At present I am sitting on a lovely old log porch looking into a valley filled with buttercups and horse pastures nestled between the trees, with a direct view of an enormous snow-peaked rocky mountain.
We’re just outside Nicholson, BC – rural mountain land just outside small town Golden, BC: the land of opportunity. Or so it was once named by town council.
Brenda is lively and chatting with her father-in-law nouveau.
“… such a hard worker! Well, you know that from having him on the farm!”
They both laugh a little and smile to themselves about the man in question – Jean-Guy Bernat – Brenda’s husband for all of 48 hours now. They’re smitten.
“The kids come in, ei?” Lize (la mere de la groom) and I share a moment on the porch as she hangs her bathing suit and towel in light of the sun on the line. We can hear a heard of Quebecois children playing with the horses down in the field.
ga ding ga ding ga ding ga dang, she says, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better describing word for the sound of children.
Lize is petite and fit with flawless skin for an 80 year old. She laughs with her mouth open.
I adore french people. “they look better, dress better, they’re smarter. classier…” sister Kirsten is also fond of the french, having spent summers in south france working on yachts as a suave eighteen year old.
“Come visit us!” says my grammy Florence in a casually hopeful way. “… or come with us!”
I haven’t decided whether or not to leave tomorrow with my grandparents and mother dear in the buick – or to stick around till tuesday when Rian heads back through from Calgary in his big white stalker van. A treat to behold.
Him, Gracie, and myself powered up here on thursday – arriving at 3am. The Van doesn’t like pushing 100k/h, which is fine with me. Ri and I get a chance to bond. He sleeps on the dog pillow in the back while Gracie rides shotgun – staring up at me with brown eyes while we go – without radio. just a steady hum from our jalopy.
Some places you go and it just feels like you haven’t left.
I love it here right now. sunset green and cantering steeds. handcut log house with a word of love carved above the horseshoes adorning the door. Romantic, hey?
They’ve put a log of work in since my last visit two years ago – they’d just started dating then. A new tack shop replacing the tiny ancient one i used learning to saddle a horse back in the day. A workshop for JG. New windows, new foundation, real steps from the driveway to the house, a cobblestone walk, a garden out back.
Less mosquitoes than any other summer I’ve been here. I may manage to escape with just three bites. Owe it to mother nature and her winter-like July.
Their wedding was beautiful.