Foggy sunrise

This morning I had to drive from Vancouver to Langley. I was not looking forward to the drive as there had been a major traffic accident southbound at the north end of the Alex Fraser bridge, my intended route. I briefly considered taking Highway 1 instead over the new Port Mann bridge, but it probably would have taken longer.

Ultimately it proved to be a good decision to stick to #10 Highway into Surrey as I snapped this interesting photo of the sun rising above a fog bank. If it wasn't for the orange hue, you might think it was a moon rise. It's not often you can safely look at the sun. The fog was an ideal filter.

How He Does It

I think the sub-title should be revised to something such as, "Lance's extraordinary descent from multiple unprecedented wins in his chosen sport to the 25 cent bin at the Sally Ann Thrift Shop".

Better hurry; I saw only one copy in the basket.

Centenary

Do you you know anyone that’s celebrated their centenary? It’s pretty rare, but becoming ever more common, to celebrate one’s 100^th year on this fair planet.

We attended such an event a couple of weeks ago. My Aunt’s mother turned 100. She’s a feisty German widow that’s lived with my Uncle and Aunt for about the last 45 years. When I was a kid we’d go there for family events and she’d always make a fuss about our arrival. My dad’s side of the family is German, and unfortunately I’m the only one of my cousins that never learned to speak the language. So again unfortunately, I could never really communicate with “Oma”. (She’s not technically my blood-related grandmother (Oma), but that’s how she’s affectionately known.) Nonetheless she always greeted me warmly with something like, “Oh there’s David!”

 At the birthday party I had but one regret; Oma didn’t recognize me at first. I suppose one isn’t always cognizant of the fact that one’s own appearance changes over time. When I greeted Oma and presented her with flowers I wasn’t expecting that she wouldn’t recognize me. My Aunt actually didn’t even recognize me at first either. I feel rather guilty about that. I fear I’ve become a bit of the black sheep in the family. My wife and I live in Vancouver and almost all the rest of my Dad’s side of the family live in Langley. That’s really no excuse, I know; it’s only at most an hour away. But it seems to have made a difference the last 12 years or so. That has to be my New Year’s Resolution; not to be such a stranger. Family ties are important.

After some momentary confusion, my Aunt did indeed recognize me and all was well. She had to go to Oma’s side and speak loudly (she’s rather deaf) to tell her who I was. Then that familiar smile appeared and she said, “Oh, David!” She’s still very much alert and remained the centre of attention for the rest of the evening.

I have to say; the Germans really know how to throw a party! The celebration was held in a Langley restaurant and we had a whole side room to ourselves. Shauna and I sat in the middle of a table surrounded by several Aunts and my cousin and his wife. We got caught up on family news.

After the wonderful dinner is when the party really started. Upon arrival there had been a roving accordion player providing background ambiance. What could be more stereotypical than accordion music at a German gathering? It brought back memories of the parties my relatives would throw at special occasions. In those days everyone had those huge entertainment units that really were pieces of furniture. You’d open the lid, place a stack of LPs on the spindle and get hours of music, provided none of the records skipped.

However, the real surprise came after the plates had been cleared. Our musician went over to Oma’s side and serenaded her with several selections from 1920’s German operettas. You’d never know it from looking at his slender frame, but this guy could really belt out the high notes! Not being a real opera fan, I’ve never experienced this genre of music live. It’s pretty impressive, especially in such a small room! With some of the powerfully sustained high notes, I was half-expecting a wine glass or two to shatter. I caught several people dabbing a tissue to their eye. I’m kind of at a loss for words. It was a very impressive musical performance. Oma was mouthing the words to several of the songs.

As I was growing up, typically at family shindigs, the evening meal would be followed by dessert. I reminisced with one of my Aunts earlier in the evening that I fondly remembered family gatherings when we were kids at her place. We’d always be outside running around the farm. When we’d come in again after dinner the lid of the full-size freezer by the back door would be covered with various cakes. I’d end up sampling a small piece of each of them. Far be it from me to insult any of the bakers!

There were special guests in attendance from Germany having flown in especially for this event. One of them recited a story/ poem in German, so I really couldn’t follow it. The gist of it, I think, was a description of the perfect gift for the centenarian. It was an everyday product, available in a multitude of different colours and textures, and very practical. I wish I could have understood it as it was being read as several people found it amusing. At the end a replica of a cake was presented, constructed from rolls of toilet paper, with a can of beer hidden in the middle! We’re lucky Oma has a sense of humour.

The real cake was much more palatable. It was a strawberry shortcake. Very good indeed. Although if I’d been asked to bet on what kind of cake would be served, I’d have said Black Forest.