Christmas in Vancouver, Canada

Christmas in Vancouver was amazingly white this year. For the first time in 37 years Canada experienced a white Christmas from coast to coast. It was magical and darn cold! We did not forsee this weather when we packed to come from the UK. Temperatures dropped to -16 at times. For Vancouver, that is unusual. Some of the mountian range is lit up at sunset. This is the view from our place. Sledding was of course a hit with everyone, although we realized that half the fun for kids is just getting to the tobogan hill. This included flopping down on the snow in fits of laughter. Sucking on icicles. Being carried, then being put down, being carried, then being put down, being carried.... This is "Chateaux Familia" where we were lucky enough to find free lodging. The frosted trees were amazing. Kids have a great time, but also pack it in much sooner. The cars were so snowed in (the picture above shows half the snowfall) that I felt guilty parking in spots that someone had laboured to shovel their car out of. Broadway Street in Vancouver. Driving was treacherously slippery. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Joe Boxer: Merry Christmas

A funny Christmas commercial.

Mrs. Muntala

Nigel writes: Mrs Muntala was quite an extraordinary woman. She was the sister (UK title for "nurse") in charge of the operating rooms in Malawi’s Cure Hospital where I worked for 3 months. We became very good friends after a rocky start. I had not realized that it was custom to greet those women older than you as ‘Mrs’ – a cultural mistake on my part but I soon rectified this. Mrs Muntala was often a little grumpy and would complain about all sorts of things though her work did seem impeccable. I managed to find the knack of making her smile and even just my saying "good morning Mrs Muntala" made her beam from ear to ear. I soon discovered that she had a very sweet tooth, like most Africans, and was very partial to a piece or two of Michal’s banana cake. She would carefully divide it up so that each person had a piece and have a few extra pieces for herself to take home! She made us laugh.

Open Up Sheffield Christmas

I am sitting in my studio this weekend for the Bloc Open Studio. Here are some shots of my studio and a little glimpse of winter from our kitchen window.

Writing Group: Final Meeting

Our writing group met for the third time. It has begun as a four week tester to see what sort of response there was. I won't make the last one, but hope it continues in the New Year. The older gentleman wasn't there this time. I don't know why, but did wonder. We had two writing activities in the class. The text in red is what we were prompted with and then had several minutes to write. Exercise 1: Long before I was born... candles were the lights on Christmas trees. You would think the hazards that this particular invention was dreamed up with might also have considered the tinder dry branches coupled with the harsh drafts that always accompanied those hauntingly dark and musty castles. As one might suspect the trees caught fire 7 out of 13 times according to local folklore, bringing with it the added bonus of no post Christmas tree clean up. I can't say I was there to witness it, but I suspect that old wives tale of a tree catching on fire during the winter solstice bringing an increase in the birth of male heirs might suggest those trees were not set on fire by an unguarded burst of air, but rather a sneaky slight of hand when no one was there to witness. It was quite mysterious how I came across this knowledge and curious custom at all. Finding myself poking around in an old attic in one of the aforementioned castles I discovered a large trunk with boxes of candles and their holders that clipped onto the tree. Next to it was a scrap book with handwritten dates that documented all the male births that corresponded to all the accidental fires. Exercise 2: Imagine a made up photograph. You are either looking at it or you are in it. Describe where it is? It is outside in a plaza in the city of Florence. Spring time is verging on summer. The sky is blue with the occasional cloud and the pigeons are strutting around in gangs looking for a free handout. Who is in the photograph? A young girl's blurred side is visible from the lower half of her face down to her hips. She is wearing a green fuzzy sweater and a dark tweed skirt. The moment captures her quick swing in a direction as her hair flies up to cover her face. Grabbing her left arm as she turns away is a male arm and hand. His face is not in the shot, but his arm wears an expensive black jacket. What is going on in the background? In the background are tables of people sitting at the outdoor cafes and restaurants chattering amongst themselves. Almost hidden among them is another young woman who is watching the scene between the pair with a look of knowing. What is just out of shot? Just to the right sits an older woman on a bench looking distressed. Her eyes are glassed over and she seems to not be aware of the business in the square. Describe something that is said or something that happens a moment after the shot. A moment later, the young woman grabs her arm away from the man, quickly scans the plaza and bolts as fast as she can towards a side road covered in cobblestone.

Artist: Justin Mortimer

I just saw a documentary of Rolf Harris (pictured below) during his making of a portrait of Queen Elizabeth II. During the show it occasionally interviewed other artists who had been privileged to also have the queen sit for them. An artist named Justin Mortimer popped up briefly along with his portrait. There was something about it that I loved. HMQ Commissioned by The Royal Society for the Arts 1997 I did an Internet search on him and found that his work has moved on since. It can sometimes be discouraging to discover an artist who is doing exactly what you had dreamed of evolving into because it has suddenly already been done. But Justin's work teeters somewhere between like and dislike for me. It is that strange space where I can't get his work out of my head and can't tell if it is because it bothers me or because I love it. I think it is both. What I am drawn to is the unexpected find of what I am always striving for as an artist. He has discovered a balance between being free to do whatever he wants while still using a technical skill that has been honed. What is not discouraging is that he is using that skill in a different way than I want to, but don't yet envision how I will go about it. I must keep an eye on his work.

Sentinal Events

Nigel is doing a lot of reading and studying lately on the NHS (UK's National Health Service) in preparation for interviews. We were talking about one hospital he had visited which had the stairs almost inaccessible to the public leaving the elevator the only obvious option. The hospital didn't want patients suicidally throwing themselves off a high floor down the stair well to the bottom. He described this as one example of a sentinel event that a hospital wants to avoid at all costs. There were a list of these sentinel events that he listed to my horror that would be catastrophic for any hospital to have happen. One that he had mentioned to me that doesn't seem to be on this list is child kidnapping from a hospital. The following is from the link he sent me: What is a Sentinel Event? A Sentinel Event is a subset of adverse events specified by the Department of Human Services (DHS). These events rarely occur but are more serious and are therefore reported to DHS and investigated immediately using a Root Cause Analysis process. DHS describes a Sentinel Event as a relatively infrequent, clear-cut event that occurs independently of a patient's condition. They commonly reflect hospital systems and process deficiencies and result in unnecessary outcomes for patients. DHS has specifically outlined 9 Sentinel Events, which must be reported: 1. Procedures involving the wrong patient or body part 2. Intravascular gas embolism resulting in serious neurological damage or mortality 3. Haemolytic blood transfusion resulting from ABO incompatibility 4. Patient suicide in hospital 5. Retained instrument or other material after surgery, requiring re-operation or further surgical procedure 6. Medical error leading to the death of a patient reasonably believed to be due to incorrect administration of drugs 7. Maternal death or serious disability associated with labour or delivery 8. Infant discharged to wrong family 9. Other

Liberia: Guess the Department

While I was on the ship I had wanted to do a blog called Mercy Feet. I would photograph every department's feet only and then it would be a guessing game as to which feet belonged to which department. I only got two departments along before I left Liberia, but you can see the glitzy feet that gave me the idea while I was sitting in one of my department meetings. The other shot is of Nigel's department.

Liberia: Running

We had a blog request almost half a year ago now from two young nephews asking to document the amount of sweat we produced while running in Liberia. Liberia is near the equator and therefore extremely hot and extremely humid. These two elements combined makes one want to faint after being outside for more than 5 minutes. The shade is not much cooler, but has the advantage of not getting you burnt. Skin is always wet or sticky with sweat. One just tries to get used to it while there and grabs a ride to the beach whenever possible. We decided to get up before dawn to begin our running regime. We imagined running in the dark would be considerably cooler. Waking up was difficult (I am not a morning person) as we put on our running clothes and headed for the exit door of the air conditioned ship (the air conditioning is essential otherwise the ceilings start dripping with water which destroys operating room machines and becomes a huge health hazard for the hospital). We stepped outside in the dark and were literally hit by a wall of humidity. We were stunned. In fact, it felt hotter than in the day because there was no breeze. I wasn't sure I could run. I staggered slowly, much to Nigel's dismay. I am not a natural runner. I didn't like running in school, particularly long distances, but started about 5 years ago to feel better mentally (think endorphin "drugs"). I run for 30 minutes and no more. I don't want to start avoiding running because it takes up too much time. Nigel on the other hand only started running in Liberia and is obviously a natural runner. He is faster than me and has far more stamina. We regularly did 6 laps from the end of the long dock all the way up the UN road to the main highway outside the port. We sweated profusely. It was about the same amount of liquid as if we had stepped clothes and all into a shower. Eyebrows that were meant to funnel off water from your eyes, were sweat-logged and we were continuously wiping sweat out of our eyes. I could feel a steady stream of perspiration filtering down my spine. By the time the last lap came around I was usually feeling overheated and a bit nauseated. I desperately insisted on walking for a minute just to cool down while Nigel ran on ahead. Then we were finally done as we walked it out for several minutes while the sun began to rise. We walked up the gangway and stepped back into the air conditioned ship which felt like bliss. If we were really desperate we would stand right in front of the big outflow fans at the entrance which blasted cold air. I always suspected the stomach ache I got from doing that must indicate I was moving from hot to cold too fast. Hmmm. To end the whole experience and to make sure our body temperatures came down properly (because sometimes they didn't) we would jump into a completely cold shower. It was a shock at first, but after a few seconds it was nice.

Liberia: UN Tanks

4 years after the bloody civil war it was still not uncommon to see tanks rolling through the streets of Libera. There was a permenatly parked one in the city centre of Monrovia, the capital, draped in green camophlage. I am not sure who it was fooling other than someone in a flying craft. When we visited the Firestone Rubber Plantation we were told they really destoy the roads which are paved very thinly on the cheap side. The tanks crack up the concrete.