Stanley Park Chicken (S.P.C.)

I did an abrupt double-take the day I saw a chicken in Stanley Park.

I was driving home with some friends from a softball game in Brockton Oval.
For those who may be unfamiliar with Stanley Park, it is situated near Vancouver's downtown core, and is home to many things. There are tennis courts, a miniature railway, an aquarium, a plethora of gardens and trails, totem poles, and even a pitch an putt golf course. Surrounding the borders of the park is the seawall, measuring over 8km in length, and providing a daily source of exercise to joggers, cyclists and rollerbladers.
In addition to the hundreds of homeless squatters living in Stanley Park, it is frequented by hundreds of thousands of visitors and tourists every year. The type of wildlife generally seen in the park includes a variety of fish and waterfowl, raccoons, great blue herons, squirrels, turtles, frogs, skunks, coyotes, crows, eagles and hawks.

But rarely, if ever, does one see a chicken on the side of the road.

By the time I realized what I had seen, our car was accelerating quickly away from the chicken. "Oh my god, did you guys see that chicken beside the road?!" I exclaimed.
They had not.
Was the chicken a figment of my imagination? Perhaps it had escaped from the children's animal farm, located somewhere within the park. A fugitive chicken... a chicken on the run.

The following week, as we again departed from a softball game, I sat keenly beside the window, peering out at the dense foliage and massive trees as we drove out of the park. Sure enough, as we neared a familiar bend in the road, I saw it.
Quietly pecking and searching in the shrubs and brush, the chicken seemed unphased by the passing traffic. This time, I was quicker to point it out to my fellow passengers.
"Look! There is another chicken!"
Yes, we all were in agreement that it was truly odd to see the chicken in the park. Were there more chickens? How did they get here?
Several jokes flew around the car, the highlight of which was "SPC - Stanley Park Chicken - it's finger licking good!"
Driving away, conversation in the front of the car resumed, while I remained pensive about the chicken. I felt an inner glow of happiness to know I lived in a city, a very big city, a city with a population of 600,000 lying within a greater region of 2 million, the largest city in B.C., and the 3rd largest city in Canada, but more importantly, a city with wild chickens. The elusive Stanley Park Chicken - rarely seen, but always cherished.

Up until today, I thought I was the only one who had given the chicken so much thought. Perhaps I was the only one thinking of the chicken, because, as it turns out, I need a lesson in farmyard animals.

My Stanley Park Chicken wasn't a chicken after all.

No, it seems this rogue park visitor is ... a rooster.
The Stanley Park Rooster. SPR.
Further, not only I am not the only one to notice the rooster, just today an article appeared in the Vancouver Sun regarding the rooster.



Someone leaving roosters at Stanley Park petting zoo
VANCOUVER - For more than a decade someone has been dropping roosters off in Stanley Park.

As I am not a subscriber to the Vancouver Sun online, I was only able to view this little 'teaser'. It turns out, according to a lovely woman at the Vancouver Parks Board office, that someone has been abandoning roosters in the Park.
She herself had only noticed the rooster a month or so ago.
The roosters have not been captured and integrated into the park's 'animal farm' because their health is unknown - they may be unhealthy or diseased.
I don't think the chicken/rooster I saw was diseased, but what do I know.

Heck, I didn't even know he was a rooster.

Ghetto

Who said you can't roast marshmellows in the city?

One of the reasons I was keen to move to this apartment is the balcony.
Although it isn't terribly spacious, it gets the job done.
We moved from an apartment sans balcony, and I vowed that when I did have a balcony, that I would be out there everyday having my coffee. I haven't really done that yet... but let's blame all the rain we have been having for that.
We did purchase a balcony size BBQ (no, not a Hibachi) - it is called the 'Porta-Chef'. It has ample grilling space, and a warming rack. We have only had it for a few months, and thanks to the many BBQ'd meals we have enjoyed, we have already blown through a 20Lb tank of gas.

Earlier this week we found a new use for the Porta-Chef. While one friend has called this 'ghetto', I like to think we are crafty.
We removed the grill, lit her up, and ripped into a bag of soft, spongy, synthetically good marshmellows. I had crafted two roasting sticks from coat hangers, taking time to create a comfortable handle out of tape.

We roasted under the stars, usually doing the:
1)burn and char
2)remove charred layer
3)eat carcinogenic charred layer
4)repeat steps 1 to 4

We mixed in a little 'smores' action for good measure.
Nothing like having a marshmellow roast in the city.
yum yum.

Revealing the ABBA in me...

I had *such* a good time tonight!
M and I went to a dinner at Seany's tonight with another couple, and after beer, wine, salad, pasta, dessert, liqueurs... oh what a time we had!
We listened to a variety of 70's hits, and stayed a long time on two different ABBA albums, one of which was Voulez Vous. SO GOOD.
We danced, and sang, and drank, and laughed, and shared tales of childhood and our younger years. We listened to ABBA, the Mamas and Papas, Aretha Franklin, Tina Turner, Supertramp, and misc 80s.
Such fun. I think I am a little pickled, and I have to play softball at 9:30 am (yikes!)
But, boy, I had a good time. I can only hope for more of the same as the Summer of Steph approaches.
Life is good.
love n' hugs,
the asthmatic

Goals

The Summer of Steph (SOS) approaches, and I find myself generating a mental list of all the things I want to do or accomplish over the next 2 months. This list grows and evolves every day, and although I started to type it out just now, perhaps I will simply mention my goals as they are being worked on or achieved.

Good grief, I was going to describe my first goal, but am overcome with gastrointestinal distress. yikes! pardon while i go lie down. hopefully this is nothing serious.

To Be Continued...

Scottish Dancing, Mining, and Herons

While seemingly unrelated, all of the above were witnessed by me in the last 24 hours.

Yesterday I finished my day with a happy sigh.
I believe I actually said "boy, it's good to be alive."

The little things that make me happy are occasionally bizarre.
For example, after an *awesome* dinner, me and M decided to take a walk around the seawall. First off - that felt good. So many nights, we get sucked into the endless cycle of reruns and sitcoms, that while pleasant for the moment, leave me feeling a little empty after all is said and done.
We walked, briskly I might add, alongside the ocean as the sunset before our eyes.

It was invigorating.
Clearly I don't go for walks enough anymore.
At a certain point, I distinguished the sound of fiddles/pipers.
Enter exciting event #2 - the Scottish Dancing in Stanley Park. Apparently, throughout the summer, the Royal Scottish Country Dance Society dances in the park, combining free instruction with dancing to music.
Perhaps it is my Scottish heritage, but I think it is a hoot - and plan on going.
There were young and old, scottish and other, men, women, kilts, you name it.
The older woman who was the "caller" reminded me of an elderly Jennifer Saunders.

Anyhow. Good times at the park. Our walk continued by a location where Herons are nesting. WOW! What a noise these birds create! Overwhelming sounds of little babies chirping, and the adults squawking back (incase you haven't heard the Heron - while beautiful, they do *not* sound pretty). We stood in the middle of about 5 very tall trees that are FULL of big nests. A racoon made his way under the nests - he seemed to be nibbling on a little bird that must have fallen out. That tragedy aside, it was SO cool to be there.

My final observation to mention came today at school. I was teaching a grade 6/7 class, but across the hall was a grade 4 class (who I had taught before). After lunch, as students lined up to come in, I looked out the door and saw a grade 4 girl in line, and she was ... mining.
Now, most cultures would accept that nose picking is innapropriate.
Well, she appeared to know this, and had taken steps to make her actions less obvious. She stood there, with one hand over her nose, shielding it from view, while the other hand was working underneath.
Quite a sight.
It made me chuckle - I have witnessed other little ones use this technique.
I call the manoever the "Block and Pick".

Ever listen to The Postal Service?
I am listening to "Such Great Heights" - good song.
Turn it up. Most music is better when it is loud.
Yours in Happiness,
The Asthmatic

Summer

I have 2 weeks left of work.
I am both excited and nervous.
I am assured that I will qualify for EI, but I am nervous, given that I have an ROE with a code that = quit. I am assured that it is ok to quit one job for another, but then I am told that having that 'quit' on an ROE send up flags.
What makes matters worse is that I will not know for sure if I qualify until well into July.
Good thing I am putting money aside, but will it be enough.

*gulp*

Scissor Sisters

Thanks to a guy on my ball team, I am now addicted to 'Comfortably Numb' by the Scissor Sisters.
He would be the same fella who is responsible for my addiction to the song "Numa Numa" (officially known as Dragostea din tei) by O-Zone but which actually became famous thanks to this guy.

JUMP!

Lastnight, I tossed and turned. I yawned repeatedly.
Yes, I was tired. Yes, it was close to midnight, well past my bedtime.
Yet, while my body craved sleep, my mind raced like a sports car in the Indy.
I am not stressed out by any means... it isn't that I am worrying. Just that I am thinking alot. Additionally, I became hyper aware of noises around me. People on a balcony sharing drinks and tales, a rubby in the alley pushing his cart full of recyclables, the cats in the apartment dashing down the hall only to race back to their post, Michelle sleeping beside me...
I guess I finally managed to shutdown and sleep, only to be woken at 2:30am by a familiar tone... the synthetic cell-sounds of the song 'Jump' by Van Halen.
I chose that particular ringtone for when I receive a message on my cell.
Who the hell leaves me a message at 2:30 in the morning?

Turns out it was FIDO. Seems I have only used 78 of my 100 monthly daytime minutes.
Keep Talking! they wrote. Sure, they'd like that. F*ckers. I think I will call them today requesting no more 'messages'.

Preoccupied

I am overwhelmingly preoccupied with such random deep thoughts that my mind is swimming. I seem to be in a mental tail-spin since the Campbell River trip.
I am seemingly paralyzed by a desire to write, but feel constipated somehow because no words will come out. I think of my past - my family history, of which my father spoke at length during our visit. I think of his past, my past, our theories around the unravelling of my treasured family nucleus. I think of how crucial my friends have been to me through my life, and yet how I have lost touch with so many of them since I have moved to BC. Is it a reflection of living in a different province, a different time zone, in a different life? Is it that I am essentially married, and as we go, day to day, living happily in our world, that I let slide the world I shared with my friends. Don't get me wrong - I am very much in love and love our life - we are finally building it and enjoying it, as we are both out of school and with good jobs. But I am aware that I have neglected other parts of my life, something I would like to remedy.

Well, I have been inspired lately - in my last post I called it 'illumination'. Things in my life are gaining meaning. I am starting to realize some priorities in my life. I think one of my latest revelations is that time just flies by too quickly. i know it. But really. It is SO easy to get wrapped up in your own life, that days blend, weekends come and go, months pass, seasons change, and suddenly you stop and look around and the landscape of your life has changed. Friends have married, had babies, bought houses, moved away...

I have changed from being a participant in so many lives, to being a distant spectator.
I DO NOT want to be the distant spectator.
Hell, even in the lives of my family, I am a spectator. How has this transpired? All the things I want to be and the person I want to be in my family life is not who I am. Much of this is not really my fault - the life of the poor student does not afford the luxury of regular visits home.

Irregardless, something has changed in me.
Something has 'clicked'.
I have a vision... I know what I want to do (almost too much - ambitious as always) and I am beginning to realize who I want to be. It feels good.
I welcome the upcoming changes that I need to make ... that I WILL make.

I am 32.
Life stops for no one.
Life will not leave my behind.
I will live it. I will love it.

Illuminated

I have returned from a weekend away visiting my father.
He lives alone, having separated and divorced in the last few years.
The journey was not so bad ... a comfortable coach-ride, a ferry excursion, then more coach-riding.
This particular trip was made worse by the sudden onset of *cramps* in the last leg of the trip.

Excruciating.

And no option of laying down in a fetal position with a hot water bottle.
Searching my bag for a water bottle was fruitless... I had been organized in pre-pouring a bottle and chilling it in the fridge, but neglected to remove said bottle and pack it with me.
Desperate for relief, i did the only thing i could. I spent a minute or so collecting saliva in my mouth, then downed a Tylenol and swallowed. The saliva aided the tylenol in going down, atleast partially.

It seemed to get stuck about half way down my throat, where I spent the next 20 minutes swallowing repeatedly to encourage its passage.
All that aside, the trip was enlightening.
Having run out of time now, I will have to say more later.