912 Place -- A Fairy Tale

 912 Place -- A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time in the magic mirror outside of 912 Place, in Victoria, British Columbia, there were four tired retirees yearning to finally put their big city lives to rest, in favour of a more serene, slower paced, environmentally friendly region of their beloved country — Canada. 

Scotty, Nino, Ezma and Toine all met in Victoria in the late 1990s where they lived comfortably in a turn of the century basic stucco apartment building, along with a steady flow of transients and silver fish aplenty.   

Scotty and Nino were a couple in love and living together for the first time in their romantic life. 

Ezma was and still is a happily single, curious, bold, flamboyant, colourful, psychedelic artiste extraordinaire. 

Toine, also happily single, was an inner circle government executive staffer whose political leanings made the others feel ill at ease. She behaved like a fifth wheel, guarded and watching from all directions mindful of the damage the disgruntled or misinformed can cause a political staffer who had to be self protective and polite in all circumstances. 

Their home-based lives intersected occasionally at first — a wave from the windows they passed by to get down the driveway to the entrance doors or to the garages out back; a few polite words when they met at the waste disposal bins, around the postal boxes or in the laundry room. 

In the early Spring, they would engage in small talk on the front lawn overseeing Beacon Hill Park, along side the grove of the beautiful pink blooming Japanese cherry tree blossoms on trees as old as the apartment building. On good weather days, there would be a steady flow of chats at Toine’s ground floor kitchen window, where people would be drawn to the scent of freshly baked chocolate chips cookies, hoping for a sample.

Over time Ezma, Scotty and Nino interacted in-house more frequently with short and long visits, meal sharing, story telling, and discovering mutual interests. 

Toine stayed at arm’s length because of the nature of her 24-7 career, limiting her free time and minimizing any hope of any level of quality bonding.  She was in a line of work that is surreal to outsiders, especially those who have no interest whatsoever in politics or in knowing how a political machine works. 

Every time she looks into the magic mirror, she sees the Toine who hailed from a very small and isolated hamlet in the Upper Fraser Canyon. There she was sitting on the front porch overlooking the TransCanada Highway and saying: “To where are all of those people going? One day I will find out and never come back!” 

It took a while to meet that goal; but, it did eventually happen, along with a lot of post secondary education and involvement with an intriguing political party. 

Toine was diagnosed early in life as ‘structured sequential’ and her life choices followed (and still follow) a logically set pattern leading to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Hard work and determination turned out to be effective life choices for her. She is often referred to as that person who sits on horseshoes. Luckily the mirror has never cracked from too much ego or shame. From one page of her own story follows another and another; the adventures are rarely regretted, sometimes challenging, and always character building. 

Toine proudly ended up working for the leader of her favoured political party. Her 24-7 position required the utmost of professionalism and the highest standards of conduct both at work and elsewhere at all times.  Her job entailed a plethora assignments from public relations, communications, problem solving, office management, staff morale, and mentorship to event planning and execution. It was always understood to be temporary and it always had to be a top priority over her family, friends and personal calendar.

Living in the same apartment building as Scotty, Nino and Ezma became something like what respite is supposed to do — a therapy of sorts. The experience actually created a delightful casual relationship between ‘those three’ and her. She always referred to the apartment acquaintances as pleasure while it lasted, because she knew that ultimately the political tide would change, her job would end and her life would go back to almost where it left off on the mainland of British Columbia.

Ezma grew up in a northern Ontario hamlet that no longer exists today. 

As most young small towners with aspirations for more, she could hardly wait to finish basic schooling and head south to where the action was!  Her amazing typing skills got her a job right away and she eventually became a lifetime public servant based in Victoria. 

She was astute enough to know, early in life, the importance and value of a government job, and she was definitely one of those keeners who dug into her assigned jobs, no matter how mundane some tasks would be, and gave them the utmost of attention to ensure accuracy and appreciation. 

However, her personal passion was art and that is where her head would be outside of her 8:30 to 4:30 shift. Her very colourful and swank apartment at 912 Place was filled with her art and craft work — paintings, drawings, sculptures, murals, batik, tie-dying, needle felting, knitting, book design, photography, cards, story writing, journaling, and even origami. Her whimsical pieces catch the eye of everyone she invites in for a tour of her self made studio apartment, and the diversity of her talents were and still are most impressive.

 

Like Toine, Ezma’s life story flows neatly from one page to another. Her carefree adventures are not regretted, her artistic skills are self-created and embraced by her and by many with whom she freely shares with confidence and pride.  

Scotty and Nino are free spirited guys who got settled into the working world later in life, when they both realized that at retirement it would be nice to receive a pension. They are both avid outdoorsmen and very keen about cycling, hiking and travelling. They also love to cook and entertain. Scotty is particularly good with the handyman jobs that benefit all homeowners and Nino has a multitude of artsy and design talents that seem to require no effort at all. Eventually Scotty joined the provincial government public service and Nino became a Montessori  Kindergarten teacher and art class specialist.

It has now been almost four years since retirement and the connection between Toine and Ezma continues via phone and FaceTime calls. Surprisingly to themselves and others, they have become good friends. The connection between Ezma, Scotty and Nino has always been strong, even when the guys got married and lived in a free standing home significantly far away from 912. It truly is a lovely tale.

In life people come and go; personalities jive or clash; there are understandings and misunderstandings; busy times and quiet times; successes and failures; genuine people and not so genuine. 

Sometimes we go out on a limb and gamble with our life choices — success is not 100%; but, holding on to a sure win and holding tightly to the magic mirror that will forever hold you to account, is what ultimately shapes happiness.

So now the time has come for Ezma, Scotty, Nino and Toine to look deeper into that magic mirror and directly say to themselves  “Where do we go from here?”

Well, when looking carefully at that reflection, something amazing  happens. They become the image in the mirror and find themselves looking forward not back. They see what an ideal future will look like and realize it is the ideal time for all four to embark on a new adventure of a lifetime — together.  

As many can attest, there was once a need for big city life for young, aspiring youth — especially young, aspiring small town youth. But, that was then and this is now and beyond. Feelings change; dreams change; and, a need to go back and bring all of it together for that final stretch of the finite lifespan, drives some people away from dead ends or ruts, in favour of living the dream — a new dream.

Nino and Ezma lived in small town Central Canada during their younger years; Scotty is originally from the Maritimes and small town Toine absolutely loved her many visits to that part of the country.  

They have all aged and aged well. Personal and professional goals have been accomplished; the family members and friends have either passed on or they have disbursed all over the globe; and, the original need for the big city experience has come and gone.

  

The magic mirror says it is time to move on, to move forward, to move elsewhere away from the hustle and bustle of big city life and on to the glorious serenity of small town Acadia — a very quaint cultured and historic region of maritime Canada, where the roots and interests of all four friends fit, and can nicely and easily continue to blend into an exciting, intriguing and delightful final leg of a great life. And so it was …

Their first look at the real estate listings manifests a wide range of options, but none more beautiful than the seaside triplex character home, on acreage, overlooking the Bay of Fundy on the west coast of Nova Scotia. The center unit is the bigger of the three and ideal for Scotty and Nino; the left of center will suit Toine just fine and the iconic mahogany framed fireplace of the third unit and spacious bathroom would be the clincher to aspire Ezma to agree. 

And agree she did, as did Toine. Scotty and Nino could hardly wait to pack up and go, to get there first, so that moving in would be easy and seamless for a final celebration of four lives well lived.

And so, as it was dreamt and written on this 22nd day of the second month in the 22nd year of 2000, at the tail end of 22 months of the world being turned 

upside down by the COVID-19 virus and all of its variants, it came to pass that this diverse group of four free-spirited, distinctly different people with different personalities, skills, likes and dislikes, regrouped and learned to live together comfortably, and happily, committed to each other, for as long as they each would live.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Antoinetta (Netty) DeWit is a retired provincial government public servant who worked away from her home base for 28 years to serve in a unique working environment, second to no other she ever had. 

That experience turned her life around and into a fairy tale come true.

This story is for Ezma, Scotty and Nino!

MARCH 2022

My First Senior's Moment

 MY FIRST SENIOR’S MOMENT

There was a Facebook ad on one of my group Facebook pages a few weeks ago inviting me to attend a free showing of a movie called A Christmas Story. It was billed as a special event for seniors and a fundraiser for the local FoodBank. The sponsors were the Cineplex Odeon theatre, the Pitt Meadows Seniors Society, Starbucks and the BC Association of Community Response Networks. This would be my very first seniors’ event.

Upon arrival, I was greeted at the door by a young lass who checked my credentials and led me to the first of three welcome tables. One was to check my name off a list, the second was to collect swag such as a key chain, notebook, pens, eraser, screen wipe cloth, calendar, magnet and pillbox.  The pillbox really through me into a spin, but the other stuff was much appreciated. The third table was Starbucks where I got a nice sized lemon danish and was offered coffee and tea. 

As we sat and waited for the movie to start, the volunteer coordinator was at the front with a microphone thanking us for coming and telling us why the event was taking place — to raise awareness of the work being done by the Seniors’ Centre and the community during this COVID-19 era, and expressing appreciation of our support for the Food Bank.  Following the speeches there was a door prize draw.  

With a crowd of 200 people and about a dozen door prizes, I felt sure I would win something.  After six draws, I was beginning to feel sceptical and then the next draw was announced as something from the HandyDart service.  “Oh, great”, I said to my self. “I hear my name coming!”  Sure enough — my name was called. Suddenly that pillbox came to mind making this senior life too close too soon.

The lady behind me said if I cannot use it, she knew of someone who could.  I replied by saying well let me open the envelope just to be sure I didn’t misunderstand.  I carefully opened the envelope and there was a note saying compliments of The HandyDart service and attached was a $25 grocery gift card.  I sat down and smiled.

This was a great way to start my life in the world of seniors!

THE NUT CRACKER'S TALE

 THE NUT CRACKER’S TALE 

                                                

[The challenge in cracking a nut is to extract it in its whole form, as we do when forging a friendship. If we fail, it is such a disappointment.]

I can remember at Christmas time a family tradition was the unique presence of a big bowl of unshelled mixed nuts on the living room coffee table, along side a nutcracker.

The family would gather mid-afternoon or after dinner, and take turns cracking nuts. We would watch each other carefully as we sometimes struggled to get the right crack or to get the sometimes tightly packed nut out of its shell. We would laugh when a piece of shell would go flying across the room or into someone’s hot chocolate drink. We would smile at our successes and frown when a robust looking nut was empty, dried up or rotten. Sometimes the nut just wasn’t what it was cracked up to be. Sometimes we conquered the challenges alone and other times we accepted help.  There is a lot to learn about life from a bowl of nuts.

When I look at my list of friends, acquaintances, former teachers, classmates, cohorts and employees, neighbours and family members, I see Macadamias and Pecans at the top and Filberts at the bottom. Everyone else fits nicely in between as Cashews, Brazils, Almonds and Walnuts. Each has its unique and welcome qualities.

Every nut and every person is different; some easy to like and others take a bit of an effort; some are hard to fully embrace and others you can only take in small doses or not at all. There are those you like or like for a while, and then you move on believing someone else will take those on. I lean towards the more obviously reliable and predictable, with the occasional dab into the unknown or unwanted. 

A diversity of choices and decisions are what spice up a beautiful bowl of anything.  Sometimes surprises can be good but then there are the times when we get totally blindsided by a filbert that has been disguising itself as a macadamia. Imposters! Those folly experiences can leave us with a very bad taste in our mouths for a while — I have had one or two of those in this past decade; but, eventually, I step back, shake my head, and jump forward to better options. Imposters aside, each authentic nut has its qualities.

A Brazil nut, for example, is the most stubborn of all — tough shell, tight fit, tough to crack and tough to unload; but, with perseverance, and a lot of patience and confidence, the effort to get there can be worth it. Some people like that kind of challenge and don’t give up. Others may give them a try but, ultimately, just walk away. 

A Walnut, with all of its quadrants, can be complicated to crack, bitter to eat and difficult to figure out, especially if you don’t approach the crack or the reassembly of the nut strategically. Somehow it tastes better when after the crack, the nut is intact. They are a lot of work!

The Almond is pretty basic and widely appreciated. It is easy to get along with (with a bit of practice), unless you press it too hard. Whole or half — it is always delightful , mellow and satisfies a hunger.

The Cashew, lightly salted, is always the most cherished and comforting. After all who doesn’t go for the cashew first! They don't disappoint.

The Macadamia and Pecan are consistently good and they are few and far between in our bowl of nuts (life)— hard to find, but worth holding on to. I savour and guard them very carefully.  

Although the actual Hazelnut, sometimes mixed up with its cousin the Filbert, looks nice and slick from the outside, its looks can be deceiving. Be very careful and ready — of all the nuts in the bowl, its inside is occasionally dry, rotten or empty. But, every once in a while you get a really good one! As in life, picking a hazelnut can be a bit of a gamble, but it can be a prize too.

The moral of this story is this: Every type of nut has its own character, shape, style and taste. Each attracts different audiences. Some I can either take or leave behind. 

Others I just have no desire to try or try anymore. Now that I am 65,  I look for quality in my life — things like reliability and trust in a mixture of options. 

As a child sitting around that coffee table, I was not allowed to be picky. I had to take what was there and no new nuts were added until the bowl was empty. Over time, I learned that not every nut stands the test, and being picky became okay. What you initially see or think is not always what you expected. The mystery could be a pleasant surprise. If not, spit it out and walk away. It is okay to take charge; it is okay to change the goal posts and it is okay to be flexible..

So at this year’s Christmas table, I am enjoying the Macadamias, Pecans, Cashews, Brazils, Walnuts and Almonds with a happy heart and mind; in the New Year, I will still take a chance on the occasional Hazelnut because they do remind me that nobody can be perfect all of the time — and that is okay too. 

I have become a pretty good nut cracker over the years. I have survived the disappointments and thoroughly enjoyed the successes, and am looking forward to another carefully navigated year ahead within a handful of delightful mixed nuts.

Happy Nut Cracking … and may your New Year nut bowl be filled with the finest variety of mixed nuts from this day forward. 

GOING THERE by KATIE COURIC

 Getting There

My family and friends know I am not an avid reader; in fact, of all the things on the list of things I can do, the last on the list is reading.

But, I am “getting there”! 

Every once in a while I spot a book that just might draw me in. I enjoy human interest pieces, biographies and autographies of people known to me directly or indirectly, and right now I am truly enjoying the recently published book entitled GOING THERE by Katie Couric.

She’s an American news journalist who started in the girl Friday role at a small town station and worked her way up to top ranking CNN, NBC and ABC roles. She grew up with encouragement and support from a loving family and great friends. She had an early vision of striving to succeed in media and to dispel the notion that women can only do the make-up, diet and fashion segments of a news program. She stood up to the status quo in the profession and in her personal life, and offered alternatives — winging it, screwing up now and then, but succeeding full speed ahead thereafter. 

This book opens up who she was and who she is, and how she got there. It is blunt. It is personal. It is successfully retaining my attention, and I highly recommend it for your seasonal gift list!  

MY WEST COAST DAY -- ALL ABOARD?

 MY WEST COAST DAY: ALL ABOARD

The other day I embarked on a day journey on the West Coast Express train from Maple Meadows to downtown Vancouver.  As I stood on the platform, early as usual, I noticed a new sign, a bilingual sign, alerting passengers to free suicide prevention counselling.  Seemed like an odd place for the advert, but I guess we are in a social adjustment era that is seeing a need to reach out in large open settings. 

I have not been on the train in a couple of years but, interestingly, I found myself standing in the exact same spot on the platform as always. I entered the train via the same doors, turned in the same direction to the same sitting area, and then stopped myself. “Time for a change”, my inner voice said as my body turned left to reach the top floor to the observatory level.

What a difference a change can make! 

It was too dark to take photos but I could see the bright red blueberry fields like I have never seen them before. I felt like I was on top of the sawdust piles when we passed the fibre mill and on top of the huge rock piles as we passed the gravel fields; and, I could see that I was at eye level with the engineer of the passing train along the second track. I also noticed the sprawl of high rises spread out over the skyline of Coquitlam, blocking the view of the mountains that graced this once sleepy, often forgotten community. I was seeing my world from a whole new perspective and I’ll bet this COVID era has done that to us.

As the train stopped at its final destination, Waterfront Station which is inside of the former Canadian Pacific Railway station, I remained seated and watched the working class scramble out quickly to get to work or to catch their bus or skytrain connection to wherever they still had to go. In those few moments, 

I reminisced about my days of olde when I was one of those who leapt off the train with an extra jump in my step, as I pranced off to a much loved political job on the top floor of our World Trade Centre in Canada Place.  The song “Oh What A Life” sprang to mind and I smiled. It was that life that led me to this life, making me older and wiser, and perhaps more patient and understanding than I ever thought I could be.  

I think part of that reflection stems from a new book I am currently reading entitled The Indian in the Cabinet written by Jody Wilson-Raybould.  She was elected as a rookie Member of Parliament and instantly put into the dual role of Minister of Justice and Attorney General of Canada.  In her words, and I believe her, it was both an honour and a privilege to serve in that capacity and she took her responsibilities very seriously without regret.   She had never been involved in a political party and never served in an elected role except for elected roles within Indigenous organizations. In her words, the one is not at all like the other.

The long and short of it is, the inner workings of a political job is mind boggling and shocking, and for some, it is very difficult to play along. I can attest to that from my own direct experience in political life. Between the reality of the power within the inner circle of a leader’s office and what a dedicated and honourable elected person or staff person is prepared to offer, you are simply comparing apples to oranges. The name of the game, and yes it is a game, is TOW THE LINE.  In more or less Jody’s words: it is a unique culture inside the bowels of political life, divorced from daily realities and the lives of regular folk.  It truly is a completely different world and something that can only be understood by the people within that web. The notion of democracy was not intended to evolve like this — of that I am sure!

Anyway, the book has received a lot of accolades and recently was nominated for a prestigious award. I have one more chapter to read and can’t wait for the train ride home.

Lunch today was with a great guy named Clark; we went to the same high schools, worked on the same political campaigns and worked side by side on the political side of governance for at least two decades.  He has become a Queen’s Counsel lawyer, with significant international work experience, and he is a proud father of two academically strong university students.  We always have time for each other and treat each other to meals when we go out. Our friend Christy sometimes joins us but not this time — we did send her a photo though and we know she will smile in absentia. 

The train service to and from my home base is limited which means we have 4 trains out in the morning and 4 trains back in the late afternoon.  I had an hour to kill before getting the first train home so I went to the station intending to sit on a bench to finish the book.  All the benches had been removed!  I stood there still, and looked around at the beauty of that majestic historic building and noticed some information plaques mounted on some of the pillars. I went outside and walked around the building, and recalled my own train rides from that station to Trois Rivières, Quebec and to Ottawa — four return trips in total. Oh what a ride that was!  

Suddenly I could easily remember the sounds of trains, train whistles, train brakes; the waves from the engineer, conductor, porters and passengers, and the CP Telecommunications office where my dad worked when we lived in North Bend.  I can also remember missing all of that when we moved to the big city on the West Coast. It was like we left a lot behind and we would never get it back;  but, seeing much of that preserved in this historic CPR station, and having seen the amazing preservation of railway history when visiting North Bend last summer, has been both nurturing and appreciated. 

At this point I heard the doors to the outgoing train open and I scurried to get a good seat. The day has been misty and foggy, making me feel drowsy.  When I worked the Vancouver beat, my biggest fear was falling asleep on board and not waking up in time to disembark. The latter never happened; but, the former always did. This time I fell asleep before departing and woke up two stops early.

It has been a delightfully diverse day. I am happy to be home and will now get down to the final pages of a truly open and honest book written by a truly open and honest, proud and principled Indigenous Canadian. Getting it into the curriculum of high school Social Studies and university level Political Science would definitely be a great next step — not likely the former but more likely the latter. 

All Aboard!

 

JOURNALING THE JOURNEY ARUBA 2021

 JOURNALING THE JOURNEY

Aruba in Autumn 2021

Part 1:

FEELING HOME

There are many things about Aruba that keeps me coming back – over and above the warm climate, warm sea water and warm people.

For me it’s also the clean air, clean white sandy beach and clear blue sea. Add to that the ease of relaxing, smiling and just lying back on the plush blue beach towel lain upon a firmly strapped lounge chair, under a grass palapa, with my eyes open or closed, while I reflect back, think ahead and just enjoy the moment.

It all comes to me very easily but especially when I see the Canadian flag waving in the wind along side the Dutch and Aruban ones, all swaying in sync with the gentle breeze.

I feel in sync with this whole place.  Thank you Aruba.

Part 2:

BEING HOME

Recently, my sister and I embarked on a long awaited trip to the Caribbean island called Aruba. I journaled the journey and will post bits of it here over the next few days.  

Aruba is a small Dutch island in the southern Caribbean Sea just north of Venezuela. It is about 16 km long and 8 km wide; the population is around 100,000.  Because of its closeness to the equator, the temperature is always warm or hot; the gentle breeze from the Sea makes the hot temps tolerable.

When my dad was in the Royal Dutch Navy, one of his first overseas trips was Aruba. He fell in love with it instantly and vowed to one day return.  Return he did, after marrying my mom, raising four children and saving enough money to travel back many, many years later.  They went back together a few times and decided without a doubt it was THE place to go regularly, so they bought timeshares at La CABANA BEACH RESORT. 

Eventually other family members joined in and also bought timeshares for the same reason.  It is just one of those places that instantly assures you that although other locations we have been to or where others have been are nice, absolutely nothing we have ever seen or heard about comes close to what we experience time and time again in Aruba. 

It’s a Dutch island, well supported by the motherland (The Netherlands) and we come from Dutch heritage; the people speak Aruban, Dutch and English in various degrees; it has a lot of sunshine and we love sunshine; the sea water is crystal clear and comforting all of the time and we love it that way;  the soft, white sandy beach is several kilometres long; it is outside of the hurricane zone; it is relatively easy to get to and relatively cheap travel if you follow the sales; it is NOT commercialized (that’s another plus) but it has everything we need and more.  

So now as I reacclimatize and sit here with my dutch cheese on toasted Aruban pumpkin seed bread and café mocha, I will review my Journey Journal and photos for future anecdotes to share with you. 

Part 3: 

ARRIVING WITH CONFIDENCE

I woke up the morning of September 21, 2021 with an additional reason to add a jump to my step and do a happy dance on the white sandy beach on the Island of Aruba. I had just heard that my long ruling favoured political party secured another election victory — a minority government is after all a victory of sorts even though the participants would have preferred a different outcome!

I was delightfully surprised that a few of my on-side and off-side political friends and acquaintances and the non-political ones, who knew I was away for the first such election ever in my life, kept in touch with me in real time to be sure I was up to the minute up to date as the Canadian networks unravelled the regional results bit by bit. Although I, too, was watching the outcomes in real time on my iPad, having my astute contacts keep in touch made me feel like we were all in the room together, mindful and respectful.  It was a new way of celebrating democracy, friendship and humanity.

As we often hear after the election results are known: “the people have spoken” — from here the elected Members of Parliament move forward with what we’ve got, and hope for balanced decision making for the greater good of all. 

With that event completed, I shut the door on all of the complaining and criticism that always follows elections results. To me ‘vacation’ means to vacate the dominate lifestyle and switch to a whole different ambiance, routine and opportunity to enjoy a wonderful temporary distraction. This time I am travelling with my sister Cathy.

The moment the United Airlines flight landed at Oranjestad airport, we forgot about the length of the trip, breezed through Customs and jumped into the SUV taxi that was waiting for us at the taxi station. We followed the protocols for checking in to our lodgings at La Cabana Beach Resort and Casino, unpacked, dressed for the 32 degrees Celsius temperature and reacquainted ourselves with the grounds and people we have gotten to know over the years. It truly is our home away from home, and we love it. This shoe definitely fits and we wear it so very well.  

Part 4:

ESTABLISHING OUR ROUTINE

ARUBA is a place I have visited 30 times over the past 22 years. Family members have  been coming for about ten of those years. As such, we have developed a routine that meets our needs just fine. We do add something new now and then to see if it works, but by and large we are happily set in our ways.

On this trip, my guest was my sister.  She got up extra early every morning to secure a front row palapa (grass tiki hut) on the beach so we have no obstructions in front of us. We see nothing ahead of us except the clean soft white sand and the various shades of blue that define the Caribbean Sea. I show up with my cappuccino and the local newspaper in hand about a half hour later. By then Cathy has already embarked on her very long walk down the beach and does not return for at least 30 minutes. When I see her come by, we wave and she continues on to the north end of the beach before entering the warm, soft water to cool down and relax.  

Eventually I join her and we talk to each other, or not; we talk to strangers, or not; we talk to ourselves, or not — for sometimes as much as an hour.  On average, we are in the water about four times a day, twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon. By midday, we individually break away from the beach and return to our villa to enjoy the air conditioning and make lunch. It is a nice break from the heat.

While under our palapa, we stare at people walking along the beach or wading in the water; we smile when we see people do selfies and amateur photo shoots; we marvel at the many variations of bathing suits worn by men and women; Cathy reads and I write.  We both enjoy watching the pelicans and other sea diving birds navigate and prepare for their unsuspecting catch over and over again until they’ve had their fill. We watch the jet skiers, para-sailers, water boarders and the occasional wind surfer enjoy the pleasure of being free out on the wide open Sea. We also enjoy engaging in conversation with the people in the palapas beside and behind us — all more than two metres apart. We have met a diversity of people from all over the world and each has taught us something interesting and something new about life, lives and living.

Before we know it, the afternoon ends, we pack up to enjoy some pool time and socializing on the pool deck, before returning to our unit to freshen up and prepare for a much anticipated dinner. The evening usually ends with a good evening walk, sometimes a special dessert or time in the casino to see how long it takes to lose ten dollars (or not!)  Or, we play a couple of games of cards at the kitchen  table before watching a bit of television and then very easily falling asleep.

Oh what a life it is!

Part 5:

SATISFYING THE PALATE

One of the great things about vacating regular life to enjoy a vacation, is the special attention we get to pay to our palates. This is no time to stick with the at-home norms; it is a time to branch out, be bold, experiment. Food is also a popular topic of conversation with strangers and acquaintances on the beach or on the pool deck.

On the day of our arrival, cooking or going out is the last thing on our mind. The trip is long and long trips can be tiring especially when you start off with the red eye out of Vancouver. But, you gotta eat!

My sister was anxiously awaiting a first opportunity to walk across the street to our favourite grocery, bakery, deli, café and liquor store called Super Foods.  “Super” is an understatement as that place surpasses ‘super’!  Once there, she took a b-line to the café where we can buy take out Dutch beef croquettes — definitely our life long most favourite light and delicious treat.  They are deep fried log shaped ragout that have been dipped in egg, then bread crumbs, egg again and bread crumbs again.  The ragout is a delicious mix of chunks or strands of beef, beef stock, spices and these include purée potatoes. We enjoy eating them with or without bread; with or without salad.  It is the perfect ‘just what we need’ first night meal.

Since we both enjoy cooking, we take turns creating interesting dinner meals usually making more than we need so there will be leftovers.  For breakfasts and lunches, we tend to do our own thing. If I do a take-out for breakfast, for example, I usually don’t need a lunch because the offerings are very generous. Sometimes a take-out lunch is so generous I can easily eat the leftovers for a subsequent dinner.

I enjoy going out for dinner at least 3 times a week and always select something I don’t normally select in my regular life.  The beef in Aruba is usually from Argentina and it is so naturally tender, it almost melts in your mouth. The chefs know how to spice it up just right and how to cook it, and I have never been disappointed. 

At the Bohemian restaurant, the meal started with a charcuterie plate of bread, sliced deli meats, pickled onions and a good pile of Dutch cooked potatoes topped with melted Swiss cheese; the filet mignon meal includes various roasted veggies and creamy scalloped potatoes au gratin. Dessert? No thank you … too full!

Las Ramblas, a five star restaurant located at our Resort, is the place I order Surf N Turf which is a nice piece of bbq beef tenderloin and skewers with bacon wrapped scallops plus prawns, with roasted potatoes and other veggies. Cathy had the catch of the day which was a delicious Red Snapper with all the fixings. Our meal was preceded by a delightful glass of red wine sangria. Dessert? No thank you … too full!!

On another evening I also start my dinner meal at the Islander Grill with that sangria before enjoying a delicious and very garlicky Caesar salad topped with grilled prawns.  It is a light meal, but it definitely pleased my palate very nicely. Dessert? Yes, over at the bakery in Super Foods, I selected a chocolate mousse pastry and Cathy got her favourite white chocolate doom on an almond flavoured cookie crumble crust. Both very Dutch.

Aruba does have hundreds of restaurants spread out all over the Island; but, during this COVID era, tourists are being more careful and more aware. I prefer to eat-in most of the time, and that includes take-outs from the local restaurants close by.  Some people eat out all of the time or do take-out all of the time or eat in all of the time, but that is not something that I enjoy. For me, I choose a nice mix of different choices — different from the home front, giving me a vacation away from the norm, leaving me stress-free and my tummy happy.

Part 6:

AS THE SUN SETS

Well, as they say, all good things have to come to an end eventually and a vacation falls under that umbrella too. 

Aruba is my haven of peace and joy, relaxation and spiritual solace, and where I get the best tans. We had a fabulous 16 days of time in a magical place, our paradise on earth — Aruba ta duchi! 

But, as with every day here and around the world, the sun rises in the morning and gets our day started, and sets in the evening, to gives us time to appreciate what was, what is and what is about to come.

Life is good and we are happily blessed ….

VisitAruba.com