Bottle Wall

I got all in a lather at the Earthship seminar in Taos, inspired by the bottle walls. Sure, the concept of Earthships in general was FABULOUSLY inspiring, but time consuming and with an inherent, serious time and money investment. An idea at least five years off for us, at this stage. Someday: our Kootenay Earthship retreat. Or maybe in Antigonish if the entire current city council is hit by a meteor. But nowadays? It's Ramsay until further notice.  

However - just a bottle wall? C'mon! Collect a buncha bottles, set 'em in mortar, and voila. I've got a pretty ghetto yard where anything goes, and any moron can erect a bottle wall if they really want to, right? ...Well, this moron is going to try. In the Spiller Road yard, no less.

First off, like any good artist/planner, I figured I'd "work with the materials" to get a feel for bottles as an artistic-architecturo medium. So I thought a border for the garden would be a good start.

(photo to come of initial bottle border)

Ah. Working on the first border in the location where our carport will eventually be erected in the fall taught me a few lessons. Said lessons:

1) Take labels off bottles

2) Put a time-consuming bottle border in an area of your yard where you are not going to have to tear it out in less than three months

With these new ideas in hand, I selected an area of the front garden where I'd been digging up the grass and sod, with the intention of putting in a shade periwinkle garden a la Sharron & Mary's front yard on Major St. in the Annex. I had a leftover plastic runner in place from the previous jackasses who owned this house, but it was thence jettisoned to make room for the bottle border.

I collected bottles from our own leftovers, Brother John's recycling pile, and through direct recruitment of a few neighbours and friends. In waves as they came in, I soaked the bottles to loosen the labels, and scraped and scrubbed and brushed them clean and anonymously shiny.

This is just a few days before Brother John's wedding - I'm trying out the dress I eventually wore to the rehearsal dinner as I scrape the labels from this night's load of bottles.

Then I dried the bottles in a rather general way by laying them in the yard, near the pre-determined shallow trench where they'd be inserted into the ground.

Akin to drunken gardening, drunken bottle border construction is an equally fulfilling late-nite undertaking when you're a parent of (a) young kid(s).

Photo of finished bottle wall to come!

Categories: Ash | Calgary | House

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John's Wedding Photos On Flickr...

Well, there are many great things about Nakusp, but the internet connection up at Strawberry Hill isn't one of them. I put up about 15 pictures a day last week, there - and it would take all day to upload them. I finally finished the whole lot of them last night, after we got back to Calgary. Sorry for the delay, y'all!

Take a tour through my photos of John's wedding, here; there are other pictures on John's Flickr account, here.

Categories: Family

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Beware The Canadian Wildlife

After the wedding we roadtripped back to Nakusp with Jenna, to spend a few days with Val and Mike at Strawberry Hill. Having Tawn visiting from Hawaii gave us all the chance to be the Canadian know-it-all smartypantses we like to be, so he got the full Nakusp show of getting lost trying to find St. Leon's hotsprings, being chased out of the water by 40-cm leaches and a truly terrifyingly large water bug at Box Lake, rafting on the Slocan River accompanied by a guide who learned the river in his youth "like, totally ZIPPED on shrooms, eh?", the Lesbian Bakery in New Denver ("Spicy Buns!" reads their sandwich board), and the old Nakusp Dairy Farm that we've been eyeing for five years and would buy in a flash if only it wasn't $498,000... so, you know, the usual tour.  

And of course we maintained a running multi-tiered monologue of informational tidbits - Oh, see that plant there? It's called Devil's Club. Spikey stalks, and they get HUGE. But the leaves are good to use as toilet paper in a pinch... Ah, keep your eyes peeled for the osprey nests built along the wood hydro towers here as we head north out of Fauquier, they're so enormous, it's like they're built of whole tree branches... Etcetera. You get the drift. The insider's view. The sights, the sounds, the flora.

Ah, and the fauna. Although there's plenty of wild animals here in the Kootenays that can eat/maim you - bears, snakes, cougars, and so on - I provided Tawn with a close-up view of a different animal attack, that of the common black fly. Goddamn those little fuckers.

Here's the good (unbitten) ear:

And here's the sad ear. Bitten in at least four places, it's all hot to the touch, and hugely swollen:

Turner tells me that last picture doesn't truly represent the swelling (I can't see my own ear that well in the mirror, of course), so here's a closer view. Dig the redness, the shiny-ness, caused by the swelling:

The first night, it was just itchy. But over the whole next day it got worse and worse and bigger and bigger, until I had what felt like a Dumbo-sized ear on one side, and my little normal ear on the other. Back at the ranch here I took a couple of expired antihistamines (1995), and soon thereafter succumbed to the sedative therein, and promptly fell asleep right on the ear.

Today I woke up and the swelling had moved further down my neck and there was a discernable difference in my hearing on the right side! Off to the Emergency Ward at the Nakusp hospital, where my chart eventually read: Severe reaction to fly? insect? bites inside right ear. Recommended - ice packs and up-to-date antihistamines to bring down swelling and prevent spread. In the end the only thing that really provided any proper relief was slathering the whole damn thing with calamine (expired: 2001). Ferris Bueller, you're my hero:

Let that be a lesson to all you would-be hometown tour guides in Canada this summer - wear your bug juice.

Categories: Ash | Canadiana

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Because, Cousin!

Well, the Bristowes descended on Kelowna this weekend to witness the wedding of John and Fiona. Held at the Summerhill winery on a gorgeous day, followed by much cheering and admiring the view and dancing, a fine time was had by all.

At the other two weddings we've had in the family of late, I was the bride and the matron of honour, so I was just a little bit busy. But Fi had everything totally coordinated and arranged, and so I had the great fortune to mainly relax and hang with the cousins. Unfortunately Lauren, Zoe, Kurt, Viki, and Meagan weren't in attendance, but we toasted to them and partied in their names.

And so, an ode to the Bristowe cousinry on this weekend of celebration...

Friday: On our way to the rehearsal dinner - of the many versions of this shot, I had to choose this one... dig Tanya (far left)!

Friday night: The older "responsible" cousins. Which of these ladies a) brought the bong? b) flashed the dancefloor? c) barfed at the vineyard? ...Hey are you kidding, we're adults, we don't do that stuff anymore.

Saturday morning: Sideways-ponytails were the unanimous vote as our hair uniform for the wedding. As you can see, with Viki absent, I definitely win the prize for "biggest boobs".

Saturday afternoon: Post-wedding the cousins reconvene at the hotel to "rest up" for the reception.

Saturday night: We even got to hang with Jenna's hunky Hawaiian boyfriend, Tawn.

Saturday night: The papparazzi view. (photo by Jenna Roussy)

Sunday morning: Brunch wasn't as rough as it might look. After this we said goodbye and everyone headed home, tired but happy.

Categories: Family

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Sloane's Pictoral Week In Review

Sloane thought she'd get a little work done before dinner...

Categories: Sloane

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Woody Creek Tavern

On our way out of Aspen we stopped at Woody Creek Tavern, best known as Hunter S. Thompson's drinkin' hole when he was at home in Colorado. So a'course we had to make the pilgrimage - for lunch. We knew better than to come after dinner when the locals are getting lickered and passing around mescaline. (For a Google maps satellite image of the area, click here. You know, because a satellite image is educational.)

Woody Creek Tavern behind-the-bar cooler. The surly owner/barkeep guy was too famous and important to stay in the shot, it seemed.

Carla, 12:30pm, pissed on their signature lime margaritas. No, just kidding... it's just a funny photo.

Original Thompson for Sheriff poster, from Hunter S. Thompson's 1970 run for sheriff of Aspen, CO. The encumbent had a brush cut, so Thompson shaved his head bald so he could refer to his "long haired opponent" in the public debates. One of his platforms was to change the name of Aspen, then undergoing aggressive gentrification at the hands of upper-class American ski connaisseurs for the first time, to "Fat City". Thompson lost by only a narrow margin of votes.  

Turner ponders the place's gravitas, etc.

So now this one has more context: Sloaner with one of the Woody's Tavern resident dollies - they have a whole bookshelf full of kids' toys... obviously an establishment that has hosted hoardes of wee ones in its time.

Ralph Steadman's memorial to Thompson, the original, signed to Woody's Tavern and framed by the door; the latter's will requested RS to build a giant cannon in the shape of the Gonzo fist, and to fire his (Thompson's) ashes out of it as a final salute. In the lower right corner Steadman has portrayed himself, confused and grieving, carrying a gas can away into the desert. Above, Thompson flies to the heavens.

In the restaurant-recommendations category of things, we thought the guacamole was AWESOME, and they had on special Canadian crab quesadillas which were superbo. Also of note was the Caribbean salad, which had amazing huge shrimp. The margaritas weren't bad, either.

Categories: GeoHope | Turner

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More Photos On Flickr

This is our last full day in Denver, and I've been pounding the photos into Flickr as fast as I can. See the newest ones (I'm up to our first day back in Colorado), here.

Categories: Book Tour | Turner

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That's A Molé!

Turner loves mole. I didn't know this until Brucio arrived, a few days after Sloane's birth, bearing giant bags of Mexican food. He'd driven past some random restaurant in a strip mall on Macleod Trail and, noticing the character wearing a sombrero on the sign, apparently thought to himself: "Ah, Mexican food. The kids [that's us] like foreign food." He peeled in there and walked out with half the menu in takeout boxes. Including, and this is the point, a whole pint of mole sauce. I think it was meant to be poured over one of the dishes.

Turner's love of mole was either born, or rekindled, I don't know which. He ate all that mole single-handedly, days later dipping toast and pita into it, guarding it like a scurvy-sick sailor with the last orange at sea. When it was finally gone, he talked about it in dreamy tones for weeks. Finally we went to find the place - a truly uninspiring exterior in a faceless drive-up mall on the east side of Macleod, north of the bridge after Heritage Drive. I can't remember the restaurant's name, but maybe Turner can weigh in and tell you. Anyway, it promptly became our official favourite Mexican place in Calgary. (And for the record, Salt and Pepper, further north on Macleod and most people's 'favourite Mexican place in Calgary', has nothing on this joint.) We take people there to demonstrate our amazing backalley understanding of Calgary's eating scene.

Postscript: I've been informed that it's Los Mariachis, 1 - 7400 Macleod Trail SE. It's near Tom's Pizza, a local landmark.  

So the mole. Turner has been on a quest for the perfect mole ever since. Tells me about these burritos he had at some birthday party in grade 2, when he was living in St. Louis, MO. Begins scheming about making mole at home. Sniffs out recipes on the internet. And mostly, can't wait to get to the US Southwest, because vats of mole, here he comes.

So it was no surprise when, upon our arrival in Taos, Turner was keen to try out the various Mexican food places around town. For the mole, you understand. But we were never able to do a proper and scientific blanket survey, because the first place we stopped was the best, and we became slavishly devoted and never ate anywhere else. It was humble in terms of appearance - west of town by the 64 turnoff. Rather dust-bitten and windblown. The door would slam and the menu was on one of those old each-plastic-letter-gets-individually-inserted-into-the-white-plastic-background-frame-lines concession boards. But.

The tamales were amazing. The chile relleno was ridiculous, though we had to put ourselves on a ban from it after a few times - too. much. goodness. I thought the Frito pie was a great deal better than it sounded; apparently a regional specialty, it's basically a taco salad involving Frito chips sprinkled in to provide the crunch. And the mole, according to Turner, was the best he'd ever had. Carla and I were deemed unbelievers, but then, we'd never claimed to be mole enthusiasts in the first place.

Our place in Taos, Toribos!

Yes, it really was this bright out. It's the desert, you know.

Hopping on one foot, hopping-hopping, never stopping, hopping on one foot!

Tamales.

Frito salad: before trying it.

Alas, I never got a photo of the mole.

Crossposted to The Geography of Hope blog.

Categories: GeoHope | Turner

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Sloane Ponders The State Building

The Denver capitol dome is apparently the largest gold dome in the world - like, the largest real gold dome. Apparently it's real gold! ...You have to think about that a bit. Real gold. Isn't gold heavy? How did they get it up there? Howcome it doesn't cave in? ...But then, I guess a dome is the strongest roof you can have. What's that formula for the tensile strength of a dome? Oh dammit, I know this... 11.1961 times the length of one side squared... but that's to find the area, and only if it's a dodecagon... Uh, gimme a minute here...

Categories: Sloane

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Overheard

The rest of our stay in the Denver area has us investigating Lakewood, an inner suburb of Denver that includes the new development of Belmar, a successful retrofit of a large old mall site into mixed-use housing and commercial development. Last night we stayed downtown to get a feel for Denver's core, but the fancy conference hotels always cost an arm and a leg. So we jumped on the king-sized bed and used up all the towels and revelled in the high speed internet and strolled along the pedestrian mall with the other tourists and it was grand. But today we had to shove off and have now decamped to much more humble accommodations, closer to Belmar.

You have to love true 'middle America'. This is very obviously the sort of place folks come when they've been caught cheating, and are waiting for their wife to let them back home. Or for the divorce to go through. Either way, overheard at the Extendistay America hotel off State Hwy 6, in Lakeview CO:

"Well, the Hooters is handy." [Right next door, in fact.]

"You know, telling me you 'have to take a big dump' is a completely different piece of information than, 'If you take more than 30 seconds with the bags I'm going to shit my pants' "

And last but not least, our man Turner adding to the local colour, yelling out our door into the parking lot, this gem: "You hear that, Aspen?! Even the Meth Lab Motel on the Interstate bypass has internet! Wireless! For $4.99!"

Categories: City Planning | GeoHope

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Photos Up On Flickr

These are mostly from the first few days of the trip... just getting organized with this internet access here in Denver, I should be able to punch up a whole whack in the next day or two. But for now, a sampler, here.

Categories: GeoHope

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Yet Another Reason

Um, the United States terrifies me a little bit.

Last night we went to Walgreen's. It's a drugstore down here. I have thoroughly enjoyed myself browsing in Walgreen's on past visits to the States. They carry the most ridiculous stuff, for a drugstore. I still have a lovely pair of fuzzy neon-pink socks from a Walgreen's in Chicago, and I think fondly of the store whenever I put them on.

But last night I saw this:

At first it just looks like your basic wall of baby formula and accoutrements. But then I noticed at all the formula (and nothing else) was locked inside plastic cases:

Now. Look closer at those little red labels on the locked cases. What do you see?

Can you read that? It says: SECURITY ALERT! To keep our prices low, we have secured this product. Please see any store associate for assistance. We apologize for any inconvenience.

Cans of formula like that cost between $14-26.

I walked around the store a bit. Items that are not locked inside plastic cases: makeup ($3-45), cough syrup ($6-18), new-fangled lazy person's gizmo for picking things up off the floor if you drop something and don't want to bend over ($11.99), fake leather bags ($8-30), and magazines ($3-12). This is just a random survey. But I should note that nothing else that could be considered an "essential" - milk, cheese, bread, aspirin, or even diapers - was locked up. You could reach across a counter and grab your own smokes at the till, if you really wanted to.

So it really begs the question: why lock up the formula? Well, the obvious answer is because people steal it.

Which begs the next question: why do people steal baby formula? Of all the people I've known who shoplifted anything from drugstores, condoms (not locked up) were the #1 item of choice.

I can afford formula, myself. It's expensive, but we can manage it on our grocery budget. And we're in the process of weaning Sloane onto soy and milk right now, so I haven't given it much thought for a while.

I can't remember the ins and outs and fidgetty details of the argument, but at one point in my undergrad, we Women's Studies majors did a whole thing about the evils of Nestle and the other manufacturers of formula. How, in underdeveloped countries, they used to give incentives to hospitals to supply new mothers with formula to discourage breastfeeding. Infant formula has been implicated in millions of baby's deaths by dehydration and poor development, due to either underfeeding or mixing with tainted water. Once a mother's milk dries up, it's incredibly difficult to get it going again. And thence families are locked in to buying formula, which in some parts of the world could account for 50% or more of a daily household income. Yes, I'm serious - google it and see for yourself. I've seen a huge difference in the advertising of formula in Asia, in just the last ten years. When I first went to the Philippines in 1995, formula ads were everywhere. In tiny grey script at the bottom of the tv screen or billboard, by law the companies were mandated to include the text: breastmilk is best for babies. If you weren't looking for it (I was), you'd never have seen it. Now the government obligates companies to have full narration about how mother's milk is recommended at least to six months, and that formula is a substitute. Huge education campaigns worldwide have apparently hit formula companies' developing-world profits, hard.

So what does this have to do with the locked-up baby formula in Walgreen's? I'm not 100% sure if it's completely related. But I look at a wall of baby formula locked up behind plexiglass, and something in me shudders uncontrollably. There's something yucky, and evil, about it. Sure, if people are stealing formula, the obvious conclusion is that it's priced too high for the market to properly bear. You never see bananas or bread or eggs go over a certain price threshold, because it's been demonstrated that people will actually stop shopping at a store which charges "too much" for what are considered "essentials". In some households, formula is an essential. As in, the baby isn't being breastfed, and is younger than a year old. In this scenario, the child should be getting most of its daily nutrition from a fortified formula. Bananas and bread and eggs all cost less than $4. In some households $15 is too much.

When a household "essential" costs too much, there are only three options:

1. Buy the item anyway, and go into debt to service the need, or do without some other "essential" good (You choose: Heat? Insurance? Rent? Etcetera).

2. Steal it.

Or, 3. Go without.

Once when I was visiting Jenn Foley down at UGA, I met her housemate who did volunteer work with Athens families living on welfare. She told us crazy stories about coming into homes and finding babies, 4 or 5 months old, sucking on bottles of blue Kool-Aid. She seemed to think that it was because the family didn't know any better. A few years later those kids would be carrying around Hallowe'en-packs of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups as their "lunch" when they'd go outside to play, apparently. Those two images: the blue Kool-Aid bottle, the 4 year old with the Reese's cups, they've stuck with me for years. I remember being speechless. And empty. Terrified. I couldn't fathom a world where blue Kool-Aid seemed like a good idea for a little new baby. I exaggerate not in the slightest when I say that I came back to Canada and looked at my family, my city, and my life very differently from then on. A scary basis for comparison is always jarring.  

Which comes vaguely around to my point. Which is, we've had a great trip so far. And most Americans are awesome. But.

This is a country where fast food is cheap, health care can bankrupt a family, and baby formula is locked up to protect a store's profits. Conclude what you wish.

Categories: Ash | Mom-ness

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Basically This Sums Up Our Different Approaches To My Beloved Fisheye Lens

Maroon Bells National Forest, above Aspen CO.

Categories: Married Life

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Happy Canada Day!

We missed it, unfortunately. Canada Day is my favourite holiday. But I've been out of the country a number of times: in France (1990), Philippines (1995), and India (1999). This year we were in Evergreen, CO. They didn't celebrate Canada Day, obviously. Everyone was gearing up for the 4th of July, which falls on Tuesday, so it's a de facto giant long weekend. There were free hay rides and twirly stars n' stripes pinwheels. Plus a lot of Uncle Sam hats and other Independence Day paraphenalia. We had lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant and gawked at the prices - VN is considerd healthy fast food in Canada, and priced accordingly. Not so in the USA, is all I'll say. I had the Evergreen Sampler appetizer - deee-lish!

Categories: Canadiana

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