Polar opposite lives like"A trip to the zoo"

Last night I had dinner with someone who I don't get to see often enough here. She considers our lives to be polar opposites. "Talking to you is like a trip to the zoo" she says, and I know she means that in the nicest possible way but I had to laugh at her ability to find the most interesting use of such an expression.

She grew up in a family of four children where her father was absent and so from a very early age she had to take on a lot of responsibility and that has never stopped in spite of the fact that at heart she is very much someone who needs a lot of space (which she almost never gets) and likes a lot of alone time.

She makes her living at something creative and even when she was off on assignments in Paris or Italy, her family always accompanied her. Those of you who know me know that as the youngest in a family of older people, I have almost never been responsible for anyone but me and I've always really liked it like that.

Ironic was the word of the evening. I've been finding it ironic lately that I've spent the first half of my life wondering why I couldn't have what everyone else takes for granted: husband, children, relationship that works. I often wished, especially in my 30s when life because of my choices was throwing me some pretty heavy duty stuff, that it would all fall into place.

And, now, at a time when so many people who had that are questioning what they've got as their children begin to leave home, I am revelling in my freedom, the freedom I've always had and recognizing that freedom is actually much more a construct of the mind than a physical reality and being with someone who may no longer fit is so much worse than being on one's own.

We clinked glasses last night to acknowledge that last night was the first time in 23years that she has been alone for any extended period of time because her two teen-aged children and her husband are away visiting family. Talk about trip to the zoo. It's a two-way street. I can't even comprehend that. Just thinking about it makes me claustrophobic.

So, now at this time in her life when she is excited to be looking into the immediate future and finally beginning to create some boundaries around her own time and space in a way that she has never done, I am about to embark on a journey that will demand less "me" time and more responsibility for someone else's well being.

It has come out of the blue. It certainly isn't something I would ever envisioned me choosing to do but when I met this woman, I instantly felt that there was something she had to teach me. I felt that doing this would be a very spiritual experience in much the same way that my volunteering at the cardiac wards at St. Paul's in Vancouver was.

I am going to be a companion for an elderly woman four week-nights per week beginning at 9pm and staying in her home overnight and making her breakfast until her main careprovider comes at 8:30 am. She has had a few strokes and although her mind is completely there, her speech and ability to speak has been affected and she pretty much has around the clock care. In exchange, I will have a small suite free of charge to live in.

I'm nervous. I've got trepidation. But, I'm also excited about this. My sense is that until the past couple of years, her life has been rich, diverse and she has been a little powerhouse, fiercely independent, well read and lively. There was just something about the way her sparkly blue eyes examined me during our meeting that made me feel some sort of instant connection to her.

I start Monday night. My friend says I really need to keep a journal or at least write down some thoughts - not on this blog - about the experience. Maybe it will be my very own Tuesdays with Morrie.

Happy Weekend.

Friends and Friends of Friends

It was really nice to see Paul again (has it been more than a year already?) and meet his partner Mark who are visiting overnight. They're staying at Quarrystone House B&B which they say is really nice, each suite having a private entrance and they have a deck and view of the ocean.

They treated me to Auntie Pestos and now that I've eaten there three times, I have to rate it as the best restaurant in Salt Spring. I think something has changed (the chef?) in the past 6 months and it's really good food. I was very relieved because these two travel a lot and Mark is the culinary afficionado so if the food had been Salt Spring standard it wouldn't have been good enough. (I can't get the visual of the lemon sorbet presented in frozen half lemons out of my head. It was so visually appealing (with such a refreshing taste) I should have photographed it.

In fact, Paul is off to San Francisco for a conference shortly and of course it makes sense to mix some leisure into the work so they have a table waiting for them at the iconic Chez Panisse (Alice Waters) in Berkeley. Apparently, another place, French Laundry, is the current it place.

I was thinking afterwards how in my almost 50 years I've rarely met a heterosexual couple who I thought - ya, I want their relationship because it seems so fantastic (although recently I have met Linda and Tom transplanted to Salt Spring from Kamloops and they come close) but generally I almost never think to myself, Oh my god, I wish I had that with that being the kind of connection/lifestyle between people.

I have to say however that I do feel envious of the lifestyle that these two have - excellent (although very demanding) careers, international travel more than a couple times a year and the financial ability to stay in first rate accommodations and eat at the best restaurants. And, to top it off, Paul is one of the nicest and most decent people I've ever met.

Sign me up!

Baseball and Life and Death

Went to the Ganges Cemetary the other night with a few members of the Salt Spring Photography Meet-up Group. I specifically chose that cemetary because I happen to love cemetaries. You never know what you're going to find in them. Take this baseball for example. Did it end up there by accident because someone in the park across the street hit an amazing hit? Did someone place it there intentionally because someone who is in that cemetary loved baseball? (The ball is sitting on top of a structure that has peoples names on it).

Cemetaries are a fantastic place for photography because they force you to really slow down and look. You have to walk around and open your eyes and look.

The first time the group went out I gave them a theme: Texture. It fit really well with the Ruckle Barn. But this time, I didn't want them to have a theme. No theme necessary. To me, that's the thing about photography. The challenge is to wander with only your eyes, your own experience and history, open your heart and observe to find those images that really speak to you because you have to have faith that if an image really speaks to you personally, then there must be something in it that will also resonate with others.

That's what makes Photography interesting and creates excitement on a walk; bringing your surroundings alive when without the camera, you would be less attentive.
Besides there are people, baseball fans, who believe nothing mimicks life (and death) better than the romance associated with the sport of baseball.

Every Day's a Daytime Soap

I think it was a male comedian who said, what is it with these chics who wear these push up bras which make their boobs look like they're being served up on a platter - finger lickin good - and when any guy looks at what's obviously the only appetizer on the menu, these same women glare back at them and spit out, "What are YOU lookin at?"

That was a scene out of my day. I mean, it's pretty casual here on the island and crazy fashion is held up to a new standard but I took one look at this young woman who came into the office today and I felt like saying, Excuse me. Hold on. If you're looking for the pole dancing audition, it's not here.

And, my lovely, diplomatic, beautiful, kind co-worker was tripping over her words as she so carefully tried to approach this young thing and in a round about way ask how she normally dressed when she dropped off resumes or went to interviews.

I, on the other hand, couldn't stand it and couldn't refrain myself because let's face it, if you're that clueless about how to dress for a job, then it's not a big mystery that you're having trouble getting one. Besides, I'd met her the week before already.

So, when the good cop (my co-worker) had finished with her kindness, I just said, "What you're wearing is not appropriate to look for work in. (I refrained from saying, unless you're looking to become a hooker). The sad part is that I don't think she heard it. "It's hot out!" she said in response. Well, then why not just go naked I thought to myself. Why pretend? Just take off all your clothes because honestly, in all my working years, I have rarely seen so little covering breasts in public. The male equivalent would be some guy walking in with only a G-string, and a jean shirt on top.

Then, a few minutes later, an older man comes in. He spent his entire career in the sporting industry with people who are famous and get paid a lot of money and never even have to fly with the rest of us chattel. He had everything done for him because of the nature of the biz he participated in in Europe.

He doesn't need any money. He just needs something to do. But, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't want to ever be a coach again though.

I listened to him and then I said, Have you ever thought of getting a personal coach? He stopped speaking immediately. Apparently he hadn't. But, he was repeating over and over about how much he had the kind of lifestyle that hadn't given him many skills except for those focused on the sport he had specialized in and now he just walks around aimlessly. Do you know what I did this morning, he asked me. I got up. I watched the news. I read my e-mail. I looked at YouTube. (Ya, so did just about everybody with a job I thought). I need a reason to get out of the house, he said. I just need some social interaction.

Well, I said, that's what coaches supposedly do. They can help you set goals. They can get you out of bed. They can keep you on track and be your personal watchdog. They can help you explore possibilities. They make you accountable.

It's easy to think that because he has money that he shouldn't be in this situation but money has nothing to do with it. Imagination on the other hand...? That's another story. It made me wonder what's worse. Is it worse to be homeless and broke or is it actually worse to be financially blessed and have absolutely nothing to do with yourself because you are so stuck or incapable of stepping outside of the construct you have created that you can't see what an amazing opportunity you are being given - the options are endless - because all you can see is your past?

You know that television show, The Office? It ain't got nothing on where I work.

I think I might just start putting on make-up so I can dress up as one of the lead characters in the daytime soap I partake in four days a week. Cut!

Familiarity in a Changing World

There aren`t too many places, I imagine, in the world where time seems to stand still. That`s how it feels for me to go to the Barn at Ruckle Provincial Park.

As I`ve said too many times in the past 9 months, I`ve been coming here for around 20years and nothing has changed it seems to me about that one spot on the island where the original Ruckle Barn still stands.

I can walk around the original farm house and peer inside and the brass head board is still propped up against the wall in the same place near the windows to the south. The pink paint is peeling away from the porch posts. The two board inside the barn are poking outside one of the open windows in the same way I have photographed them from years past.

I`m not sure why but there`s something about standing, looking and feeling that you`ve been in a place before and it`s exactly as it was 20 years prior is for me, more comforting than I ever imagined it would be.

The house I grew up in isn`t here. Some really significant people in my life are not here anymore. The way I used to look isn`t the way I look now. So many people have come and gone and yet when I stand in this one spot on earth on a day like today where the hot mid-day sun turns everything a white-gold, I just feel like I can let go. I am safe. Everything is good. I am light. I am love. I am.

So, in spite of all the disappointments, the endings that have never turned out the way I`d imagined or desired, this one place wraps itself around me and supports my heart and soul better than I could ever do for myself. I feel it at Ghost Ranch. I feel it on this one place on Salt Spring like I have never felt it anywhere I`ve ever been.

Today, was the first Meet-up Photography Group event that I organized and nine people showed up. The assignment was to try and capture the theme of texture.

Sailing Lessons Ain't About Sailing

About a week ago I met this man. Actually, I accosted him in the parking lot of Mobys, a local pub/restaurant, and if it hadn't been for Murray and Kathleen visiting and Murray saying something about wanting to go sailing, I wouldn't have gone up to this guy. But, as luck would have it, I left the pub and walked right by him in the parking lot not more than 15 minutes after Murray's original comment. So, I said what I said and had I not, I wouldn't have gone sailing today.

All that fresh air has made me tired now however so because I'm tired (and tomorrow is market day) I have to keep this short.

His name is Don and he built this 39 foot sailboat about 20 years ago and he told me a story about how that came to be. This may not be exactly right because he was telling me on my deck after dinner and I didn't have my notebook so who knows.

He tells me that things weren't going so well for him at that time. He was really trying to figure out what to do with himself all those years back and he had somehow forgotten that what he really loved and what he really had dreamed about doing in the past was to own a sailboat.

He was seized by this idea and knew that it was right. So, he decided very shortly afterwards to go visit this boat building place about 20 miles outside of Montreal where he lived at the time. He took a train and found the place and just as he was approaching the place this older yachting-type dapper gentleman with the ascot and the navy blue blazer, came out of the building. He approached him and said that he wanted to learn everything he could about boatbuilding and he'd be willing to start doing any types of odd jobs just to learn. The guy chatted with him and said, we're actually looking for four guys. Talk to the foreman. Come and start on Monday.

At the same time, a friend of Don's invited him to a talk where the ideas of a man named Prem Rawat (Maharaji) were being shared. He didn't know anything about Prem Rawat at the time but he decided to go.

He says he always sits at the back of any room because he's an observer, and used to being on the outside since childhood, so he sat in the last seat closest to the door. As the talk began, the person giving the talk on Prem Rawat's behalf zeros right in on him first and calls him up to the front of the room. He proceeds to do "the technique" on him and show him the techniques and then says that he needs to come back again in a few days. Problem. That's when he was supposed to start his job. He feels compelled to return however to complete what he must.

But what should I tell them? he asks about his new workplace. Tell them, says the teacher, that you have a spiritual sickness.

So, he has to call the foreman and ask if he can start the job a few days later than scheduled. Why? asks the foreman. Is there a problem? I waited a bit, and then just said, I can't come, I have a spiritual sickness. I have to do something that will help it.

The foreman had a bit of a melt down and yelled at him about work ethic and how religion can't get in the way of his work but Don insisted that he just couldn't come until a day or two later than expected.

So, he goes to hear this seminar and he says he felt so incredibly good after the sessions.

The next day, he wasn't sure whether he'd even have a job but he decides to follow through and show up to the workplace. The foreman simply greets him, gives him the hours of work and tells him to proceed to working on one of four boats that were being built.

It just so happens that the boat he was directed to work on was exactly the boat he had dreamed about owning one day and during the 10 mos of working there (before the foreman and him clashed for the final time) he learned everything he could about how to build a boat like the one he ended up building, which took him seven years.

It's called L'Orenda which means "spirit" in Iroqouis and that's a little funny if you know how much he seems to hate the word "spiritual" because of all the "posers" for lack of a better word in the "new age" movement.

He's been taking people on sailing charters for 15 or so years and today Karin and I and five other people were treated to the luxury of being on his beloved boat sailing to Galiano and back.

I thought it was a bit ironic after I got off the boat when I thought about the day how someone like him who seems very much like he doesn't like to talk about himself to an extreme would end up coming into the pathway of someone like me who does nothing but ask questions.

The best part was that Karin began asking him questions as well about how he made the boat because what he doesn't know about Karin is that she's involved in blacksmithing and she works with Iron as a result of her art and is genuinely interested in how things are made. So, for the first while he was probably feeling overwhelmed by our questions so much so that he said we were cut off, restricted to only 4 questions each (and this was before we'd even left Ganges Harbour)!

I can't help but think that our meeting is not a coincidence(and I smile as I write that knowing how much he would hate such a statement because of how New Agey it is) but I just know there are some lessons to be learned here - by him and by us - and those ain't got nothing to do with sailing she says with a sly smile.

You Are as You Are

You do not resemble anyone
You are not the bride or the groom

You do not fit in a house with anyone

You have left the closed-in corner
where you lived.

You are as you are
An indescribable message on the air.

-Rumi

Stand in one spot, Access a Microcosm

If you're visiting the island you may not know of a very special spot off Churchill Road that leads to the Hastings House Sculpture Garden. It's a trail behind Hastings House that leads to various sculptures placed beside the trail. This was one of them. I believe they change on a somewhat regular basis. I liked this one. Two wirey explorers. I have no idea what the artist intended.
I went for a little walk last night and drove to the end of that road to find a small beach.

On the way back I stopped in here and spent quite a lot of time just looking and as always, the longer I spent there, the more I saw when initially, I felt like there wasn't too much to photograph.
There are some beautiful trees on this property as well,
and a "dig" or a simulated dig but I didn't really understand the explanation.

Until last night I had never really looked at the underside of a fern leaf. There are dots...

Characters are Salt Spring's Most Abundant Renewable Energy Sources

One thing that there is never a shortage of here on island is characters. It may just be the best source of renewable, alternative energy that Salt Spring has.

Last night Karin and I (in her first ever car that she just got for a steal - a 1996 Toyota Camry) - went to what was advertised as a Nordic Summer festival.

In spite of the advertising, there were only about 20 people there. It was in someone's backyard up a road I'd never been on. The house looked like it had been built illegally in the 70s and there were large, old school buses that looked like revamped living space, dotting the property. It was a bit like stepping back in time.

But, that's what great about here. Someone has an idea, creates it, puts out the invitation however they can and just waits to see who shows up. That can be good and bad.

The highlight of the evening was Dan the organizer reading a Nordic folktale about Odhin, one of the main Norse Gods. There was also a makeshift altar (see photo) which Karin looked at and said jokingly, "Is that the altar where you can pray for bigger breasts?" noting the weird green ceramic head with boobs in the photo (look carefully).

There was impromptu guitar playing and we met Chief Laughing Eagle (CLE) who has a lot to say and since he's been here since 1973 has a lot of knowledge about the island. He was first introduced to the place, he said, by Chief Dan George.

Salt Spring is actually called Chu'an (pronounced Shuan) island and according to CLE, the reason the natives don't live here is because this island is sacred so they would only come here for ceremonial reasons. The Tsawout people allow the public onto a trail, one of the most beautiful spots on the island, in the south.

CLE (or silly) as some little kid dubbed him has just become the honourary head of some North American Native organization and I wish I had been paying more attention. But, then again, I do recall he said it was a secret society, and he is about to graduate from the highest level of shamanic practices or something.

When Karin and I left, he caught a ride with us as we headed off in search of a Kirtan that had been advertised as well. I think I will forevermore have an image of him, dressed all in red (including red crocs) and before he got into the back seat of her new old car, he carefully removed the feather that was sticking out of his headband and put it away in his knapsack. I just have such a strong image of the reverence for which he handled that feather in the shadows beside the carwheel where he crouched down.

We dropped him at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere with his guitar case, a hand made drum, his knapsack and a dolly (that's right, a dolly) the kind movers use.

After the door slammed and we were on our way home, we both agreed that there are a lot of people here who have a lot to say and really want you to know every bit of their knowledge (ad nauseum).

We laughed, knowingly, and smiled at yet another memorable evening since the Kirtan had already ended.

Crazy Retirees and a Bale of Hay

The man with the can - Murray - met by me last August here on Salt Spring at the Fernwood dock while I was desperate to pee, and voila, his camper bathroom was right there at the right time, has returned with Kathleen from Kansas whom he met in Yuma Arizona where the snowbirds are known to get wild and crazy from what I hear.

They've been on a three month tour in his camper (those farm girls are very adaptable) and on our little walk after dinner in Duck Creek Park, all it took was one bale of hay to create some excitement. Ahhh. Country livin'.

Spirits Disguised

There is this man who has been coming into the employment centre where I work for some time now. Possibly, before, and as long as I've been working there. He has the most beautiful long blonde hair down his back. Sometimes he lets his beautiful long blond hair flow freely. Sometimes he wears it in a knot on top of his head and that gives a more oriental flavour to his appearance. His face is very pleasing, well proportioned and peaceful. In fact, his whole being is peaceful.

He wears the kind of clothes that make him look a bit Asian in his way of dress and yet he is definitely not Asian. He teaches Qi Gong and when I asked him if he was still doing that he responded by saying, yes, I'm still teaching and... learning... and studying...

He's a carpenter and apparently a very good one according to my co-worker. I didn't talk to him much for the first many months because he's very quiet and so when I think of him it feels a bit ethereal; as if he just floats in, doesn't take up space, he doesn't impose on your energy with his, and he does what he needs to do and then leaves.

He speaks very softly. A while ago, perhaps a month or so, he needed some help with his resume, so I helped him and that's when I began to talk to him in more depth. I learned that if he could do anything he would make houses that are oriental looking. He's very interested in creating buildings or gates or any type of structure that has an oriental feel to it. He's knowledgeable about green building and is familiar with rammed earth housing and building.

Today, I had to ask him what that meant. What is rammed earth? I asked and he said, Are you kidding?

No, I said. I don't know what that means. So, he explained it to me and afterwards he said, maybe one day he could build me a rammed earth house and for a second, in my imagination, I revelled in that imagery.

I said, that would be nice but you have to have land for that I said. I don't own land. How could I ever own land here? And, then our conversation meandered through spiritual ways of thinking and perceiving and him referring to how he truly believes that I will own land because he has faith, if I understood him correctly, that it's only a matter of perception. I responded by saying that I understood the intent of his belief but unfortunately I wasn't at the point of believing it.

He's beginnning to grow on me this person. He came once to this vendor beside me at the market and after he left I asked the man if he knew him. He said, yes, he's very special. He's not of this world were his exact words. And, I thought that was such an appropriate way of describing him.

Anyway, this type of interaction is what I most like about my job. Every day I am reminded that we should not judge people by how they look until we have had the opportunity to get to know them. He is one of those people that reminds me of this. And I like that. When I worked at UBC, people were how they seemed. Educated. Formal. Conservative. And, for the most part, very nice. Maybe they weren't but what I"m trying to say is that there weren't too many surprises in terms of people and the way they were. Homogeneous.

Here on Salt Spring I am much more surprised by people. They are often disguised. Their bright spirits are often cloaked in unusual clothing or difficult circumstances or physical bodies that betray their intelligence, humour, insight, depth.

I like that about my job. It's as if what I envisioned and was seeking in my imagination prior to moving here has unfolded in a way that I would never have believed had I not been experiencing it daily.

Friends of Friends

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You don't see me drinking this beer. It's an illusion! Truly!

Isn't it interesting how sometimes you meet people at parties, see them across a room but have never actually made the effort to talk to them because there didn't seem to be the opportunity and let's get real, I didn't make the opportunity. So often that's the case isn't it. Get a group together and you just don't interact with everyone.

That's Ron and Marianne. I've seen them at Karen and Victor's parties a few times but have never really interacted with them in any significant way. Then, they come to Salt Spring (urged by Karen and Lisa to call me) and suddenly, I get to re-meet these two really lovely people and it's like meeting them for the first time really.

Lavendar Fields Forever

Went to the lavendar festival today and there's just something about that beautiful mauve that's as soothing as its herbal properties.

I was sitting on the grass, learning how to make a lavendar wand by weaving ribbon around the 9 strands of lavendar.

In the heat, with the bees, and a bunch of women and children getting a quick lesson on how to make lavendar wands, it seemed like the only thing missing were big pastel floppy sun hats and mint juleps.

It felt like such a wonderfully old fashioned way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
My favourite photo is the one in the middle. I like the hint of the wooden chair against the field of purple.

The Extraordinary Dick Dale

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photo from Dick Dale's website.

Last night I went to a concert I'll never forget.

It was one of those evenings that was too outstanding to describe. And, I'm ashamed to admit that until last night I didn't even know who Dick Dale was. (The Ventures and "wipe out", The Opening Sound track to the movie, Pulp Fiction, Surf Music from the 50s.)

Ron and Maryann (friends of Karen's) were on island camping and got in touch with me. I was thinking about going to the concert just because I'd heard good things about him in a way that made me think that it might be really worth seeing, but had they not got in touch with me, I probably wouldn't have gone and I honestly, without exaggeration may have missed the most memorable evening I can ever recall having at a concert.

The guy, (72 going on 50), has the most amazing talent, charisma, stories and he just wouldn't stop. (The guy's even a pilot and has his own landing strip at his Sky Ranch). He was on that stage for at least 2 hours non stop if not 2.5. As he would say, it was "bitchin'" and in a way that of course you can't help but laugh every time he says it.

It wasn't sold out. The tickets only cost $28.50. He had an opening band that played a few short sets including his 17 year old son, Jimmy Dale, who has amazing musical talent on drums.

The best part was that he seemed to be having a blast. It was like he didn't want to get off the stage. He just kept telling more stories, playing more, hammin it up.

He kept referring to the experience as being "in the living room" which is kind of what it's like when you're in ArtSpring because it only seats about 250 people and the stage is right there. He was no more than 8 feet from where I was sitting. It felt like he was in the living room.

I was on the left side in about the 3rd row on the center aisle and managed to get a seat right behind Ron and Maryann. So, at some point, what feels like maybe 1.5 hours into him entertaining us, he leaves the stage, keeps playing, walks up one side, goes out the door and begins to descend the stairs towards the stage on the side we're on.

He comes down and stops right beside me, playing the whole time, leans over and of course what am I supposed to do but the natural thing which is give him a kiss on the cheek. He looks at me and hands over one of his guitar pics.

I'm so glad Ron and Maryann were there to witness what I witnessed because I can't even describe it. He's 72. He's has amazing charisma. Energy. And, he just recovered in the past year from colon cancer but he says it's "the audience" that's his medicine.

When he finally wrapped up, and came out into the lobby to sign CDs, posters and even one guy's forehead, Randy Bachman was leaving and Bachman's wife snapped a photo of Randy beside Dick Dale.

I was standing outside and even before that I was thinking to myself, who can I give this pic to and I was thinking I could give it to Randy Bachman, so that's what I did.

He passed me on the way out and I just said to him, Do you want this? He just said sorta confused, "Is it his?" I said "Ya, I'm sure it will mean more to you than it does to me," and I handed it over. He said thanks very appreciatively and that was my evening.

I could have hung onto it but for what? I have the memory of an unforgettable evening of music and of a real talent. (The guy played the trumpet and the drums as well). Let's face it, I dont play the guitar. I'm not someone who "collects" things from famous people or in general. What was I going to do with it?

It makes me happy to think that Randy Bachman might actually play one of his guitars using one of Dick Dale's pics all because of me!

Independence Day Not for Chickens

I've often wondered if the person who made this chicken, (it is a chicken or a rooster?) intended a double meaning for this bird or what?

That's for him to know.

Happy Independence Day for all you yankees in our midst.

Classic Cars on Canada Day

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Happy Canada Day!
Lots of festivities here. There was a really good classic car show here and I snapped this photo among others. I really like this one because it has a walker in the reflection and it just seemed like such an extreme juxtaposition and the contrast struck me as amusing.

In keeping with the classic car theme, I rented that movie Gran Torino with Clint Eastwood. As almost every Eastwood movie, it was great. If you haven't rented it, it's definitely worth watching. A quiet day for me!