Yesterday was deeply emotional. I went to bed exhausted at 9:00 pm.
It started off with a cry when I stopped to take in a display mounted by City of Vancouver planners who were soliciting feedback to their presentation about proposed changes to the “Davie Village” — the gay village that borders on my block.
They are creating a Jim Deva Plaza and closing the street that will host it. Jim was a life-long gay activist in the city and he did a magnificent job of representing a highly emotional, demanding and frustrated community—particularly through the AIDS epidemic.
The City plans for the plaza, a fancy street crossing and converting a laneway into a lovely pedestrian path are lovely. My tears flowed over the distance gay acceptance has come since my youth.
Then I went to the Saturday morning Farmers’ Market where I discovered that it was the final one of the season. I got two-dozen Mutsu apples, a whack of fresh organic corn and a tortierre. As well, I had a chat with all my regular vendors and was delighted to discover that they all will be at the winter markets.
Shopping at the Farmers’ Markets moves me every week. Dealing with the friendly knowledgeable growers is such a treat; it humanizes hardcore city life perfectly. There are musicians and dogs playing; it is a festive atmosphere in a way I like to believe village shopping once was.
And in the afternoon, the funeral of the patriarch of one of the finest families I met as a teacher. All four of the children in the family impressed me; when I was a teacher (1970-1972) this family welcomed me often into their home.
When I got home, I carefully cut all the kernels off the fresh organic corn—particularly rich so late in the season; I know, I ate some raw and loved it—and made a fresh corn polenta, pureeing it, cooking it and adding only butter, salt and pepper and feta cheese.
Then tired and blissfully to bed.
|David (left) was a favourite student through whom I|
met his entire family. His siblings join him here singing
at their father's wake yesterday. They are, left to right,
Megan, Murray and Barbara. Be still my beating heart.
|I introduced David to Bruce Greenwood and they became|
best buddies, so Bruce came to the wake. I use his full name
because he is a hugely successful actor who is recognizable.
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