Butts, Big and Small

Another Capernwray story.

One night Gordon and I arrived at "Bistro Night" just a little early. We were supposed to meet another couple, but couldn't find them. We faced different directions as we looked for them. I didn't see them where I searched.

I turned around and started looking in the direction Gordon was looking. While we stood there looking I put my hand on Gordon's butt and started muttering about what we should do next. I kept looking over the patios, but as I did, I started fiddling with Gordon's butt. Now I realize that I was aware something wasn't quite right, but at the time, I was feeling around for clues. Now I realize that his butt didn't feel right but at the time I was just feeling around trying to figure what was awry.

Before this event I don't think I could have told you that Gordon's wallet is always in his right pocket. I didn't realize that was something I knew. But this butt I had hold of had a wallet in the left pocket. Something was weird about that. Evidently I was pretty engrossed in locating this other couple, because I kept mumbling who knows what and groping this butt to figure out what wasn't quite right.

As I groped I realized another thing: this butt was flatter than it should be. Gordon has a very round butt. So help me I don't know why I didn't put all these pieces together, but I didn't. I kept mumbling and kind of squishing this butt in my hand trying to figure out why Gordon felt weird.

The man muttered a-very-in-control, "Val?"

I turned toward him and started screaming like an idiot. Then I started stamping like I was doing an Indian pow-wow (except lots faster) and shaking my hand like I was trying to get bugs off it. As far as I know, no words were coming out of my mouth, just screaming. I saw Gordon about 20 feet from me. I ran to Gordon and buried my face in his chest. I told him what I'd done and he started laughing.

The wife of the man I'd fondled came over to me and was laughing. She'd seen the whole thing, as did a few others. Everyone was laughing and commenting on how red my face was.

The wife sat down beside me, still laughing. She told me a story that she said she'd told so few people because of how terribly embarrassing it had been. And truly her story made me feel better as her goof was lots worse than mine.

When she and Frankie were on their honeymoon, they went to a mall. Frankie wanted to look at tools, she wanted to look elsewhere. When she came back to the tool section, she found Frankie squatting looking at the tools on the lowest shelf. She noticed he had a hole in the butt of his pants. She snuck up and put her index finger in it and did the gichy-gichy-goo squiggly movement.

The man jumped up screaming. It wasn't Frankie. She screamed. He yelled. She screamed. She ran.

She said after what I did to Frankie she felt she could tell me that story.

The next day another lady came up to me and mentioned my "eventful evening" the night before. I thought she was talking about some of the kids' antics. But then she said, "At 1:00 this morning we were laying in bed laughing thinking of the look on your face."

So that is me. I try to bring cheer wherever I go.

kayak

This is a Capernwray story. I wanted to canoe all week, to go to a small islands and look the seals in the eyes. I expected my canoeing expedition to be invigorating and deeply spiritual.

My husband however wanted to kayak instead of canoe. So kayak it was. To use the kayaks I had to sit through a brief safety lesson. I had heard it several times with the kids (who had gone tubing, canoeing, kayaking, and speed boating). I had on a life vest, so I knew I wouldn't drown, and really that settled the safety issues for me. Besides they claimed the kayaks were practically un-flippable. (I wondered when I heard that if ever there was a person with more flippable prowess than myself.)

The only thing I was actually concerned with was fitting in the kayak. For 3 days I occasionally wandered up and down the boat dock where the kayaks were to "size up the situation." I needed more privacy than was ever afforded me, so I didn't get to see if I fit in the privacy of my own, uh, my own ocean.

So on the fateful day, I decided to just do it. I squeezed myself into the kayak and was very pleased to find I had a few centimeters to spare. I was set. I got out and preceded to put on the splash skirt. This was a silly little rubber skirt that one wears to keep water out of the kayak. It looked like a gigantic royal blue jock strap. But regardless, the safety lecture had stated clearly that we had to wear the splash skirt.

My fear regarding fitting into the kayak wasn't grounded, but the skirt was a different story. I pulled, wriggled, and squirmed right there in plain sight. I decided, in the interest of pride, to forgo it. Truth is, I would have fit I was just too proud to continue shimmying on the dock. Gordon hesitantly went along with my plan but made it clear he had a problem with my "rebellion."

We had a sweet trip to and from one of the islands. It was nice, really really nice. But because of my guilt regarding not having on the silly skirt, we didn't "land" we just turned around. I didn't frolic with the seals.

As we were nearing the dock, a lifeguard - the one who had conducted my safety lesson - started walking toward us on the dock. I panicked. I didn't want him to see I had disobeyed the rules regarding the splash skirt. I kept paddling like I was planning to drive right up on top of the dock. Thud! The kayak collided with the dock.

I desperately wanted to disembark the kayak before he noticed my missing skirt. I pulled myself up and began my cultured exit. Gordon started screaming, "VALERIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The lifeguard's eyes said the same. With extraordinary delicacy and grace I heaved and hauled myself out of the seat. The last thing I heard was "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I went under water. The practically unflippable vessel capsized with Gordon in it.

When I surfaced, my husband growled, "You crazy woman, what were you thinking?" Others gathered to help the lifeguard and Gordon right and empty the boat.

The lifeguard never mentioned the splash skirt.

I walked to land.

a sleepwalker strikes

At Capernwray we stayed in Preedy Lodge. We shared the lodge with several like-minded families and that created an amazingly high comfort level. We never locked our door when we went out or while we slept.

One night I heard Hannah get up to go to the bathroom. Since Hannah has a sleepwalking history, I tried to stay awake till she got back, but failed. I drifted back into a light sleep. Soon I was awakened by talking down the hall. I was slightly disoriented but I knew I had to go out there just in case it involved Hannah.

I stepped out of our room and looked down the hall. I saw a man in his underwear. (He saw a woman in a her short gown.) I was not at 100%, still very sleepy. I tried to figure out what he was doing, and it seemed like he was doing a shooing motion. You know, "shoo, go away" movements.

It took me a second or two, but I soon realized that was exactly what he was doing. He was trying to shoo my Hannah out of his family's room.

I went quickly down the hall (in my aforementioned short gown) and stood a few feet from the man in his underwear. He was trying to say, "shoo, go to someone else's room" to Hannah. He looked as disoriented as me and I didn't get the idea that he was thinking any more clearly.

Without realizing I was doing it, I was calling Hannah's name as I walked down the hall. Because of that she came to the door and smiled gently and sweetly at me. (She always smiles gently and sweetly when she's walking in her sleep.)

The sleepy gentleman did one last shooing motion and I took Hannah's hand and led her back to our room.

crabs and tsunamis

When we arrived on the West Coast we spent our first night at a town called White Rock. We walked the beach and the long pier. Deborah and I were holding hands as we walked. She entertained and sought comfort for two fears: giant crabs and tsunamis.(Interesting how just a few years ago we didn't know anything about tsunamis.)

I assured Deborah that it was impossible for a powerful tsunami to hit White Rock because of all the surrounding islands. I told her about technology that would warn of something like that.

I thought I had effectively comforted her. We walked in silence for a while.

Later she broke the silence with, "Mom, way back there when you said it would be impossible for a tsunami to come while we are on the pier, were you just saying that to make me feel better or did you really mean it?"

Wasn't that an astute question for an 8 year old?

Holiday Pictures and such.

Below you'll find lots of photographs from our vacation to the West Coast. Unfortunately it's in reverse order, but hopefully you'll get a feel for what our trip was like.

Once we got to Thetis Island, I pretty well didn't pick up the camera again. I'm really bummed about that because I didn't capture more of our actual stay. It was an amazing time and I've got lots of stories to tell. But these pictures will have to do for now.

I'll share a quickie before I hit the hay. (It's late, we've only been home for a few hours, and I'm quite ready for my own bed.) We've spent many hours in the car over the past two weeks. Often at red lights, Gordon would study the map. When the light turned green, I tried to keep my mouth shut. (Early in our relationship I learned that Gordon can't stand when I tell him to go when the light turns green.) However he is often disengaged at stop lights and I have to bite my tongue. So over the years I've developed a most horrific twitch. When the light turns green and he's reading a map or looking the other direction, I nearly instinctively motion with my hand for him to go. Doing it this way, I feel like I'm being a good wife by keeping my mouth shut.

Today Gordon finally expressed his frustration with my hand-signalling-go-twitch. The light turned green while Gordon was reading a map. I said nothing but my hand motioned the usual.

He looked at me and dryly said, "Would you stop acting like a neurotic imbecile."

Finally, Capernwray

If you click on this photo you can see where we stayed. It is the farthest away building center-left. It is called Preedy Lodge.
A view from the road right after leaving the ferry. The bridges over streams added so much ambience to the place.
I don't know this girl, but did she ever find a whoppin' big pretty starfish?
Every day I walked past this garden and pretended it was mine. Growing up can be so hard.
Capernwray has more than a hint of English influence. The houses, cabins, and the Tudor Lodge had many flowers, covered bridges on the walkways, beautifully manicured lawns, and terrific ocean views. This house and a few others had walkways that emphasized the English feel for me.

I love this picture of Gordon on Thetis Island.

Day 5

This was an exciting day, as we finally arrived at our destination, Thetis Island. In Chemainus we got on a small ferry that took us to the island we would call home for the week.
This is Thetis Island and we were at Capenwray Harbour. The red-roofed portion you see is Capernwray Harbour. It is beautiful.
Rachael and Hannah on the small ferry to Thetis Island.
This is Deborah at low-tide at Qualicum Beach between Nanaimo and Chemainus. The girls spent the morning collecting sand-dollars. The van had a horrible fishy smell the rest of the trip.

Days 4 and 5

When we left Cranbrook we headed to the West Coast. It was a long, fun, eventful day. In Vancouver, (actually it was Langley), we caught the ferry to Vancouver Island. We spent the night in Nanaimo.
I love this picture because it captures a bit of who Hannah is. Doesn't she look contemplative? She is.
In Vancouver we boarded the ferry -- the girls' first ferry ride. It was a beautiful 2 hour sail to Nanaimo's Departure Bay.

In Osoyoos, (between Cranbrook and Vancouver) we stopped at the lake and ended up banana tubing. It was a hoot. The best part were the crashes. The worst part was being heaved back on by 3 men all thinking something like, "this girl's a pretty good sized woman."

Days 2 and 3

Days 2 and 3 were spent in Cranbrook with our friends, the Jasters. We had a great time visiting some of our old stompin' grounds and especially enjoyed catching up with our friends. This was our first time back to Cranbrook since leaving there in 1995.
The girls and Brenden near Marysville.
At Wasa Lake with our dear friends, the Jasters.
First Baptist. Where we were married and where Gordon pastored for 3 years.
Our first "home". Apt 409.
In the olden days, Gordon and I used to enjoy this spot along the river.
Along the Marysville Falls path. A short hike, but well worth the small effort.

Day 1

Often photographed mountain in the Crowsnest Pass.
Approaching the Rockies.
Deborah. Major rock slide, eh?
in the Crowsnest Pass.
still in the Crowsnest Pass.
Biggest truck in the World. Sparwood, BC
Alberta Foothills
More Alberta Foothills.
Hammy Hannah.