DESPERATE HOUSECATS

Named after the Egyptian goddess of sunrise and descended from an ancient family heritage in Thailand, she is beautiful, affectionate, garrulous and to some people, quite aloof. She is also high maintenance, but John doesn't mind, he loves her. John spends a lot of money on Bast, he buys her bling and expensive, tasty little meals. He takes her to a pricey, local salon for more grooming and they go out to shows several times a year.

Bast is intelligent, sensitive and has a slightly nervous temperament, although she is sociable, she is bonded only to John. Bast has fine bones, an aristocratic head, a slim muscular build, short pale hair and striking, almond shaped, deep blue eyes. She has a creamy, pale body with contrasting dark features. She moves fluidly, gracefully, and occasionally, with uncanny speed and agility but spends a lot of time in bed or grooming. Bast has won several awards for her beauty and attractive disposition. Bast is a Seal Point Siamese show cat...

Bast has a cousin in Thailand called Wichien-Maat it means Moon Diamond. They have never met. Bast looks just like her but she has less contrasting markings. Moon Diamond is a Chocolate Point Siamese cat. John is considering bringing Moon Diamond over from Thailand to live with them.

Everybody loves Bast including her two best friends Thai and Bali. They are sisters who live with John's cousin Benjamin where they all visit every week or two. Thai and Bali never come to visit Bast because Benjamin doesn't drive but sometimes, John takes everyone to shows. Thai and Bali are beautiful but they are unaware of it. They have more muted, pink gray markings than Bast. They are Lilac Point Siamese show cats. They are desperate for attention and they demand a lot of it from Benjamin. They are also desperate to ESCAPE. Thai especially, really wants to get outside and rushes to answer the door at every opportunity. But Benjamin says the streets are a dangerous place for slender, naive young females.

Thai and Bali are active, playful and inquisitive and they fuss around Bast. But she's more snooty than they are and less desperate for attention generally, since she travels regularly and has many celebrity friends. One of these celebrities Ting, is a Blue Point Siamese show cat with grey face, ears, tail and paws. Ting is very sociable and knows everybody so Ting, Bast, Thai and Bali talk a lot when they are together at a show, John calls them the chatty Cathys.

Lately the cats have been talking of climbing trees, of basking in the sun, eating grass and catching crickets, stalking birds and thrilling mouse hunts, things none of the cats have ever done but have always dreamed about. Recently the cats have been talking about only ONE thing when they get together...ESCAPE!

Once, Bali squeezed by Benjamin's leg when he answered the door and ESCAPED into the hall, she went up and down the hall but all the other doors were closed until finally a bell rang and one door slid open, Bali darted in, but only found herself in a tiny room with no other doors or windows, so after a while she gave up and went home.

Last year, at a show, John dropped Bast's leash, she made a quick little run and ESCAPED through an open gate, but around the corner there was another gate and this one was closed.

Ting thinks she's ESCAPED because once, she got out of her cat carrier, jumped into the front seat, put her paws on the dashboard and looked out the front window, but the other cats don't think this counts.

John and Benjamin are wise to the cat's plans and are careful not to let the cats out.

The cats know that ESCAPE is not easy but they think they are very smart and are still trying to pull it off.

JulianOnePlanet 2009

THE CHICKENS FINALLY COME HOME TO ROOST IN VANCOUVER

Vancouver city council recently voted unanimously in favour of scratching out an old bylaw that prevented the rearing of chickens in residential neighbourhoods. This act reflects an urban trend that is currently in full flight in North American towns and cities. With varying conditions in all the many jurisdictions, it's legal to keep flocks in Victoria, Burnaby, New Westminster, New York, Pittsburgh, Seattle, Portland, Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, Miami, Minneapolis, Denver, Atlanta, Nashville, San Jose, Houston, San Francisco and countless other urban and suburban roosts. But until a couple of days ago, Vancouver chicken cops were ready to pluck any outlaw hens from residences.

So why have so many city councils been brooding over this issue recently? Is it because the downturn in the economy has led people to scratch a living from their formerly ornamental gardens? Is it because so many urbanites see commercial, battery chicken farms as inhumane? Therefore some people think that they can lay claim to part of the free run, free range, organic, healthy living, anti-big business, anti-food importing attitude that is popular in certain circles, just by practicing a little backyard animal husbandry? I think the answer to the latter question is yes.

Backyard chicken flocks are a staple part of family meals for countless millions the world over and not for trendy reasons as is the case in rich North America. Where ever land is available and money is scarce people don't stew about issues such as whether or not the chickens can run free in the sun. Chickens are simply kept for food.

Here in Vancouver, a dozen eggs from a commercial farm costs around three dollars. Free run/range eggs cost a dollar or two more. These prices are hardly high enough to ruffle the feathers of locals, all of which count their incomes in the thousands of dollars. I recently bought a whole, fresh, three pound, fryer chicken at No Frills, a local grocery store, for a dollar a pound! I regularly lay more than that on the bar at Dix for a beer!

Although the repealing of this local bylaw might egg on a few dozen city dwellers to try their hands at raising chickens, I hardly think that we'll see hens cooped up on thousands of apartment balconies in Yaletown nor will we be hearing many cock-a-doodle-doos in the gardens of Kerrisdale mansions. Having said that, people do love their pets and hens make engaging pets. There are countless thousands of dogs and cats living in Vancouver apartments and they are all defecating in boxes and city parks. Adding a few layers to the list of pets isn't going to turn the city into a barnyard. But if a couple of rich celebrity chicks are seen on Robson street with hens' heads peeking out of their purses, old and young alike may pick up the trend of keeping chickens as pet companions. The next thing of course will be pet accessories and services for urban chicks. Diamond leg bands, feather dusters and hen parties will be all the rage this season, I predict. Empty nesters who are missing their children will start keeping exotic breeds for their distinct personalities. We'll probably have to stop eating chicken wings in bars because it will be seen as cruelty toward animals. No doubt Petcetera and PetSmart will start selling fancy, canned and organic chicken feed that' s advertised on TV. And of course, vegetarians will raise vegetarian chickens while carnivores will feed their chickens slugs and bugs. Local veterinarians will flock to refresher courses on chickens. Some conscientious new pet chicken owners will accompany their hens to obedience schools and focus groups but many will just wing it.

Since the change in the by-law was announced, inevitably there has been some clucking from people in various interest groups. Perhaps some of the few locals who farm vegetables in their urban gardens will take a gander at adding chicken coops to their urban home steads. After all, is a chicken in a cockamamie back yard cage any different than a cockatoo or a cockatiel in a gilded cage?...Well chicken eggs are bigger and size does matter which breeds another question. What about getting some ostrich sized eggs hatching in our backyards? This isn't just a little chicken shit! Having a few seven foot tall, three hundred pound birds scratching under the fence could really get the neighbours squawking. An owner would likely have to deal with less foul play from resident coyotes and hawks however.

Some have voiced concerns that aging layers will end up as home grown cockaleekie in city cock pots. Slaughtering a guinea hen in the garage is one thing, but slaughtering ostriches would certainly get people running around the neighbourhoods like chickens with their heads cut off! But giant African chickens will likely never come home to roost and I don't see this change to Vancouver's pet by-law as much to crow about.

JulianOnePlanet Publications Copyright 2009

VANCOUVER'S LAST HOP VINE?

http://www.camravancouver.ca/
In 1905 the neighbourhood of Mt Pleasant was a logged off area with only a few structures off Main or Broadway. One of them was a Vancouver Breweries building at the corner of what is now 280 E 6^th Ave. at Scotia. The brick and stone building is a heritage one now and is an artist's live work studio complex.

The brewery was sited there because of the creek that flowed there and the water turned the grist mill and of course provided water for the beer. Brewery Creek still flows but it's underground now. It flows as it almost always has down to False Creek flats at E.1^st Ave and Scotia. In fact the Artech building has pumps underground to keep the parkade from flooding. Across the street from Artech there's a large hop vine growing wild in the blackberry brambles. I can't prove it but it's reasonable to suppose that spent hops and grains dumped outside the brewery found their way via stream or wind or birds downstream to where what now could be Vancouver's last hop vine's current location.

False Creek was filled in to eliminate Mt. Pleasant's waterfront and Brewery Creek long since sent underground but the hops are still here...barely.

Recently, a City of Vancouver “Greenway” project has a bicycle path planned that will bulldoze the vine's location on the boulevard. Currently, the two pronged approach of the path has brought the east end from Main st. to within a few yards of the vine. The westerly extension is at Great Northern Way and Brunswick, also within a half a block of the vine. I'm surprised there's been a mature crop this year. I figured the machines would have sent the vine to oblivion weeks ago.

As the nights cool in the dying days of summer 2008 the last crop this old vine will produce has reached its prime.

I've brewed with these hops, sold them on Ebay and given them away over the years. This is the last hurrah.

I've taken samples of the hops to Derrick at Dix and he has said that he's interested in brewing a fresh hopped beer but he will not be able to fit it into his schedule until the 3^rd week in September. The hops MIGHT still be there but annailation is imminent.

The vine's located on the north side of 336 E. 1.st Ave. opposite the little park. Anyone interested in taking rhisome cuttings or hops will need pruners and gloves to clip away the blackberry brambles.

The vine is large so it will be possible to harvest a bunch big enough to brew anything from a basic 5 gallon homebrew on up to craft brew sizes.

Cheers,

JulianOnePlanet Publications copyright 2008

“relax, have a homebrew” Charlie Papazian

A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND

Karen sat in the lunch room at the Youth Detention Center. Sullen and barely responsive, she was the stereotypical image of a teen in trouble. Piercings and tattoos accented a black hoody with a white skull and cross bones on the sleeves.

“Look.” said the warden “ If you work until your case is heard you'll get a reference and it will help to get the case dismissed. It's dirty work, but the Animal Shelter needs volunteers.”

“OK.” said Karen finally. Karen went to the Animal Shelter and cleaned cages all day. The next day she volunteered again. On the third day she went to court.

“Complete forty hours of community service and stay at the Women's Shelter for thirty days. Don't let me see you back here.” said the judge.

Karen went back to the Animal Shelter where she worked all week. She'd met a big, friendly dog, quite thin, with a white ear and one white foot. With no tag on his collar she called him Jake. “Jake's” days at the Animal Shelter were running out. Unclaimed dogs at the Animal Shelter were put down after forty five days...he'd been there for thirty-nine. He watched her with his head on one side while she worked.

“Where do you come from?” she asked him.

“Woof.” said Jake and thumped his tail on the cage floor.

On Monday the Animal Shelter didn't call for work. Karen went to the Child Services Office, got a food voucher and sold it for ten dollars. She panhandled all day and counted her money. She had fifty three dollars. She went to the Animal Shelter and got permission to take Jake out for a walk.

“Big, old dogs are to hard place.” said the Animal Control Officer.

Karen paid the fifty dollar fee. Jake was free. Together they went to McDonald's and with a coupon the remaining three dollars got them each a double cheeseburger. Karen had never seen such a happy dog.

“ I couldn't let you die there.” she said.

“Woof.” said Jake and his tail thumped against her. For the first time in a long time, Karen smiled.

Jake wasn't welcome at the Women's Shelter. That night she spent a chilly night in a park with Jake's warm body next to her.

In the morning, another trip to the Child Services Office got her another food voucher. There was a notice on the job board offering cash paid daily for delivering papers door to door. Karen and Jake went to the address on the notice.

“The papers are ready at midnight and must be delivered by 6am. You have to return the satchel to get paid.”

Karen's route had six hundred papers. There were six bundles. She split the first bundle into each of the satchel pouches and picked it up. With the satchel on her shoulders she could barely walk, after half an hour she sat on the curb exhausted and demoralized. Jake wanted to get going, this a was a good walk.

“Woof.” he said and thumped his tail.

Karen tied a knot in the strap of the satchel and draped it over Jake's back.

"There.” she said, “you deliver the papers.”

Jake walked ahead to the next gate and looked back at Karen until she caught up. It seemed like he knew the routine. She took a paper out of the satchel and tossed it onto the porch. Jake walked on to the next gate. The two of them delivered papers like that all night long. In the morning Karen had forty two dollars. She bought dog food and girl food and convinced the matron at the Women's Shelter to let Jake sleep on the back porch for the day. That night Karen and Jake delivered six hundred more papers. She bought plastic rain ponchos for them both at Army & Navy. They delivered papers six nights a week for three more months, sleeping at the shelter by day and delivering papers all night. The streets were safer for Karen with Jake around and he never left her side. The nights got shorter and warmer. Karen lost some weight, Jake gained some. Looking in the mirror one spring day, Karen took out her piercings. Her skin was clear and her hair shone. She was eighteen years old and she wasn't angry anymore.

“Woof.” said Jake, anxious to get going. It was 6:00 am and Karen had just been paid. Together they watched the sun rise. Lately, Karen had begun to notice things she hadn't noticed before. The sound of the birds at dawn, the scent of the lawns after a spring rain. The smile of the girl at the coffee counter. Karen put her arms around Jake's neck. Karen realized that she was happy.

“Woof.” said Jake.

One night when Karen and Jake arrived for work the supervisor at the Distribution Office said.

“You wanna work in the office here startin' Monday we got an openin' ...be for a month at least.”

“Can Jake stay? “ asked Karen.

“No problem.”

Karen did office and warehouse work for the next two years, shipping and receiving the papers and entering route information into the computer. Jake patrolled the loading dock. All the drivers got to know him. She rented a basement suite with a co-worker and walked Jake every day at the beach.

One Monday in September Jake limped over to her and didn't woof. The next day he could barely stand and he shook. She took him to an animal hospital in a cab.

The vet felt the hard mass in Jake's side. Later he showed her the x-ray.

Jake looked at her and thumped his tail weakly but he didn't woof.

“You saved my life.” she said with her hand on his head.

Walking alone for the first time in years, Karen went out of the hospital onto the street, walked without direction, past the Distribution Office, past the park where she'd spent that first cold night with Jake, past the houses where they'd delivered the papers all those nights all those months and years ago, down to the beach where she walked every day these days with Jake. She sat on a bench and looked out across the bay, at the mountains and the city and the sea while her tears fell. The people went by with their dogs and children. The sun slowly dropped. The air cooled. She sat there for a long time.

“We made a good team.” she said out loud. “ I saved your life and you saved mine. I loved you Jake and I'm going to be okay.”

JulianOnePlanet Publications Copyright 2009

First Published in Vancouver in the Metro Pet Gazette February 2009

JulianOnePlanet Presents....THE TUESDAY NIGHT NO NAMES

Julian's TUESDAY NIGHT NO NAMES has not been nominated for an Oscar this year but but I consider to it be a dark horse nominee for cult video of the year. Warning, unless you are in the league, and actually even if you are, you should only watch this video if you have absolutely nothing else to do.

To see the slide show of my Tuesday night hockey league click the link above. It's on Viddler.com because YouTube rejected it because it's over ten minutes long. As an artist, I felt unwilling to compromise the integrity of the show to meet YouTube's criteria so Viddler leaped into the gap.
Viddler seems to be a very good service, similar to YouTube but with fewer restrictions and the registration process was quicker as well.

JulianOnePlanet Publications 2009

THERE ARE TWO KINDS OF BREWERIES IN THE WORLD

There are two kinds of people in this world....those who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don't....but seriously folks, the incongruous thing about the myriad of beers available in this world is that there are really only two kinds of breweries in the world. The first one is the kind that brews and sells the overwhelming majority of all the beer in the world....the commercial brewery. The second one is the craft brewery. In almost everything these two types of breweries do they are polar opposites.
The commercial brewery wants to sell as much beer as possible and there aren't really any limits to the amount of beer that can be brewed or sold. The craft brewery has quite limited brewing capacity and all the beer will sell out fairly quickly.
The commercial brewery wants to appeal to the widest possible demographic and so the beer is made with the least possible taste, colour and very low alcohol content. The craft brewery is brewing for a tiny segment of the population, likely less than 5% of all beer drinkers. Craft brews are very flavourful, meaning malty and/or hoppy. Crafts brews are colourful, appearing coppery or black as well as golden. Higher gravity brews from 5% up to 9% are the norm and light beers are rarely brewed.
The commercial breweries cut costs on ingredients whenever and wherever they can and using cheap cereal grains such as corn and wheat and rice not only saves money but eliminates annoying taste in the beer such as maltiness...heaven forbid! Hops are used sparingly at best. Craft breweries use only top quality brewer's barley such as two row barley. They buy in smaller quantities and pay extra for quality in order to get distinctive flavour in the finished beer. Hops of many varieties are used liberally both for bittering and finishing.
Commercial breweries blend very carefully for absolute consistency. Every time a batch is complete 10% goes into one of the many onsite storage tanks and if the latest batch is not the same as the last batch, blending takes place until it's exactly the same. In a craft brewery each batch is celebrated for it's uniqueness! Consistency isn't expected nor is it the overriding goal.
Big commercial breweries spend most of their brewing budgets on advertising and as little as possible on the beer itself. Craft breweries have little money for advertising and beyond labelling and local promos, they expect their loyal fans to spread the word while the beer speaks for itself and that's where the money is mostly spent.
The difference between commercial breweries and craft breweries is that commercial breweries compete with each other to see who can make the most money for their shareholders whereas craft brewers compete to see who can make the best beer.....quite a different thing.
The commercial brewery is a giant, industrial, multinational corporation that brews in gigantic batches for mass market distribution. The craft brewery is usually a local, small company brewing in tiny batches for distribution to local restaurants and pubs in casks and often for consumption on the premises on tap.
When we drink beer brewed by a giant commercial brewery, we are talking mostly about light bodied, fizzy, yellow lager that is sold the world over.
When we drink beer brewed by a craft brewery, we are usually drinking ales and we could be talking about beer that is brewed in a style of times gone by, or in the style of a small distant region or we could be talking about beer brewed in a new style that the brewer has created for the sake of increased variety.
So all this does beg the question doesn't it? Why do the big guys have 95% of the world's market share when craft breweries go to all this trouble to make great beer. Well, I guess that most people don't know much about beer, don't like it that much, but are thirsty and want to get a bit drunk. But for those of us that know something about beer, like it a lot and still want to get a bit drunk, we'll take craft brewed beer every time!

THE BEST BREWERY IN THE WORLD

julianoneplanet@gmail.com

Reasons To Drink Better Beer
1. Nothing is simple in this world and nothing is what it seems. Therefore I offer an ordinary reason as a first one. Better beer tastes better.
2. Better beer is green.....well not literally and not really but it's fashionable so it gets second place

Vancouver, a couple of decades ago, was a largely undiscovered green spot on the Pacific Rim that, as I recall, didn't have much interest in craft brewing.....there has been a minor revolution of sorts....at least a fashion trend towards better beer..... in some small circles that is like CAMRA for example.
I was doing some research last night that involved hanging out at the best brewery in the world. Nice work if you can get it you might say. And I'd agree with you. It was Cask Night at Dix Barbeque and Brewery and our good friend James Walton from Storm Brewing threw a great curve ball to the batters taking strikes at Canada's favourite pastime...namely drinking beer. James provided a fresh cask of apple cider. Made from Saltspring Island apples grown in a hundred year old orchard James pressed the apples in a press he made himself.....now that's craft brewing. As far away from real ale as Budweiser is, the Saltspring Island Cider was just as distant from big company cider such as Growers. Dry, slightly cloudy, very appley in the nose and on the tongue, not too fizzy and cool from the cask with a surprisingly long finish and going down quickly at $5.75 for the 20oz pint this was an ultra rare oportunity to drink locally made cider by one of Vancouvers best and most dedicated craft brewers.
But what's this "best brewery in the world" business all about anyway. Well dear reader, I don't make this statement lightly, I've done extensive research over many years with funding from several sources (I've drunk a lot of beer and many people have bought me pints). So here's a dissertation on the subject.
Dix only has craft brewed beer on tap. Yes, if you want a bottle of Bud or Canadian it's in the fridge. But the yellow beer drinkers usually choose Red Truck Lager, a craft brewed version of the worlds best selling type of lager. So let's just say that if you love yellow lager Dix has an excellent version. And like big company yellow lager, it doesn't have much taste so it's great for those aren't crazy about the taste of beer but are thirsty and/or want to get a shine on.
So is that why Dix is the best brewery in the world?...uh no. Is it the Red Truck Ale? Is it the Game Day Pilsner? Is it the Imperial Stout Is it the ESB? Or maybe it's the food..... Is it the Southern Pride Smoker that produces the beef ribs?....uh no...not all this great stuff.... is it the great staff or the period room or the north Yaletown location?...no not this good stuff either.......... Its the IPA....Derrick makes killer IPA.