Dim Sum Mum - Tess' Little Pieces

Update on us & Fintry forest fire

Hop on over to Charles' blog for the latest news and a short video clip of Sela and Carys. [Castanet.com File photo: Jason Henderson (Ok fires 2003)]

all is well

"are you calling to report a forest fire?" the voice over the telephone said.

"no, i am wondering if we are being emergency evacuated" i replied

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since saturday evening, smoke replaced rain as the clouds causing us most concern. we have had perfect weather since our arrival to canada, and the kids have been perfect. we had a great week with penny, doug, karen, grant and lita. and now, saturday night, there was a report of a fire. in westbank. the glenrosa area. (at left, map of the fire in relation to our fintry location prior to evacuation on july 23)

it didn't really affect us, although we did feel guilty. and received many wonderful phone calls from concerned friends.

and then, we heard rumours of another, closer fire.

by tuesday night, ash was drifting down and we knew this fire was spreading. there was little in the news about it due to the fact it wasn't in a populated area. the focus was still on the glenrosa fire. the skies were cloudy and you could smell smoke in the air. we started packing. small bags. (at left, map of the fire in relation to our fintry location the morning after evacuation on july 24)

Maureen in the news...

and wednesday morning we were placed on evacuation alert. and the kids learned for the first time that there were forest fires nearby. they were concerned and wanted to leave RIGHTTHENTHATMINUTE but we convinced them we would leave in plenty of time. last night as the sun was a red bloody globe in the sky and smoke and haze and ash and char floated down sebastian observed, "this looks like hell does." i did a lot of remining the kids of jeremiah and God's promise to us that He has a plan for us, a plan NOT to harm us, but a plan that we should grow. repeated that one a lot.

i talked to my dad and we agreed that we should pack up the car that night. so we did. and last night i slept downstairs in case emergency services came by. the kids slept with me. no ess. but at 9.50am, we got the alert. and in 15 minutes, we were on the road.

i had to leave behind a lot of stuff. carseats, even. we did not drive incredibly safely to vernon, but i was so proud of the kids. they were so impressive.

the fire, after five days, is only 20 per cent contained and has burned up over 4000 hectares. there was some rain today, but not enough to make a difference. there is smoke in vernon, and we are safe and we are so grateful. (left, terrace mountain fire on july 22 from Kelly Hayes - Castanet)

i cannot say enough for the salvation army and how welcome they and the other volunteers in vernon made us feel. the SA had free tim hortons donuts and they were offering them so generously along with CHEETOS that the kids must have thought they came into town for a party. almost.

i found us hotel rooms, and we are here for the next couple of days. we can;t stay in limbo forever, the kids will get bored very soon of hotel life. who knows what we will do. be grateful for our safety, that's for sure. my dad was brilliant.

night. i am exhausted but can't sleep. just woke up from a dream where someone was hurting the kids. going to channel surf.

zàijiàn bìng qiě xia xia

goodbye and thank you.

charles gave the keys for 6a back to the government today. i haven't been back in the flat since last wednesday. i didn't know my last walk out the door would be my last walk out the door...it just was. there was no lingering look over my shoulder, no rub of my hand on the door frame, no walk from room to room remembering the last time these rooms were empty.

no there was none of that.

i love 4d already. i love the people in it and i love the possibilities. i love being able to stand at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and watch my kids racing around on the playground. i love the separate bedrooms. i have cosy little reading areas already.

and reading is how i found 122 pokfulam road in the first place.

i was sitting, miserably unpregnant in our flat on seymour road (which we loved) and looking through the papers when a teeny advert caught my eye in the rental section. FOR LET - GOV'T QTRS, 2450 sq ft, PKLM. $22,000 and then the realtors number.

well, there was a time when the words PKFM were as far out of town for us as say, CHINA. pokfulam? that was a good 10 minutes out of central! living there? no thank you!

but, the space! the price! i called the realtor, made an appointment, and called charles.

we found 122 pokfulam road, and entered its modest lobby. the realtor started to apologise for it, and then charles and i said, "hey, we're not living in the lobby." i personally don't care what the lobby looks like. don't like paying for upkeep of marble floors.

the flat we saw was 10a. we wanted it. we didn't get it.

but i promised myself, the next 122 flat that came up, we would get.

and then 6a came on the market.

a nice number. we could walk up the stairs if the lifts weren't working, and the buses were so plentiful and convenient.

there were a lot of children in the building, but we still hoped to join that rank, even though my epilepsy had just gotten us turned down for adoption.

i went to toronto to do my ivf, and charles stayed behind. to try to seal the deal on 6a, which was in appalling shape.

and he got it.

one night as he was directing the contractors to paint a wall, i called him on his mobile. i could hear drilling and shouting in the background. i asked him to find a quiet spot. and i read him a poem.
and told him i was pregnant.

6a became part of our history.

the background to the pregnancy pictures (can't say we remembered to take weekly ones).

where we brought sebastian.

where friends came, sat on our balcony, smoked, ate, drank, laughed, and celebrated this wonderful phase we had entered into. infertility had taken so much out of our relationship. and here we were in quite pokfulam, surrounded my green on one side, water on the other, and...neighbours.

paula, mel, andrea, caroline, alice, bonnie, lisa. people i could run to for cups of sugar or cups of tea. people who could answer childrearing or hong kong questions. people with senses of humour and strong shoulders. a community.

the decision to go to alpha, made in our kitchen. the decision that has had the biggest impact on our lives.

fingers peeling paint when i learned xia xia the cat had died.

and then, a second pregnancy. lucy. inside the flat a great deal for this one. sebastian's fingers marking his growth, milk, rice cereal, strained peas, then cheerios caught between the cracks in the hardwood floors. crack goes my heart. darting to catch him before he fell, holding the cats as they climbed up the curtains. lita. mila. de.

babies born. the blur.the weary trudge from the flat every day. the return home. the fear every time the phone rang. 100 days and then their triumphant homecoming. on ashleigh's first birthday party.

the walls flourished. expanded. friends. adam and annie coming over every day, eating lunch. playing together. anjali every wednesday.

standing looking out into the kitchen when charles called to tell me his mum had passed.

those rooms can never be empty to me. they are filled with my days. eight years of my life. quiet contentment, laughter, sorrow, fear, anger, miscommunication, regret, learning, living.

but i can say goodbye because there are rooms to fill. i'm not lot's wife, looking back over her shoulder and refusing to see all the beauty that lies ahead. and live in it.

we are so grateful to still be in our building. it's the people.

at one point i didn't think i would be able to go back into 6a. but i now know i will. as soon as some other family moves in there, it will be theirs. filled with their memories, love, scents and rhythm. i can visit their home, and i have mine waiting for me. 

an endless source of entertainment for our clan right now is the pheasant fish we are housesitting. apparently there are three of them. as he dropped them off none too gently at our home, chad hinted heavily that there would be no hard feelings if the fish didn't survive the summer. he reinforced this by forgetting to bring along their food. i told him he should be so lucky.

when the fish live at the pheasant home their names are carys, sela and jasper. at 4d, their names are adam, ashleigh and ella. the kids are fascinated by them, and are always wanting to feed them the goldfish food we hastily purchased. they like the way the fish gobble the food, and then the pellets escape out of their mouths and the fish have to chase after them and eat them again.

charles and i spend more time than we should looking for the third fish. chad assured me there were three. "out of no where, after days of silence, the third one will appear" he promised. for the life of me, i can't see where this third one might be. charles is the same. we spend at least five minutes a day looking for the little one, and when the kids ask, we just say the missing fish is adam, off at footie camp. they make sounds, "oh, right, adam loves football...." and leave it at that. but where is the fricking fish?

i am busy unloading boxes. and taking surplus stuff that made the first round of cuts but hasn't survived the second round (the talent competition) down to the rubbish bins. the rubbish ladies are delighted. they follow me to the bins.

it is an odd feeling to watch someone lift your dross out of your hands and start physically going through it. you want to apologise, tell them to back off, it is GARBAGE, and watch the fest at all the same time. the other day, i watched the ladies pocket a bunch of my victoria secret thongs (sure dad, i mean flip flops, what did you think i meant?) and today i saw evidence of them wearing them as i took out a pile of jasper's too small undershirts to them.

if one lady lets go of something, her clearly junior colleague will pounce on it. it reminds me of the fish and their food pellets. and like the kids, i am fascinated a bit. but the flat is taking shape, box by box. there is one slighly important box of papers that is missing, but i would't have thrown that out...would i have done?

hats off to my neighbours who have brought us hot cooked dinner (chicken pot pie, i thought of you doug), looked after my kids and encouraged me over these last few days. thank you, thank you thank you. and for the nice emails from you all.

tomorrow is the first of two walkthroughs of the old flat. charles is doing it. i don't have any intention of going back into 6a until it is renovated and new people are living in it. more on that, maybe, later.

boxes boxes everywhere and all the rooms did shrink...

combine the frustration and exhaustion of moving and you get a tess who doesn't particularly have any fond feelings for 6a 122 road right now.

yesterday, i watched my home being dismantled. it wasn't that tough, because there was a goal in sight.

i was horrified. my kids went from watching television in the playroom, to watching television while sitting on a couch, to watching television sitting on a floor, while surrounded in by ribena and peanut butter sandwiches. for the most part, they were excellently behaved.

charles was in the new flat by noon, and was impressed with the progress we had made. we were impressive. got a lot of work done. moved a lot of boxes. my knees were sore, and actually still are, despite the fact that i was wearing running shoes.

there was little room for sentiment for which i am grateful.

there is little room for anything except boxes, at this point.

the aircon in the main bedroom doesn't work, the fans don't work (yet), there is very little storage in the new place compared to the old, but that is okay. this is a good move. i feel it, i know it.

and when i went to bed last night (after a fine chicken makanwala and naan) i wasn't yearning for the familiar shadows. i was ready for the new stage although desparately wishing that the faeries had come during the night and sorted out all the boxes.

kids are happy.

resurfacing

thank you for the feedback on possible books for little seb. really appreciated. it's like a brand new world finding new authors and series...thrilling for both the young man and myself.

yesterday was a frightening day. janne, victor and 3 yr old amalia accompanied my crew to the boat club. it was deserted, we were the only ones in the pool. janne and i started chatting and the boys were of course playing and having fun. i had forgotten armbands and the triplets were pretty much confined to the small pool. janne and i were confined to our chairs. there was much to discuss! the gobi desert marathon, victoria's secret, how in denmark fruit of the loom underwear is considered upmarket, preventing that mantle of "entitlement" some children seem to wear, good nearby runs...very interesting topics, you understand!

the lifeguard came to tell me at 11.30 that he was taking his lunch. i said no problem.

lunch started to sound like pretty good idea to the mummies and our two elder children. i took the orders...how easy - six chicken nuggets and chips, coming up! and the chicken tikka salad. and i walked away to place our order, after asking janne to keep an eye on the kids.

turns out she did more than that. i returned from placing the order, and found sela, blue lipped and sombre, shivering and sitting on my recently vacated deck chair, wrapped in a towel. cuddling her was janne, who, in the 90 seconds i had been absent, was suddenly wet. water streaming from her pigtails. kissing the side of sela's face. sela, who was quiet and a bit dazed.

sela, who almost drowned.

janne apparently saw sela thrashing, going under, and called to her, and when sela didn't respond, but kept going under for longer periods, jumped in and pulled her to the side. saved her.

i didn't make a big deal, i didn't lecture. i didn't tell her how glad i was that she was safe that she had nearly died, that i loved her...i just...played it down. i don't think i managed it well at all. i can't even remember it happening. i just remember thinking, "the shock is over, i have to make it as easy as i can for my child." so i asked her if she was alright, put my hand on janne's leg to say thank you and tell her i love her and cannot express how grateful i am but will try later, and sela falteringly then told me what happened, a little bit, and then went inside to take a shower and get changed. later on i talked to her about not going into the deep end unless she was wearing armbands.

i didn't handle it well. i don't remember it, but i do remember that i didn't do well. or is there a right way to handle it?

so tired of drama. which is why jasper, with his 102 temperature, is not at the doctors, instead he is plastered on to me. he will be better tomorrow. i have faith in this self diagnosis.

faith. it gives me courage to keep going, whether that be running, cleaning, reading, working, parenting, or letting them swim themselves.