“I’m going to kill you and your dog”

I’m sitting here physically exhausted. Just drained. I was sitting with Gilbert in the car pulled to the curb crying.  I feel so alone, afraid, old, vulnerable and unprotected.

This afternoon I was walking Gilbert , my old blind cockapoo with damaged back, in the DTES.  The sun was out. I’d just had lunch.  Children were playing in the park. I was returning to the clinic where patients would be waiting. Sometimes people wait months to see someone like me. The health care system is broken, mismanagement and poor leadership.  Like all the fewer and fewer front line clinicians I feel like the proverbial little Dutch boy with his thumb in the hole in the damn.  Any day the flood is going to happen.  Maybe it has and people are just being distracted by climate change projections about a dubious future anywhere from decades to hundreds of years away.. Right now the threat is here. The threat is now. The threat is real.  People are dying daily in the DTES. 

Today there were three ambulances on my way to work on Hastings. The half hour commute has become an hour to two hours each way. This day a fire truck blockaded half the main thoroughfare, at another traffic jam it was just one ambulance, lights flashing, and at the next several police cars and an ambulance. There ‘d been shooting the night before here. Three incidents, some one killed and others targeted.  I confess I was a bit anxious about going to work.  

I’m pretty tough. I’ve been shot at, knived, faced down countless guns, fought my way out of several street flights younger. I’ve been falsely accused by psychopaths too, a couple of times. Last year I refused to see an addict who threatened to kill me and my dog. He threatened to kill the lawyer’s dog, his boss’s dog and eventually after a year of texts still threatening to kill me , despite the police being involved it only stopped when he threatened to kill Justin Trudeau. The College of Physicians and Surgeons implied I provoked him by refusing to see him.  It was the old politically  correct arrogance.  An administrator with comparatively  no clinical experience think grandiosely if they’d ‘handled’ the situation, the guy wouldn’t be upset. The politically correct position is  ISIS murderers, pedophiles, rapists just need a little counselling and they’re be good neighbours. I’ve worked with psychopaths and sociopaths and lost that illusion with experience.  I’ve surged 40 years of the toughest assignments. 

The pit bull ran at us the full length of the block , no leash, no master, just a full out charge.  It came straight at me.  Ears back.  Like a land shark. I positioned myself with Gilbert directly behind me.  He knew there was danger. The dog lunged in the air at me and I took his charge right on my thigh I’d positioned to take the charge. He bounced off. He circled real quick trying to go between my legs at Gilbert.  A pit bull or bull terrier can kill a small dog with one bite and shake. I knew a biker with a pit bull who bragged about his dog killing little dogs with one bite and one shake.

I have a woman in my practice. She was passing some street people going into the store. They man and woman were sitting with the pit bull. The pit bull lunged at her grabbing her arm.  She’s in her late 60’s. The crushing bite has permanently disabled her. She has a ‘claw hand’, constant pain and can’t pronate or supinate the forearm.  It’s quite disturbing visually.  The street people and their dog disappeared. No consequences. There was no victim’s compensation. I saw her for the night terrors and despair. She’s been so depressed and tired. It’s a year now and she’s living on a pension, permanently disabled, can hardly pay rent and can’t afford much beyond bare essentials. Vancouver is an expensive city. Canada doesn’t treat its old well. 

The dog was circling trying to get past me . I was blocking him with my legs. What I presumed was his master came charging down the street screaming at me. I’m partially deaf. I didn’t hear what he was saying.I was shouting ‘Get your dog on a leash. It’s against the law to not have your dog on a leash.”

Suddenly I’ve now got this young bully right in my face standing full in front of me , the dog still circling behind me, watching for a change to get at Gilbert,  two bully assailants.

 He’s screaming, “Did you kick my dog? If you kicked my dog I’m kill you.”

“Your dog attacked me and now you’re threatening me.”  I said with shock and disdain.

“My dog didn’t attack you.”

“Yes it did”. It was still there off leash looking for an opening to get at my dog

“I”m going to kill you and your dog.” He said. 

He was standing arms up, odd position. I was not moving, staring him straight in the eyes, defensive mode, I hate to think how many times I’ve been in this position.  So many bullies attacking us as kids. The biker knifing me when I was 16.  The gang with the chains and knives threatening us northern Ontario.  The guys swinging billy clubs at me. Getting shot at. Guys with knifes, guys with guns.  I escaped the muggers in Athens only a couple of years back. I could run fast then. First lesson of self defence. Run!  But my knee hurts today.

 I ‘m wary. The kids’ a punk. I’m steady ,ready. He has his arms up chest high away from his body. I just watched his eyes but figured later that this stance was supposed to attract my eyes. He had one arm out and the other cocked for a punch. I saw it with my peripheral vision. Didn’t fall for it. He seemed a little perplexed. The look that goes with guys who figured they had an easy target. Probably attacked other old guys before. Predator, only picks easy prey, normally hides in a gang.  

He also seemed to not mean to say “I’m going to kill you and your dog.”  He seemed to register that he’d ‘technically threatened me’, whereas his first statement ,”if you kicked my dog I’m going to kill you “ that was said with confidence. That was okay. He might have been a jail house lawyer but he did say “I’m going to kill you and your dog”.  I reacted to that, getting even more ready. I take the first punch always and luckily don’t have a glass jaw and mostly get the last punch. Still my mind is screaming I’m too old for this shot.

Then the thought flashed through my mind.  He’s gong to hit me and I’m going to hurt him bad and his dog’s going to attack me and Gilbert who can’t even see the assailant just smell him. I might just kill his dog to protect Gilbert. Then I’m going to go to jail. I’m going to go to jail for defending myself.  I had no doubt I’d ‘win’. Men can size each other up.  Even as an old guy the punk wasn’t dangerous alone. But he could come back with his ‘gang’ . I can’t fight gangs any more. I’d fought against several guys late teens taking down three out of 10 with kicks to the face and knees to the head causing the other half dozen guys to let me leave. I walked through Harlan in my 20’s.  I’d been an athlete then. Now I’m old and fat and I’d probably beat him unconscious with my fists or do a hip toss , throwing my back out, and breaking my fingers so I couldn’t do surgery, play guitar or write reports. That’s what flashed through my mind. 

“I’m going to kill your dog,” he sneered.  He backed down. Turned began to walk away. His dog had headed back to what was a girl and their bike.  He turned to follow and looked back at me “I’m going to kill your dog”.  He said. So many people competing for Darwin Awards these days. 

He owned the city.  The police and citizens they’re the prisoners. The City Council doesn’t live here. They’re out in Elite World, somewhere in West Vancouver or maybe on the  Moon. Too many politicians stoned. They’ve got body guards and guns , criminal money laundering and drug dealing connections and lawyers on speed dial. The province is only less corrupt than Quebec whose owned by Mafia and Biker gangs.  

I”m nobody.  I’m not safe.  He put his dog on leash and then walked back saying he again was going to kill my dog. I phoned the police then.  I didn’t trust him not to turn around and come for me.  But It was over. The altercation was winding down. As the call was going through he was getting further away. He was going.  I was shaking. That’s what happens after adrenaline with me. I’ve saved lives and then been shaking in hospital corridors after the resuscitation of some adult or child.  

I remember stopping this guy slapping his pregnant wife on the maternity ward , threatening to kick her in belly, her crying. I strode in and pushed him out of the room and he pushed back and then left. The police arrived, asked me for a description. I thought he was 6 foot tall. It was in threat mode.  We make ourselves look big. The English wore tall black fur hats on their heads for that purpose. The guy was something like 5’5”.  I shook after that, embarrassed.

The police call was awful. I felt liked I was being interrogated , told them the street corner, that he was going away from Hastings by the park but then the guy wants to know north or west or towards Richmond and I can’t see the mountains and I don’t know what his girlfriends’ wearing. I’m in self defence mode watching his eyes for movement ready to defend against kick or strike. I’m not an outside observer.  The questions upset me.I felt sick to my stomach. I’m feeling faint and nauseous.  Then the guy asked if I wanted to talk to a police officer.  I thought he was. But then he told me he was the ‘call taker’.  I was too fed up, him asking me questions I didn’t have the answer to and didn’t want to discuss. 

But then the guy cut in front of me with the dog and a friend a block ahead of me turning on to Hastings. Talking on the phone I’d been slowly waking back to the office. Now he’s between me and the clinic. I say I want to talk to the police.  I’m afraid. I’m afraid for Gilbert. I’m afraid he’s now  going to be waiting outside my work with other low life. I’m reminded of the bully in high school who waited for me caught me with a brass knuckle under the eye,  before I took him down. The police arrived. I’ve still got the scar. The fear seems cumulative. I didn’t used to be so disturbed. I think I took things better younger. I’m not feeling good now. 

I got back to the clinic. I told administration what had happened and that I was going home. I’ve stiff upper lipped my life and I just can’t do it any more. I ‘m too old for this shit. I was still shaking. My voice was quivering. I couldn’t help anyone and no one could help me. I say, I can’’t work here any more I don’t feel safe.  I’ve been unhappy with the dangerous drivers on the commute, the hostile neighborhood, everyone so easily offend and now an outright threat. I figure it’s some kind of warning.

I haven’t felt safe in Vancouver for a few years.  It’s the atmosphere.  I can’t get it out of my head the greatest police woman I know  saying “I left when the city wouldn’t let the police fight crime but wanted us to record crime.” She also said “we’d catch criminals and the judges just let them back on the street.”  I see all these guys who have had gun crimes and they’ve done a very little time. Then  they all tell me they have guns. Meanwhile I’m treated like a criminal as a law abiding citizen with a hunting rifle who done more exams and tests and been vetted more than medical school. I’m just a hunter and I’m treated worse that criminals with guns. There’s no deterrence. It’s Bizarro World Canada.  I’m afraid. I never got over a Canadian paying a terrorist who murdered an American soldier $10 million dollars. Crime pays in Canada.

My colleague talked to me as I headed out for my car. “I’ve phoned the police too and it’s the same things.  Always this whole list of questions about me like I’ve done something wrong and nothing happened .” He’s supportive, worried I’m okay. I’m not okay but I appreciate his concern. 

I couldn’t drive home. I pulled over to the curb and cried. I’m old and afraid. I’m afraid I’m old and vulnerable and I can hardly protect my dog. Im grieving more these days. I’m afraid I can’t shake it off. I’m afraid I don’t feel safe in Canada. I feel so vulnerable. Just driving a few blocks in the DTES a half dozens people walked across the road in front of me. If I hit them I’d be held accountable.  The tent city is just there. There’s cops and drugs on crime going on right there on the street, Insite is near by and the cops can’t even go there because it could threaten the addicts so my patients tell me that’s where all the big drug deals go down.  “The cops can’t go there.It’s the criminals own place. No surveillance.”.  

The guy swaggered.  The dog swaggered.  The girl, well, they like ‘bad boys’. Makes them feel safe, even if they kick them around. Eva Brawn world .  Good girls are so passé. The new world order. He swaggered. He could have hit me. It was in his eyes. I truly felt that if I looked a little weaker and hadn’t kept saying “get your dog on the leash”, he’d have lifted his leg and pissed on me. He’s top dog in this area. I’m little dog.  He’s got the City, the Politicians, the Media and he’s beat on others  before. He’s probably spit on his share of cops too.

I was glad when the cop phoned me. He game me confidence. Felt reassuring. 

“I’ve been working down here for the last 25 years and it’s probably the worst it’s been.”

“Three guys murdered yesterday scared me,” I’d said.

“Only one guy shot and two other incidents. It was bad but not as bad as that. We’ve got the guys description and we’ve got some guys who will keep an eye out for him.  If we find him we’ll call. He sounds like he’s got away with bullying other people. If you charge him we can deal with it as a criminal thing. You’d have to pick him out of a line up. He did threaten you and that’s criminal. “

“I felt if I defended myself I’d go to prison.” 

“Only if you use unreasonable force.”  

“What’s reasonable when you’re defending yourself”.  

“Yea there’s that.”

It don’t trust the government.  They’d asked me if the guy with the dog was white and I’d said no. Maybe aboriginal, not black.  But there it was ‘white priviledge’ and ‘social justice’. It was in the tone. Old white guys are in season. The judges aren’t reasonable. If anything they’re afraid too.  Afraid to offend one of the social justice groups.  I felt alone. I was thankful the cop sounded sane.  

“It’s not as bad as it seems. I can tell you.  There’s enough of us on the police force who know what to do but we’re not allowed.”

I immediately think of New York . The city is amazing. Overnight they had good city administration and the city became great again. Safe, clean. A tourist attraction.   I trust this policeman..  He’s not a politician. He’s down to earth and reassuring. He’s not blowing smoke up my ass.

“Thanks. Okay. You’re a good man.” I say.  

I got out of the car again. I’d taken the call on the Mini speaker phone. I felt light headed. I sat down on a staircase with Gilbert. It was a busy loud street and I saw the little guy was afraid. All the noise. Old blind dog. No doubt he worried about me. I cried again. I’m exhausted. I’m just exhausted. I felt weak and clammy. I had to slow and settle my breathing. Reassure Gilbert. Sit for a bit. I still didn’t feel right. 

I got the text asking if I was coming to work tomorrow. I figured I would. I don’t think I can take Gilbert downtown anymore.  I don’t know how parents with children can live in Vancouver.  I know my friends with toddlers are terrified of the criminals ,the needles everywhere, the gangs. 

 I ‘m afraid for my dog. Seeing that pit bull charging full speed right at me and Gilbert,  then this guy threatening me.  All he had to do was put his dog on a leash. 

I’m home now and tired and afraid and men don’t cry. Tough men like me ‘buck up’ .  

I just can’t seem to get it together. I keep crying. IF it’s not the bullies in government with their ‘lick above, kick below’ mentality, it’s little shits on the streets picking on the old guys. I’ve got to pull myself together..

This too will pass. 

First United Church, DTES, Vancouver, "Church without Pews"

I was in the downtown east side, shivering in my jacket and sweater togue and scarf,  looking at the people lying on the street  in the below zero cold today .Some are brain injured. Some are schizophrenic.  Some are addicted. Some are just lost with nowhere to go. Mental illness and Addiction are diseases. Homelessness isn’t a glorious life plan  It’s not a career choice.   I wondered if we would have a similar attitude if people who had had strokes and heart disease were lying on the sidewalk.
The song, “Streets of London” came to mind. It could be called ‘Streets of Vancouver.”
Though I’ve long worked in the area I’d never before entered First United Church.   There’s usually a lot of people standing around it. It obviously provides a lot of service, spiritual and social.  A safe place in the city. A good place, like Carnegie.  Salvation Army.  Union Gospel.   Places where people can rest.  The DTES is not an easy life for most. Only the drug dealers and predators fair well.
At First United I was surprised to see beds in the church. Passing it hundreds of times I’d always thought it was a church with pews and altar.   It’s now a shelter for 40 men and 25 women. Dormitories for months with pets allowed.  A strange assortment. No pews.  The sanctuary an open area with tables and comfortable chairs.  Coffee and breakfast are served at different times.
 I heard about Rev. Jim Hatherly before I saw him.  Staff and clients I was chatting with sang his praises. A lovely lady there was called a ‘listener’ .  I liked that. So many people end up in the DTES after they’d been silenced one too many times.
Rev. Jim Hatherly happened along as we were talking . He was  delightful in person.  Handsome, casually dressed, calm, attentive, caring. He has a great smile.   “This is the sanctuary still,” he said.  It looked more like a university coffee room meeting place, some asleep on the chairs, others reading, a few talking quietly in a corner.  It did feel like a sanctuary.  It truly was a sanctuary. We were also standing on  sanctified space.
 “When the temperature dropped a few years back we took 300  people off the streets,” he said.   The fire department had come by after that.  They’d  had to comply with safety measures. “They were concerned about fire hazards.”  I gathered that’s when the pews began to depart.
It was moving to be here. To see what Christians,  goodly godly folk were doing.
“We still have the chapel but the pews are gone in there too.” he smiled. I’d told him that though I’d passed by many times I’d never come in. I just always thought the church would  have pews..
“I was married here,” he shared. “This sanctuary is still used for services.” He’d worked in street ministry years past.  It turned out too,  he'd lived in Winnipeg.  He’d  worked at Deer Lodge Hospital..  We both had studied with Dr. Carl Ridd, United Church Minister and University of Winnipeg Professor.”He was one of my most important inspirations.”  Rev. Hatherly shared. He’d been that for me too.   University of Winnipeg was where I studied before teaching medicine at University of Manitoba.
“The former minister here  was my inspiration too”, he said.  Then we both spoke lovingly of our first greatest inspirations, our Christian mothers.
When he'd told me he’d worked at Deer Lodge Hospital in Winnipeg, I’d told him how my mother had been so well cared for there at the end. . I’d been especially impressed  by an Ethiopian Coptic Nurse. Because of her I’d become interested in the  Coptic Church.  I'd wanted to Ethiopia or Egypt  ever since.  I  might well  soon, before more Coptic Churches are destroyed and Coptic Christians killed and persecuted.
We chatted then about denominations,  the often silly things that divided people and  Christians. While I’m Anglican today, I once was United and know the The United Church of Canada has always been the most inclusive and welcoming of Christian churches.  Good works though, like those being done here, are what brings  us all together.  
 It was a wonderful visit.  Especially considering the season.
There was a peaceful feeling in the presence of Rev. Jim Hatherly.  A bit like the feeling I had meeting Bishop Tutu. The selflessness and hands on caring of godly men and women of action:  a joy to know.   I was uplifted by my visit to First United Church.
It’s so sexy for the  jetsetter  sort who are giving millions of dollars to celebrity causes.  Meanwhile  here in the core of the city,  Rev. Jim Hatherly and others like him humbly do the daily heavy lifting, the hewing wood and carrying water.  I left good just to be there..
At St. Barnabus Anglican Church we’d lit the first Advent Candle this week. It stands for Hope. First United is that light of hope here in the DTES.  I could see that just the heat in the building, running water and indoor plumbing were such a gift for the people of the street.   Not only that ‘listener’s and inspiration.
I thought of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.
I had to get back to the Dr. Horvath’s Docside  clinic where the patients would  be lining up.

Portland Hotel Society Scandal

Portland Hotel Society Scandal reminds me of the phoney doctor who worked in a community. He gave all the criminals letters of recommendation. He flew anyone anywhere on tax payer money. He doled out narcotics and benzodiazepines.  He was everyone's friend.
No one got well.  The truly sick people were highly suspicious. Within months there was a realization that what he was doing was extremely, extremely expensive and odd.  He was caught.
Crack pipe dispensers and 3 million dollar a year drug club to shoot up street bought heroin.
Mark Townsend and Liz Evans have made a lot of friends by 'buying them stuff'.   He's given heroin addicts a place to shoot up. He's not interfered with the DTES gangs who haven't had to worry about  losing customers by their getting off heroin.  With all the 'high life' going on while the old heroin users are dying, off the young are stepping up to lead this 'life' or death. The drug dealers have always supported Mark Townsend. They're his biggest fan. All of his programs  promoted a 'culture of addiction'. 
He's even ?'bought'? politicians, though I don't know if that's politically correct to say.  Bought is such a telling word .  However the Canadian media wouldn't think twice about using such language for this sort of thing outside Canada.  In a similar Asian or US scandal , every Canadian reporter would be "asking questions' about  'extortion' and 'kickbacks' because the 'people need to know." .  This would be especially true if "mismanagement" occurred  in the evil 'energy industry'.  But aren't this self proclaimed 'do gooders' even more wrong when they're caught doing serious wrong.
The NDP Jenny Kwan appears before the camera paying back what she says her 'husband', she's 'separated' from 'misinformed' her about. "I never knew" she said.  And all the reporters go, "oh, she never knew. See she's crying. " Yet, only last year for weeks CBC hounded the Prime Minister's office claiming shrilly in every manner that PM Harper must have known what was going on with the Duffy expense 'scandal'.   Did Mulcair know Jenny Kwan was using tax payer money to go to Disneyland?  Now Jenny Kwan is going home to be with her children. Ahhhhh, ooooo.  I'm surprised there wasn't a stuffed animal or a bunny rabbit.
Was the attack on Harper 'racist' or 'gender biased' or the lack of attack on Jenny Kwann, racist or gender biased.?I never can tell anymore with the media so obviously partisan.
It struck me as the most two faced deceitful presentation for a feminist. If Duffy had 'cried' would he have got off more easily? This isn't the age of chivalry, yet there we still accept 'tearful'  presentations by women blaming their husbands  and everyone 'coos'.  Does that mean a man can blame his wife now?
Thank God, Christy Clark doesn't do that silly shit.  Already sick by what this bozo group was  doing  the Kwan pathos nearly made me spew.  I actually could have accepted 'mismanagement' and 'misappropriation' but when this drama queen act came on it really screamed 'cover up'.  With all the conspiracy theories out there, I never take notice until there is an actual cover up. You can't see the conspiracy theories but the cover ups seems to stick out like a sore thumb.
Am I the only one that asks, were any of  these persons connected to the gangs and drug pushers downtown?
Am I watching too many episodes of  Criminal Minds?
The CBC skewered Duffy and the Senate for their 'mismanagement of funds ( ?theft" - I love white collar language. If the rest of us do mismanagement or misappropriation it's called theft)   Martha Stewart and Conrad Black went to jail for that sort of thing but I sure didn't see the media getting all soft and sweet with either of them.  The comedians have however done as good a job with Mark Townsend and Liz Evans as they did with Mayor Ford.
Maybe I listen to CBC going on and on about Ottawa too much.  Then watching Law and Order and CSI and NCSI  I couldn't help but ask, if Jenny Kwann got  $35,000 from one business, were there any other business 'shook down' for money. Oh, sorry, was it possible 'her husband' was 'shaking down' others or, damn, there goes the language problem again.  "Inviting donations', is that the term?   Naturally, the NDP should be with the RCMP looking into the overall finances of Jenny Kwan as a public 'servant' like they did with the senate. Shouldn't they? Will the tax department be looking into Mark Townsend and Liz Evans like they certainly would look into me or you?
But obviously I watch too much tv.  They seem so willing to do 'financial audits' of 'individuals' when those individuals are involved in 'extortion' or "theft" or "kickbacks" or sorry, there's that language problem again.  I can't help but think of thieves thieving.  Mismanagement Mark Townsend.
I just can't figure how you can spend $800 on a hotel room running a supposed 'charity' and 'non profit' business. I asked a few of my profit based "dirty capitalist" friends and none of them had ever spent more than $150 on a hotel room. $800. Wow. That boggles the mind.
So how come we have so much 'mismanagement' in government. This 'unprofessionalism" and lack of 'morality' or even better lack of 'basic ethics' is not tolerated among doctors, accountants or believe it or not, lawyers.  So why should these 'managers' for government funded businesses get a pass on their 'books' when my lawyer and accountant must 'pass' mine.  Is the accountant for the Portland Hotel Society going to be speaking to his professional body about his 'oversight' or 'lack of oversight'.  Is the lawyer for the Portland Hotel Society going to be speaking to the Law Society about his or her 'oversight' or lack of oversight.
Mark Townsend, Liz Evens, Small and Kwan are just a small part of the 'nest' that makes up a 28 million dollar business.
There were doctors involved in the Safeless Injection Site. As a physician I couldn't help but wonder if those physicians will be at very least asked to confirm their 'innoscence' in this thoroughly repugnant scandal. 
Terry Lake, our Health Minister is to be admired for the extraordinary political risk he has taken making sure the provincial audit saw the light of day .  My question is when the RCMP will be tasked to address what really is missing.  Hundreds of thousands or  millions.  We  only got a peak at what the public purse was paying for.
I just can't help but think that the Canadian Tax Department would be all over me if I didn't even keep records as the audit shows over and over again these folks failed to do.
The darkness of the Portland Hotel Society and how far down the management chain the corruption and taint goes is appalling.
 Now that said, the front line workers are awesome. This is what is so sad about the DTES. The workers down here are truly amazing.  The homeless and addicts are also trying very hard to get help in a tough economic climate in a very expensive fast changing city.
And I know with regard to 'all the usual suspects', the Mark Townsends, Jenny Kwans, and Liz Evans, I'm supposed to think, "live and let live". That's why I'm thankful for the Terry Lake.
Thanks to Terry Lake there's more likelihood today the money will get to those who need it most.

Ranier Provisions, Vancouver

Ranier Provisions, 2 West Cordova, Downtown East Side Vancouver.  This is the most pleasant restaurant I’ve been in for a while.  Very down to earth and simple with great food.  Inexpensive.
There was also a delightful pianist playing upbeat music, not too loud, just right in fact.
The servers were attentive but not intrusive. Everything was clean and pleasant.  Pleasant is the word I keep coming back to.  I really enjoyed my nutritious delicious meatball sandwich lunch, really. Coffee was strong and aromatic.
And quick. I confess, I’m usually in a hurry and worry about the sit down restaurant as opposed to the fast food joint. This place was quick but had that no hurry  feel  you don't get in fast food.
They sell stuff too, which is the ‘provisions’ part of their sign.  Another time I'll check out all the good foodstuff they had for sale on the wall. Made me think of a 19th century ‘provisions’ .  Well done, Rainier!