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With the better weather, I’ve begun using the first furniture I bought for my cohousing home – a patio bistro set. When we moved in four weeks ago tonight I placed it a few feet from my place along a common walkway that’s mostly covered. I call it “the terrace”. When the clouds clear there’s a lovely view of the mountains; when its cloudy I can still see what’s happening in the courtyard.

I’ve been enjoying my morning protein smoothie or lunch on the terrace. It’s very near the entrance and today a surprise visitor arrived at the gate, a woman named Pat who’s been trying to get cohousing going in Halifax for 10 years. I gave her a tour around the complex and answered her questions.

I see raising consciousness about cohousing as a viable housing alternative as part of our community’s mission. At the same time, we don’t want to be inundated with tours, especially as we settle in and organize how we’ll be sharing our space.

One example of organizing is community meals. After we filled in our preferences for meal days in a Doodle poll, they’re set for Monday, Wednesday and Thursday nights and alternating Saturdays and Sundays for a weekend brunch, all in the “great room” in the common house, spilling out into the courtyard in good weather.

We’ve also filled in our preferences on an online spreadsheet for when we’ll be part of a three-person team to shop, chop, cook and clean up for meal. My first turn will come on Monday, April 11. I’m excited.

I like my own cooking and rarely eat out, so I don’t know how often I’ll be eating these meals (they’re not compulsory), especially after seeing the cost would be $7 per adult. A number of members wrote emails suggesting that was a bit high, so it has been reduced to $5. We’re experimenting as we go along to see what works. I love how we listen to each other.

Note: Students of Japanese etiquette may have noticed my faux pas in the photo. Chopsticks should rest along the sides of a bowl, never inside, which is reserved for the ritual after a cremation when family members pluck out bits of bone that weren’t consumed in the flames.

I woke up this morning to the news that the judge in the Jian Ghomeshi trial was delivering his verdict. Ghomeshi is the disgraced former CBC Radio host on trial for sexual assault and choking. Following the Globe and Mail‘s live blog from the Toronto courthouse, my heart sank with every post.

Justice William Horkins savaged what he called the inconsistencies and deception in the testimony of the three women complainants, acquitting Ghomeshi on all counts. This will put a chill on the willingness of future sexual assault victims to come forward and press charges. Canada needs to end the punishing style of questioning witnesses called “whacking”.

What will it take to bring about this change? Social protests, petitions, lobbying, political pressure, investigative reporting? A combination of all those? Whatever it takes to stop revictimizing the victims.

After the verdict, The Globe reported on the heated debate over how the justice system deals with sexual assault. By the evening, there were protest rallies in Toronto and Vancouver.

I can only hope there will be a different result when Ghomeshi faces another sexual assault trial in June.

Tonight I skipped Purim celebrations to catch a preview screening of The Lobster with my buddy Roni. We both deeply regret watching this brutal, cruel and sometimes funny film, and not leaving sooner than we did.

It was raining hard when I arrived at the 5th Avenue Cinemas at 6:15 for the 7 o’clock screening. Already there was a long line-up outside. We didn’t arrive soon enough to get the seats at the very back that Roni prefers so we sat in the balcony. Did I miss the memo that it’s OK in the balcony to loudly yak all through the trailers until the opening credits roll?

Here’s a synopsis of the British film: In a near-future society, single people must find a mate within 45 days or be transformed into an animal of their choice. Starring Colin Farrell and Rachel Weisz, The Lobster won 93 percent approval from critics as reported on the Rotten Tomatoes website, and the trailers looked appealing, that love would conquer all.

Well, not exactly. Too much bloody violence for both of us and we escaped as a scene of self-mutilation was about to play out. The Lobster opens Friday. Unless you have a taste for the macabre, give it a pass.

Since the 1980s I’ve been living on Vancouver’s West Side, where everything from homes to halibut is pricey. Now I’m on the more diverse and cheaper East Side. This afternoon, I got a good dose of the differences at the 88 Supermarket, a mere six-minute walk away from Vancouver Cohousing at East 32nd and Victoria Drive.

Like a number of other shops on Victoria, the 88 has fresh whole fish, which are harder to find on the West Side. The supermarket also has an amazing variety of Asian and western foods at excellent prices. A neighbour at my Kerrisdale apartment building drives over from the West Side for the savings.

It’s much the same story all along Victoria Drive, which includes Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Cambodian, Burmese, Filipino, Vietnamese and Turkish businesses. For someone who loves ethnic foods, it’s a fun place to be. This morning, my yoga teacher Karen recommended the coconut shakes and Rickety Rickshaw Bowls at Chau VeggieExpress.

Organics are harder to find on Victoria Drive. At 88, I bought a clamshell of mixed organic greens, and they have a few other organic products. For more choice, I go to Famous Foods on Kingsway, a 12-minute walk or three-minute bike ride. There are other organic produce places more of a car ride away.

Victoria Drive has more attractions than places to eat and grocery shop. I get $7.99 haircuts at Ben and I’ve seen manicure-pedicure specials for $25. My bank, Vancity Savings Credit Union, and favourite drug store, London Drugs, are a short walk away. There are shoe repair shops, printers, bakeries and the South Vancouver Community Policing Centre, which is offering us a safety audit. We’re in a great neighbourhood.

Most Jewish holidays have a similar basis: They tried to wipe us out, we survived, let’s eat! That’s certainly the case on Purim, a one-day merrymaking holiday beginning Wednesday evening. The most iconic food for Purim is hamantashen – cookies in a triangular shape like the hat of the villain of the story, Haman, filled with prunes or poppyseed butter or chocolate and other confections.

I’ve already got a head start on the eating part. This morning at the Jewish Community Centre I picked up two dozen baked as a fundraiser by Na’amat Canada, which has been enhancing the lives of women and children in Israel and Canada since 1925. In the photo, Ruth is displaying a box of hamantashen.

I sent a dozen to a close family member back East so they’ll arrive by Wednesday. Then I came home, made a fresh cup of coffee and began munching. There must be something soporific about hamantashen, because I dozed off a few times for a good part of the day.

Purim is different from other holidays in a couple ways. One is that the story as told in the Scroll of Esther never mentions God. It commemorates the deliverance of the Jewish people in the ancient Persian Empire from destruction in the wake of a plot by Haman. The good guy in the story is Mordechai. The other thing that makes Purim different is that in celebration people drink until they almost can’t tell the difference between the good guy and the bad guy.

I got a bit of a head start on that too this evening when Heather invited her cohousing neighbours to come over for wine to help her celebrate her new job. Two cups were enough. I got drunk a few times in my 20s, ending up with my head over the toilet, and never want to go through that again.

It was our first monthly community meeting onsite at Vancouver Cohousing. After four years of driving across town or travelling from as far away as Vernon and the Sunshine Coast to meet, we could simply stroll out of our new homes to the common house.

Before getting down to the business of the meeting, we spent a full hour checking in one by one on what is bringing us joy and calling for our patience as we settle in.

It was emotional for many of us, especially some of the parents whose kids can now so easily get together with other kids without all the organizing that usually involves. We heard vignettes of folks encountering friendly faces and fresh-baked scones in the courtyard, playing hilarious games of Pictionary in the common house, and the simple pleasures of watching children having fun.

What has called for patience includes excessive exterior lighting, noise from busy 33rd Avenue, massive amounts of cohousing email and the time it’s taking to unpack boxes and really get settled.

The business of the meeting included an explanation from the finance committee about the extent of construction cost overruns and our options for paying for them as shareholders in our development company.

Noah talks about our construction budget issues.

We broke into the teams we’re on for keeping our community running smoothly. We looked at who is on each team, when we’ll next meet and what our priorities are. I’m on the external relations team, focusing on our relationships with our neighbours and the wider world.

The external relations team sets our next team meeting.

While adults meet, kids hang out in their spacious common house playroom.

At 9:30 pm PDT in the midst of Dances of Universal Peace, Amir’s cell phone alarm heralded the arrival of spring. We stopped and hugged, because it also marks Nawruz, the New Year celebrated by the Persians, Kurds, Baha’is, Zoroastrians and others.

These spiritual dances were a wonderful way to bring in the new season. With beautiful melodies and simple movements that even I can do, I love attending these events. There’s another one Sunday evening at 7 at Presentation House in North Vancouver. The common denominator in both events is Alloudin (at left in the photo below), who is helping lead them.

The Vernal or Spring Equinox refers to a day at this time of year when daytime and nighttime are of approximately equal duration. We’ve been in spring mode in Vancouver for several weeks. The Cherry Blossom Festival that starts March 24 is hoping that at least some of the 50 varieties of flowering cherry trees here will still be in bloom.

My favourite memory of cherry blossoms was one spring in Kyoto, Japan, when the fallen petals formed piles like snow drifts that I could run through and kick into the air.

• • • • • •

After Shabbat morning services, I invited my rabbi, Hannah, and her husband Ross to visit me at Vancouver Cohousing. They were amazed at the mountain view when they entered. The last few days I’ve taken advantage of the clear skies to capture some images.

The Lions taken with a telephoto lens set at 280 mm. The Lions refer to what looks like mountain lion ears.

Taken at 130 mm.

With no telephoto.

Shabbat Shalom. In Jewish tradition, on Friday night we sing the song “Shalom Aleichem” to welcome the Shabbat angels with words that mean “Peace unto you . . .  angels of the Most High.”

For me, Shabbat is a time to reflect on what I’m grateful for. I want to honour an anonymous angel who quickly responded to my appeal on Wednesday to help Miriam Nankwanga (photo) with a donation so she can switch to a school where she can boost her science results, and go on to become a teacher. Miriam is one of the five Abayudaya Jewish orphans in Uganda – where I lived 2009-2020 – supported through my chant and Shabbat dinner events. Now 18, Miriam lost both her parents to AIDS in 2007.

“Don’t we all know some angels?” Rabbi Elaine Rose Glickman asks in the Jewish Journal of Los Angeles. “The preschool teacher who carries our toddler around all morning when he’s having trouble separating from us. The pediatrician who stays late when our child is sick, or who calls after hours to see how she’s doing. The coach who sees our tween not just as a player, but as a unique and special individual. And when we’re exhausted after a long day, but take the time to eat dinner with our children, to look them in the eye and ask about their day, to snuggle with their favorite book and a blanket instead of retreating to Facebook and Instagram . . . well, just maybe we are angels as well.”

Soon I’ll be launching a crowdfunding campaign to raise about $700 for bicycles for the other four of our students who walk many miles to and from school. I hope more angels will find their wings.

The aluminum front gate has closed with a great clang since we moved in. Because my home is near the entrance, it jars me every time. It especially rattles Nicole, since her bed in her unit is only a few feet away. There was some improvement once I sent a plea to members to close the gate gently and a small sign was placed there. But it was easy for people to forget to use their hand to close it.

Today a hydraulic closer was installed and, Halleluyah, the gate shuts quite quietly now. In the photo, I’m celebrating with Nicole and her sons Emiliano and Alejandro.

It’s a little thing, but it means a lot to the quiet enjoyment of our new homes. Much more noise than I ever experienced in Kerrisdale is the new normal, but I’m getting used to the sounds of children playing and cohousing neighbours laughing when they meet.

A little sunshine after days of rain also helped brighten our day. The mountains are amazing when we can see them.

Vancouverites’ collective amnesia is also amazing. We can have two weeks of rain, and then, once the sun comes out, we’re asking, “Rain? What rain? I don’t remember rain.”