January 2025 - bc-bog-trotter.com

I’ll shoot! A juvenile CANADIAN Bald Eagle guarding his perch area. Is this a prophetic view of politics to come?

Three young eagles. They gave the dogs a close scrutiny. Yum!

Saturday morning, January 11^th. I’ve been sitting here since 05:00 winking at my reflection in the window. It is now 07:20, ther glimmer of dawn appeared about a half-hour ago. It has been a pristine night with a sky full of stars over the harbour. Now puffs of fog are forming under a clear sky. I may see frost when the light brightens. Yep another sleepless night since 04:00. I used to work the mate’s watch and stood at the helm from midnight to six am. There was no daylight on that shift in winter and upcoast on the afternoon watch it was often dark by three-thirty in the afternoon. I’m used to it and I hate it. This old flower needs his sunshine. Official dawn is forecast for 08:06, sunset is to be 16:40. That’s a little over eight and a half hours, no time for laying around today. The first sunlight we saw this year was a for few minutes on the 6^th. That light is precious.

I’m still nineteen with all the frustrations of that time, yes ALL, and even more nasty is the seventy-something decrepit body I’m trapped in. I truly did not think I’d live this long and so did not look after myself. I’m the classic cliche. The memories of all the foolish and daring things I’ve done don’t thrill me much now at all. Like most younger folks I once looked on geezers as some sort of separate species. Now here I am. I just hope I don’t carry any of those old man smells. This too is coming to you.

My dear sister made me two bags filled with buckwheat. I put them in the micro wave oven for two minutes and have some delightful and enduring warm comfort on my old knees. One knee was replaced last year but so far the pain is equal in both. I have always loved ambling up mountains and into valleys beyond, along beaches and country roads. Now I realize that those days may be gone but damnit, I’m gonna to force the issue every way I can. Meanwhile the simple joy of a bean bag is bliss.

Bean bags. With two very warm beanbags between my knees it didn’t take my wee girls long to find them. Awwww! Bliss! Their added warmth is appreciated.

There’s that neighbour’s roof again! 10:00 this morning. Clearly the solar panels were on standby. Hopefully the little sloop at the guest dock across the bay has a good heater. At the moment this is the depth of winter. No snow yet. Green shoots are appearing in the flower beds.

And yes, there is frost. It is now January 20^th. T-Rump Day. That character has been issuing edicts and making declarations since the day he was re-elected. His decrees came from a Florida country club, not the White house and folks seemed to accept them even though he had no official voice. Now he’ll be singing “Back In The Saddle Again!” We are living in a neo-version of the ‘Emperor’s New Clothes’ and seem determined to embrace a mass lemming sillyness. Up here in Canada we love to have something to whine about. We are a nation that claims to hate Americans yet most of us live within 50 miles of the US border even though the country runs north and south as far as it does east and west. We are finally realizing we have no political leadership, and have not for a long time. A bully has moved back in next door and we’re crapping ourselves. Well frankly, I perceive that we’ve been the 51^st state since WWII and not much is going to change in that regard. Trump calls us the “Big faucet” up north.

I incessantly rant about Canadians consuming foreign food products. I discovered a lovely-looking frozen vacuum-bagged filet of salmon in the freezer. It had come home with the recent shopping. It is claimed to be sockeye. It looked great. I checked the fine print and discovered it was a product of Chile! Chile? I live in British Columbia! What are we famous for if not our salmon? Chile may be on the same beach as us but it is well around the far side of the planet! . WTF? Then Mr Brain-dead here bought some bagged tree bark to landscape the front yard. As I finished slashing the bags open I noted the labelling. It was a product of Rexford, IDAHO. No! We can’t even supply ourselves with our own tree bark? What else is this province noted for if not it’s timber exports. And I bought into it. I want to break into my sailor expletives but what’s the point. It has been said that “If rape is inevitable, relax and try to enjoy it.” ‘Fraid not!

Chile! THIS is BC! Where did the BC salmon go? It is also worth noting that this filet is not represented as being wild and the mention of antibiotics is a strong hint. How much of the price went to paying for diesel to ship it up here? Think local! Think green! UHUH!

Not this very binary old bilge ape. My finacial acumen is minimal but I understand that for a nation to build a strong economy being able to feed itself is a huge advantage. We certainly possess all those resources and once fed much of the rest of the world. Now we operate like an egg farmer who goes to town to buy eggs for himself at retail prices. Third world economics sell their resources wholesale and buy back finished products retail. Sound uncomfortably familiar? Maybe a global economic wizard for our next Prime Minister is not such a bad idea.

What’s his name again?

A bump in the night. The trunk is about four feet in diameter. A few feet further on another old giant lay in exactly the opposite direction. It was a wild and vicious wind.

On the writer’s desk as I make notes about what we import. Irish whiskey is awfully tough to compete with.

“Nothing is more deadly to achievement than the belief that effort will not be rewarded, that the world is a bleak and discriminatory place in which only the predatory and the specially preferred can get ahead.” – George Gilder

Seed Not Included

The favourite. Despite baskets full of squeaky toy’s, this one is Libby dog’s prefered unit. No head, no squeaker, plenty dirty. Love requires no explanation.

Feeling hugely benevolent, I bought a sack of bird seed that was on sale. Mix with hot water, let sit until mushy, then add a little brown sugar, it’s a breakfast of champions. Twenty bucks will keep a person in breakfasts for well over a month. And it’s good for you.

Anyone seen the dog? It’s winter. Bugger off, leave me alone!

Seriously, seeing wee dickie birds coming by the window brings a little cheer to anyone. “Look at the pecker on that one!” There is a decrepit old feeder which I cleaned up a bit and now that birds are coming to my window, they will get a brand new shiney restaurant. Joy to the world! The on-line comfirmation of the order clearly stated “Seed not included.”

Really? Would some folks expect it. “Product not as illustrated.” Perhaps someone would impose a trade tariff or would it be a contravention of some obscure agricultural edict? Then there’s the “Free Willy” bunch who would advocate that feeding wild birds ain’t natural. There is nothing you can do without pissing someone off, especially the self-appointed experts. There is no bottom to politics and in the weeks ahead we will see some new lows. “Seed not included,” perhaps that’d make an interesting bumper sticker.

Bob! He loves swimming, cold and wet be damned. Go Bob!

And so it became Christmas Day. The temperature is just a few degrees above freezing. Rain bucketed down. When I was a scuba diver there was a joke about the rain being too heavy to go diving. It is one of those days. Huge gusts of wind randomly blast the deluge almost horizontally for a few moments. The wet splatters on the windows. Oh lord! I’m so glad it is not snow. Homeless folk huddled in doorways and under bushes and I remember a time when that was me. This wet winter weather is as deadly as the minus forty degree days and nights I knew. It holds a mortal threat which is slower and more painful. Everyone is hunkered down as these winter systems march in off the North Pacific; the next week’s forecast is grim. I sit at my desk and watch as herds of white ponies gallop and turn on the black water of the harbour. Some crash on the reef across the bay. The dogs sleep.

The lowly kale. A food staple for man and beast through the ages. The center part will make soup before next frost.

A southbound flock. I believe they may have been discussing what to do to that solar panel.

The shiny new bird feeder has arrived. It is an instant hit. Tiny birds fly through the rain. If I scaled it up, and it were one of us swooping around out there, each raindrop would be a bucket of ice-cold water. How do those fragile wee creatures survive? The miracles we look at and just don’t see!

I am malingering. This blog is now looking into the mouth of the New Year. The weather is dull, dull, dull and so am I. I have hardly been out and about and there is not enough light to photograph much of anything. I went to the local liquor emporium and bought myself an expensive treat; the birds can’t have all the joys. I once was given a bottle of Irish whiskey called “Teacher’s Tears.” It was nectar. So I went looking. I ended up buying the least expensive bottle of “Writer’s Tears.” It surewasn’t cheap, but worth every drop. The problem is that it is 40% alcohol and is certainly a jug of whammy. Sleep comes easily after a few sips of this brew. Bloody lovely so!

The former MLA’s office is now a massage parlour. Draw your own metaphors.

After a soothing massage you may as well go across the street to the pub. It’s warm and dry with good food and beer.

And so the New Year begins. No resolutions. Buckle in, I think it’s going to be a wild ride.

The bleary old fart hisself doing a little bit of bookwork in his lonely writer’s garret. No wonder he’s lonely, just look at the bugger! Photo by Jill.

“Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life .” – Robin Sharma