Sandy Trails For Healthy Hearts

Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have. Margaret Mead

Some caring person put up a handmade sign at the bottom of a trail I often trek through in Crescent Beach.

Although you can't tell by the photo (above), the trail is steep and gets me puffing, which probably means the climb is good for the heart.

I was in my twenties when mom died suddenly after a heart attack. Decades later I'm still not over the shock. Because there are many wonderful paths near my area and to increase my chances of a longer life, I challenge myself when I walk. At the bottom of the hill there's car traffic and a busy railway track.

There's beach access where folks go to refresh, build sandcastles and more.

Mother's Day is upon us. I wondered if the stack of rocks (below) represent mother and child. The big one could be the parent and the smaller one the child, although as we get older it can become the other way around.

Parents tend to shrink over time but mothering instincts never do for women or men who take positive steps big and small. Helpful deeds, like useful signage and walking, can save a life so Happy Mother's Day to whoever added the cautionary note to the back of their artistic Sandy Trail sign.

This post is linked to signs, signs.

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150 Years Young, Canada!

IT'S CANADA DAY eve and the red leaf flutters over clear and cloudy skies.

Hooray to Canada for being such a wonderfully diverse and peaceful place in which to live. Not only is it "strong and free" it includes stunning views, interesting people from around the globe as well as geographical challenges for people who love to be physically inspired. Climate and terrain vary across ten provinces and three territories that span some 4,000 miles from sea to sea. Celebrating 150 years of Confederation, Canada is a giant-sized toddler gaining strength along the way while holding true to its values. There is room for improvement, of course, but among nations Canada is poised to do the right things not only for itself but for the world.

I was pleased most recently with Canada's involvement in the Paris Accord and also its welcoming stance on immigration from war torn Syria.

My parents immigrated to Canada before I was born. Learning a new language in unfamiliar circumstances wasn't easy and life was harsh but my mother said becoming a Canadian citizen was one of the proudest happiest moments of her life.

Mom didn't live long enough to meet my daughter but I know she'd be especially proud to hear her sing "O Canada" a cappella with school friends years ago. I listen the song each Canada Day. Enjoy!

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Sisters On International Women's Day, 2017

In honour of International Women's Day I'm posting a picture of my three beautiful sisters standing with me (I'm the smallest one at the front) after sunbathing on the roof of an apartment building in Montreal. The photograph has dimmed and discoloured over time. All three sister have since passed away. Each one was gifted, passionate and strong in her own special way. Each one knew sorrow and pain, great joy and laughter. Each left an impression on me.

Of course, my mother (who must have taken the picture) was the strongest of all. The roof was our beach that day and we were all having fun.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

The Gift Of Seeing

MY MOM nurtured an unruly tall thistle by our front yard when I was young and even though I begged her to get rid of it she wouldn’t. No one else treated a wild thistle like a cherished rose and, as an adolescent wanting to fit in with a neighbourhood of neatly clipped shrubbery and manicured lawns, this prickly weed was a bit of an embarrassment. Eventually her gift of seeing grew in me and I wholeheartedly could agree with her view and Albert Einstein who said, "Joy in looking and comprehending is nature's most beautiful gift."

The thistle I recently photographed along the shoreline at Crescent Beach, an invasive species in parts of British Columbia, reminds me that within the plant's thorny existence is an untouchable nobility.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

You Did Good, Dad!

I WISH I had known my dad better. I was fourteen when he died and he had been sick for quite some time prior. There is not a single picture of the both of us together that I could find. I look a lot like him though.

My father took a risk. He was brave and hopeful when he traveled from Europe to Canada through turbulent storm-tossed seas with his young wife and three children.

I was the youngest of two siblings born later in Canada after my parents settled in Quebec. In view of the past and continuing political turmoil in the Ukraine, my dad’s goal was to bring his children to a more secure life. Although he succeeded in that, it was not to be the best move for him in the end.

My father had been a professor at a university in Kiev in the Ukraine, a head accountant for the government of the day, a philosopher, a storyteller and a musician who also had a degree in religious studies but who turned down the option to be a minister at a Greek Orthodox Church when he arrived in Canada. Wavering in his religious beliefs, he did not want to be disingenuous I was told. Instead, he started a farm and did manual work eventually succumbing to an illness that was life threatening and common then. Tuberculosis took him down the long road of health problems, surgeries and stays in sanatoriums.

The painting of him is one of several original art pieces he brought from Europe. The work was by his artist friend that I have not been able to trace. My father’s face is inscrutable as I try to read behind the eyes. Although he is as mysterious as Mona Lisa without her smile, the portraiture reveals something about my father the way only a painting can. I sense his earnestness and innocence about what is to come. If I could speak to him this Father's Day, I'd say, “You did good, dad! You gave us opportunities we might not otherwise have had.”

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

The Art Of Not Being Penny-less

HAVE YOU gotten out of bed with a big yawn and a stretch and a niggling feeling there is something important you forgot that needed your attention yesterday? Oh, yes … that gift for someone special that you still did not get. It is a dilemma we all have faced, including Penelope who is only six years old and penniless.

That is the start of the story accompanying another set of watercolour pencil drawings my daughter gave me several years ago for Mother's Day, complete with original font for the prose. Penelope's Gift of Time: Because No One Can Fill Your Shoes is from a child's simple perspective while the motivation behind the theme is mine.

During my walks, I often see the very elderly or ill accompanied by uninterested strangers. Tiny tots are ignored by nannies and parents who are lost in their cellphone screens. The Penelope story is about discovering nature's true gifts and being fully engaged with someone near who deserves attention.

This is the second in what I expect to be a growing series featuring the Penelope Puddle character and her small sidekick umbrella that takes on a best-pal role. In fact, I have big plans to evolve the umbrella's "personality" in future. I just need a few more decades of time in which to do all that I want to do with the concept and art.

Although I no longer get them as gifts, I have a wealth of Penelope drawings tucked away to play with whenever I find the time. An upcoming visit with my daughter for Mother's Day will give me a chance to thank her again for providing me with an always welcoming friend that absorbs my imagination and never accusingly asks, "Where have you been? What took you so long?"

Postscript May 11, 2015

A soft light glowed through the glass at a restaurant we randomly walked into on Sunday for a Mother's Day brunch. When we were seated, I noticed a sign on the wall over my daughter's head that read, "I don't eat my friends."

The Heirloom Vegetarian served up a plate of food that turned out to be one of the tastiest meals I have eaten anywhere. The vinaigrette on the super fresh salad was laced with the perfect amount of tang and the creamy sauce, spiced with a bit of seaweed powder, melted beautifully over the mouth-watering nutty meat substitute. The exceptional flavours sweetened our conversation.

As the reflection on the window from the outside shows, the day was not cloudless. So I was amazed that the sky still cast a wonderful glow.

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A Study In Generosity At The University Of BC

BESIDES LEARNING why they need umbrellas in Vancouver, students at the University of British Columbia delve into a treasure trove of knowledge they hope to one day share with the world. Perhaps they will also learn that although the brain tops the list of subjects begging for innovative thinking it takes heart to make the needed research happen ... and a generous spirt.

The Djavad Mowafaghian Centre for Brain Health at UBC shows an artistic impression of brain cells etched in the glass. Understanding of the brain is in its infancy as is the newly constructed building I visited with my husband who is dealing with a neurological condition that began over two years ago.

We were impressed with the nearly 135,00 square foot scope of the facility largely made possible by Mowafaghiana, a longtime philanthropist of humble beginnings who learned lessons in generosity early from his mother.

His desire to bring all the multidisciplinary areas of brain health under one large umbrella was triggered more recently after he suffered a stroke. This unfortunate health crisis turned out to be fortunate for those with various movement and other disorders seeking answers now and into the future.

How often have you heard about someone down and out who would give you the shirt off his back? Generosity is not exclusive to the rich but when there is little to lose perhaps it is easier to give than when wealth accumulates?

No so for 87-year-old Mowafaghiana who went from being bankrupt to gaining and giving away millions. He no doubt would agree with Albert Pike who said, "What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal."

Of course giving is not only about dropping some loose change in a panhandler's cup or constructing big buildings. Sharing time, talents and non-monetary acts of goodness also have ripple effects.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

The Tiny Gift That Gives Me A Lift!

DOES YOUR imagination soar at the thought of grabbing this tiny red umbrella to take a spin around the room and out into the blue horizon?

The ornament was one of the gifts my daughter gave me at Christmas this year. She discovered it nestled in a vintage shop crammed with tantalizing used goods and thought of me right away. It gives me a lift whenever I see it dangling at the window.

Although I am certainly no Mary Poppins, it is nice to be associated with umbrellas. An umbrella to me (and Penelope) is a canopy for protection against the splashes, a magic wand with which to make a wish, a handy stick to ward off a stumble, and a parachute geared for adventure rolled into one tidy package.

This perfect gift made me realize how sometimes challenging, but always gratifying, it is to find the right thing for the right person. Have you considered what your perfect gift would be? Perhaps you already have it. Great thinkers have pondered on the less tangible gifts that cannot be contained in a box:

"Health is the greatest gift … ,” according to the Buddha and my mother who used to say that as well.

Voltaire said, “God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.”

Eleanor Roosevelt said, “I think at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift should be curiosity.”

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A Bucket Full Of Laughter For Us All In 2014!

A HILARIOUS new twist on the old Rumplestiltskin tale by the Brothers Grimm had me laughing in my seat this weekend.

The Pantomime was at the White Rock Players’ Club over the Christmas season. It was a nice way to finish off 2013 and made me realize that I want to laugh more in the New Year.

Humorist Mark Twain once said, "Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand." To me his words resonate like a battle cry over real and imagined foes.

When I was little I feared a boogie man under my bed. My mother would assure me there was no such thing. She looked under the bed with me and in the closet to make sure the room was free of monsters so I could sleep peacefully. As I grew away from her protective care and assurances I came to realize life was far scarier than I imagined as a child. People die (my mother included) suddenly before their time and many suffer due to illnesses, wars and natural disasters. There is violence towards non-human life as well. Mankind orbits the galaxy with the beasts and a blanked out map. In search of meaning, incomplete and competing conclusions are met with discontent.

So when does the laughter jump in you ask? Fret as I might I have never found that worrying about anything has improved a single situation. Complex realms of unsolved mysteries are, indeed, fascinating places for the mind to wander. But sometimes letting go of the nightly news to revel in a hardy laugh is what the doctor ordered. I am not talking about a tepid little titter. I want to roll over with glee. I want my sides to ache. I want to venture into the silliest corners of existence and give the frown a tug upside down. The joke is on me if I do not take advantage of the ironic, surprising and comedic moments.

Satirist Will Durst had the inside scoop when he said, "Comedy is defiance. It’s a snort of contempt in the face of fear and anxiety. And it’s the laughter that allows hope to creep in on the inhale.”

So happy 2014 to all! I did not take many pictures during the play so hope the stand-in smiley pail I found in my garage amuses you and that the tears you shed in the coming year will be from laughing uproariously.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Farewell To The Canadian Lucky Penny

I FELT A LITTLE SAD this morning when the header on Google reminded me that the official retirement of the Canadian penny starts today February 4, 2013. There are billions still floating around in my world so it will take several years to get them out of circulation.

My mom used to save coins that would soon be extinct and now here I am starting to save the little pennies that land in my change purse and pocket. I used to include an actual penny in some of my Penelope Puddle greeting cards that read “Here’s Your Lucky Penny” on the inside. It was a perfect play on my character’s name. I have also always thought that the Penelope drawings are, like the song says, "pennies from heaven" because turning them into greeting cards provides me with hours of creative fun and an escape from daily stresses and an abundance of gray rainy days. As the photo (above) shows, my daughter also drew Penny dancing on the White Rock pier. The card I call “Singing In The Rain” is reminiscent of Gene Kelly dancing with an umbrella in the much-loved 1952 movie classic.

I will no doubt find something creative to do with the discarded coins. Some people are starting to collect them for charities. The abandoned penny with its very tiny bit of copper plating does weight heavily in the pockets of many and can make counting a bit awkward I suppose but I didn’t want to see it go. Now the larger Canadian nickel that is worth five cents will do the task of one penny and surely up the cost of goods and services by four cents in the end.

You can read the history of the one-cent piece here.

Although the penny has not been produced since May, 2012, and will not be distributed by the government starting today, I like to think it will make a comeback in some new form one day.

I wonder ... will Canada be as lucky as it perhaps was prior to kicking the penny out of circulation? This could be a tongue-in-cheek topic worth exploring in future as well why the coin is considered lucky.

Due to the unexpected topic in the news I find myself having to choose between two posts (see post below) in one week to link to Our World.

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Dunkin' Ducklings On Mom's Day

Winging To Vancouver's Gastown

THIS PIG WITH WINGS that my daughter gave me on Mother’s Day is a gift she knew I would appreciate.

The tiny glass ornament represents a theme that is somewhat similar to our own fictional character Penelope Puddle.

Penelope the Piggie also flies in the face of the can't-do crowd.

When pigs fly is an old expression that speaks to the near impossible odds of overcoming difficult situations and achieving challenging goals. In a world where dreams are often dashed and a meaningful life of longed-for achievements rarely seems realized, a can-do reminder is encouraging.

Heading to Gastown in Vancouver for Mother's Day dinner yesterday, I saw a sign that shows the high hopes of some are on a more global scale. Minimizing pollution is a great dream and a grand goal that many folk share.

The water taxi floating on False Creek and the surrounding apartments were reminders that toying with our natural world requires a balanced approach to the environment.

Trees clothed with blossoms softened the city streets. Fallen petals covered both grass and concrete.

As our car sped over the Cambie Street Bridge I saw that the Cirque du Soleil was in town. The acrobatic group in the white tents were sure to put on a spectacular show.

Ongoing construction included a new roof for BC Place, a huge stadium at the heart of the city.

Historic weaponry was exhibited along our way. Some might think when pigs fly when I suggest our current weapons and battles will be obsolete one day.

Finally we reached our destination. Gastown is a historic area of Vancouver that fell on hard times in the 1930s to be revitalized in more recent days.

An increasingly popular tourist hotspot, shops and restaurants merge with updated older heritage buildings and new office structures and residences.

Gastown is named after an entrepreneur known as Gassy Jack who opened a saloon in the 1800s as a retreat for nearby millworkers. It was a successful venture that expanded the Water Street area until the Great Depression when it disintegrated into a respite for the desperate and homeless.

Today the area has come full circle. There is a hubbub of activity and an atmosphere that is bright and airy ... rain or shine.

Since one never knows when showers will fall, cheery umbrellas are available for purchase as well as decoration.

This flowing fish fountain seemed appropriate in a nook along Water Street.

We arrived at The Old Spaghetti Factory. This restaurant chain across Canada has a decor that suits Gastown's historic theme perfectly.

Inside, a kaleidoscope of stained glass provided delicious eye candy.

The gorgeous colors were difficult to capture.

The lamps were dripping in bright hues.

The crowds were huge and there was a long waiting list. Eventually, we were seated in the indoor train portion of the restaurant.

More glass glittered when looking out from inside the train.

We were definitely hungry and you could say we truly enjoyed "pigging out" on the heaps of tasty spaghetti we ordered for dinner.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms