Days 4-5, Working in Calgary

I spend the next two days working out of the Calgary office, downtown. The weather is brisk, cloudy, with spits of rain and lazy bursts of sun. The office is on the sixteenth floor, which gives us pleasant glimpses of the Bow River and a hazy horizon cloaking the mountains. No crisp, clean profile of the Rockies on this visit.

Art and I trade time between my friends' house, Brock and Kathy, and Art's sister, Mary. Both offer their own unique brand of hospitality; Mary and Dan's famous garage that defies descripiton.

And then Brock and Kathy's home, the other half of the "odd couple", their home a study of simplicity and order.

On Tuesday I take a walk at lunchtime, and enjoy a crispy Panini at a local coffee shop. The spring air, warm provolone, and occassional waft of cinnamon from my Chai delight my senses.

A quick anecdote for my UK friend; Brock and Kathy are descended from the Sheffields, the knife-making Sheffields. Kathy agrees that the Canadian croissants are awful, but she assures me that there are proper French bakeries in Calgary.

Did I mention I lost my purse? Art was not surprised, but it shook Mary up enough that she checked that I had all my stuff ever after.

Day 3, Edmonton to Calgary

My students wrap up their final assignments, and Art and I hit the road for Calgary. We pass straight through the city, crossing the North Saskatchewan on the high level bridge. More fields and cattle. These herds are mixed, like rainbow peppercorns sprinkled over the hills.

I nap, but rest eludes me. Inexpicably, my blood sugar rises all day. I will take care to take my lunchtime pill and exercise after eating, and see if that makes a difference.

We take the time to cruise through Art's old neighbourhood. The home he lived in for tweny years is renovated and up for sale again.

We set up the cots we brought with us in Mary's (Art's sister) living room. Mary's heart lives large. Her door is always open.

Day 2, Edmonton Training

This weekend I am wrapping up the second half of a continuing education course for more than a dozen participants. The course is Managing Electronic Records Management at NAIT. The profile of participants has changed over the last couple years. Over half are either looking for work or a promotion from their existing position. It is gratifying watching them supporting each other in their learning.

This evening dad and Dawn treated us to dinner at Runway 29. The pub has a wavy wall, too. Dawn took complete pleasure in watching the game between the Jays and the Rangers. We caught up on all the news. Dawn is worried about dad's health. They are taking full pleasure from life, as long as their bodies let them.

Day 1, Grande Prairie to Hinton

We are about to drive in to Hinton on our way to Edmonton. The weather is mild, with a sprinkling of rain. We got our picture taken leaving Grande Cache by a pair of tourists from Kentucky on their way to Alaska.

Leaving Grande Cache

They agreed we live in beautiful country. I am grieving the loss of altitude, the wild sharing of verdant spring with wintry heights. I noticed Lone Teepee Creek, winding it's way alongside the road, rushing with the revitalizing waters of spring.

Hinton to Edmonton
The second half of our trip is fairly uneventful, cruising through farmland. I see the beef herds have recovered from the mad cow scare a few years ago. I saw a large herd of Black Angus. Check-in was smooth. I had a pleasant visit with my son at the hospital. He showed me Lois Hole's garden; very soothing. I was also taken by a wavy interest wall in the chapel.

Dinner was at my daughter's. Hubby, Art, opened with, "Pasta Again?", depending on the generosity of others to recognize his peculiar brand of humour. It took a good part of the evening for him to return to Crystal's favour. I enjoyed watching Crystal and Naomi working together in the kitchen, preparing the sphagetti and salad, one on either side of the galley kitchen. Naomi has but an inch to go to catch up with her mother. She turns twelve this month.

After dinner Crystal and I walked the dog through our old neighbourhood. I peeked over the fence at my old garden; the perennials are filling in nicely.

Field Trip Day 0

Hubby and I are off on an expedition of epic proportions, crossing Provincial boundaries, flying puddle jumpers, and clocking hundreds of kilometers on our intrepid Honda. Some have questioned if I am able to separate myself from work to take the time to enjoy myself in the next two weeks.

To prove my capacity for leisure, I will blog our trip daily. Tomorrow morning we pack and set on the road for Edmonton. In Edmonton I will be wrapping up instruction on a Continuing Education course at NAIT, RIM 103 - Managing Electronic Records Management Systems.

Today we rose to a solid bank of fog (cloud), mountains cloaked in foamy spring growth, topped with a fresh icing of snow. I feel like we are living in the shadow of Shangri-La.

I am reading Bob Schacochis' "Swimming in the Volcano". Besides the terrific use of language in this book, it gives a vivid picture of a modern third-world society. The descriptions summarize so well what I've read of the modern history of Africa. "...[would be first-world entrepreneurs act] as courtiers trying to win the attention of a harridan widow, a mauled-over bitch who had inherited the broken kingdoms of her ancestors. Either way, you could hardly call it romance." (p. 109)

Oh, and the book is a fantastic adventure read. Be prepared for a bemused, rollicking ride that overtakes our current collection of best-selling authors.

The Stone Diaries

Having run out of pulp fiction this weekend, I dived in to my collection of classics I had picked up the last time I visited Never Without a Book. (This little second-hand bookstore in Northeast Edmonton is a treasure all in itself. Local bibliophiles owe it to themselves a visit.) The Stone Diaries by Carol Shields, weaves tale of woman in a most fantastical interior shape, a carrot grown in a rocky bed. The story also carries me through the modern history of a corner of Canada; also real in it's taste and sounds.

Very much like my family this one, volumes told by all that is left unsaid.

This worthy book has a few quotes I must keep. Here they are:

Of siblings reminiscing, "They shudder with the heat of their own dramas, awestruck by the doubleness of memory, the hold it has on them, as mysterious as telephone wires or the halo around the head of the baby Jesus. Memory could be poked with a stick, savoured in the mouth like a popsicle, you could never get enough of it." (Motherhood, page 175)

Of a father in the twilight of his life, choosing a new path, "...jubilant, anethetized against tomorrow's faint heart and second thoughts, uncertain whether he was moving close to the center of his life or selling off some valuable part of himself. But immediately, with a shudder of joy, he knew what might be done, could be done. Happiness coursed through him in that instant, decision's homely music." (Ease, page 277)

The same father's regret, "...there are chambers, he knows, in the most ordinary lives that are never entered; let alone advertised, and yet they lie pressed againsts the consciousness like leave specimens in an old book." (Ease, page 279)

Martin Luther King and Occupy

It's been a while since I blogged. Sorry about that. I've been busy relocating to Grande Cache, acquainting myself with the town and the new job, and getting used to the elevation. The view out my window is a bit of rugged bush, pretty average for this part of the country. The weather is unusual today; half the sky is blue and the other half is grim. We are on the grim half of town. A dusting of snow whips by.

Anyways, I am taking a moment to capture the big thoughts I had while finishing "Martin Luther King Jr., His life, martyrdom and meaning for the world" by Willaim Robert Miller. Written by a pacifist, this biography offers a balanced picture of Dr. Martin King. His stellar achievements and crushing doubts are described equally faithfully.  Offered most sympathetically are Dr. King's views on pacifism. In short, push leaders to change - and change now - before the pressure cooker explodes. To the demonstrators, be generous in victory; suppress the urge for revenge. Only this way can positive change result. Here are a few quotes I am preserving,

"[On Mordecai Johnson] ...he had shown ho to harness the redemptive power of love to social issues, and through it, change had come." (p. 30)

"...but both Brightman and his associate, L. Harold DeWolf, had a permanent effect in shaping Martin's lifelong belief in a personal God and in the dignity and worth of every human person." (p. 34)

"King told the crowd that the was often advised to slow down the pace of the freedom revolution, that time would tke care of things. But time is neutral.'It can be used constructively and it can be used destructively. Unfortunately, the extremist, right-wing elements use their time more effectively."...Racism, he said, was a way of life for the vast majority of white Americans. The Poor People's Campaign had to control this ... The campaign would 'call attention to the gap between promises and fulfillment - to make the invisible visible.'" (p. 285)

"The death of Martin Luther King was not the cause of rioting but its occasion...King knew the reasons it was there, and he had pointed them out again and again. If this represented 'criminality', it was not something inborn but the direct result of continuous oppression, the denial of hope, the rejection of repeated appeals." (p. 293)

The big lessons in Dr. King's life are echoed today with the occupy demonstrations sweeping North America. The lessons learned when an oppressed people raise themselves up must not be ignored. Let's also not forget the danger to the unaware oppressors, of deliberate blindness, a dulling of the conscience, where stories of cruelty are suppressed or plainly disbelieved. It is too easy to polarize, demonize, belittle, and ignore change agents. If these people are our brothers, what does it say when we refuse to listen, to respond?

The same dynamics were repeated in the tumultuous modern history of Africa, that I read this past year. Ignorant oppressors are justifiably afraid of public demonstrations pointing out the less pretty side of society. Because the oppressed, once expressed, are on just this shade of violence. If they continue to be ignored.

I believe Dr. King's Poor People's Campaign was visionary. A nation that ignores it's weakest remains vulnerable. I believe these vulnerabilities have never been fullly addressed.

Just last week I posted my mixed feelings about the occupy demonstrators on a discussion board,

"There are shades of history that caution me from judgement. I'm wavering between admiration and annoyance.

•First of all, these kids are not the "other 99". They are a particular subset of society that for whatever reason, has time to check out from routine. I resent that they claim to represent me.

•I resent the 99 as much as I have come to resent the so-called "Moral Majority". As soon as the Religious Right DID gain power, they bankrupted the country. They also make poor losers.

•So I see a correlation between the "other 99" and the "Moral Majority". Both claim to represent an invisible and silent minority; both are more dogmatic than sensible. They should own up that they represent their own sectarian interests.

•To the protester's defence, I think the widening gap between rich and poor is a dreadful testament for a wealthy country. I studied the Human Development index published by the United Nations a few years ago. That widening gap is a pretty good darn indicator that at some point something was going to snap. It is not the richest who earn a nation's pride, it's the country's poorest. What are we doing for those most disadvantaged? There must be a rebalancing of wealth. If the wealthiest won't do it voluntarily, the government (vocal, voted majority) should intervene.

•Be cautious in accepting wild stories happening at these sit-ins. Remember that the boomers of today were hippie protesters of yesteryear. The establishement reacted badly back than. I would like my generation to show greater tolerance. We don't have to set out the dogs or tear gas, do we?"

In conclusion, even though I am doubtful that the demonstrators represent the "other 99", and skeptical of their choice of demons (Corporate America, Big Business), they do express a raging unmet need.

Leaders listen.

As a postscript, I found the story of Dr. King's emerging faith during college to be personally inspiring. It is encouraging to read how a man with highly individual and  tested beliefs could find his way in his church of choice. I'm not so sure the denominations of today have fully taken up his challenge of social responsibility. I note that even the liberal churches today are content to passively petition their governments to do more. There must be personal involvement, I would think, for active change to come about.