's pocket these days, at least if it's the jingly kind that you can run your fingers through, so afterwards she headed straight for Morgen's market stall and bought herself a new Inkyspider T-shirt. Her last Inkyspider shirt had long been a favourite but recently met with some sort of mysterious outdoor mishap. So this was a thrilling and timely purchase from the morning's violin-generated windfall. And hurrah for shopping locally and supporting local artisans.

Easy money

Erin is about to head out to Edmonton and Montreal for three weeks. Wanting to pad out her credit card account with a bit more spending money, she decided to head down to the Friday Market in town with her violin. When she got there it was very busy. She hedged for a while, browsing the stalls, then cowering in a corner wondering whether she'd work up the nerve to play. She's fine playing on stage, but in that case she's doing something everyone expects. To take people by surprise, that required a bit more courage. She wished she'd brought a sibling for company.

Finally she got her violin out and squatted on the grass beside her case. She was still not quite sure she would play. "It's just the first note I can't play," she moaned. They early rush on the market had already begun to clear out a little. Finally three young children came and stood right in front of her, staring at her violin expectantly. That was the push she needed: she took the leap. And of course, after the first note it was easy.

She played for almost an hour -- Eccles, Mozart, Bach, more Bach, Veracini, Handel and more Bach. There was sixty-four bucks in her case when she finished. Easy money. She probably wishes she hadn't waited to start the Friday Market gig until a few days before she's due to leave. Next week her siblings are keen to open their cases up in her stead.

Oooh!! Ahhh!!

Canada Day fireworks. The weather was fine, unlike yesterday when evening brought a humongous thunderstorm and wicked whitecaps on the lake. Tonight was calm and balmy, though overcast. The whole town, plus all the current tourists, gathered in the park near the waterfront. The volunteer fire department set of the fireworks over the lake. We oohed and ahhh'd and applauded. The cracks and booms echoed off the mountains around the lake over and over, for at least 10 seconds after each volley.

I wish I'd used the camera to capture Fiona's face. In past years fireworks have been fun and exciting but also somewhat terrifying to her. This year they brought pure excitement. Her face was priceless, lit up by a maniacal grin and the red and gold of the explosions of light.

Back at 'er

Clavicle girl did her first soccer practice since her injury today. Half of it; she skipped the scrimmage at the end in case it was too rough. She's still a little hesitant -- a big bang or a fall can make her collarbone really hurt. But she was happy to be back doing a bit of soccer.

Her team is made up of 5- to 7-year-olds and she's the second-youngest. Maybe it's because most of the other kids are at school all day, but gosh, 3:15 rolls around and it's soccer time and you'd think they'd be happy to run and kick and shriek with their awesome coaches. But no, they are standing there with bottom lips stuck out and arms crossed, or crying because they don't get to be partnered with Liam, or yelling angrily at each other because someone else kicked the ball past them rather than to them, or stomping off the field because they had to line up.

And then there's my tyke. I am blessed with children who are absolute dreams in group activities and classroom situations. She's always cheerful, always on-task, always paying attention to instructions, and willing to roll with things when they get weird. She explained today's practice to me, with giggles:

"All the kids were fighting. And yelling at each other and getting mad. And I was just standing there, waiting, with my foot on the ball. And they were all mad and fighty. I waited and waited, just standing there with my foot on a ball. And finally I got my turn to do the passing drill. I was waiting, like, forever!"

She still likes soccer. It's worth waiting through the fightyness.

Quite a weekend

Yesterday morning Chuck did a run up the mountain to our first-stage water intake and discovered that there's still about six feet of snow and debris over top of our little dam. Definitive repair will have to wait for a while -- maybe a couple of weeks or more. For now we're getting enough seepage to keep the reservoir full so long as we don't use too much water. We even let the younger kids play in the sprinkler for a while yesterday.

In the evening a string trio was performing as a fund-raiser for our summer arts programs. I managed to be there two hours early to set up the multimedia stuff for our open house (PowerPoints, DVDs, etc.) and get all the kids and Chuck there in time for the performance. We're definitely all concert'ed out. Enough concerts for a while, thank you very much. Counting the two filmfest nights I think we've done seven concerts in the past 3 weeks, most in the last week and a half. We went home tired.

On the way to the concert we'd heard that a mud and rock slide had closed the highway south of us. Since the next morning involved an early start to an all-day Aikido seminar 5 km south of the slide, this was rather disturbing news. I checked the internet before bed; it said one lane was now open to alternating traffic. Thank goodness! The closure would have turned a half-hour drive into a three-hour drive.

Shortly after we got home, the power went out. Fiona, who was asleep by then, awoke in the middle of the night without her reassuring nightlight and came upstairs to her parents' bedroom for comfort. She fell on the way up the pitch-dark stairs. Middle of the night tears ensued. She settled.

This morning I roasted coffee and boiled water on the BBQ. Coffee first. We arranged to loan our generator to a group running a story-telling event (with multimedia) in the evening as part of our community's May Days celebration. Then the younger three and I headed out to the Aikido seminar on the assumption that the single lane was still open. It was. Fiona was to be part of the first hour and a half, then I would bring her home and Sophie and Noah would stay for the rest of the day.

Fiona, in an effort to keep up with all the big kid stuff going on, did a flying roll and landed wrong, fracturing her collarbone. Not a nasty fracture as these things go, but she's sore and it was very sad. Especially since it happened about 2 minutes after I left the dojo to go fill my gas tank at a nearby gas station with electrical power. For three months I have waited at the dojo through every minute of aikido classes. I leave for 14 minutes and my kid immediately snaps her collarbone! She was comforted by her sensei (thankfully both sensei were there and one was able to take time out with her). I took her home sobbing. I should mention that dogi belts make perfect figure-of-eight bandages, and she got a lot of comfort from that. The car seat restraint harness also felt pretty good on her shoulder, and she fell asleep for most of the trip.

Back home through the road-clearing at the mud-slide site, we got the generator hooked up to the sound system at the community hall in preparation for the story-telling night. Erin headed off to the home of her Asia-trip compatriots for a BBQ, planning session and get-together including her two adult friends, the third adult on the trip and her 13yo daughter. The girls had never met, but seemed to enjoy each other, which is great, since they'll be sharing each others' lives fairly intimately for three months next winter.

Fiona and I came home and cozied up for some readaloud time in the hammock. It was the sort of time you'd like to buy a kid an ice cream, but there was nothing available, power being out, the stores and their freezers being closed up. Alternatively it was a good time for lying on the couch watching a favourite video. Alas, that wouldn't work either. But we read, and chatted, and she gradually felt better.

We went back and picked up Noah and Sophie. We were in time to watch the belt testing. Noah and/or Sophie may be eligible for this at the fall seminar, so they were curious and also apprehensive. It was handled beautifully by the sensei. They'd had a lovely day, though Sophie had injured her foot about halfway through and Noah had given his nose quite a scrape during the massive game of hide-and-seek the group had played after lunch in the forest. Between Sophie's limp, Noah's nose and Fiona's broken bone, and miscellaneous stiffness, scrapes and bruises, they were a pretty poor sight. Two lanes of traffic were open on the way home, so that at least was easy.

We made a quick supper on the campstove. Headed out the story-telling event, which was lots of fun. When we were driving back from retrieving the generator we realized there was traffic redirection happening again at the main intersection in town. They'd had to close the highway again. We may have to take the other "long" way around to Nelson tomorrow morning to get Erin to piano lesson. It's not much longer, but a bit.

The kids practiced by candlelight. I washed dishes by hand for ages, as we'd been ignoring the kitchen all day. We read by the light of a lantern. I cinched Fiona's splint up tight for the night and put her to bed.

Now I'm up late at the computer because our power has finally come on. It was out for about 23 hours. They had been predicting "up to two days" so I guess we should be thankful it was just one. Our water is flowing enough for the necessaries. Perhaps the highway will be open by tomorrow.

It has been quite a weekend so far. Power outages are pretty common here, but this was a longer-than-usual one and the coincidence with water troubles and highway closures made it seem like someone was really out to get us. Kind of reminds me of the week leading up to and including the August long weekend last summer. Perhaps tomorrow will bring a bit more normality.

Film Festival

The fine arts society that I'm a board member and webmaster for oversees the running of three weeks of music summer school programming, two weeks of drama offerings in July and a week of Animation & Film in May. The FilmFest was this week. We attended both nights as a family. That meant yet another nutty Thursday that had us scrambling from Aikido through dinner in the van straight on to an evening event, but it was worth it.

The nearest movie theatre to our little town is 90 minutes away. We make the trek about once a year ... for first run showings of film versions of books we can't wait for the DVD version of. Narnia, Harry Potter, Golden Compass. But otherwise we are movie-theatre bereft.

Except during the first week of May. The community hall adopts a popcorn machine, the chairs are all unstacked and placed in rows, a large screen is brought in and a projector rented. And we make space in our harried week for two evenings of great animated films. We had just finished reading Persepolis and were thrilled to see that. And we saw some absolutely amazing animated shorts. It was so much fun to have two professional animators there to host the evening of shorts, talking about the techniques and artistic influences of the various film-makers.

The last 24 hours

We are through! Within the last 24 hours the kids had the last two in their set of three big year-end ensemble concerts. Last night the Summit Suzuki Strings (newly named and newly costumed in their fetching red polo shirts) performed the following:

• Sakura Sakura
• Bach Concerto for 2 violins in d minor - Largo ma non tanto & Vivace
• Concerto Grosso in F Major by Corelli - Largo & Gavotta-Allegro
• Londonderry Air

Except for the Bach, these were three- or four-part arrangements for violin-viola ensemble.
Some from memory, some not. The ensemble was brilliant. They comprised the first third of the community choir concert. Erin is also a first soprano in the community choir and she sang a brilliantly beautiful solo in a choral arrangement of "Nella Fantasie" (there's a version here if you're interested). I cried.

Today was the orchestra concert. Noah's quartet played the following:

• Mozart Quartet in C Major, K. 157, Allegro
• Yesterday by Lennon & McCartney
• Eleanor Rigby by Lennon & McCartney

Erin's quartet played:

• Haydn Quartet No. 35 "The Lark", Allegro

The Suzuki strings played a 4-part arrangement of:

• Handel Bourrée

The orchestra played:

• Concerto in g minor for 2 celli, Allgro by Vivaldi
• "A Pirate's Legend" by S.H. Newbold
• Scenes from the Emerald Isle by C. Gruselle
• Mantras by R. Meyer
• Deerpath Suite "Open Lands" by W. Hofeldt
• Ave Verum Corpus by Mozart
• El Toro by D. Brubaker

It was a heck of a lot of different repertoire for the kids. And a heck of a lot of organizing, taxiing, coaching, music-stand moving, poster-nailing, floor-sweeping, program-typing and announcing for me. The audiences were great, very appreicative.

The other night we happened to be searching through old video tapes for something else and stumbled across a tape of the community orchestra concert from 1998. That was the orchestra's third season and it was about four years before our local Suzuki students began trickling into the orchestra. It was amazing to see how far we've come. That first crop of students is now the backbone of the orchestra. And the improvement in intonation, ensemble and musicality is astronomical. I feel happy. Happy that we're done with the major concerts of this spring's season, but happy for what seems to be building here in our little town.

The dojo floor

I read a fascinating book years ago about the Japanese school system. Having grown up a Suzuki kid I knew a bit about Japanese cultural influences on education, and about some of the educational rituals. Another great source of cultural tidbits, presented especially for children, is Here and There Japan, a blog which covers many of these little school rituals and trappings. I've always been entranced by the way a sense of community responsibility is built through the expectation that students work together to clean and care for their learning space.

I'm watching this expectation being built at the kids' aikido dojo. It's a new dojo, and the sensei is fairly new to instructing children. And I think he's gradually working out how many of aikido's Japanese cultural influences can be introduced to these hippie valley kids.

There is the standard ritual of bowing to the shomen (scroll) upon entering the room, and before leaving. They all get it now, about respecting the space and the scroll and the tradition it represents. There are rules of respectful interaction that kick in inside the dojo. There's a sense that passing between the curtains means adopting a different set of social mores. For the most part the kids get that. Higher standards of behaviour apply inside the dojo.

In past weeks we've sometimes arrived early for the Thursday class and so we've helped Sensei wash down the mats. The other kids have been encouraged to join as they arrived. But this week the bucket of warm soapy water and wiping cloths was waiting for everyone and Sensei was not already hard at work washing the mats down.

"This is what you guys are responsible for from now on," explained Sensei. "This dojo is for all of you -- it's not just my dojo. If you're part of this club, you help keep it clean."

And then followed a brief but exacting lesson on proper floor washing. And the kids washed the entire immense floor in the space of about five minutes. Without a single complaint, and with an affirming sense of their own efficiency and accomplishment. And, I would wager, a stronger sense of the value of contributing simple work to one's community.

Is it really this easy? Even with our independent-minded far-from-Japanese kids? There is a lesson to be learned here for sure.

Bovine theatre

We don't exactly live in an agricultural area. It's mountains and forest here. And snow. We are in an area defined by rural do-it-yourself self-sufficiency, and lots of people eke out little gardens here or there, cheating the short growing season with plastic and glass. But there are no fields of wheat or corn, and farms in the area tend are few and far between, often limited to just a few animals on a small acreage for family use.

Our unschooling friends and neighbours live just outside village limits, on a small bench of land just before the road heads up towards our place and on to the pass. And on that sunny bench of just under three acres, they're entertaining a stab at self-sufficiency. A year ago they installed temporary shelter for themselves, moved to the land and began planting a garden. They fenced a meadow and began accumulating livestock. They're outgoing community-minded people on a piece of land that is highly visible, so lots of folk have taken a benevolent interest in what they're trying to do. They now have dogs, cats, goats, sheep, rabbits, chickens and a dairy cow. Their vast beds of garlic and onions are sprouting already. Everyone is interested in what's new at the new little farm.

So when their dairy cow went into labour yesterday, it was a bit of a community event. It was a lovely warm afternoon; the sun was out and the timing was good for a lot of people, including our family. At peak count there were twenty-seven people sitting on the 'bleachers' (a stack of logs) in the corner of the meadow watching the cow. It really was the social event of the week.

Barb-Rose the cow is the proud mom of a little male calf.

Lunch out

Once or twice a month the kids and I go out for lunch. We all love this tradition, especially because we tend to do this on the spur of the moment, in a way that makes it feel like a special surprise. The most recent lunch occasion was right after visiting John & Will. First stop was the Post Office. Taking the key and heading to the squat little 1960's post office building to open our box and look for the day's mail is one of Fiona's favourite jobs. You can see that she is joyfully skipping her way up the street with Sophie. We mail-order a lot, so sometimes there will be a parcel. Sometimes there are magazines for the kids, and once or twice a week a Zip DVD arrives. It's always exciting to see what's in the mail, even if it's just "boring doctor stuff."

Generally speaking we alternate between our two favourite restaurants. One of the two is a sort of phantom restaurant. It is a home-based soup-making business that takes over a summer-time restaurant owned by someone else every Wednesday during the off-season, serving its own simple fare. It's open for three hours once a week and that's it. There is usually the choice of two different soups, and on a good day there may be one other choice. There are beverages and a few cookies and brownies to choose from but nothing else. Payment is by cash only. By mid-afternoon on Wednesday the place is empty and closed up and you'd never know that there had been thirty locals crowding their way in for some of the best soup they'd ever tasted -- and a coming-out-of-the-winter-woodwork social event that has friends who might not have seen each other for a month or two greeting each other, sharing news and complaining about the snow and the muddy ruts on their mountain laneways.

But if it's not Wednesday when we surprise ourselves with lunch out, we go to the other café, the one that's been around for many years and is a local institution. The Apple Tree has a lovely little garden and picnic benches where people eat when the weather is warm, but at this time of year, the indoor tables suffice. There's a cozy wood stove, and an owner and staff who have a lot of fun with their jobs. This is a café with a lot of personality. Click on the photo to see an enlargement of the sandwich-board sign for a glimpse of the personality of the place. Informal and formal community meetings are often held at the Big Table, arrangements are made, messages are left, news is exchanged and the wheels that move our community are greased.

We've been going there for lunch every month or two for so long that the staff knows us well. Chuck rarely joins us for lunch, but on one memorable occasion I wasn't there and he was trying to order on the kids' behalf at the counter -- and the staff filled him in on what he should be asking for. "They'll have 'Burkholder Bagels' -- sesame bagels with half orders of cream cheese, toasted, and with a dill pickle on the side. And usually limonatas."

There is no fast food where we live. In the summer, tourism kicks in and the Apple Tree gets crowded but things don't speed up. Sometimes, at the height of summer, we have to wait more than half an hour after ordering for our sandwiches, and we have to share our picnic table with other people. The café is tiny and the owner has no interest in expanding his business; like so many people in our area, he's here because he has found a pace and simplicity of life that suits him. He isn't about to let "success" upset that balance. It was less than a year ago that he finally caved in and began accepting something other than cash as payment. "Welcome to the 21st century," I commented, noticing the little debit card rig on the counter. "No, I think it's 'welcome to the 1980's,'" he replied. Indeed.