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Home, Vancouver

Motorcycles

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My brother and I played around with motorcycles when we in Marpole in our younger days. One winter I sent time in the basement carefully sanding and painting an old Indian. (never ran, ended up as parts).

Before I got my license I bought a Lightweight two-stroke. It was mainly an of-road bike but I couldn’t resist driving it. As luck would have it I took it out on the road one day just as a cop car was passing. Naturally I took off. The cops chased me down the next street. Half way down I spotted a vacant lot and tried to zip through. I ended  up in the alley leading up to the house. The cops had already figured out my plan and as I hit the alley they had already turned into it and stopped me. I explained as best I could. They just laughed at me, took me up the driveway and home telling me ‘Don’t be so stupid next time.” No charges, no tickets-Phew!

A few years later a friend bought a Vincent Black Shadow. (Beautiful  bike, impressive name) He invited me to come with him while he tried it out. We drifted down Oak Street to the new highway to the George Massey tunnel. We  took off (this is where I learned that if you’re sitting behind somebody running a fast bike you hold on with all your might. Arms around his torso) We passed everybody ahead and , of course, the cops spotted us and gave chase. My driver cranked it. We were going 110 mph when around a corner he spotted an off ramp. We went up it and perched on the cross bridge as the cops, sirens and lights going passed under us. Phew! Back home on a different quieter route.

Still love bikes. But am surprised that the guys I knew that owned and ran the damn things are still alive. Talking about you Mr. Aaron Thom. Took me for a ride on his hot bike out along the highway to the west coast. Nice and quiet. He opened up and we took off. Came upon some cars to pass. I’ll never forget the look on the faces of the people we passed as Aaron rode by at speed with the bike only on the back wheel!

 

cats, Home

Letter to Mom-1999

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Ed the Cat-1997

Ed just came back from the vet. He walked through the door with a mean look on his face. His tail is twitching and he’s looking for someone to beat up. It’s a sunny day so we’ll soon see him in the garden stalking birds. Fortunately, he’s not as fast as he used to be and catches very few. He and Rose are still good mousers, though, and keep the space around the house pretty clean. Some years are bad mouse years and this is where all the fussing and feeding of cats is worth it. The only mice that get in the house are ones the cats bring in live, drop them on the floor and, after playing with them a while, perhaps look away for a minute and forget all about them. Then we have a scared live mouse hiding under the chesterfield.

 

Actually one of these ‘immigrants’ discovered the bird food and managed to survive for quite a while. The bird food is in one of those plastic storage things with the sealing top and the mouse fell right in. When feeding the birds, we just dip a cup into the seeds and spread it on the feeder. The mouse, although his horizons were somewhat limited, was in heaven and was only discovered when it was time to get new seed. We released him to the great outdoors and I can only imagine how this chubby little rodent survived when he was forced to find his own food.