Lucia Frangione

Today I noticed the activity of birds. A crow dive bombed a raven who took residence in our large fir. The raven ducked with indifference. An eagle circled above our heads as we headed out to Eaglecliff beach. He did not find what he was looking for, he must have something special in mind. I hope it is not my cat. As soon as he left, a gull took the tide and skimmed the water for shellfish. I have started to look up again. Like I did when I was a child. How many air squabbles have I been oblivious…

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There is a boy on the bus, maybe seventeen, who looks so much like the late Jeremy Tow I can’t stop staring at him. And then I turn away and tear up and then I stare at him again. He’s got a blonde fawn wobbling her legs at him and batting her black mascara eyelashes all Avril Lavigne but with more west Vancouver privilege and one less tick. He’s got the kind geeky sidekick with glasses; loyal to the end but secretly wishes he’d attract the blonde. Doesn’t have a chance. The Jer look-a-like has sun glasses on and is…

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“Oh right, wedding invitations!” We are attempting a small reception: a few family members and the friends who helped us renovate or actively welcomed me or my fellow into the circle. To our delight many far flung relatives have called us up to say they’d like to come. It warms my heart to have that show of support. We started out with a thought to elope – except my Mom would never forgive me. So then it was us and the Moms and it didn’t seem right to not have the siblings and and and – I keep bumping into…

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It doesn’t seem to matter who it is: as soon as the hammers and drills come out, so do odd bursts of falsetto Aerosmith, Journey and Rush. Do I ever hear Fellow sing? In church, yes. But he’s a regular Old Time Rockin’ roller with Zac, laying those floors. Beer cans, uncharacteristic over usage of expletives, laughter and the occasional bashing of one’s head (Zac is young, he does this). I wonder at their physical strength and endurance and ability to build things. They finish up yet another twelve hour day. And they look up with a grateful grin when…

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My daughter’s talent show at school: long legged girls wobble on spindly limbs, and their arms dangle helplessly as they concentrate on their dance steps with a frown. Then they catch themselves and remember to smile: they beam like sunflowers, a large head on a long skinny stalk. Adorable. The girls are generally taller than the boys at this age. Their male counterparts are Hobbits: short squat and thickening up in preparation for the massive pubescent growth spurt they are about to experience. They are all so cute, especially because they are awkward. Boys stumble over their feet and girls…

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Today was the last day of filming and I got to walk around San Francisco: through parks and down streets with lovely shops. Yesterday I bought some cobalt blue and off white Fluevogs for my wedding shoes. They were absolutely gorgeous but not necessarily something I’d wear again. And when I got home and did the currency conversation, I could not justify the purchase so returned them. It was difficult for me to do this. It was sad handing back the beautiful box in the beautiful bag. The shoes were tucked into their little snug box like two nestled twin…

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“You’re a BIG woman…” Says an intoxicated man in a Giant’s shirt, swinging on the rail in front of me, dangerously close. “You’re more than a handful.” I look around. Not many people on the Muni this afternoon and the ones who are, are not making eye contact with me. I am alone and I have four stops to go. Giant tried to pick a fight with the small man beside me and he scooted away two stops before. The Giant is looking to swing. He has blood on his teeth. Literally. He’s in that place between talking loudly and…

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It’s 6:30am and I’ve already been at the airport for an hour and a half. Surprisingly the Canucks restaurant “breakfast sandwich” is very good. I’m off to do a film shoot in San Francisco: super fun. There are going to be zombies! “Why are zombies fun?” I ask myself. Not sure. But they are. Speaking of strange death and un-death, I’m missing a very important callback in Vancouver for something I passionately love. I sent a little pleading note, assuring them I am very interested…but let’s face it. I’m not there. And there’s a lot of great women who are….

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At many Vancouver gatherings, members are greeted with a welcome and an acknowledgment that the city sits on Coast Salish traditional land: unceded territory of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh First Nations. I find it respectful and a good reminder. Dan says it every morning at church. But before our children’s show the other day, our host said something along the lines of “We’d like to acknowledge that the city is on the unceded land of the – Sawlish…native…I can never remember this stuff.” And moved on. Backstage we were a bit aghast and chuckled, “yeah, basically all you red…

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