Photos of Langdale Falls with commentary. Yes, commentary. I'm sorry.

LANGDALE FALLS PHOTOS:

The Falls:



Yes, water is falling in Langdale. Not a very imaginative name, I'm afraid.

Ahah! I got the camera:



He doesn't look very impressed right there, does he?

Slithering around on the rocks:



Don't laugh, but I broke my pedicure on those rocks :-(

I got the camera again and Steve obligingly looked all handsome in front of the falls. He didn't wreck HIS pedicure (ok, I couldn't convince him to come with for one).





This walk took the prize as the New Best Walk Ever for Angel, though she doesn't actually look that enthused in this photo:



She wasn't quite as into standing around on rocks, though.



She looks like a circus dog! Only unhappier.

I took the camera to take a photo of Steve using the rope assist. I love rope assists!



All in all, it was a very nice walk. And wade. And slither. And pedicure-demise!

Slightly out of order, but ok...

Having not quite gotten around to doing the post on the post-wedding brunch and particular and Sunday in general, I'm now about to do a small post on the 'mini-moon' we took in Powell River. So I'm jumping around -- it's my blog!

So.

In a fit of brillliance that could only have been dreamed up by the non-sick, we decided to go camping. Now camping in May isn't necessarily a stupid idea, but camping in May on the Wet Coast while sick as little sick dogs was maybe not the all time brightest move.

That said, it was fine.

The first night was great, even -- Steve's mum and dad got him the birthday present of a night in the Rockwater's 'Tent Suites' which was Monday night. He groused a little back in March, but when we arrived Monday night he was all "ok, this is an AWESOME birthday present!" And it was... I'm not sure why I don't have any photos at my disposal, but I'll find some 'cause it has to be seen to be believed. There was this great walkway through the forest (like the West Coast Trail except more civilized) that led to the tents, each of which was off on its own for privacy. The 'tent' (and I use the word loosely) had its own balcony that looked out on the ocean, complete with loungers. There was a huge bed with a down duvet, a slate tiled shower, heated slate tile floors, and a jaccuzzi tub with jets, bath salts and COLOURS. Yes, the tub was pretty cool. It was a very nice way to wind down our 'wedding weekend'.

Tuesday morning we took our time getting ready. We packed slowly, taking our time looking for my Grandma's earring that I'd been wearing since the wedding. Steve, my hero, found it somewhere that I couldn't see it.

We drove from Halfmoon Bay back to Gibsons to pack the jeep and pick up the dog. We also took a gift certificate we had gotten for Canadian Tire and invested, wisely, in an air mattress with a built-in foot pump. Ahhhhh, bliss! Neither of us had ever camped with an air mattress before and man! was it ever nice.

We booked it to the ferry in Earl's Cove where we discovered that ferries run even less often than they do between Horseshoe Bay and Langdale. We waited and waited, and I found out that I burn in convertables :-(

The dog enjoyed the sun while we were waiting for the ferry, but not so much the wind when we were actually driving.



We found our campsite at Willingdon Beach which is the city campground right in the middle of 'new' Powell River. It is a great campground and we were, as we requested, Right On The Beach. I can only assume that it was because we told them we were honeymooning that they put us right at the edge next to the trees. It was lovely and private except for the stream of people coming right past our tent to walk the Willingdon Beach Trail first thing in the morning.

We rolled in just as the sun was going down and set up camp... with only a little snapping. We borrowed Mike & Laura's massive Tent of Doom (the Funhouse 6, I believe). It had windows and doors and was almost the size of our bedroom. It was quite the eddifice compared to our little nylon backpacking tube. We briefly considered digging it a moat.

Once the tent was up, Steve wandered the whole 10 feet to the beach and took pictures of the sunset.





We found dinner at the local Safeway deli. It was... adequate. Very adequate.



This cedar tree was right beside our campsite. It was very unusual and beautiful -- like a 'weeping cedar'.



And that was the end of Tuesday.

The next morning, Steve went and walked the Willingdon Beach Trail. When in Rome, I guess.

The Willingdon Beach Trail is set up as an outdoor forestry museum and has all sorts of bits of machinery along the side of the trail. Including a boat.









You know, I never even managed to walk this trail, though I'd love to. Someday. When I'm not sick.

The only complaint I have about the WB campground is that the website says free showers... and they aren't. I had to go back for a loonie, and the four minutes purchased by that loonie was simply inadequate. I rinsed in the sink. But I'd go back.

We got underway on Wednesday morning and found the tourist information booth. We left the dog in the jeep in the parking lot.



Angel was eager to get underway, so we left for Lund, which we'd heard was absolutely lovely, and an hour up the road where Highway 101 runs out.

We thought we were going to leave Angel in the jeep while we had a quick lunch at Nancy's, the locally famous bakery. Note the word 'thought' -- while we were walking around the top of the building, we heard a suspicious jingle, much like the one that comes from Angel's dog tags. We called for her, and walked around looking for her, but no little white dog... until we asked a couple coming up the stairs from the restuarant. We asked them if they'd seen her, and they said yes -- the little white dog had rushed into the restaurant and was still there, as far as they knew.

We rushed downstairs into the restaurant and there she was, looking from table to table for us while simultaneously licking every inch of floor. Mmm... floor.

We called her out and tied her up outside. Bad dog! Bad! Actually she was really cute, and we brought out our (justifyable famous) lunch and ate with her.



Then we walked around Lund. It didn't take long. Lund is small and pretty, and perhaps if we'd been more energetic we'd have rented kayaks or taken the Water Taxi over to Savary Island or some other adventure. As it was, we just looked at the waterfront and a very nice art shop under the Lund Hotel.







Then we went home. I mean, back to Powell River. We went and had rather good and cheap chicken wings at a little pub that was right on the edge of Powell Lake. We tied Angel up.



After dinner, we scooted back to the historic part of Powell River in order to join a walking tour that we had been told would leave at 7pm. The guide never showed up, so we self-guided ourselves around according to the brochure. It was quite like old times (I used to be a tour guide).

The old houses were lovely -- old Powell River was a town built, and planned, by the Pulp Mill for its employees. Somewhat surprisingly, they did a fantastic job and the little old town is really quite wonderful. Except, perhaps, for its view of... the pulp mill.

We cruised around deciding which house(s) we'd like to buy... property in Powell River is relatively inexpensive, and Powell River itself is a very nice town, but it really does feel much more isolated than Gibsons.

But look at the houses!













We settled on this as the house to buy:



Or this one:



They were built for management -- typical, huh?

There were three churches in a block, but two were no longer churches. We then decided that it would be amazing to live in a church.







We got back to the campsite and Steve went down to the beach to photograph the sunset. There was also this crane -- I mean HERON -- which we had seen briefly the night before. He really liked the little bit of beach beside the tent and every so often I'd look up to see Steve stalking the crane. I mean heron.





Sometimes he was more sucessful than others.



And it was the end of Wednesday.

Thursday Steve tried to get me to walk the trail with him. It didn't work.



By this time we were feeling significantly better, so we decided to try a little hike. And by little, we mean very small. Tiny. We hiked up 'Mount Valentine' which is such an easy hike that they even give you stairs. We reached the top pretty easily and enjoyed lunch and views that were amazing.





There was a big bug and some very ambitious ants, so we left and wandered around the top of the hill, which was exquisite. The area was developed for Mill employees to have a picnic and recreation spot, so there were lovely steps and stone benches, as well as some newer picnic tables. Did I mention there were stairs to the top? Nice.







This is new Powell River. It is wonderfully far from old Powell River.



We went down and looked at 'The Hulks', which is a man-made breakwater for the Mill's logs.









They are beautiful and shockingly ugly at the same time.

We went to the Cranberry Pottery and bought souveniers, since apparently this is The Place To Buy Souveniers. Actually, their stuff is lovely. I really liked some neat... well, I thought they were ginger jars, but apparently they were urns for ashes. And they came made to order! Ew.

Then it was off to try out the new jeep: I found some logging roads in the hopes of getting it into fourwheel drive. Steve napped. The worst potholes I'd just about ever seen, and Steve... slept. Like a baby.

We -- ok, I -- found a beautiful lake, which I woke Steve up for.



There was also a quarry which was used for stone for the logging roads.


By this time Steve was mostly awake, so I celebrated by driving through a big puddle.

We went back home and had icecream from Dairy Queen. Ahhh, Dairy Queen.

Steve took more sunset pictures and stalked the crane some more. Um... heron. We shared our (fitfully burning) fire with a very nice couple from Edmonton who were tenting, like us. You know, there were tons of people there in campers and the only really friendly ones showed up in a tent. Coincidence? I think not.

And that was Thursday.

Friday we went home to Gibsons, and ate yummy breakfast while waiting, again, for the ferry. This guy ran the snack shack and was friendly.



He offered that we could go pet his horse and miniature mules (yes, miniature mules). They were all very friendly and cute and dirty, and we pet them and fed them grass, which they appreciated for just long enough for someone else to come by and bring them grass.

The shack-guy also said that to stop wasps from coming into the house, hang up a bag full of water just outside the door. He swore by it, though I have yet to try it out. While we were there, tons of locals came by and chatted about all kinds of stuff. It felt very comfortably rural.

In short, we enjoyed Powell River very much. It never actually rained on us (though we put the top on the jeep for precautionary purposes), we did in fact get better rather than sicker, we read books and lounged and napped on our air mattress and generally had exactly the downtime we needed after the civilized chaos of the wedding.

Our ceremony, in entirety. Yes, it was a long 'un.

WEDDING CEREMONY OF STEVE & LORIEN

What greater thing is there for two people than to feel that they are joined together? They share with each other all gladness, comfort each other in all sorrow, strengthen each other in all labour and are one with each other in silent contemplation and in mountaintop exultation.

This love – as we call it – is a most marvelous thing: it cannot be found by looking for it or by passionately wishing for it. It is a divine accident, and the most wonderful of all things in life.

Steve & Lorien, you have found this kind of love. We are here today to share with you your celebration of that love and witness your commitment to joining your lives together.

My name is Helen *** and as a Marriage Commissioner I am authorized by the province to solemnize this marriage. It is a privilege for me to be here today.

Marriage in the eyes of the law is a binding contract, a voluntary union between two people to the exclusion of all others. It is a very serious commitment and should not be entered into lightly or irresponsibly, but reverently and with serious understanding and appreciation of what is involved.

Clay Hepburn reads:

"Falling in Love is Like Owning a Dog" by Taylor Mali

First of all, it's a big responsibility,
especially in a city like D.C.
So think long and hard before deciding on love.
On the other hand, love gives you a sense of security:
when you're walking down the street late at night
and you have a leash on love
ain't no one going to mess with you.
Because crooks and muggers think love is unpredictable.
Who knows what love could do in its own defense?

On cold winter nights, love is warm.
It lies between you and lives and breaths
and makes funny noises.
Love wakes you up all hours of the night with its needs.
It needs to be fed so it will grow and stay healthy.

Love doesn't like being left alone for long.
But come home and love is always happy to see you.
It may break a few things accidentally in its passion for life,
but you can never be mad at love for long.

Is love good all the time? No! No!
Love can be bad. Bad, love, bad! Very bad love.

Love makes messes.
Love leaves you little surprises here and there.
Love needs lots of cleaning up after.
Sometimes you just want to get love fixed.
Sometimes you want to roll up a piece of newspaper
and swat love on the nose,
not so much to cause pain,
just to let love know Don't you ever do that again!

Sometimes love just wants to go for a nice long walk.
Because love loves exercise.
It runs you around the block and leaves you panting.
It pulls you in several different directions at once,
or winds around and around you
until you're all wound up and can't move.

But love makes you meet people wherever you go.
People who have nothing in common but love
stop and talk to each other on the street.

Throw things away and love will bring them back,
again, and again, and again.
But most of all, love needs love, lots of it.
And in return, love loves you and never stops.

Steve and Lorien, this day marks the beginning of a new chapter in your lives – a day when you each will be making a solemn commitment to go forward together as husband and wife, sharing whatever the future may hold for you.

Steve and Lorien have asked me to read from a medieval Persian poet, Rumi. This is his ode 2667, “This Marriage” translated by Kabir Helminski

May these vows and this marriage be blessed.
May it be sweet milk,
this marriage, like wine and halvah.
May this marriage offer fruit and shade
like the date palm.
May this marriage be full of laughter,
our every day a day in paradise.
May this marriage be a sign of compassion,
a seal of happiness here and hereafter.
May this marriage have a fair face and a good name,
an omen as welcome
as the moon in a clear blue sky.
I am out of words to describe
how spirit mingles in this marriage.

Before Steve & Lorien make their vows, I must ask if any person can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in marriage. Let them now declare their reasons or else from this time forward keep their peace.

And I must ask you both in the presence of these witnesses, that if either of you know of any legal reason why you should not be married, you do now reveal the same.

GROOM: I solemnly swear that I do not know of any lawful reason why I, Stephen Patrick Quattrocchi, may not be joined in marriage to Lorien Islay Heather Dunnett Wallace.

BRIDE: I solemnly swear that I do not know of any lawful reason why I, Lorien Islay Heather Dunnett Wallace, may not be joined in marriage to Stephen Patrick Quattrocchi.

There having been no reason declared, I will ask you to answer these questions:

Do you, Steve, promise to give Lorien
all the love of your heart,
your wit and your wisdom;
to be her star and compass,
her faithful champion,
her husband and her best friend?

Answer: I Do.

Do you, Lorien, promise to give Steve
all the love of your heart,
your wit and your wisdom;
to be his star and compass,
his faithful champion,
his wife and his best friend?

Answer: I Do.

Susann Richter reads:

"Union" by Robert Fulghum

You have known each other for years, through the first glance of acquaintance to this moment of commitment. At some moment, you decided to marry.

From that moment of yes to this moment of yes, indeed, you have been making promises and agreements in an informal way. All those conversations that were held riding in a car or over a meal or during long walks - all those sentences that began with “When we’re married” and continued with “I will" and "you will" and "we will” - those late night talks that included “someday” and “somehow” and “maybe” - and all those promises that are unspoken matters of the heart. Just two people working out what they want, what they believe, what they hope for each other.

All these common things, and more, are the real process of a wedding. The symbolic vows that you are about to make are a way of saying to one another, “You know all those things we’ve promised and hoped and dreamed - well, I meant it all, every word.”

Look at one another and remember this moment in time. Before this moment you have been many things to one another - acquaintance, friend, companion, lover, dancing partner, and even teacher, for you have learned much from one another in these last few years. You have learned that good company and friendship count for more than wealth, good looks or position. And you’ve learned that marriage is a maze into which we wander – a maze that is best got through with a great companion.

Now you shall say a few words that take you across a threshold of life, and things will never quite be the same between you. For after these vows, you shall say to the world, this - is my husband, this - is my wife.

The vows through which you accept each other as husband and wife have no hidden power within themselves, but only to the extent they express your intention and commitment do they have meaning.

Jody Garnett reads:

Pavanne for the Nursery

Now touch the air softly, step gently, one, two...
I'll love you 'til roses are robin's egg blue;
I'll love you 'til gravel is eaten for bread,
And lemons are orange, and lavender's red.

Now touch the air softly, swing gently the broom.
I'll love you 'til windows are all of a room;
And the table is laid, And the table is bare,
And the ceiling reposes on bottomless air.

I'll love you 'til heaven rips the stars from his coat,
And the moon rows away in a glass-bottomed boat;
And Orion steps down like a river below,
And earth is ablaze, and oceans aglow.

So touch the air softly, and swing the broom high.
We will dust the grey mountains, and sweep the blue sky:
And I'll love you as long as the furrow the plough,
As however is ever, and ever is now.

I will ask you now to join hands and face each other as you say your vows.

STEVE: (repeat after me)

I, Steve, take you, Lorien, to be my wedded wife,
To have and to hold from this day forward,
For better and for worse,
For richer and for poorer,
In sickness and in health,
In rainforest and in boreal,
To love and to cherish
‘Till death do us part;
This is my solemn vow.

LORIEN: (repeat after me)

I, Lorien, take you, Steve, to be my wedded husband,
To have and to hold from this day forward,
For better and for worse,
For richer and for poorer,
In sickness and in health,
In rainforest and in boreal,
To love and to cherish
‘Till death do us part;
This is my solemn vow.

Your vows, once said, are as much a part of you as your breath, your blood and your passion for each other. Even though the words themselves are dispersed to the breeze, look always to your rings as the pure and powerful symbol of these promises.

Here are more words from Rumi:

I am here, this moment, inside the beauty,
the gift God has given,
our love:
this gold and circular sign
means we are free of any duty:
out of eternity
I turn my face to you, and into
eternity:
we have been in
love that long.

STEVE: Please place the ring on the third finger of Lorien's left hand and repeat after me:

You are my best beloved and my best friend. I give you this ring as a complete and perfect symbol of my love for you.

LORIEN: Please place the ring on the third finger of Steve's left hand and repeat after me:

You are my best beloved and my best friend. I give you this ring as a complete and perfect symbol of my love for you.

Jeff Boothroyd reads:

“Valentine” by Carol Ann Duffy

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.

Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

Marriage is a serious business, as well as a joyful one. In your lives together, just as in your lives individually, there will be moments of profound bliss, as well as those moments of deepest sorrow. Whatever comes, you will weather it together.

A marriage is a lifelong adventure, made most splendid by being shared.

May the love that has brought you together continue to grow and enrich your lives.

May you always respect this love, remembering it is not a possession but a special gift. It should serve as a source of common energy in which you find the strength to live your lives with courage. From this day onward you have the opportunity to come closer together than ever before, and at the same time, your love can give you the strength to stand apart, to seek out your own unique destinies, to make your own special contribution to the world. The most important thing to remember as you venture through life, together and individually, is to always be each others best and truest friend.

And since you, Steve, and you, Lorien, have joined yourselves in marriage, and have signified your commitment to each other by the making of vows and the giving and receiving of rings, I now pronounce you to be Husband and Wife.

Begin your marriage with a kiss.

SIGNING of the REGISTER

Oh wait! I forgot to mention the FIRE!

Yes, the FIRE!

After dinner sometime, one of the (carefully stamped) paper napkins in front of Steve drifted over one of the tealights on the table. Since paper + flame = FIRE! the expected happened.

There was Steve, with a flaming napkin almost in his lap, and all I could think was "I am NOT going to have my brand-new shiny husband burned to bits in front of me." After our West Coast Trail debacle, who can blame me?

Very calmly (at least I think it was calmly), I stood up and dumped my glass of Pellegrino on the fire. That seemed to put it out, which is good, because my next glass to dump would have been Laura's red wine. I guess I would rather have had him stained than injured!

I don't think anyone got a photo of it, unfortunately. I'm not even sure anyone other than myself, Steve, Alex and Fi even saw what happened.

In the end, Steve was a little dampish, and I had to brush some grey ash from his sleeve, but otherwise unhurt/scorched.

I guess it's funny now, eh?