Life These Days

 

I only listen to the radio while driving. Occasionally I'll sit in the driveway for a few moments to finish a segment. Last Saturday I heard that multiple ferry crossings were cancelled due to an impending windstorm. Tim thought it would be a fine idea to go down to the breakwater and watch the waves. So we did. 

This gull perched on the breakwater railing looked for the waves just as we did. Instead, the seas were calm. The evening was lovely, with pinkish skies, little wind, and few people. I think they were all at home because of the windstorm. Out in the strait two large ships sat at anchor. We watched another round the point and slide into the strait, a container ship headed back across the Pacific. 

 

As we were leaving, a pilot boat left the harbour. We guessed that it was headed for the container ship. Ships coming through the Gulf Islands from Vancouver must have a pilot who is familiar with these waters on board. Once a ship is in the strait, no pilot is needed, and are taken off the ship to return home. As we walked back to the car the pilot boat zoomed across the water and slid in beside the container ship. We were too far away to see the pilot descend into the boat, but soon the boat returned to shore. 

And the wind? It showed up later that evening, howling and whistling around the corners of the house. Fierce indeed. 

A grocery store handful of tulips is nearing its end. I cut off the stems a couple of times as they grow and grow into ungainly length. My parents visited this week and we enjoyed a drive up island and lunch out. We'd hoped it would be overlooking the water, but instead we overlooked a yellow digger working beside the water. 

I made a couple of rice bags for friends this week. Heated in the microwave, they are warm and comforting when one feels chilled or has a sore neck or back. One friend is having work done on her house and has no heat in her bedroom. I suggested taking the heated bag to bed with her, as I do if it's very chilly out. I make the bags from flannel or linen, and then make a cover for them for laundering. 

We are expecting a sudden rise in temperature over the next few days and I am thrilled. I'm looking forward to getting out in the garden a bit. That's life around here these days - pleasant and ordinary. Filled with small pleasures. How are things in your corner? 

Mellowing Days

 

This morning dawned still and cloudy. We turned on a few lights at 7 am. Whispers of change are in the air - a bit more wind, temperatures that require a light sweater, and leaves that are losing their brightness. 

We are very thankful for cooler temperatures. On southern Vancouver Island we have not had measurable rain for weeks and weeks. Last week a wildfire began close to the town of Ladysmith. My husband was very busy all week working on evacuation plans for long-term care homes. Fortunately, as of this morning, the fire is contained and the seniors' residences are safe. 

I picked up a case of peaches last week and they were so hard that I wondered if they would ripen. I set them out on sheets of newspaper, socially distanced from each other, and within a few days they were perfect. Sweet and juicy. Okanagan peaches are the best! I canned seven pints and we will easily eat the rest fresh. 

On Saturday evening we enjoyed dinner with friends. They have a beautiful garden with the back border a forested park. We sat outside, with cozy wraps and a tall heater going, talking and laughing until the fat moon rose high in the sky and illuminated everything in a clear light. 

My contribution to the meal was a Cherry Almond Tart. Cherry season is all too short and I thought this was a good way to bid the season a fond farewell. I combined two recipes from Laura Calder's Paris Express. 

After Tim left for work I sat at the table overlooking the garden with my tea and yogurt, berries, and almonds. The light was so dull that I lit the first candle of the season. I'm hoping for many more sunny days, but enjoyed the stillness of this morning and the cheery glow of the little light beside me. 

The garden beckoned after breakfast. I fertilized the squash, pulled out the sweet peas (they've given me bouquet after bouquet this summer), pulled a few weeds, and cut more dahlias. They are so flamboyant! 

The rest of the morning (it's 10:30) is open and I think I'll do some sewing. This afternoon I'll be watching 2 little girls while their mother goes to an appointment. 

Every Year is More Beautiful

Spring has shown her sweet side in the past two days. Sun mixed with cloud, no wind to speak of, and gentle warmth that pours like honey onto my head.

We walk, late afternoon or early evening, through house-lined streets where tulips and daffodils nod their pretty heads and airy riots of pink cover bare branches. 

Along the path through the woods creamy fawn lilies (Erythronium) shine like stars. Only by crouching low do we see the details of stamens and pistils. She's a shy flower that charms and entices the passerby to take a closer look. 

Miner's Lettuce (Montia Perfoliata) grows in these woods, too. An edible plant, its crunchy sweet leaves and stems make a fine salad. I pick just one round leaf from a plant growing on a steep bank, tucked into a tree stump where I know a dog wouldn't have graced with his presence. 

We stop to admire the magnificence of a magnolia tree in bloom for a few moments. 

"Everything is blooming most recklessly, if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of night," wrote Rainer Maria Rilke. Rather than shrieking, I rather think it would be music, a harmony of richness, tentative at first, then swelling into fullness. 

Returning home, I notice the rhododendron in the front garden that bloomed not at all last year is getting ready to put on a show.

How quickly the days and weeks and months pass. Term three is ended; one more to go. I love my job and interacting with students, but I'm pulled homewards, too. When I arrive home there's never enough time or energy to do the things I'd like to do. I know it's a matter of adjusting expectations, but I want it all.

John Burroughs wrote "I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see." I'd like to teach for two more years and then retire. Again. 

In my garden the blueberries are forming flowers, each one, if pollinated, and watered, will grow into a round fat berry that will roll into my bucket with a little tug of my fingers.

A little patch, very small, of violets has seeded itself under a rosebush. I hope it spreads a little more each year. 

I feel a little blue just now, for no reason in particular. I've been thinking about people I love who are hurting, and of the uncertainty of life. I find some comfort in Tolkien's words, 

"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater." 

Rosemary in bloom in the late afternoon sunshine. 

I've always found the book of Psalms comforting. David wrote so honestly about his feelings. He whined, complained, grouched, despaired, and then turned towards his God. "All my longings lie open before you, O Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you" he writes. How comforting to be known.  

What a rambling post this has turned out to be. It's like a rather aimless walk. I'll close here with a question for you. When blue days come, what do you do? 

Between the Years

While the rest of Canada and much of the USA are enduring deeply cold weather, we on the "balmy" west coast watch the rain pelt down. It's very grey outside, dull and heavy. The above photo was taken from my kitchen window - you can see how leaden the background is. 

So let's cozy up by the fire with a mug of tea (I can make coffee, if you'd prefer) and some treats. The photo shows my breakfast bowl of yogurt, berries and nuts, but that's long gone and it's time to break out the cookies. 

There's some Cranberry Orange Shortbread left, and Nanaimo Bars. My daughter made the shortbread. So pretty, and tasty, too. Help yourself. Take two. There's more in the tins.

The paperwhites bloomed beautifully, but didn't seem to have much scent this year. They were starting to fall over and the blossoms dry out, so I gave them a haircut. I don't want to miss any of this bright greenness that is such a wonderful contrast to dull outdoors. Twinkle lights on the mantel help, too. 

This is a photo from Christmas Day. So pretty. 

How has your 2017 been? It's been a good year for me, mostly, although aching loss and unfulfilled deep hopes have been a part of it. For the first time there was no parcel to mail to Tim's mum. No phone calls. We miss her. The deep hopes are carried forward into another year and we trust the God who loves us. 

Several days before the snow, there was frost. This is an untouched colour photo. Monochrome morning. 

Are you doing anything for New Year's Eve? We won't be at home this year. I took a few fast photos just before the guests arrived to our party earlier in the month. I love cheese, even the smelly blue stuff. I thought the cheese board looked so pretty. But I probably will do things differently next time. The mingling of the nuts wasn't a good idea - some are allergic to tree nuts, others to one kind or the other. 

The spread in the bottom corner is easy to make, and looks festive. Layer goat cheese with chopped sundried tomatoes, pesto, and fresh herbs in a clear glass container. I used a cylindrical vase/candle holder from Michael's. The clear sides show the layers well. 

In this week between the years, I hope you are enjoying some moments of quiet reflection. I know that I am. There's not much being accomplished around here. The beef stew mentioned in my previous post was eaten last night as we went out to dinner with friends the previous night. I finished watching The Crown last night. Today I'm doing a little laundry and will head out to do some errands. Reading, some stitching. Nothing pressing. Heavenly!

How to Slow Down

A hallmark of current life is busyness. A frequent reply to "How are you?" is "so busy." We try to pack a lot into our days. When we add in special celebrations, such as Christmas and Hanukkah, the busy factor ramps up to what can become frenzy. Sometimes I think we wear busyness as a badge of honour. 

I'm no exception - there's always far more that I'd like to do than there is time or energy. And I'm learning the value of slowing down. I'm not a "fix-it" kind of person, but here are some things that help me. 

1. Wake up slowly. Our alarm clock goes off at 6:30. I try to make my first conscious thought one of gratitude to God for the day ahead. Then I lie in bed for 5-10 minutes, sometimes talking with my husband, sometimes semi-conscious. Leaping out of bed in the morning has never been my usual style. 

2. Eat slowly. I tend to be a fast eater. Consciously putting my fork down between bites and taking more time is beneficial both for enjoying the moment and for eating less. 

3. Walk more slowly. I'm a fast walker, whether in the shopping mall, through the halls at school, or out getting exercise. When I feel like I've got too much on my plate, and there's just too much to do, instead of going more quickly, I deliberately slow my pace. This has the effect of calming my mind.

4. Get outside. Fresh air, even when it's cold and wet, both invigorates and calms me. I saw a brief clip on television recently about a doctor giving a prescription for "eco-therapy" to someone who suffered from stress and depression. The prescription included listening, observing, and breathing. 

5. Check out for a few minutes, when possible. Reading is the way I escape. In a rather backwards logic, I discovered years ago that when I was hurried and didn't feel like I'd ever catch up, taking 30-60 minutes to read a novel caused a mental retreat and regrouping that was always beneficial. When my children were small, I rested and read during their naps and quiet times. Invaluable! 

I don't pretend to have all the answers. Do you have ways to cope with busyness? Do share.   

Everyday Happenings

Yesterday afternoon I stepped out onto the porch for just a few minutes to capture the light on these forsythia leaves. Their autumn color definitely harkens back (or ahead) to the yellow blossoms of early spring. 

My weekend activities were waylaid by the above. It arrived last week and I resisted for a couple of days, but then gave in to "just starting." Well, we all know how THAT goes. Housework and sewing went out the window until the book was finished. I did finish it before returning to school on Monday or I don't know what I would have done.

Quite frequently I catch a student with a book on his or her lap while I am giving the class instruction. I tell them to close the book and pay attention in a no-nonsense tone. I'm inwardly sympathetic, for I was one of those students, trying to secretly read while the teacher nattered on and on. And I was often caught, too. 

Now that the book is finished, I am concentrating on the sewing. Thanks for asking how it's going. Tim was away at a conference last night, so I stayed up waaaaay too late and just have to insert the sleeve linings and hem the lining. That's tonight's work. Hopefully. It's turning out well. 

Arriving home from school, I made a cup of tea and lit a pumpkin scented candle. The magazine was purchased when I bought groceries earlier this week, but it's not yet been opened. That's a delight to anticipate. I'm not entirely undisciplined!

I just swallowed the last bit of tea - rather cold now, and it's time to think about dinner. Chicken breasts with sauteed mushrooms with peas in a light sauce, some coucous or quinoa, a simple salad.

Were you ever caught reading while the teacher was talking?  

On a September Evening

A fine drizzle of rain falls outside my window. I watch the street light flicker, go off, then come on in full force. Tree tops sway in the light wind. It's September 1 and feels like fall. 

Teachers are in school this week; classes begin next week. Meetings and prep time are cut short by the need to organize classrooms after some major and minor renovations over the summer. Brand new science labs, but the construction spilled into almost every classroom. 

Today I helped move English book sets. Teachers were ruthless, boxing up discards of sets that hadn't been taught for years. 

I came home exhausted, glad that dinner was simmering in the slow cooker. Before school I had also prepared the dry ingredients for Platz, and the treat came together quickly. Plum Platz, a favorite from my childhood. But today's version including varying flavors - a row or four of plums, one of peach, with apple and raspberry completing the pan. I used up fruit on hand.

Now, I sit with a cup of tea and a glowing candle while darkness closes in. 

Sinking into the Quiet

Purchasing stock in Kleenex* would have been a good thing. Since Sunday I've been sniffling and reaching for tissue after tissue. Ugh. I've done very little. But I think I'm feeling a little better today (I think I am, I think I am, I think I am.)  

In a burst of energy this morning I moved photos from my camera to my computer. These Wine-poached Pears with Creme Anglaise served as dessert at my parents' place last week. Some of the pears were overripe, some under. C'est la vie. We're into gluten free desserts at family gatherings these days due to a family member recently diagnosed with celiac. Ho hum.

As I was feeling even more energetic, I moved the photos from my phone to my computer as well. We had dinner at Les Faux Bourgeois with our daughter and SIL. Daughter ordered Moules Marinières (Mussels in a white wine sauce) and we all shared. All of our meals were good, but if I ever get back there, I'm definitely ordering this dish. The fries were the best I've ever had outside of Belgium and the mussels and sauce simply delectable. 

Since I was feeling so spectacular this morning, I took my camera along when I dumped the kitchen waste into the compost bin. We've had a very mild winter and many of the shrubs still have green leaves. This jasmine shows the effect of a little frost and rain.

All that activity has left me exhausted so I'm back to sipping lemon honey tea with my feet up on the couch, tissue box to hand. Sniffle, sniffle.

The Writing on the Tea Cups

Here's a closer look at the oversize tea-cups shown in my last post. A number of you asked for a closer look at the script. It's Italian, which I don't know, but I can figure out a few words. For a long while now French phrases are everywhere so I was surprised to see these in Italian. And I ask - Is Italian the new French?

I'd like to study another language (in addition to French and Spanish) and I'm torn between German (my heritage) and Italian. The latter would be easier, but I've always been partial to German, too. My parents didn't speak English until they went to school in Canada and would speak it occasionally together when I was growing up. Mostly to keep secrets. But they had suffered teasing and worse as children and determined that their own children would be fully Canadian and wouldn't need German.

That went on a bit of a rabbit trail. 
 

Tim bought me a tall glass vase containing stones and three paperwhite bulbs. I added water and here's the result. Deep magic!

And another view. Do you think they will bloom by Christmas? The instructions said to add a couple of tablespoons of clear spirits at this stage to prevent legginess, but I don't have any and I'll probably not purchase it just for this. If I did, I could make some vanilla with the rest.

Teaching calls continue. Half a day yesterday. Today. I mentioned to Tim this morning that my work is directly related to the health of the general population. He agreed and said that it's not even winter yet and the hospitals here are overflowing.

So. Languages - do you enjoy them? Any bulbs poking little green shoots up at your house?  I'm off to work and will chat later.

Saturday at Home

Pale blue sky shows through the grey morning light, welcome after a night of wind and rain. I snapped this from my dining room at 10 am. 

The china hutch. I'm becoming fonder of plain white dishes, especially for serving pieces. But I'll always add a bit of colour - here it's blue, although you might notice a tiny band of red on the two oversized cups on the top shelf. They are a recent acquisition thanks to a birthday gift card. 

Soon I'll add greenery and a little more red - the holly berry bush is loaded this year.
 

Most of the day was spent in the kitchen, baking. The Pecan Toffee Bar recipe can be found by clicking on the link. It will take you to my recipe blog.

The baking is for an event with some of my husband's work colleagues. I offered to bring a tray of goodies so that's what I worked on today, not knowing if I'll be called in to work again next week - it's cold season and there's a doozy going around. I taught every day last week in the same classroom.

How are you all faring? Escaping illness so far? I hope so. Tim and I have both had the current version of a cold and we're glad it's behind us.

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Judith of Lavender Cottage Gardening. 

It's Time

The last of the summer tomatoes. They've ripened on newsprint in the laundry room. Today I'll trim the bad spots and roast them together with pungent onions, fresh garden herbs and a generous glug of olive oil. Goodbye delicious tomatoes.
 

An oddly shaped package sat on my doorstep when I arrived home from school yesterday. I recently won a giveaway on the blog Delightful Repast. Thank you, Jean. These silicone spatulas will come in handy now that it's time to think about Christmas baking. That blue makes me smile inside and out.
 

It's also time for Cranberry Pumpkin Bundt Cake. This photo is from last year although I made the cake again recently. For lack of fresh/frozen cranberries, I used dried and the cake is not nearly as good. I also used the tail end of my organic baking powder and I wonder if it's out of date. Baking can really be hit and miss at times.
 

I'm looking forward to some time to light this candle and spend some time on the couch, stitching away at a few projects. However, I've been called to teach every day this week. 

I introduced Romeo and Juliet to a class of Grade 9 students. Lots of setting the stage, so to speak, before beginning reading the prologue. 

One young man's reaction to the prologue was, "Oh Shakespeare! I'd like to go back in time and plead with you, 'Please, don't write anything. You don't know what you're starting."

I could only laugh and sympathize as I could see my own husband as a high school student having the same reaction. We're onto Act 1, Scene 3 and this same young man volunteered to read a part and succeeded admirably.

How do you feel about Shakespeare? Yea or nay? What kind of literature do you most enjoy?