The Urban Momtographer

I have to be honest, I’m spoiled now that Abby has school. I’m getting used to my days spent doing things that I want to  I’m enjoying taking photographs, having lunch dates, working as a writer, even going for walks and doing housework are a bit simpler. Still, I miss those days that Abby and I had where we could just go places, the two of us, and learn a bit about the community we live in and the ones surrounding it.

This morning I got up knowing that I was planning on heading out to a friend’s place in Vancouver in the early afternoon, but I really wanted to hit up a favourite coffee stop of mine before leaving. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to take up an offer from a friend on the Coquitlam RCMP to give Abby a tour of the police station here in Coquitlam, and to let her find out a little bit about what policemen and women do.

Abby was thrilled, though she didn’t talk much… I think that it was a lot for her to take in. She got a chance to peak at the lunch room, she saw where the keys for the cars go, she even got to quietly check out dispatch! Then we got to go downstairs in to the underground where she got to sit on a motorcycle…

Abby even  got to sit in the front seat of the police car! She turned on the lights, and the very loud siren, but I plugged my ears for that part. In the trunk of the police car she saw the first aid equipment, cones, and all of the other cool stuff that the police have for helping people. It was something that she’s likely to remember forever, especially the part when she got stickers and tattoos from some school liaisons. Abby was even given a very special Mountie beaver keychain that she’s going to put on her school bag.

Nearly every police station has tours available, and all you need to do is phone or drop by the front desk to find out more about showing your kids around. The Vancouver Police offer tours of their canine unit, as well as their mounted squad unit which might be particularly fun for animal lovers. It gave me some great ideas for other things that we could check out this summer when time is long and kids are bored. I love the idea of exposing Abby to tonnes of different types of places, things and experiences.

The time has come for football. This whole part of winter seems to be dedicated to football, football games, football parties. If you’re looking for something unique and different to bring to your next football party, I’m going to be sharing some great appetizers and old stand-bys for parties, starting with this delicious homemade pesto dip.

You will need:

One medium container of sour cream
1/4 cup basil
4 cloves pulsed garlic
2 tbsp olive oil

Pulse these ingredients in your food processor. Serve with bread or veggies. For an extra special presentation, slice a red or yellow pepper and serve this dip in the pepper.

I’ve mentioned this before, but it bears repeating; I’m a person who spends a lot of time at cafes and coffee shops. I find the ambience of anonymity easy to focus within, like a nice hug of white noise. One of my favourite places is one that I’ve recently found, Caffe Divano in Port Moody, British Columbia. This cafe can be found on Facebook and Twitter, it’s centrally located right by Rocky Point Park for those of us who love to go for an adventurous walk along the Salish Sea. Cafe Divano offers a unique ideal along with their amazing food and coffee in that everything sold here is homemade, in store. They produce amazing baked goods, sandwiches and soups… and I find their coffee divine. Divano serves locally roasted coffee that sees a better percentage of profit to bean farmers than fair trade coffee does. All of these things combine to make Divano one of my regular working haunts.

I was checking out the stream for Divano’s Twitter account when I noticed a really interesting topic being discussed on local radio. It was a matter of “Laptop Hobos”; people who come into cafes and use the WiFi for extended periods of time without making purchases, or alternately who overstay their purchases.

I wanted to talk a bit about this, because I would have thought that Cafe etiquette was all pretty standard common sense stuff. And yet, the more time I spend at coffee shops, the more that I’m finding people lack certain social skills to note what to do and not to do to ensure the enjoyment of all who frequent the cafe

1. Purchases Are Mandatory
Perhaps the most important thing about working, studying or even just hanging out in a cafe is that you NEED to make a purchase. Back in my original coffee shop days in the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, the rule was fairly standard that you spent a minimum of $2 for a stay ranging from an hour to two hours. Signs were posted with this written on them on walls in almost all downtown cafes. And this was, indeed, before WiFi became a pretty standard addiction across the board. When we went to cafes to socialize and meet new people. Now that many establishments offer WiFi, it’s easier to make excuses for just hopping on and sharing the bandwidth. If you plan on using the internet at a coffee shop or restaurant, you need to make a purchase. Most fancy coffees now cost around $5, so I’m comfortable with making a purchase like that and staying for an hour and a half to two hours; however long it takes me to finish my coffee. If I want to stay longer, generally I make a point to purchase either a second latte (I know, bad bad), or a pastry… Something to contribute to the cost of me taking up a table or a spot on the couch.

2. You’re Not Actually The Centre Of The Universe
This seems to be a epidemic in the first world. Entitled people are everywhere, and they;re waiting to find out what the world is going to hand them today. This behaviour ranges from talking about personal issues loudly on a cellular phone for any length of time, conducting business at a high volume, holding your fifteen person meeting in a public space without notice or purchases… Or setting up your outside office as though you owned the joint. When you’re at a coffee shop, keep your manners in check. Conduct your business quietly, without taking up oodles of space. Be courteous to the staff and clean up after yourself where applicable. Always thank your wait-staff where they exist, and remember that a bad day is just an opportunity to challenge yourself in the face of adversity. Being polite doesn’t always come easy to us, but it is nearly always worth the effort.

3. Tip, Tweet, Talk.
One of the strongest ways to help your favourite cafe gain credibility and customers is to tell others about it. If you use Social Media, write a recommendation for them. Tell your friends why you like it, how to get to it, what your favourite food or drink is. When you are at your favourite cafe and one of the staff members goes out of their way to please you, mention it to them or their superior. Fill out a comment card, send an email. If something pleases you, share it with the world. And don’t be too shy to tip your staff, either. Lend yourself to others by being genuine, understanding and patient, and you’ll be well on your way to becoming a favourite regular visitor. Alternately, if you feel that the service was less than at it’s best, do everyone a favour and try and resolve your grievances quietly and without incident. Most of the time, a concerned customer complaint is received a lot better than a public degrading tweet or other unpleasant scene. Give the staff a chance to fix any mistakes they make, and then reflect on how the situation was handled before making any harsh decisions.

And that’s it. I mean, there are things to be said about public behaviour more in depth than that, but for the most part these three basic ideas could mean a lot of awkward confrontations are avoided. The staff don’t want to have to ask you to leave because you’ve been camping out for hours. No one wants to ask you to pipe down when you’re on your phone. No one wants to listen to the intricate issues that you face at work above a normal talking volume. It’s, like I said, mostly common sense.

What kinds of things do you do to make the life of your barista or brewer better? What practices are you employing to make your impact on your favourite place a positive one? I’d love to also hear your suggestions!

I know that I said I’d be reaching out into more exotic territory this year, and I will be. But when I was looking for something to make a new friend of ours for his birthday, I didn’t want to make something sweet because of specific dietary needs. It was in this spirit that I went looking for something that their whole family could snack on and enjoy, and came up with baking powder biscuits. These biscuits could serve as an excellent base biscuit for just about anything: cheesy biscuits or a spicy, jalapeno biscuit. Even plain like I made is great with butter or jam as a light snack.

• 4 and a half cups all-purpose flour
• 2 tbsp baking powder
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 1 cup butter, cubed
• 2 cups milk

In a large bowl, mix baking powder, flour and salt, then butter until crumbly. Next, add the milk. Once well mixed you’ll want to turn it out onto a floured surface and knead until well blended. You’re going to roll them out and then cut rounds (or shapes if desired). Then bake at 350 for about twenty minutes, or until lightly golden brown.

These are amazing, fluffy, delicious and simple!

I’m not a fan of the snow. There’s a reason that I’ve always stayed in Canada’s Hollywood… Suffice to say that the cold and snowy weather that the rest of the country enjoys just isn’t my bag, baby. that being said, it happens here on occasion and there’s not a lot that we can do to avoid it. Just suffer through however long it lasts and try not to fall down/crash our cars/run out of salt.

When they began saying it would snow this week, I was hoping they;d be wrong. When it began snowing on Friday night, I was hoping that it would stay wet. When I woke up to nearly a foot on Saturday morning, well… We went outside to play.

The girl’s got a pretty good arm on her!

But Daddy knows how to get revenge!

I love that she’s covering her head in that shot!

Our bird house:

Then my family made the momma a nice big snowman to look in on her while she’s cooking and cleaning. I requested that he be placed in front of the kitchen window so I could enjoy him.

With a face like this, how could I not love him?

In the end, he was over 6 feet tall. He made me smile everytime I looked out and saw his smiling face.

Here it is with Abby to show the size difference:

Here he is through the window.

On Christmas eve, I made a point to phone people most close to me. I made a couple of long distance calls that I’d been meaning to make for awhile. One of these phone calls was to a friend who I haven’t seen or visited with since EASTER last year because I’m the worst. But I picked up the phone, did my Christmas catchup and was invited to a costume party not too far away in Surrey that would be coming up in the next few weeks of the New Year. I was excited to visit with friends that I’d been apart from, as well as to dress up in costume outside of Halloween. To tell the truth, I’ve never really been to a costume party that was on a random date and the idea seemed really fun.

I had been paid for some work I did with American-only currency. It worked out well for me in that I could pick out a great costume, which was long enough and which will serve me for many Halloweens to come. It was a 40’s style “Army Girl” outfit.

Cute, right? Right.

I ordered it, and waited patiently for it to come. And then when the time started closing in on me, I started getting a bit less patient. But it arrived in due time, two days before the Friday the 13th party that I was quite stoked to go to. Even better, once it arrived, it fit me. I’m not exactly used to things fitting me when I try them on it a store, let alone on a website. I was excited.

I tried it on and asked for opinions. Everyone said it was great.

Annie and I had some kinks to work out, and it almost looked as though she wouldn’t be able to come out with me when the stars aligned to allow us this fun opportunity. So we got in the car and we drove out to Cloverdale. We walked in the house.

No one else was in costume. Not a soul. We were the only two who did it. And, wanting to die… The two of us lasted for hours. We rocked it, supposedly… though I know it was traumatic for both of us.

Life does funny things sometimes. When we take ourselves too seriously, she has a way of delivering some humility to us. The experience was awkward and uncomfortable. It was also a learning experience in how to roll with those punches. To try and laugh it off. To not take myself QUITE so seriously.

I’m still working on it.

If I could take back all the time I have wasted, or will again waste, worrying about what other people think of me… I might have something to show for it.

A few weeks ago, in one of our showings, I was faced with a person who outright told me I was too big. Who pointed out my so-called flaw in front of others. Who made a point to make sure people around me heard her. And my feelings were hurt. Big time. Which led to four hours where I was forced to stand and sell feeling awkward. Unique in a bad way. Too tall, too thick, too much. But there is no changing that, there is no going back on mean words given. There is no erasing the impact.

“Focus instead,” I’m told, “On all of the people who tell you you’re pretty. On the people who think that you’re gorgeous. On the people who see you as small for your size. Focus on all of the good things that they say.”

When I got up that morning, I felt pretty good about the way that I looked. I’ve still got that baby belly bump that will forever remind me of my pregnancy, but it’s something that I’m trying to learn to live with and accept. I had on one of my new sweaters. Purple and black stripes with a belt. I thought that I looked lovely, to be honest. Nicely dressed enough that I was confident I would encourage sales. That was the idea.

And yet, these few words took that away from me, and that’s because I let them. I mean, according to everyone else, I need to be able to brush these things off. I need to get better at having a thick skin. There is no shortage of people telling me about their tactics for dealing with negativity. Obviously I’m still too sensitive.

I didn’t want to wear anything form fitting after that. In fact, I haven’t. I’ve been covering myself with sweaters, while still showing off my legs. Regardless, these are an asset that I utilize at every opportunity. But I’ve spent the entire week with these thoughts rolling around in my head.

“What do you want? What will ultimately make you happy?”
Is it inappropriate for the answer to be a change in my physical structure?
Supposedly it’s emotional. Supposedly it has nothing to do with the way I look, rather how I feel on the inside. If that’s true, if I were to “heal emotionally”… I would be better able to brush off inappropriate statements made directly to me. I wouldn’t want to lay in bed for weeks on end because of something a stranger said.

“Why does it matter what that person thinks of you?”

To this, I have no answer. There is no difference to me between the opinion of a stranger and the opinion of my friends. In fact, the stranger’s opinion hold more weight because it’s objective. Not tainted by what everyone says is a great personality.

And everyone has disputed me when I say this, but I still feel it everyday. If strangers can’t see passed my size… if they can’t see the beauty that I hold… If all I’m worth is what I look like, and it’s bad enough for strangers to attack me in public… Why do I bother? Why do I dress up, or wear makeup? Why do I even go out?

I feel like double rainbow guy. Like I’m always asking what it means to live this life instead of really living it. But it just always looks the same. I make “progress” and I still feel this way. Like I’m not moving forward. Like I’m never going to make a change. Like this is all that life has to offer.

I’ve been told for ten years (!!) that I need to see a counsellor. That I need to talk to someone. That hashing it all out might help me see things clearly. And with everything that I am and everything that I have, I don’t want to do it.

N told me yesterday that I could if I wanted to (I don’t). When I voiced my opinion that I think it’s the ultimate exercise in futility, he said I probably feel that way because I’m scared.

Also, that most of the issues I have come from my father. *EYEROLL*

But talking isn’t going to fix that. It’s never going to steam roll over the things that have happened. It’s expensive and it’s going to be stupid. Useless. I already hate it.

Which probably just means that it needs to be done. So pardon me while I go throw up on my shoes.

I swear that i did this same thing last year: I tweet and write about photos I’ve taken where bulbs are beginning to sprout earlier than they should, and then we get a big old dump of winter before I can knock on wood. Twenty Twelve has started out with a bang, and although I live at a fairly high altitude, even lower places still have snow enough to warrant good footwear.

I wanted to share these photographs with you guys that I took early last week. When I wasn’t finishing up some writing work that was due mid week, I was trying to get out in the sun to snap whatever pictures I could find to snap. All which come after will depict snow for a while.

On Monday I went down to my favourite cafe, and I noticed these guys sticking up out of the ground. By Thursday I made a point to head back down to city hall to snap these photographs. I love the depth of field in this first one.

These things were across the street.

As was this bench. I had a good time walking in my boots along the cement to take this shot.

Coquitlam: Salmon

Towards the mall I got some cool effects from the sky.

This photograph was taken on the Guildford side of the RCMP building, just behind the bus stop.

As was this one, only closer to the Johnson side.

I love being able to walk around and think as I take photographs. Some days just inspire me more than others, and it becomes easier for me to find things that translate well onto my camera and here, for you.

Spring is my favourite season, as it represents growth in the world, which often inspires growth within myself. I look forward to the lengthening of the light. The warmth of the sun. The sound of the rain.

I lived in Vancouver my entire young life. East Vancouver, to be exact. And I didn’t really realize until I moved out to the ‘burbs, just how little people understand the culture of being from East Vancouver, or living in East Vancouver. In fact, once out of Vancouver proper (and even some places within Vancouver proper) there is an overwhelming epidemic of people who just don’t understand East Vancouver at all. A majority seem to believe that East Vancouver is synonymous with the DTES. It’s hard to explain and to discuss this without receiving an eye roll or a change of topic… But I gotta get it off my chest.

You guys… The DTES is not East Vancouver. It’s downtown. They border one another, but they’re not the same. The term “East Vancouver” describes a large area of the city map, depicted roughly here:

Closer to the bottom of the map is considered by some to be South Vancouver, but for all intents and purposes, the term “East Vancouver” should be defined as being East of Cambie street and West of Burnaby. East Vancouver is an area that varies from neighbourhood to neighbourhood, and as such can produce vastly different experiences. The area that I lived in, I feel, was a good area with friendly people and a sense of community. Someone who grew up in Champlain Heights might disagree. The thing of it is that, in most places in East Van, people feel reasonably safe. It’s not a giant, drug laden wasteland with constant fights and parties anymore than it can be in the suburbs or on the West side if you wind up with the wrong kind of neighbours.

The Downtown East Side of Vancouver celebrates it’s own sense of community. It’s a hard life that I would never wish on anyone, but behind that there are residents there who are under privileged, mentally ill, and suffering addiction. The Downtown Eastside of Vancouver has a reputation, and with good reason, too. The DTES is roughly represented below:

So you can probably see how, when you tweet about how sad you are for the East Vancouver residents tonight, and that you’ll be saying a prayer for the poor folk in East Van… You’re not really saying what you want to be saying. I just thought that you might like to know.