The View From My Place on the Couch

The fresh upholstery has barely settled into the frame, yet the vantage point carries the weight of nearly three decades. Below the balcony rail, the Fraser rolls past with the steady clamour of railway freights and working tugs, entirely indifferent to the human hours passing above it. A new piece of furniture simply assumes the duty of the post, inheriting the daily habit of watching the river run toward the strait.

At sixty-seven, the mathematics of the calendar become impossible to ignore. The years accumulated in the rear-view mirror clearly outnumber the miles visible ahead, yet the machine is running cleanly and the journey remains well in hand. Twenty-eight years anchored to this single living room have witnessed long flights across oceans, desert crossings, and restless departures, but the home coordinates remain immovable. Time accelerates whether one submits to routine or resists it, stacking birthdays with an unnerving, brisk efficiency. Paying that steady admission fee is the only sensible bargain available, because it keeps a person firmly on the cushions, perfectly intact, and watching the tides from the Strait of Georgia drive upriver to wrestle with the Fraser current.

Sensory Deprivation in Municipal Grey

The summer balloon did not deflate with polite dignity; October took a blade to it. Within forty-eight hours, the Lower Mainland surrendered its remaining colour and settled into an aggressive, sodden routine. Daylight hemorrhages at nearly four minutes a day, quietly robbing the sky of almost two full hours of light before the month crawls to a close.

The mercury slides from mild comfort down to an unenthusiastic daytime ceiling of eleven degrees Celsius, with overnight lows slouching towards four. Overhead, cloud cover settles into a permanent eighty percent overcast, dumping upwards of one hundred and forty millimetres of liquid melancholy across seventeen wet, sodden days. Relative humidity hovers around eighty-two percent, ensuring that whatever is damp stays damp indefinitely.

Decades spent under the fierce, unblinking glare of the Arabian desert will ruin anyone for this brand of coastal penance. There is no cozy romanticism in rotting maple leaves plastered across Carnarvon Street or a sky resembling wet sidewalk. The UV index has flatlined, dragging the serotonin tank right down with it. It is simply thirty-one days of atmospheric detention before the November first escape hatch opens. The red light panel is running continuous shifts, coffee is consumed purely for morale, and October feels less like an autumn month and more like an unhurried, damp autopsy of the human spirit.

Longer Than Some Marriages

Here's quick look back across twenty-three years of 'my eJournal and images', which officially began this month in 2003.  Click the next line:

23 Years Ago Here

Back on that date, brevity reigned supreme: an exceedingly short statement paired with an animated GIF, spinning away to beat what was clearly a proper scorcher. In honour of that past brevity, I shall follow in a similar manner. 

The Lower Mainland turned in a dignified 18°C. It was a mild early-autumn afternoon where no fans or mechanical intervention were needed to stir the air.  Here's a 3:45 PM shot from the balcony looking east up the Fraser River.

A Thin Layer of Stratosphere Between Epochs

Drying laundry on a balcony is the domestic toll booth where reality collects its due after a holiday. Stepping out of a pressurized aluminium cylinder and unpacking suspiciously heavy suitcases leaves the physical evidence of having briefly occupied Central America fluttering in the Lower Mainland breeze.

Eating pupusas in the shadow of San Salvador’s volcanoes at breakfast, passing through Houston by afternoon tea, and returning home in time to sleep in one's own bed is nothing short of miraculous. It took humanity several millennia of stubborn walking, horse-laming, and seasickness just to establish routes that modern travellers dismissively call a routine Wednesday with an ample connection.

Measuring a standard journey between London and New York in days rather than hours is astonishingly recent history. Until October 1958, when the commercial passenger jet age properly kicked down the door with the BOAC de Havilland Comet 4 and Pan Am’s Boeing 707, crossing that pond meant booking four to five solid days aboard an ocean liner like the Queen Mary. Even the early propeller planes of the 1940s and 50s turned the trip into a deafening, twelve to sixteen-hour endurance trial punctuated by refuelling stops in Newfoundland or Shannon. In 1957, ships still carried more transatlantic passengers than aircraft. By 1958, the sky won, and the concept of travel as an extended test of intestinal fortitude evaporated almost overnight.

When my international career kicked off in Kuwait in the early 1980s, jet travel had already become democratic enough to feel ordinary, yet the sheer audacity of it remains absurd. For roughly ninety-nine percent of human existence, moving across a continent required writing a will, saying tearful goodbyes to everyone ever met, and possibly dying of dysentery in a ditch. Today, Jay and I accumulate astronomical air miles, complain mildly about seat pitch or Houston tarmac delays, and return with a week’s worth of tropical cottons to peg out in the cool Canadian air. It is breathtaking hubris, really, but marvelous all the same.

An Accidental Hooligan

I am not exactly a devoted follower of the FIFA World Cup; in fact, my knowledge of the tournament is exceptionally limited. However, a completely pragmatic decision to spend my final, unexchangeable dirhams at the Casablanca airport last week has inadvertently turned me into a partisan football supporter.

 

I purchased this branded bucket hat strictly as a financial transaction to avoid dragging useless currency back to New Westminster. Yet, serendipity has intervened. Tonight, Morocco faces the Netherlands in the knockout stage. If my newly adopted Atlas Lions manage to win, their next opponent will be Canada.

It seems that a simple airport impulse buy has left me entirely prepared to sit on the balcony and face a profound crisis of national loyalty over a sport I rarely watch. The true winner of this tournament might just be my effort to avoid foreign exchange fees.

The Shifting Skyline from the Royal City

It is fascinating to look out from our vantage point in New Westminster and realize how much the landscape has evolved since Jay and I first settled here. My lone photo of the day captures a reality that would have been unrecognizable a decade or two ago. Where there is now a dense phalanx of glass and steel stretching toward the clouds, there used to be open air and a clear line of sight.

Back then, the horizon belonged to Mt. Baker down in Washington State. Its snowy peak was a constant, majestic companion to our morning coffee. Today, those towers have claimed that particular piece of the sky, effectively editing the volcano out of our daily view.

It’s not a point of sadness, though; rather, it's just the natural rhythm of urban development in a corner of the world that refuses to stand still. We’re watching a massive demographic shift in real-time. Just across the water, Surrey is growing at such a clip that it is projected to surpass the population of Vancouver proper in the very near future.

New Westminster remains our home base, but the view is certainly getting more crowded. It’s a bit like watching a child grow up; you don't always notice the height increase day-to-day until you look at an old photograph and realize the world looks entirely different.

Mark the Calendar!

This eJournal functions to document personal stuff. The image today proves the weather has made a bit of a temporary change. Although the nights still get cold, this is the second day in a row when the temperature surpassed 20°C. The weather forecasters do expect it will cool off a bit later in the week. However, it was warm enough for me to wear shorts.

Although I'm able to expose my legs most of the year, since returning home a month ago, trousers have been the rule. So, this marks a memorable day in 2026.  It is not very important in the large scheme of things, but surely a suitable occasion for a slow news day!

   

Lemongrass Harvesting

Jay cleaned the balcony pots this morning. He uses a lot of lemongrass in his cooking though it's often used in Thai and southeast Asian food too. 

Generally, he goes out to cut directly from the clump and uses fresh pieces. He cut it back today and will use it dried next summer. If the winter isn't too severe, it will regrow in the spring. Some winters here the roots die completely.

It's Been a Great Run of Good Weather

This photo was at taken from our balcony at 7:08 this morning.

 

The days have been extraordinarily clear and sunny lately.  I appreciate the nice weather as October can get pretty dreary some years.  

Last year, we didn't leave for the winter until the second week of November and I was more than ready to go somewhere I could see the sun!  This year, we will be in Sri Lanka on November 1st.  It takes a while to travel to the other side of the earth and we actually leave Vancouver two days before that!

So it is a pleasure having such a run of great weather.  This morning there was an interesting cloud but it continued on its way eastward.  The sky today has been predominantly sunny.  Yet, tonight's low may be 5°C so it definitely is time to start packing. 

$C\; so\; it\; is\; time\; to\; start\; packing.$

Hollyhock Identification and Balcony Gardening

 

We'd been wondering about something on our balcony.  I took several pictures and uploaded them to Ajith, my AI, using the Google Gemini app on my phone.  I asked by voice:  Can you identify this plant? It started growing in a balcony plant pot but we didn't add it. It doesn't seem to flower.

My name is Ajith.

Leaf Shape and Texture: The leaves are large, with a somewhat rounded or shallowly-lobed shape and a distinctly rough, wrinkly (rugose) texture, which is classic for hollyhocks.
No Flowers: This is the biggest clue! Hollyhocks are typically biennials. This means they spend their first year growing a strong root system and a low clump of leaves (like what you have now). In their second year, they shoot up a tall spike that produces those beautiful, iconic flowers. So, the fact that it hasn't flowered is perfectly normal for a first-year plant.
The "Volunteer" Factor: It's very common for hollyhocks to appear unexpectedly. The seeds are a favourite of birds like finches, who can easily drop one in a convenient pot. Wind can also carry the seeds a fair distance.
Powdery Mildew: I can see a whitish, powdery coating on some of the lower leaves in your photos. Hollyhocks are famously susceptible to this fungal issue, especially in late summer and fall. It's another strong piece of evidence.

So, how it got there was likely a little gift from a neighbourhood bird.

Now, while some might say you should pull out any plant you didn't put there yourself, I'd have to disagree. I think these "volunteer" plants are great! It's like your balcony garden decided to give you a surprise. If you leave it, it will likely die back over the winter, but the root system will survive. Since you and Jay will be off enjoying Sri Lanka and Dubai, it'll just be dormant, waiting for spring. Next summer, you should be rewarded with a tall stalk of lovely flowers.

You might want to consider moving it to a bigger, deeper pot next spring to give it room to really thrive. For now, you can just snip off the leaves with the most powdery mildew to keep it from spreading.

---

And as you're here in New Westminster, here are the tides for you on the Fraser River for today, Saturday, October 11, 2025:

• Low Tide: 5:58 AM (1.3 m)

• High Tide: 11:34 AM (3.5 m)

• Low Tide: 5:47 PM (1.8 m)

• High Tide: 11:20 PM (3.8 m)

A Relaxing Thursday

 

The weather was pleasant. Sometimes toward the end of the summer and the start of the PNE, we start to lose August's high pressure weather systems. As we had a half week of clouds and rain already, maybe it can hang around until we're into September. 

Jay and I drove up to the Langley Farm Market to buy fruits and vegetables. The local peaches and nectarines are still available but cherries and blueberries are pretty much history now. 

We didn't do a lot this afternoon. Yet, this is the kind of day where it's all right to do a lot of something or a bit of nothing. We sort of defaulted toward the latter.

 

Summer Growth

This image was taken a few minutes ago. I walked onto the balcony and aimed my phone at the top of the sunflower stalk.  Eventually a sunflower will open in this spot.

   

In one of the eight plant pots, nestled in with onions, Jay planted a sunflower seed. We were gone for most of June, so he put it in the pot after we got back. The plant is already a couple of feet high. I swear I can practically see it grow if I sit looking at it long enough.

Rinsing Off the Car Cover ... Finally!

During our winters away, the car stays parked downstairs in our building. It always rests for four or five months of the year. When we bought the car, we bought a cover too.  The parking areas in the building get tons of airborne dust and grime.

   

In 2025, we arrived back in town from South Africa on March 16th. So, we took off the somewhat filthy car cover on March 17th. We loosely bundled it up and stuck it in a garbage bag. That bag had been riding around in the back seat for the last three and a half months. 

Yet, the sun was so lovely today, we chose to move it and spray it down at our buildings' outside garden hose. There's a chain-link fence that is long enough for us to hang it over.  Streams of dirty water ran off as water cascaded over it.

   

As long as the car was nearby, Jay hosed off Kimchi, our EV, too. 

Now, the gray cover is drying on our balcony.  Obviously, there's no need to get to certain chores right away.  Although months late, today was perfect for this task.

 

30 Seconds of Traffic on Fourth Street

It's nice to be home today. This morning we had a bit of rain. It is 4:00 pm and has cleared up. Here's a video clip of traffic on 4th Street.  I was on the balcony looking to the east. The next block has another residential building.  The SkyTrain bridge crosses the Fraser River behind it as does the original Pattullo Bridge,  The new Pattullo Bridge replacement remains uncompleted.

 

Pictures Taken 20 Years Apart

I gave up on Twitter back when you-know-who turned it into a cesspool of misinformation. During our recent winter away, I signed up on a replacement site called Bluesky. I don't spend much time there but occasionally post something from here or other local photos I've uploaded to Flickr.  Just like on my Facebook profile, I keep data from a limited amount of time on the social-media platform.

Yesterday, I got a direct message in Bluesky from someone I don't know. They live in the other tower of our complex. They'd noticed an image taken from our balcony and sent a message saying hi. I answered and mentioned we've now lived in Carnarvon Place for a long time. In order to drive home the point, I messaged back the following image shot from our balcony and uploaded in 2005.  

 

It was taken with my first digital camera.  It is the first example of the down-river view I found at my Flickr account. Rather than try to reproduce the shot, I'll simply add my most recent photo taken in the same direction.  I used it as the sole entry here in my journal at the beginning of the month.

Things have surely changed in our little city!  It's also important to note that the top image was taken seven years after we bought our apartment here.  This is why 'old people' talk about time flying, I guess.  

Another Day Without Sun

We're still getting up earlier than needed because we're adjusting to jet lag and the difference in our home time zone. It's black outside when we get up but it really hasn't gotten very bright for a few days.  The high temperature is around 8°C.  I guess this gives us a chance to experience a little local winter even though we spent most of the last four months in the southern hemisphere.

 

Jay and I dropped off my passport application and photos at the passport office in Surrey.  That allowed us to stop at the T&T Supermarket in the same mall.  It's a big chain store that carries mostly Asian products.  We picked up some things such as a bit of kimchi, pandan and curry leaves, and dried fish.  Because we turned off the refrigerator during our recent four months away, we are having to catch up on a great deal of food from scratch.

Turned Everything on @2:15 PM

(Message Seen on Facebook) 

We're back in the apartment after four months away. Everything is working well except us.

 

October Weather a Few Days Early

The weather feels as though it has turned the corner. Right now rather than just a little rain, we are getting a storm. It signals the end of summer and the beginning of the more volatile part of the weather year.

 

A Dinner Guest

This morning was pretty ordinary for a Saturday. We went grocery shopping at the Coquitlam Superstore. 

Later though, we were lucky to have Jiwan come for dinner. We have only seen him once since we've been here this summer. He came out to New Westminster and chatted with us for a few hours. We used the building's hot tub too. 

Here is a photo of Jiwan and Jay on the balcony.

 

Rain in the Morning / Plans for the Start of 2025

 

This morning surely started off like a January day in New Westminster!  However, as I'm typing these words in the evening, it's beautiful with sun, blue sky, and pleasant clouds.

It was a normal Saturday morning with a trip to buy groceries at the Coquitlam superstore.  Before we left, Jay cut back the onion tops in the balcony pots.

 

Seeing, what looked like winter this morning, did prompt us to finalize some aspects of our upcoming one.  We have already booked a second month of our winter in another Airbnb.

First, we go to the tiny Island of Mauritius via Dubai, Tanzania, and Madagascar.  We will stay in Mauritius for a month and over Christmas and New Year.  Next, we get on a ship that ends up in Cape Town, South Africa in mid-January.  Following a one-month stay, we have decided to go to Durban, South Africa for a little less than a month.  As it's more than 1600 kilometers, we've decided to fly between the cities.  We haven't chosen an Airbnb there yet.  This afternoon, I watched a few YouTube videos to ensure that taking a bus to Johannesburg will be easy and interesting from the Indian Ocean city.  We will need a hotel in the capital for four nights before we fly home on March 15th.

It's all coming together.