He keeps dive bombing my head.
And buzzing right next to my ear.
And it's 1:30 am. Why is he not sleeping?
Yes, I know. The same could be said for me.
I was invited to a Photography show in Vancouver tonight.
Heather's friends, James and Laura, whom I'd never met before, gave us a ride in.
On our way into the city we were going to drop off their adorable 4 year old grandson ... Laura had been babysitting him during the day.
We were in their van, Isaac, in the way back, Heather and I in the middle seats, with James and Laura in the front. We crossed over the Port Mann, then took the first exit off the freeway. Then we turned left onto Cape Horn Way. I started paying less attention to the conversations around me and looked out the window. I used to live up that hill...
"Do you know that I live at the top of that hill?" Isaac says from the back seat just as his grandpa turns onto Dawes Hill Road.
"Do you know that I used to live at the top of this hill when I was a little girl?" I replied, in awe that we were going to drive right past the house I lived in for 5 years.
"What color is your house?" asked Isaac.
"Hmmm. I think it was brown..." I said.
"OH! Is it right next door to a blue house? Because I live in the blue house!"
We get to the crest of the hill and things look different. My house used to be next to a forest. A huge 100 acre forest. There was no forest. Just houses. And I must've been looking at the park across the street when we drove past 2230, because all of a sudden we were at the corner of Dawes Hill and Mundy. I missed it. We kept driving, and I saw the fields of my old school (Cape Horn Elementary) and I saw Glennda Graham's house. And then we turned onto the road that Kelly and Grace used to live on, and then we were at Isaac's house.
I haven't been back to this neighbourhood since we moved away when I was 10.
We dropped Isaac off then backtracked to the freeway.
This time I kept an eagle eye open for my old house.
And there it was.
Painted dark teal.
And looking shabby:
(It's the house in the middle. All you can really see is the roof.)
The huge forest is gone. Four houses were built in it's place.(So maybe it wasn't 100 acres. Probably 1 acre.)
You can see from the photo below that we had a sick view of the Port Mann Bridge from this house. Hahaha.
Mom and dad's current house has a view of the exact same bridge from the other side of the river.
See that hedge that separates our old house and the blue one next door?
Well, it was tiny/just planted when we lived here.
Once, when my dad watered those plants by spraying them with a hose, the overspray ended up on the neighbour's driveway. She came out to ask my dad to stop, so my dad just sprayed her. She was not amused. And he doesn't listen to nobody telling him where he can spray his hose.
He made darn sure he soaked her driveway every time he watered those trees. FOR FIVE YEARS.
Anyway, he will tell you that story if you go to visit him.
It's one he will always remember.
He feels no remorse.
She? Was a battleaxe. Apparently.
Some events just never leave our memories.
(Above pics, by the way, were taken from Google Street View.)
(I may have to come back here and walk around with my camera. I think my dad would like to see how the neighbourhood's changed.)
I'm in a van with people I don't know driving past the house I lived in from when I was 5 til I was 10.
Memories are washing over me, and I'm with people who didn't know me back then. Heck, they didn' even know me an hour ago.
We arrive in Vancouver half an hour later and park across the street from The Waterfall Building which is where the show is:
... and we (or at least I) feel like a frumpy, middle-aged haus frau next to all the long-legged, high-heeled, big-haired, urban girls who also attended.
The Photography Show/Sale was a fundraiser for Hope International's work in Ethiopia. After Heather and I had spent an hour checking out the photographs, we walked over to Granville Island where I whined that I hadn't brought my camera. (After I took the three photos with my phone camera, above, my memory was full.) We made a plan to come back to this area on the next nice day.
The drive home was full of conversation about Ethiopia, fundraising in general, and an upcoming fundraising event specifically. As we were exiting the freeway, Heather suggested I follow Laura on twitter. So while I'm looking her up, I ask her to spell her last name. So she's spelling it for me, while James says something about their son, John's amazing gymnastic ability and I put John's first name together with the last name I've just spelt out and exclaim, "Are you a Fundy family?"
"Oh my goodness. Our kids went to school together. Drew and John were in the same class!"
Our paths have likely criss-crossed a hundred times over the past 12 years.
I really should have made a bigger effort getting to know other fundy families.
I suck sometimes.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Inspiring people.
2. Talented people.
3. Generous people.