Page A10 • The Richmond Review
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opinion The sky is falling
T
his week’s brush with snowy, cold weather is a stark reminder that despite living in the most temperate climate in Canada, we are still a part of a wintry country. And we’re not very good at it. The first snowfall of the season is always exciting. Who amongst us didn’t make a beeline for the window first thing Saturday morning to see just how much of Friday night’s snow was sticking around? But the chaos that ensues makes us the butt of jokes in the rest of the snow-encrusted country. All last week weather forecasters warned us in dour, doom-filled tones this was coming. As S-Day neared, they issued breathless warnings, first for two to four centimeters, then five to 10 centimetres! TV news crews rushed to local garages to interview harried mechanics booked to capacity installing snow tires. They descended upon works’ yards to shoot impressive mounds of sand and salt. Newspaper reporters made dutiful calls to emergency shelters to see how they would care for the homeless. Merchants in malls and shopping centres rubbed their hands in anticipation of an appropriately seasonal feel to the start of the Christmas shopping rush. And we responded, as anyone who popped into a grocery store Friday evening for a loaf of bread may have witnessed from their spot 10 people deep in the checkout line; people were stocking up to hunker down and ride out the storm. Somewhere in Calgary, where it was -15C on Saturday with a foot of snow already on the ground, someone is chuckling at our expense. Mother Nature gave us a pass last year. But climatologists say this is a “La Nina” year with a very active jet stream bringing us cold temperatures from the north and moisture from the Pacific Ocean. And when they combine, that often means snow. So we’d better get used to it. Meanwhile, in Toronto it was 14 degrees and raining on Monday. Hmm. —Burnaby NewsLeader
The lives and farm that Norm touched
the richmond
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Shades of Green Arzeena Hamir
I
n my time as a staff person and board member at the Sharing Farm in Terra Nova, I’ve had the opportunity to work with thousands of volunteers. It’s been wonderful to meet each and every one of them and see their satisfaction, at the end of the day, when they know they’ve made a difference in the community. From time to time, however, you get to meet certain gems and, one in particular, has made a special imprint in my heart. I don’t recall exactly when Norm Stick arrived at the farm. I do remember that we were all lamenting how machinery and tools were breaking down. Someone
mentioned that we needed to put an ad in the paper for an “old fart” that could putter around and give us a hand. I don’t think I ever called him that but Norm certainly fit the bill: experienced, retired, and willing to help. I understood that he had worked as an aviation mechanic and was originally from Newfoundland. That became apparent one day when he looked on, in horror, as we composted the turnip tops before sending the roots to the Food Bank. “That’s the best part!” he cried. Apparently, turnip tops are a Newfie delicacy. From then on, we saved a box just for him. Being a mechanic, he quickly surveyed the sad state of our equipment and went to work, sharpening and organizing. Our donated ride-on John Deere mower had just died and he worked his magic, replacing the battery and giving it a tune up. When no one jumped to use it right away, he went to ride it through our hazelnut orchard and Chief Mower became another of his long list of titles at the farm. That was the beauty of
In typical Norm fashion, he cleared up the area, added manure, raised the beds, and built the most amazing garden. Norm. He saw what needed to be done and he did it. Our tool shed was a mess so he set up a system of hangers, and voila! We no longer were getting impaled every time we opened the door. One summer, he approached me and asked if we were doing anything with the patch of land just next to our field office. I looked at the area, covered in blackberries and comfrey, looked at Norm, and said, “If you can do anything with it, it’s yours.” Not only was it infested with the worst weeds, it was on the north side of a woodlot and constantly flooded. Well, in typical Norm fashion, he cleared up the area, added manure, raised the beds, and built the most amazing garden. This summer, I asked
Norm to join me to visit the Agricultural Machinery Museum in Fort Langley to look at small-scale grain equipment. He and my youngest daughter sat in the back of the car as we zoomed down Highway 1. As my daughter covered his hands with princess stickers, he recalled the trips he took, crisscrossing the country with his own children. All of a sudden I heard a cough and an “Oh no.” Poor daughter was car sick all over herself and managed to get Norm too. “Not a problem,” he said. We pulled into a gas station and he cleaned up my daughter and himself. Norm Stick passed away a few months ago but his presence will forever be remembered. If you spend some time with us at the farm, you might overhear us say “That’s in Norm’s Room” or “That came from Norm’s Garden.” I can’t imagine that those areas will ever be called anything but. Arzeena Hamir is co-ordinator of the Richmond Food Security Society. Reach her at arzeenahamir@shaw.ca.
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