My Aunt Jane and Uncle Jack met us at the terminal and welcomed us to their home in Qualicum Beach. Their house was newly built in the open plan style with an American kitchen. Aunt Jane has exquisite interior design skills and every corner had a treat for the senses .A Lalique vase held a bunch of lilac roses and a perfect Persian rug from their home in England took pride of place in their dining room. I had always been very close to them and was looking forward to our visit. I knew there were lots to experience on Vancouver Island.
Qualicum Beach is on the Nanaimo lowlands which lie between the Georgia Basin and Vancouver Islands Ranges to the south. It was established in 1943 as a village and had grown to a town of 8000 people since then. The beautiful beach and stunning scenery means that it is a popular tourist resort in the summer. In the surrounding countryside there are black-tailed deer, Roosevelt elk, black bear, cougars and racoons.
Jane and Jack are very active retirees and by 7.30 am each day they were dressed and ready for the next adventure. We went hiking in the mountains, to tai chi lessons, played golf and ate at some wonderful restaurants.
On the last day of our time with them we had a drive to Victoria, the capital of Vancouver Island. The British Columbia Parliament buildings are located there and the baroque architecture is breath taking. Government house is located next to the botanical gardens and we had a tour of both places we had a really fun time with them and it was hard to say farewell
Qualicum Beach extract from the Lotus Generation by Carole McCall
The Tears and The Lotus Generation ” A warm and witty feel good read.”
Dusk has settled all around me in my writer’s eeyrie then I realise that I have been sitting at my desk without moving for hours.To the left of me is my Fathers birthday present carefully wrapped with matching tissue paper and blue ribbon.Tears are falling because the news from my brother’s phone call is not good. Saturday will be Father’s last birthday party.
The hurt in my chest squeezes my heart and all I want is my darling mother and she has been in heaven for twenty five years.
On the other side of my desk is my new book The Lotus Generation just described by a reviewer as “A warm and witty feel good read”. That sounds about right to me but there is no room in this heart today for cheer.
I have to pick up the cake in the morning and drive 300 miles north to see the family. To see tiny babies,toddlers and their parents who I once carried in my arms.
I look around and see balloons and party favours packed in boxes. 90 years old today is written on everything and I need to be brave and make this party the best party he has ever had.Love and laughter will carry us through but my books,my life and my heart will never be the same again
Dulce de Grosellas: Summer in a Jar
I love making jam…
I don’t remember having currants – red, black, or otherwise – growing up, so I was surprised to find them in one of the older Cuban cookbooks I’d been using, Delicias de las Mesa by Maria Antonieta Reyes Gavalán. Written in the 1920s, I came across it at the University of Miami’s Cuban Heritage Collection. While most other Cuban cookbooks date from the mid-fifties when everyone was only too happy to embrace cans and convenience, Gavalán’s book captures an earlier time, referencing ingredients and techniques that had fallen out of use but worth reconsidering. The book itself was so worn and frayed that it couldn’t be scanned or photocopied, so I spent most of my time in the archives furiously taking notes before reluctantly giving it back. It was complete coincidence when my aunt Marta called from New Orleans to tell me her friend had given her a copy of the book that I could…
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Wandering the Old Streets of Lisbon
I love Pasteis de Nata and Vinho Verde. Brings back happy memories of when family holidays…
I have a confession to make.
I went to Lisbon last week – for a whole week – and I did absolutely nothing.
Well, that’s not strictly true. I ate what seemed like huge numbers of pastéis de nata (custard tarts to you and me) and equally large amounts of grilled sardine. I discovered a taste for the local vinho verde, or green wine. I read three books that had been patiently waiting on my bookshelf for almost six months, and I baked my sun-starved skin on the riverfront every afternoon along with most of the rest of the city. I went to bed late, and got up late, and I danced on the balcony to the reggae that pumped out every evening from the tiny bar downstairs. I didn’t even look at a guide book, or any Lisbon blogs or websites, and the attractions I did see were pretty much…
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Letters from Madagascar: Fort Dauphin; An Introduction
I have always wanted to visit Madagascar…
Fort Dauphin is an island in the far South East of Madagascar. It is located on a peninsula (the French word is presqu’île, which is one degree closer to an island than a peninsula) which juts into the Indian Ocean. So, no matter where I am in the city, I can see the ocean. I am always a ten minute walk, at most, from a beach. The water is beautiful, turquoise, and clear. It is also incredibly powerful, and one has to be careful when they swim. I have never seen waves as large as the ones I have seen along beaches in and around Fort Dauphin. They are beautiful, from a distance.
September is the windy month in Fort Dauphin, so for the most part it has been beautifully cool and extremely windy here. As the end of September approaches, it is beginning to warm up, and the days…
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A Delicious Feast in France ……… extract from The Lotus Generation by Carole McCall
Sleeping is no mean art: for its sake one must stay awake all day.
Frederick Nietzsche
We passed the afternoon reading and snoozing and I could definitely hear a rousing game of boules going on in the far distance. Finally it was time for supper and we all filed expectantly into the dining room after we heard the loud gong.
A huge antique mirror decorated the far wall and then reflected the candelabra and the fragrant lilac sweet peas sitting in a white jug. The table was enormous and matched the stunning armoire that dominated the room.
Supper was a delight for all the senses. Hors d’oeuvres including cold cuts, devilled eggs and paté decorated the table. There was a velvety leek and potato soup to follow. The star of the show was a huge Cassoulet filled with duck, goose and pork sausage in a delicious sauce and made in a deep, round earthenware pot. There was a salad and lots of crisp French bread bought fresh that evening as is the French tradition. Flagons of the local Bordeaux wine were enjoyed by all.
We all moved onto the terrace to congratulate our hosts for the day that had made such a fine start to our elegant gustatory plan. Petit fours and coffee were passed around and we enjoyed a game of lively scrabble until bed time.
The next morning I woke early and watched the swallows swooping at the eaves of the house just above my head. I looked out of the window to see my children laughing as they whizzed up and down the swimming pool. They are all excellent and able swimmers, it seemed the years of taking them to swimming lessons had really paid off.
A thought occurred to me. It seems a mother is only truly content in her heart when all her children are safe and well under herroof and the sound of them laughing and enjoying each other’s company rings through the air. It does not happen very often but when it does a sublime feeling pierces your heart…………
A Lobster in New York Extract from The Lotus Generation by Carole Mccall
We met at the airport and the flight was on time. I had always had a problem with long haul flights as I just could not sleep but I had enough books to keep me occupied for the whole journey.
As with all famous places, from the cinema and television, New York seemed very familiar on the ride from the airport to Times Square. We checked into the hotel and there were two queen sized beds in the room which was on the 52nd floor.
I had taken care of my niece Claire, when she was very small, when my sister had gone back to work. The result of those early years was that we were still very close.
However that darling little girl with the curls and the beautiful green eyes had been superseded by a very business-like management consultant. When she looked at the two beds she said very firmly “Well, you two will just have to share a bed!” And neither her mother nor her aunt was prepared to disagree.
The first restaurant that we came to on our evening walk was a lobster and steak restaurant. We peered into the brightly lit window and it seemed very cheery and full of bonhomie so we went inside. Our blonde waiter showed us to our table with just a scintilla of distain and two minutes later reappeared with a paper bib which he tied round my sister’s neck.
He then went to tie one round my niece’s neck. She put her hand out like a traffic policeman and said in her most formal received pronunciation “Do not even think about it, young man”. She was all of twenty five years old.
He just shrugged and I just meekly allowed him to tie a paper bib around my neck with a word of complaint.
I had eaten lobster before, particularly in San Francisco and this specimen was a very poor relation but we all smiled and paid the bill without comment remembering to leave the right percentage tip. We got back to our bedroom which was distinctly chilly as it was very cold outside…….
Extract from The Lotus Generation by Carole Mccall
Carole McCall Author and Coach 