Finding great grandma's house...

The continuing saga of our adventures on Saltspring Island brought us down 

from Mount Tuam and to the pretty little church in Fulford Harbor...

This is St Paul's Catholic church.

The oldest one on the Island.

It was built between 1880 and 1885 with many old tombstones along the front and 

up the hill from here.

The materials were brought from Cowichan Bay by Indian canoes to Burgoyne Bay

and then from there by ox cart to it's present location.

Quite a feat back in the day.

I imagined little horse drawn wagons bringing 

the congregation to mass on Sunday mornings.

 Our next mission was along the Fulford Ganges road to search for the 

little house where my great grandparents homesteaded in the early 1900's.

The road meanders through a beautiful valley, rich in history of many

settlers who braved the rugged land to try and carve out a life here.

This is Bruce's Peak looking from the vicinity of the house.

Many family photos included this view, like this one of my

mom and my great grandpa Cairns...

While we were looking for the house with a few vague descriptions from my elderly aunt,

we saw this broken down house and of course gasped and had to pull over to explore...

For all of the years I've known Irma, this is one thing we thrive on!

Finding bits and pieces of times gone by.

Wanting to find out more. 

Wanting to see what lies beneath the broken bricks and weathered boards. 

Wishing the windows could give us more than just a reflection of the sky...

On this day we were the lucky ones.

As we gingerly approached the house, I noticed a man coming down the drive and he was 

kind enough to come and have a chat with us.

This is George Laundry...

...and this was his grandmothers house where he grew up.

I asked him if he knew where the Cairns' old homestead was and he said that it 

was the property next door. He remembered my 2 great uncles, 

Bill and John since they were about the same age as him.

He knew the midwife across the road, who delivered my grandma on a cold, snowy night

in December when Doc Maxwell couldn't make it

When he was old enough he went out into the world and became a physicist, married,

lived in New York and Toronto and then lo and behold, came back 

to live on the farm of his childhood.

He had an engagement that night but invited us back another time for a proper visit

to tour his place and hear some stories of the past.

The place is derelict now and he lives in a newer house up the drive,

but local people have been trying to use 

parts of the house to replace pieces of their own heritage homes

which are all but impossible to find.

So off we went down the road, past the Burgoyne Bay church...

Can't you just hear the church bell ringing through the farmlands on a Sunday morning?

Up the next driveway we found the house.

I recognized it from the few pictures I had seen and felt such a sense of connection even though

my great grandparents moved from here many years ago...

Now there is a young family who calls this little house their own and have been fixing it up.

While I was getting Irma to take my picture on the stoop, young Emily came out for chat...

Here's a (kind of blurry) picture of my great great grandpa with my grandma,

great aunt San and great uncle John (and Bob the dog) in front of the same house...

Emily and I were talking about grandparents and dogs and such

and then she told me something quite interesting. 

She was also born in this little house where all of my great grandma's children were born.

Then her mom Debbie came out and told us that Emily was born on the 19th of December.

My grandma was born on the 18th of December!

About 80 years apart. Isn't that something?

So this kind family let us intrude on their day for a few minutes, 

letting us walk around a bit and take pictures...

I will send Debbie some photos of the place when I can find a few from my mom's collection.

It really made me feel good to know that this lovely family is now creating their own history 

here on the Fulford Ganges Road. 

Bringing new stories to add to some of the old ones.

Perhaps catching a glimpse into the past of a life that in some ways is very

much akin to their own.

These places are echoes of those who paved the way for us.

The people who once lived here, as my great Uncle Bill once said,

are 'The Origin of the Species' which is our family.

They are the reason why, when I plunge a spade into the soil, I feel connected to the earth.

Or when I can peaches in late August,  I am once again taken back to the farm.

I have a mirror in my hallway that belonged to my great grandparents, 

which hung in their house here on Saltspring and every once in a while, when I pass it, I catch a shadow of a young pioneer wife and husband and hear the cluck of chickens in the background...

Jack, May and Agnes (San) 1922

Great Great Grandad Cairns, 1930

Bill, John, Agnes (San) and Marge (my grandma), 1938

In search of monasteries...but finding spaceships

This past week I spent the day with my friend Irma in search of a mystery monastery,

my great grandmothers old house and, well, just a good old fashioned adventure.

Our destination...Saltspring Island.

We left from the tiny town of Crofton on a beautiful fall day.

This is probably the largest of the southern Gulf islands, with a healthy population

of artists, musicians, retiree's, farmers, loggers, fishermen and a general assortment

of alternative life-styles.

There's a plethora of studios, galleries, shops and restaurants but that kind of 

tour will have to wait for another day.

Irma had been over there in the summer and had done some exploring along a winding

road up a mountain. Unfortunately the gals she was with weren't into seeing

what was around the bend and she had to rely on some Google Earth maps
when she got home to see what was there.
 She knew there was a Buddhist monastery up there
which looked very interesting on Google Earth with some sort of
huge round structure...or so we thought.
Near the top of the road we passed a numbered sign with colourful prayer flags but
we kept going straight and finally came to the end of the road...

...and there it was!

A spaceship had landed on top of Mount Tuam!!
Well, not really....but that's certainly what came to mind.
There were several radio towers up there but we had no idea what this monster structure was...

Turns out that 'War of the Worlds' was not upon us, but instead we later
learned that it was used as navigational equipment for ships but is now defunct.
Atop Mount Tuam (680 metres) we had amazing views of the east side of Vancouver Island and
just below us, somewhere down there was Irma's house in Cherry Point...

It was spectacular!
We were the only ones up there, besides the birds and the clouds.
We settled down on the edge of a bluff and had our picnic...

We hadn't seen each other for a few months and so we sat and chatted of our comings
and goings and daily life in each others corners of the Island.
Sadly, Irma had also tragically lost a sister years ago and so we talked of the
mysteries of life and death and the impact of such life changing events...
The wind, the clouds, the quietness upon that little mountain that afternoon
made for one of those rare days that stays with you forever

I later found out that this area is in the process of being protected as a nature preserve and I
imagine all of the little nest boxes we saw were part of the process but I also
wondered at what impact all that junk from radio towers would have on the
birds, bugs and such who make their home up here...

The search for my great grandmothers old house will be a bit long winded so we'll
save that for another day...for now...enjoy the view...

Song for Friday...lovely

From the first time I saw Lisa Hannigan's video of 'I don't know' in
Dickie Macs pub in Dingle, she had me.
Now she's stolen my heart again with her new cd 'Passenger'.
Right now my favorite song is a lovely ballad called 'Paper House'.

"Oh we walked in a hallowed place back then,
on the edge of Dublin,
on the edge of May and June.
Oh to live in a paper house again,
where we grew by the light of the moon."

Unearthed...

We had been buried under rich forest soil, leaves and moss for many years...

And then on a warm October day, we heard it!

The footsteps and rustling above us...someone was digging us out!

A curious woman who saw the glint of glass in the sun, poking out the side of the creek bank.

She brought us up into the light, wrapped us gently in her jacket and took us home.

We looked a bit rough after all this time.

Some of us dating back to the 1930's...

Rain and snow and mud covered our shine and kept us hidden from view.

Dirt became embedded in our creases...

Then she stood us all up in a line to get a good look at us...

Maybe we look a bit rough now, but back in the day!...Oh we were bright!

And important!

Placed high up on shelves, we had purpose!

Coloured liquids filled us up, medicine, perfume, food and whiskey!

We had special tasks...each and everyone of us, until one by one, we were emptied,

tossed into the dump and eventually plowed over the banks of the creek.

Long forgotten, some of us broken beyond repair and recognition.

Until this fine Monday afternoon, when Lady Luck smiled on us and brought us back to life!

Cleaned us up with warm soapy water, man! did it feel good!

Now we sit gleaming in the sun with new life...

Even one of our little corks was saved...

Re purposed once again, even if it's just for show...

Just knowing that somebody out there cares!

What a day!

On Sundays....

Today is Monday and the traffic on my road is back to it's weekly routine...the school bus

rumbles by, commuters make their way into the village and the city, service vehicles driving

to and fro. There's the distant sound of machinery and the general sounds of 

a work day begin in earnest.

I don't usually walk Griffin along this road during the week, it being a bit busy with

no safe shoulder .

But Sunday....glorious Sunday morning!!

 I can feel at ease strolling right down the middle of the road and all is quiet...

We've had some fairly good frosty mornings and this early time of day shows

off the magic before the warmth takes it all away...

This time of year, people around here burn yard debris which has piled up all summer.

Forest fire season has passed so it's safe to have big bonfires during these cool crisp days.

The lingering smoke,  along with an atmospheric condition called an 'inversion',

plays with the cool fog and the rising sun and is music to my eyes...

It's this quiet time of morning when most are still in bed, lazy with their Sunday morning dreams

when I love to get out. I can hear the birds...see things before the rest of the world wakes up...

This turkey vulture quietly scanning the road for a morning snack.

And when I went back after the sun was up, he was still there, patiently keeping a vigil

on some deer remains left behind by a hunter...

As each minute went by, the light changed again and again.

Places where I had stood 10 minutes before in the dusky grey morning, were transformed

into warm, bursts of sunrise...

A bush where I had walked past, was now adorned with silky bits of web, hidden before in the dark...

Tom and I were supposed to go into the woodlot to cut firewood but at 5:45 a.m, the old

work truck thought better of that and didn't want to start.

So there I was, making lemonade from lemons, enjoying the peace, thinking

of my sister...her and Steve would have celebrated 18 years of marriage this weekend.

It's a time of day that I relish.

I collect my thoughts, remember dreams, think of great things to create and generally

solve all of the problems of the world...

Maybe next Sunday the truck will be in a better mood with a new starter and we'll see 

what's beyond the logging road gates.

I remembered a beautiful spot on the river up this road many years ago before 

they locked up all public access. Now only for a short time, they allow you in

to gather wood, leftovers from logging. For $20 you can go in for about 7 hours

and gather and cut what you can fit in your truck.

Stay tuned, but in the meantime, enjoy the quiet...