COMMUNITY SPIRIT

BINGO BINGO

This has been a whirlwind week of different activities from social, to personal to business to future planning, but the highlight has been a bonus night of community bingo at our Maple Ridge Library.

Although the once small town I moved to a few decades ago is no longer considered small, we do still hold on to small town activities like the occasional bingo night.

The games were to begin at 6 pm and since we had never gone before, and because we all know how popular bingo is, we decided it would be best to show up an hour early. We get there and the room door is locked. As we hold our ears to the wall, we hear a voice from behind say “are you here for bingo?”. 

The gal welcomes us and reminds us we are early. We chat back and forth with Marguerita, humourously, as she sets up the room, and agree to come back in half an hour. 

We cross over the street for a five dollar burrito take out, bring it to the bingo room where there were still no others, and we looked forward to winning all the games. But it was still ten minutes to game time.

At six pm a few more people came and by the time it was 6:10 we might have been around 15 when the first ball was called.

The ball dome was the smallest bingo ball dome we had ever seen and the balls were smaller than marbles. Three local grade 12 students undertook the calling process. They would spin the globe round and round, wait for a ball to drop, and call it. One had the voice of a whisper, one could not stop giggling and the other was a five star caller.

Midway through game one, more people were arriving and being accommodated. Everyone who knows me will know how annoyed I felt. Latecomers were a distraction from my attention spam, they slowed the game and they engaged in much conversation before sitting down to focus.

I tried to calm my inner self reminding me it is a small town, it is a free game, take it as a study of people for an upcoming story. Those thoughts were effective as I continued to cover my numbers, with translucent colourful chips, as they were called.

After game one, we were reminded there is a snack table at the back of the room: Bublé, chips, and gummies. Of course almost everyone was excited and went to gather their stash. My game companion and I did that before game time and turned the eye rolling interruption into a talking point. 

Finally the flow of the evening got back on track. Faye won a game and picked her prize — a mini deck of cards with dice, in a handy pouch. A few games later she won again and then me too. I picked an absorbent foam pad imprinted with the library motto: Read, Learn, Play.

Our new experience ended with a smile and a sense of community pride. It was a delightful event in a room of proud people enjoying the pleasures of how once small towns still celebrate. 

In the end, we were all winners.

OLYMPIC ENERGY

 

Red and White

The calming feel of red and white

Warmly envelopes the Olympic sites.

Athletes’ faces, strides of pride

Energy, laughter, tears on the side

Years of practice come to this place

We see it all — amazing race after race.

Red and white make spirits feel right

Hearts abeating, eyes shining bright

Whatever happens we all stand tall

For our athletes have given their all.

Harmony, courage and enduring pain

Are the makings of a nation’s name. 

A Proud Newfoundlander

 

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐘𝐃𝐄

When I was on the Westcoast of the province of Newfoundland Labrador in August, I was walking along the one street town of Norris Point and spotted someone behind the tailgate of a truck. He was arranging fishing gear to make room for two buckets of freshly caught mackerel. I stopped, said good morning and asked my curious questions. He proudly held up a sample. 

I later learned he lived in the house next to where I was staying. We invited him and his family to dinner one night and it was a wonderful evening of family and Newfoundland stories. 

They were all warm and loving, kind and aware, proud and happy, but sadly today I learned 95 year old Clyde passed away. 

RIP CLyde … “I am because we were” thank you for enriching and enlightening me about your history, memories and love of being a very proud family man and Newfoundlander.

BIRD BRAIN

Bird call

I woke up this morning to the sound of little birds whistling outside my window. They know it is morning. They know mornings are beginnings of new days — new fresh air, new starts, new hopes, new plans. They sing: “get up! Time’s a wasting. We get another chance.”

The feeling is heartwarming and makes me rethink the expression “bird brain” because I think birds might be bright messengers to help earthlings get it right down here on Earth. After all, humans aren’t doing so well.

Every morning birds start their day with a tweeting song of joy and optimism. It wakes me up feeling encouraged and enthusiastic.  I perk up, raise my rested legs, swing them over to my awaiting soft, cozy slippers beside my bed. I look out, see those birds and say thanks for making sure I do my bit to make things right in our very troubled world.

Ignoring reality does not help. Pretending does not help. Denying does not help. Let’s face it, when has ignoring, pretending or denying ever really helped anything or anyone?

So then the question is could any one person have talked sense into the likes of hitler, stalin or biblical cain? Absolutely not. But something else, behind those scenes, was happening. It might have been the perpetrators’ eventual fatigue or exhaustion; but, I choose to believe it was the power of human optimism and confidence that positive energy would prevail. 

History shows us that wars don’t create peace. Atrocities accomplish nothing. Lying, cheating, and stealing create miserable lifestyles and lonely lives.

I googled “are birds intelligent?” It gave a whole new meaning to the expression “bird brain”. Here’s the answer: Despite having small brains, their dense neuron count and specialized brain structures facilitate high-level cognitive function. They are very aware and very smart.

Those morning birds outside my window are like fresh juice every morning. They fuel human minds with optimism and confidence. No matter how tough yesterday was, they keep coming back for another try. They just don’t give up. They have called it before and they are calling it now. Fuel up with positive energy and pass it on. Don’t give up. Don’t pretend. Don’t ignore. They are Mother Nature’s brightest messengers —Are we all listening?