Erin's Journals

Welcome in! Thanks for all of the great comments on that salad blog on Friday. I’m making it again tomorrow for a couple from our Rotary chapter who are coming over. At least I’ve had practice!
 
Hope you had a terrific weekend – our smoke had cleared here from where we overlook the Haro Strait and a few US islands, and we were grateful to have our views back. But the smoke returned yesterday, so here we are again. The new normal here for BC summers, it seems. Kind of like flooding in downtown Toronto, too. 
 
Speaking of summer, I made a small boo-boo last week (and thanks to the reader who pointed it out): there aren’t three weeks until Labour Day, but two! I’m not sure why a careful check of the calendar didn’t make this more clear to me, but I’m going to guess it’s one of two reasons: I didn’t expect Labour Day to come so early this year or I’m not counting down to the long weekend the way I used to. But clearly, I’m over it!
 
A few quick thoughts about fast food here today. And then I will tell you a story of something so truly bizarre that happened to me in one of these places very recently. A costly error, even though it was free…
 
First off, I’m happy to hear that Tim Hortons is finally FINALLY going to look at changing their ridiculously leaky lids with raised ones like just about every other fast food joint has already adopted. There’s a great conversation from Global TV (linked below) about the company’s plummet in consumer trust and rankings; cost of the lid change is said to be minimal, but what’s it going to take to win back customers? Can it be done? An awful lot of comments on social media seem to point to people saying they’ve already moved over to McDonald’s coffee, among others. 
 
Speaking of the house that Ronald built…. On our recent road trip we were always looking for a place that had clean and reliable washrooms; for that reason, we stopped in at a McDonald’s in California one afternoon.
 
I made our lunch order at one of their automated kiosks and then stood and waited. Five minutes passed. I sat at a table. Another five minutes ticked away. As we eyed the clock and became anxious to resume our long day’s drive, I went to the counter and showed a worker my time-stamped slip. I said I’d ordered 13 minutes earlier and wondered what was happening. (There were no special requirements to my Filet-o-Fish; Rob’s sandwich was an ordinary menu item, too.)
 
She told me it was being processed just that minute and would be brought to our table shortly. And it was. But it prompted me to wonder how the restaurant that practically invented fast food had managed to slow it down so drastically? There needs to be some improvement there.
 
Then we come to A&W. I’m hearing anecdotally of people going to the stores to get the Beyond Meat veggie burger that they’re advertising so heavily, only to find that they’re back ordered for weeks, or that it was a limited-time offer. I sure hope that, somewhere, A&W is rethinking how long these should be available.
 
They seem to have captured lightning in a bottle; I hear that they’re delish. Hope I get to give one a try, some Meatless Monday. Or any day, if they’re that good and aren’t stupid high in calories like those of Licks, back in the day. Harvey’s has one that’s delicious, but their outlets are few and far between out here. Heck, there’s only one Swiss Chalet in Victoria and it’s tired, to put it kindly. 
 
Now to my bizarre tale of takeout. Before I left CHFI, I was sent a lovely and generous gift card from our favourite root beer outlet. Not being regular fast food customers, it sat unused for a very long time. Finally about a month ago, I thought I’d treat guests to something we never have, but what wouldn’t cost me: fried chicken. I remembered Chubby Chicken and thought that I’d order that.
 
I called ahead to our local A&W and told them I wanted 12 pieces of chicken. The lady who took the call was very friendly and asked if I meant the chicken sandwiches. “No,” I replied, “just the chicken. On the bone. You still do Chubby Chicken, right?” (I was starting to wonder if it was still on the menu; it occurred to me that maybe I hadn’t seen it on their order boards the times we’d gone in to get coffee on our drives. Sidenote: A&W sells really good coffee.) She replied in the affirmative and told me it would be ready when I got there.
 
Imagine my surprise when, after a ten minute wait at the counter, she presented me with our onion rings, fries, root beers and…12 chicken patties. No buns, no lettuce (after all, I’d specified not the chicken sandwich, please) just…chicken patties. And those 12 came to $48. 
 
I couldn’t bring myself to tell the same smiling woman I’d talked with on the phone that we’d somehow gotten our wires crossed; perhaps it was that she just didn’t have any idea that the stores once sold buckets of chicken. The fact that I wasn’t paying for these patties out of my own pocket also made me just suck it up. And I have a feeling the folks to whom I was taking dinner had leftovers for chicken parm sandwiches for days!
 
Okay, now that I’ve made you hungry, I’ll sign off for today and invite you back tomorrow for some truly heartwarming news. And here’s that link to Global about the Timmies lids.
 

Before we get to today’s journal…
 
August 16th: a date on which both the Queen of Soul and the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll left this world. There have been millions of words written about Aretha Franklin, who passed yesterday of pancreatic cancer at age 76, and all I will add to them is this: in an age of female singers who equate volume with power or passion, her voice rose above them all. She used her glorious gift to raise us up, to make us feel and to marvel at the sheer perfection of her instrument and talent.
 
There will be always be powerful voices, but none more so than that of Aretha Franklin. Like that of Elvis Presley, who died in 1977, her music will live on; like The King, her first name will always be a genuflection and prayer of thanks to the gods of music. May she rest in peace.
 
—–
 
So, I don’t want to be that person – you’ve heard the Back to School ads on the radio already, I’m sure – but, yes, there are two weeks left before Labour Day. Two glorious weeks. And it wasn’t until this past week that we stopped into a neighbourhood Tim Hortons and got our first iced cappuccino of the year. We used to start the season with one and then we knew summer was finally underway. So it was about time. What are we all waiting for?
 
I’ve already made my favourite cold cucumber soup (easy to make if you just Google and find a recipe with ingredients you have or a list that you like) but I was ordering a watermelon salad on our trip that made me wonder why on earth I hadn’t pulled out this favourite yet!?!
 

 
As usual, I looked up recipes and, just as I suggested above, found ones that featured elements that I wanted in my salad. What I ended up with was a mixture of different recipes wherein I picked and chose from my favourites. So you’ll forgive me if I ad lib a bit here, but to me (except for baking, of course) that’s the best part of being in the kitchen!
 
First, the ingredients: a pre-packaged mixture of arugula and baby spinach. That was the basis for the salad, served on a big platter, as you see above. I laid out the greens, tearing the spinach into bite-sized pieces. Then I added some tiny rings of a cut and separated green onion. Subtle, but still there. Onto that mixture I spread a thin layer of sliced cucumber: in this case I used six of those little sweet guys you find all packaged under cellophane together, but any thinly sliced English cuke will do, too. Feel free to add some basil leaves if you have them, or even a bit of fresh mint. Whatever floats your boat! 
 
Over this mixture I placed melon balls from half of a watermelon; they’d already been drained and dried off as much as one can with a melon. Easy so far, right?
 
In a small cup, I mixed two tablespoons of olive oil and two tablespoons of fresh lime juice, give or take, depending on your taste. Into this I ground some sea salt and mixed up the dressing. I drizzled it over the greens and melon. 
 
Now comes the fun part: sprinkling about 1/3-1/2 cup of crumbled feta cheese over the whole mixture. So lovely. Then add fresh ground pepper to taste and get set for the “artistic” part.
 
This element comes thanks to Facebook visitors who told me that I’d have had a much easier time with the mini Caprese salad appetizers I blogged about here a few Fridays ago, had I used a thickened balsamic sauce. I found lots of varieties of just that – flavoured with everything from garlic to pomegranate – in the deli section of our local grocery store. In a back and forth zigzag, I drizzled the lovely thick and sweet sauce over my salad creation and voilà! Instant summer on a plate.
 
I hope you’ll give this a try and remember, whatever you choose to put into it is up to you! The arugula/spinach was an idea I’d seen posted and thought it would add an extra element to the salad. If you happen to be going to a gathering and wish to take it, I’d prep the ingredients in advance (especially the watermelon) and assemble it when you arrive. It was very well received and I won’t wait until next summer to make this easy, cool and delicious treat for guests – or just for us – again!
 
Take care and if you have any questions, be sure and email me at the link above. 
 
Ingredients:
 
1 package (I bought a plastic square container) of greens of your choice. Arugula and baby spinach is a nice mix, but not real baby spinach – that’s cruel.
 
Fresh basil leaves and/or mint leaves whatever your garden grows, Ms Contrary.
 
2-3 green onions (optional)
 
Juice of 1/2-to-1 lime. Whatever’s leftover from your last Margarita or gin and tonic binge.
 
2 T Olive Oil
 
Salt & Pepper (fresh ground pepper or why bother?) to taste
 
Watermelon in chunks or balls, as much as you want. I used half of one large melon.
 
Crumbled feta cheese (about 1/2 cup). You can buy it that way in a little shaker (also deli section) or be adventurous and crumble your own!
 
1/4 cup (guessing here) thickened balsamic vinegar. If you can’t find it in a squeeze bottle in your store – check the deli section – you can make your own reduction (Google it) and let it cool before you drizzle it on your creation.
 
Good luck and I know it’ll be GREAT! Just be sure there’s not too much watermelon juice on the plate or it’ll dilute your dressing. Have a lovely weekend and we’ll be back with you here on Monday.
 

Well, this was supposed to be a great family day! But, to paraphrase the old standard, Smoke Gets in Your Skies. 
 
At long last, I’d persuaded my dad to come for a visit here on Vancouver Island. (It’s not that he dislikes travel, or us, for that matter; he is just busy with his gal pal and his activities!) A short direct flight from Kelowna and Dad and his lady were to arrive here today. But – and here’s where some uncharacteristic procrastination comes in handy – we all called off Dad’s trip on Monday night. The reason: air quality.
 
Let me back up. We were hoping my youngest sister would accompany Dad and Dawna on this visit, but she’s slammed at work due to her team members coming up with everything from broken bones to shingles. She couldn’t come. So it was down to D & D, which was just wonderful and then this happened.
 

 
One of the highlights of a visit here to Vancouver Island is the scenery: Rob and I were hooked on the house we chose from the moment we walked into it and saw the view of ocean, mountains and airport (yes, we love airports – is that a surprise?) and Dad felt the same. He sat and followed the activity at YYJ while our transactions were completed and the house inspection took place and, truly, half of the magic of this area has been sandblasted away with the smaze (smoke/haze) that has befallen our island paradise. Here’s our usual view:
 

 

 
The blanket of beige/grey particulate in the air is nothing to complain about when there are people who are fighting for their homes and just to catch a breath these days. Those who live with COPD are finding these conditions really difficult; my sister in Kelowna says that many folks she’s talked to have experienced headaches and fatigue.
 
Here, near Victoria International Airport, our air quality index is moderate, sitting at 5 out of 10, but in the interior of BC, Kelowna is enduring 7s and 8s today, as is our neighbour Vancouver. There are 10+ conditions all around and in gorgeous Whistler, the air quality sits in the 8-9 range. So that’s what’s going on here.
 
Instead of arriving today, Dad and Leslie (unfortunately, Dawna can’t come) will make their way out here late next month – in time for my birthday, which will be nice. And as for the joys of procrastination? My Dad, who is usually at the airport practically the day before a flight (or close to it!), hadn’t even booked this trip. Had he waited until Tuesday to do so, which was his plan, it would have been about $1050 for two.
 
As my wise uncle says, airline tickets are one of the few items whose price goes up the closer it gets to expiration. By booking now and waiting, the flights are literally half that and there was even a 20% seat sale yesterday. So, in our way, the delayed trip has saved them a whack of cash. 
 
Have a gentle day. I’m back tomorrow with a refreshing summer dish I made last week that was a big hit (and unlike the mini Caprese salads I did for appies a while back, I actually made enough)! Here’s to fun in the kitchen.
 
Who the heck have I become?
 

I need to vent about nature and one animal in particular: the common domestic cat.
 
Now, before anyone gets their fur up, Rob and I have had the good fortune to share our home through the years with many cats: Toonces (named for the Driving Cat on Saturday Night Live), Billy, Kitty and George among them. When I was growing up, our sweet grey cat’s name was Pookie. Of these pets – every one of them a rescue – only one was an outdoor cat.
 
George was a gorgeous, fluffy grey male whom we found during a visit to the Humane Society in the early 1990s. What we didn’t know when we brought George home was that he was a cat who loved the great outdoors. He insisted on being a part of it, sundown to sunrise, daily. He would meow loudly and persistently at the back door of our little Ajax house until we relented and let him out, always worried for his safety until he returned for breakfast.
 
Now, nearly 30 years later, I’m finding myself seething over a neighbour’s outdoor cat. He or she is a lovely, fluffy strawberry blond(e), and we’re told by other neighbours that he just kind of showed up and was adopted by the family at the end of the road. He looks so much like Molly that once I stopped the car in the street thinking she’d gotten out of the house after we left! 
 
Unfortunately, we’re seeing way too much of him lately. You see, we have a large tree- and bush-filled backyard. I’ve shared with you my delight at seeing deer (including this beauty and his new antlers)…
 

 
…as well as bunnies, the odd raccoon and oodles of hummingbirds that light every so briefly in the trees. The lovely Steller’s jay is the closest we get out here to the blue jays we used to see in Southern Ontario and once in a while one of these comes to visit.
 

 
But the creatures that I’m most worried for these days are these guys.
 

 
Yes, that’s a quail and lately we’ve been happy to see and hear a male, female and seven of their little chicks just pecking and chip-chip-chipping away as they explore the garden together. You can imagine how I felt yesterday morning when I saw the neighbours’ big fluffy cat sitting in the corner of the yard, watching the little family like a hungry man eyeing a bucket of KFC. 
 
My view was obstructed from where I stood on the deck, but soon the cat disappeared and all I heard was a great cacophany of distressed bird sounds – quail sounds – as the family tried its best to defend itself. I tried clapping and shouting to scare off the predator; it didn’t work. I went inside the house and tried not to think of what was happening in my own backyard. A bloodbath, I imagined. And I tried to keep in mind the mantra that nature is not cruel, but it is indifferent.
 
Later in the day, I was relieved to count the same number of chicks and two more adults. Maybe they were combining families; I’ve no idea. Quails are not known to be extremely smart, but nature has to have built in some kind of survival skills!
 
Just when I was ready to let go of the trauma I’d imagined, I went to get the mail across the street. There on the ground lay a severed wing – bone and all – in mottled greys and browns. It looked pretty clearly to me to be that of an adult quail; possibly one that had died defending its little family.
 
I’m trying not to anthropomorphize too much here, but it’s hard. Babies and parents – whether birds or deer or that terribly sad story of the orca and her three weeks of swimming with her dead calf – touch something primal and nurturing in us all. I realize that some people are unable (as we were in the case of George) or just unwilling to keep their cats inside the house. But would putting a bell on its collar be so much to ask, so that their furry friend could give a bird a fighting – or flighting – chance?
 

I’ll be honest with you: despite the great adventures and some lovely sights, this coastal drive was not what we had expected. Our trip down the coast from San Francisco through Santa Barbara and almost to San Diego six years ago provided more scenic views; this one up through California, into Oregon and eventually Washington State was more shrouded in fog that we would have liked.
 

 
So there’s my travel tip for you: if you plan to do this, fly in to San Francisco and make your way south from there. 
 
I’m not complaining – please don’t think that – just pointing out that our expectations were perhaps unrealistic. There were surprises: we were thrilled to see orcas in California and then even more wildlife roadside. I mean, how often do you see signs warning or advising of animals and you never, ever see them? Not this time!
 

 
Not 500 metres past this billboard, we actually had to stop along the highway for about five minutes while a herd crossed. (Rob shot this after we’d shut off the engine and sat waiting.) 
 

 
The last one was definitely worth the wait – what a handsome young fellow!
 

 
Oregon surprised us, in that there were amazing views of sand dunes. Who knew that some of the best beaches we’ve seen (or almost seen, thanks to fog!) would be in Oregon? That’s a state to which we would definitely return.
 
Despite the fog and mist, we were just grateful not to be affected – as so many thousands are both in the US and Canada – by the virulent wildfires burning again this year. One town in California was just one new house build after another; it was then that I Googled last year’s devastating fires and, sure enough, we were driving through one of the aftermaths. And now to hear that a man set the latest in Holy Jim Canyon; it’s beyond imagination how someone could be that twisted.
 
Our only hardship was one that millions of GTA commuters endure daily: a 90-minute traffic jam in Portland, Oregon. As we watched our GPS tick down to how long we had to get to our ferry in Port Angeles, Washington that night, our stomachs got tighter and tighter.
 
We moved about 20 kilometres in that time and not knowing the cause or when it would end was the most frustrating part of all. I searched online – nothing – and traffic reports are rarely helpful when you’re in a city you don’t know: they tell you when things get better (or where) and you don’t know if that’s 40 minutes or 40 kilometres away!
 
As we sat barely moving, with four hours until we could get to our reserved ferry spot at 8:30, my island pal Nancy texted me that I should call the Coho ferry and ask if they’d hold, even if we got there later than the recommended one hour before sailing. I did so and they couldn’t have been more helpful. We felt as if we’d bought a half hour’s breathing space.
 
As our deadline approached, the drive up through Washington State was one of the loveliest legs of our trip. Top down next to the ocean, we enjoyed sights like these.
 

 
With an immense amount of relief, we made the ferry dock by 8:40, grabbed some takeout from a nearby restaurant and less than an hour later, enjoyed our Korean food on the 90-minute ride back to Victoria. 
 
Home in bed by midnight, it was so good to surprise Molly (already asleep on a bed recently made up by our friends and house sitters Susan and Steve) and we’ve been making up for missed cuddles ever since.
 
So there you go – our California/Oregon/Washington road trip adventures are done. The MINI logged over 3,000 kilometres and didn’t give us a moment’s worry. Still, $1.43 a litre gas and all, it’s good to be home. Suitcases are unpacked, laundry’s done, American money is put away and we’ll just sit tight…until next time! Talk to you here tomorrow.