A Lovely Kamel
Friday, May 01, 2026
 | | Camellia japonica 'Silver Wings' - 1 May 2026 |
One of the
advantages of living in this century is our ability to instantly find the
etymology of words. Some might say that knowing facts is not
having knowledge. I would differ by saying that the association of a fact with
personal experience becomes some sort of knowledge.
My mother and grandmother were born in the
Philippines. Today I scanned this recently purchased Camellia japonica ‘Silver
Wings’ for big coin. The flowers are 5 inches wide. I decided to look up
the origin of the word camellia.
The word camellia originates from the Latinized
surname of Georg Joseph Kamel (latinized as Camellus), a 17th-century Moravian
Jesuit botanist and missionary. Botanist Carl Linnaeus named the genus in 1753
to honor Kamel’s work documenting plants in the Philippines, though the plant
is native to East Asia. Wikipedia
So now I have this interesting association between the
camellias that my Rosemary loved and my Filipino mother and grandmother whom
Rosemary met in the late 60s and early 70s.
A fact that I happen to know about Linnaeus is that he
named the sexual parts of clams for those of human women. I won’t explain further. A further etymology of the Spanish word camellón which is the centre part that divides a two-way highway is that it indeed comes from the camel. Since the highway ridge is higher it mimics the camel's hump. Spanish for camel is camello.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
Wednesday, April 29, 2026
 | | Rosemary & Niño - 22 March 2020 |
One of the
strangest New Years Rosemary and I ever had was around 1987 at Gary Taylor's
Rock Room on Hornby Street.The entertainer that evening was Roy Forbes (then
known simply as Bim). I was astonished that at midnight he took out a paper
from his shirt pocket which had the lyrics of Auld Lang Syne which he obviously
did not know. After finishing he sprayed Rosemary and I (we were, unluckily, in
the front) with an entire bottle of Möet & Chandon. But the strangest part
of the evening were three very young Polish sailors who kept smiling at me. I
told Rosemary that I felt uncomfortable and that we should go home. As we were
leaving the sailors caught us on our way out and told us in a terrible broken
English that I was the spitting image of Roman Polanski. They asked for my
address. For years we received Christmas cards from them.
Should auld
acquaintance be forgot,
and never
brought to mind?
Should auld
acquaintance be forgot,
and auld
lang syne? – Robert Burns
These lyrics
have been in my mind as they contain that troublesome word acquaintance.
In Spanish
the word is conocido (a person
known). For me I have friends and then people I know who I call acquaintances.
In this 21st
century and in this year I can write here that most of the people I ever knew
are dead or have disappeared. In my mind most of the time now is what Harold
Bloom wrote in his book How to Read and Why (2000):
"We
read not only because we cannot know enough people, but because friendship is so
vulnerable, so likely to diminish or disappear, overcome by space,time,
imperfect sympathies, and all the sorrows of familial and passional life."
Since my
Rosemary died on December 9, 2020 I have not found anybody I can confide my
inquietudes (a fine Spanish word for existential concerns). I would tell her
that many of the people I call on the phone have a synthetic woman asking, “What
is your name and the purpose of your call”. I answer, “I am Alex and I am his
friend.” I am then told to hold while she(it) will see if the person is
available. She(it) will invariably return to tell me that the person is not available.
To add
further to what happened after my Rosemary died I can say that to my
granddaughters I am not a grandfather but a useless old man.
My family, a
family that showers me with warmth and cuddling attention are my cats Niño and
Niña. Both are 15 years old and I suspect that Niño may die in the next two
months.
Because of
my advanced age I am not interested in meeting up with a woman. The only one I
want is dead.
Is it too
late for me to make new friends? In the atmosphere of the times I believe that
is not possible. I will have to persist with my past memories of the friends
and family I had.
The First and the Last
Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Top: Mocambo Veracruz -20 December 1967 Bottom - Vancouver 31 July 2020
Remembrance of Plants Past
Monday, April 27, 2026
.jpg) | | Echinacea purpurea 'Green Jewel' - 16 July 2021 | Green EchinaceasToday I
spent big coin buying plants at Phoenix Perennials in Richmond. This nursery
had the biggest variety of unusual plants. I go once a year. What is my goal?
My Kitsilano
garden is one that I shared with my Rosemary. Every year some of her favourite
plants may disappear. Thus my objective is to find what I call her plants. I
found most of them except Echinacea
purpurea ‘Green Jewel’. Only a snob like my Rosemary would like a green
flower.
 | | 26 April 2026 |
I was going
to plant them on Monday but I put on my garden jeans and managed to put them
all in the ground and then spread sea soil and steer manure. I then watered and
placed all the plastic pots in the blue bins for tomorrow’s pick up.
 | | 26 April 2026 |
A while ago
I decided to test my Galaxy phone in low light and took some photographs of my
effort. I am happy.
 | | 26 April 2026 |
That Bookish Artist
Sunday, April 26, 2026
The word in
Spanish to retire (jubilar) has its root from the Latin jubilare which means to shout for joy
in relation for the ceasing of work responsibilities.
I remember
going to retirement ceremonies when I worked for Canadian Pacific Limited. Old
men were given rocking chairs, watches and told to read their wives’ job jars
in the kitchen. I told Rosemary that these assignments depressed me. She would
say, “Alex, you have to go. We need the money.”
Since late
in my life I now think I may be an artist I keep taking photographs, scanning
my plants and try to find people who have yet to let go. My friend Ian McGuffie
calls the Gulf Islands where many of my photography peers move, “God’s Waiting
Room.”
I am happy
to report that Canada’s first Poet Laureate George Bowering (90) published a
book of poetry at the end of May and will publish a memoir in a month, George Bowering
And there is
someone who lives in Salt Spring on the Gulf Islands who has not given up to
rest on her bookish laurels. This is Celia Duthie who has had a show at 884
East Georgia since this last Thursday and will close today Sunday her
exhibition of lovely wood blocks and linocuts.
I went twice
and I particularly gorged on her son’s bread. He has a stupendous bakery in
Salt Spring.
Duthie’s art
is influenced by her mentor/teacher Richard Tetrault. Because the gallery is in
Tetrault’s home you can also enjoy his art which is stellar and which he makes
every day.
The show
closes today at 5.
|