Last week Linda and I visited the soup kitchen run by the Keremeos Community Church. We were sitting at a table with Mike Andersen, a man with the physique of a heavy weight boxer, but not the intimidating demeanor. “The 4 men on the other side of the room wouldn’t have eaten today if they had not come in,” he said. He smiled and waved to a couple walking through the door, then turned back to us. “We serve soup to the community every Thursday. Some come because they’re hungry. Others hope someone will accept them and listen to them. People also come to support us in showing a friendly face and outreached hand to the community. We’re happy to feed them all.”

Looking around, I saw microphones along one side of the spacious room, an indication that on Sundays this is a worship area. Today casually dressed people of all ages were sitting at 4 long tables, chatting animatedly and laughing. A few men wore caps, suggesting the dress code is relaxed. People seemed at ease, enjoying the company and the soup.

I had sensed the welcoming atmosphere the moment we walked through the door. Kathy greeted us warmly and guided us to a table. She returned with bowls of steaming chicken vegetable soup. Also a bun, coffee, and dessert. She rises early each soup day and bakes the delicious white buns.

Mike, a farmer for 20 years, has broken horses and trained trail horses. He still rides his large sturdy mule. This morning he had arrived at the kitchen at 8:00 to prepare the soup. “The vegetables we use are fresh,” he said. “We comply with all Health Branch regulations.” Noticing that my bowl was empty he asked, “would you like a re-fill?”

The volunteers running the kitchen are a committed and diverse lot. Joanne said, “I’ve been where some of the people are. The church rescued our family. Now I want to give something back. It’s good to see people low in life feeling loved and accepted.” It was her first day in the kitchen.

Like Mike, George Spencer has been there from the beginning. Before Keremeos, he worked 40 years as a bartender and waiter in a Vancouver hotel. “Alcohol, crack cocaine and crystal meth ruled my life those days,” he told us. “I had tried recovery programs without success. It was God who delivered me. I came to Keremeos to escape that scene. I agreed to come to this church only if my dog was allowed in. That was ok with the church.” Once introverted, he laughingly gives slinging beer credit for preparing him to interact easily with the people who come for soup.

“There’s a story behind each person who comes in,” Mike said. “Some have serious needs.

Today a young man walked out with a jacket that was donated this morning. Some rarely get out of their home, except when they come here. Everyone needs to feel accepted and loved.”

A donation box is placed in the opening to the kitchen, not where people will easily see it. “There’s no requirement to put anything in,” George said. “Those who can usually do. Also, some ladies from local churches contribute desserts. We get financial help from individuals and businesses. Valu Plus donates food. Our costs are pretty much covered.”

The emphasis seems not to be on proselytizing. “We just want to reach out to people and touch their lives,” George said. “It’s by our example we want to show them the love of Jesus.” I noticed a couple wave at him as they were about to walk out the door. He smiled and waved, then turned his attention back to us. “Sometimes people are dealing with difficult situations and they ask us to pray for them.”

They’ve been serving meals to 40 to 50 people between 11 am and 1 pm two days a week since February of this year. Mondays it’s sandwiches and Thursdays it’s soup and a bun. For Christmas Day they will move their operation to the more spacious Seniors Centre and serve a special meal to individuals who need a place where they will feel welcome and not be alone.

We found the excitement of the soup kitchen volunteers contagious and uplifting. Judging by the ebb and flow of voices and laughter, they are providing much more than just physical nourishment.

When our friends Terry and Lis Friesen of Abbotsford visited here this past Saturday, they commented on how busy Princeton was. They did not know this was the weekend of the Princeton Traditional Music Festival. Linda and I enjoyed it for a few hours on Sunday.

I met Jon Bartlett. He and Rika Ruebsaat are the visionaries and primary organizers who make the festival happen. Jon told me the attendance for the weekend was an estimated 2,000. “It’s about the right number,” he said. “It allows for interaction between performers and the audience.”

There were 2 main stages, with canopies to shield performers and audiences from the sun. Saturday was a scorcher. Should have been a boon for sellers of ice cream and drinks.

We particularly enjoyed “Liberty,” a band from the interior of B.C. Cousin Verna’s friend, Bob Cameron (Cam) played the guitar in this group. They featured Irish music.

The Vancouver Morris Men, clad in white, performed a series of vibrant dances on the street. They required more space than was afforded by a stage. Accompanied by several musical instruments, there was a lot of strenuous kicking of legs, waving of large white handkerchiefs and some well timed verbal outbursts. A riveting performance. The Morris is a traditional British dance.

One non-musical event was offered by the Okanagan Valley School of Massage. This was a half hour massage by donation. Our friend Sharlene had come with us and took advantage of this service. It seemed to be the highlight of her day. I asked if she was a new woman. Virtually vibrating with pleasure at the memory of the experience she said “yes!”

For further information about the festival and Jon and Rika, see my blog a couple of weeks ago. (“Princeton Traditional Music Festival”).

Elaine Cindrich told us her husband Joe is tenacious when he’s battling a tough problem. “He’s like a bulldog,” she said. Joe’s tenacity became absolutely essential several years ago when he realized invasive Japanese Knotweed had staked a claim on his neighbour’s property.

“The Knotweed can wreak havoc,” Joe told us when Linda and I recently visited at their home in the Township of Langley. He discovered at the outset the plant employs its luscious leaves and pretty white flowers to beguile unsuspecting property owners. When he informed his neighbour, an elderly widow, about the dangers of Knotweed she exclaimed, “Oh, but it’s so beautiful. I just love it.” Only his threat to sue if the plant invaded his property persuaded her to let him attempt to eradicate it.

“Ignorance of the issue has been a huge problem,” he said. “I went to the Township for help. At first the council was skeptical and I needed to educate them. Once they understood it could cause mayhem on municipal lands, they developed a plan and took action.” But it did nothing to assist him.

Now 75, in his work life Joe was a mechanic and then a manager with Finning Tractor in Vancouver. Later he established his own company, doing utility work. He realized he’d have to educate himself so he could keep the Knotweed off his own property and also inform others. His nature, and his work experience had provided him with the persistence required to deal with this unwelcome intrusion into his life.

Knotweed does not play by the usual rules. According to the Invasive Species Council of B.C., the root systems can go down to a depth of 2 to3 metres and extend 20 metres laterally. Authorities on the plant agree it can penetrate and undermine concrete foundations and blacktop surfaces. When engineers found it growing along the massive concrete footings of the Lions Gate and the Iron Workers Second Narrows bridges, they deemed it a safety threat requiring chemical intervention.

Digging it out just multiplies the weed. The District of Sechelt attempted to deal with Knotweed by digging down 3 meters and removing it. The weed reappeared the following year, having doubled in size. If even one centimetre of root remains in the soil, it can generate new plants.

The Okanagan and Similkameen Invasive Species Society (OASISS) states, “Knotweeds are very hardy and spread aggressively. They are capable of blocking access to waterways, reducing sightlines along roads and fences, shading out native plants, and increasing soil erosion.” Their website says Knotweed has been observed in Penticton, Oliver, Keremeos and Summerland.

Joe booted up his computer and showed us photos of the formerly dense Knotweed growth on the neighbouring property. He then invited us to tramp with him through high wet grass to view the present state of the land. “I started spraying the small plants with 20 per cent Roundup in 2013,” he said. Holding up a large ominous appearing bovine syringe he said, “I injected plants over 2 feet tall with100 per cent Roundup.” In spite of his vigorous, disciplined campaign, we saw a number of young plants all over the property. The websites dealing with Knotweed pretty much all agree 5 to 10 years are required to eradicate the weed. If the program is halted before its all gone, the clever weed takes this as a cue to again thrive.

By now our runners were soaked from the deep wet grass, but Joe’s willingness to share his knowledge made it well worth while. “It’s a huge problem in Britain,” he told us. “The UK government estimates that the cost of controlling Knotweed has hit the equivalent of $3 billion. If you have Knotweed on your property you can’t get a building permit. In Europe you won’t get a mortgage.”

Various government departments, including the Ministry of Transport, have grave concerns about Knotweed. It is expensive and very difficult to eradicate. The BC Weed Control Act requires citizens to take action against invasive species on their property. An owner who fails to do this may have to pay for the eradication.

Ignoring Knotweed is to invite destruction of property. If it comes our way, will we recognize it? Will we have the tenacity, patience and determination to battle it for 5 to 10 years? Joe Cindrich has the endurance. He’s that kind of man.