Snow Days

 

Snow has fallen for two days, at times lightly, at times heavily, with fat flakes that splat against the window. I don't know the official accumulation, but in our garden there is at least 12 inches. Children (including our grands) are ecstatic: snowmen and snow-forts appear on many front lawns. Hills, even slight ones, bear evidence of gleeful sliding and trudging back up to do it all again. On my walk today everyone I met had a big smile and commented on the gorgeous snow. I know there are those who detest snowy days, but I believe they are huddled in their homes and not out enjoying it. It is treacherous to be driving - with so few snow days each winter, our area is not equipped with sufficient plows and removal equipment. People stay off the streets as much as possible. 

I find the snow incredibly beautiful. I love the way it transforms the landscape into something magical, blurring hard lines and reducing colour to contrasts of black, grey, and white. There's great conviviality as everyone clears off sidewalks and driveways, and takes time to lean on a shovel and converse with the neighbours. It's a jolly time. 

I'll leave you to enjoy these snowy scenes from walks taken in the past two days, and a few from my garden, accompanied by some favourite snowy day quotations.

A snow day, literally and figuratively,

falls from the sky

unbidden,

and seems like a thing of wonder.

Susan Orlean

Winter came down to our home one night

Quietly pirouetting in

on silver-toed slippers of snow

And we, we were children once again.

Bill Morgan, Jr.

Out of the bosom of the air,

out of the cloud-folds of her garment shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare

Over the harvest-fields forsaken

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

Longfellow

But now she loved winter. Winter was beautiful "up back" - almost intolerably beautiful. Days of clear brilliance. Evenings that were like cups of glamour - the purest vintage of winter's wine. Nights with their fire of stars. Cold, exquisite winter sunrises.

L.M. Montgomery

Snow was falling, so much like stars

filling the dark trees, that

one could easily imagine

its reason for being was

nothing more than prettiness

Mary Oliver

And since it's Valentine's Day, what's better than coming home to a cup of tea and a pretty cupcake (created by a daughter) to savour in front of the fire. 

Rainy Day Monday

Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful,

for beauty is God's handwriting.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Outside my window this morning the rain drips down. I see delicate translucent beads hanging from each branch of the bare maple tree. The street is shiny wet, with rivulets trickling down along the curbs. I rather dread going out. Inside, my back is to the fire as I type. A large mug of tea is close by.  

I am thinking about walks in the woods and how fresh everything smells, and the quiet sound of slow rain on fallen leaves. 

During the past week I did some major cleanup. We have a storage room over the stairs and it tends to extreme untidiness over time. It looks wonderful now and I discarded all kinds of things - some to the thrift store, many papers to the recycle (I'm getting rid of my teaching materials), and some to the garbage can. We shifted furniture while my dad and son-in-law were here to help and that's required some cleaning out of drawers. My sewing room has also been sorted and organized, although there is one bank of drawers that I still need to get to. It feels great to start the new year with tidiness. 

(For those who will think that I should pass on those teaching resources to others, most of what I have and use is now digitally filed and readily available to my colleagues.) 

We've met some interesting people recently. Our rental suite has been vacant for a couple of months while we've painted and did some minor repairs. It was lovely to have the extra space over Christmas, and we put up an advertisement just before our guests arrived, planning to rent it for January 1. Rental spaces are very hard to find in our town and we had so much interest that we took the ad down after 24 hours. We interviewed 4 possible tenants and it was really hard to choose between them. In the end, we chose a couple who are brand new to Canada. She will be studying at UVic, and he will work. 

Another couple with a small boy also wanted to rent the suite. They are new to Canada, as well, and she will be studying while he works. Seems to be a theme. We had this couple over for dinner last week. I made a Mediterranean Chicken dish that I liked so much I made it again on Saturday night. The recipe is on my other blog and available if you click the link.

Over the weekend our daughter and youngest granddaughter came to stay. Miss Iris is the sweetest baby, and so content. She looks at the world with big serious eyes and has to feel comfortable before engaging in smiles and play. Just before they left yesterday she was sitting in her high chair completely engrossed with a piece of packaging. The sun shone for a brief moment and illuminated her, so I grabbed my camera and took a quick photo. 

As we contemplate another year in a world where much is broken, I leave you with these words from J. R. Tolkien, 

"The world is full of peril and 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 still grows, perhaps, the greater."

May Days at Home

"May and June. Soft syllables, gentle names for the two best months in the garden year: cool misty mornings gently burned away with a warming spring sun, followed by breezy afternoons and chilly nights." Peter Loewer

9 pm. Light lingers long. This evening, for the first time, I walked without a light sweater or jacket. It feels like summer. Beautiful days. Yesterday, Tim and I walked to the top of Christmas Hill. Butterflies flitted here and there, lots of them, chasing each other among the grasses and trees, alighting on the ground from time to time. Painted Ladies, gorgeously designed. 

Radishes are ready in the garden these days. And strawberries. I like the long French Breakfast radishes. They've become part of salads, dipped in melted cheese, and eaten plain. I like them sliced on buttered bread, too, with a bit of salt.

In my mind, a bit of pickle elevates a salad or a sandwich. On Saturday I did a quick pickle with red onions and another with radishes. Ready the next day for whatever takes my fancy. 

The jar holding the radishes is old - my mother used it for canning when I was a child. It has a glass lid and she used to buy rubber rings for sealing. I don't know if rubber rings like that are available any longer. The old zinc screw top still works like a charm. 

Lilacs and bluebells have given way to peonies, ruffled beauties with a delicate, sweet fragrance. There are plenty to come in the garden, and a bouquet of them is opening in the house. 

I found a spot for a new rosebush - a David Austin Gertrude Jekyll. Each evening I observe how the buds are forming and will soon open with the lovely warmth we're experiencing. 

The blueberry bushes are loaded with fruit. I'm amazed at how quickly the plants go from bare sticks to fruit. Spring and summer are so urgent in the garden after the long dormancy of autumn and winter. 

A couple of years ago a yellow poppy appeared unbidden in a corner of my garden. I let it linger and it rewards me with a spot of brightness in what is otherwise a bit bare at this time of year. A lovely bit of serendipity.

Two new little items for my kitchen - a Garlic Store by Mason Cash. It has air vents and a lid with a little hole in it for lifting. The copper oil dispenser is perfect for drizzling olive oil on vegetables for roasting, or salads. I like the shape of both items. William Morris' advice to "have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful" is something I like to adhere to.

Finally, one last rose - this a John Cabot climbing rose that really climbs. I cut it way back each year and each year it rewards me with bloom after bloom. This is the first. 

I leave you with these words by Mary Berry: "Without doubt, without hesitation, I choose gardening over the gym. I can't stand going to the gym. It doesn't appeal to me at all. Give me gardening every time." Ha! Me, too. I tried a gym once, but gave it up after not very many visits. 

November Celebrations

Last night we moved the clocks back to Standard Time. As I write, it's nearing 5 pm and darkness begins to cloak the landscape. Trees toss their branches, littering streets and gardens with leaves in golden shades. Soon we'll close the curtains and withdraw into coziness.

Over the past day or two a Pineapple Express from the South Pacific blew through bringing heavy rain, wind, and warm temperatures. In my garden roses continue to bud and bloom, although the full flowers droop under the weight of rain. The pink dahlias produce enough flowers for me to clip a small bouquet each week. Yesterday I discovered a few raspberries, not as sweet as summer's fruit, but still "very tasty" according to a six-year-old who spent the night and enjoyed the berries with her breakfast. 

This hydrangea blossom clearly misunderstood the memo about November. She looks a little uncertain and young alongside the mature and weathered blooms. 

After a very wet night the sun streamed into the living room this morning. I like a tray on the coffee table for corralling things like coasters, pencils, and remotes. A tray is easy to pick up and move elsewhere if the table is needed for drawing, playing a game, or other important tasks. 

This afternoon we celebrated three birthdays that occur within two weeks. Our son made the cake and I wish I'd taken a picture of a cut slice. He made a Russian Honey Cake, composed of 8 thin layers that have a taste similar to graham wafers and a whipped cream/sour cream filling and icing. It was delicious! 

We had the doors and windows open for much of the afternoon and all went for a walk around 2:30. Nine of us climbed Christmas Hill from where the city spreads all around to the Sooke Hills in the west and to the ocean to the south and east. 

Watching the grandchildren run and skip (one brought along her skipping rope), clamber on rocks and climb trees made me smile. Edna Jaques said, 

Go out, go out I beg of you

and taste the beauty of the wild.

Behold the miracle of the earth

with all the wonder of a child.

The woods were polka-dotted still with leaves clinging to branches, like gold coins among brown twigs. Soon, however, the wind and rain will strip the branches bare and the stark architecture of nature will be revealed. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, where we have a new host, Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. Thank you to Maggie, who hosted #157 weeks of Mosaic Monday, and a thank you to Angie for taking up the challenge. 

Sermons in Stones

Got your life jacket (aka personal flotation device, or PFD)? One of the best parts of a boating vacation is time to read. Long hours bobbing gently on the water, lost in another world, with periodic times of looking up to admire the scenery. 

I don't like to take library books on the boat for fear of loss, so I collect possible reading material for quite some time, from used book stores, friends, or the occasional new book. Here are some of the books I took along on this trip:

Britt Marie was Here (Fredrik Backman)
The Little Paris Bookshop (Nina George)
A Royal Pain (Rhys Bowen)
Totem Poles and Tea (Hugina Harold)
Mrs. Roosevelt's Confidante (Susan Elia MacNeal)
The Death of Mrs. Westaway (Ruth Ware)
If You Want to Write (Brenda Ueland)
The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper (Phaedra Patrick)
I'll See You in Paris (Michelle Gable)

and a few more. Lighthearted, easy reading, for the most part. On vacation, I read about a book per day. Oh, how I anticipated the reading I would do on this vacation. I read 4 novels in the first 5 days. It was delightful. 

And then this happened....

I had been working in my sketch book, without my glasses, and decided I needed them. So I went to get them, and then tucked them into the front of my shirt to take a good look over the side of the boat (all sorts of interesting things float by), and quick as a wink, and almost as silently, my glasses slipped from my shirt into the water. We watched them disappear in about 2 seconds. 

Reader, I was sickened. A huge pit formed in my stomach. My expensive progressive lenses were now being worn by a fish. Or a crab. Or something else that simply would not appreciate them.

"It's not the end of the world," I told myself. At least I can still appreciate the scenery, sketch a little, and take photos. Tim felt almost as bad as I did and he expressed it well when he said, "For you, reading is like breathing." 

There was still another week of boating planned. What on earth would I do? 

I did a lot of thinking. And a lot of looking at the scenery. 

The Duke's words in Shakespeare's As You Like It came to me as I pondered life 

"And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 

The "sermons in stones" phrase was particularly meaningful as we chugged alongside immense stone cliffs rising like walls from the ocean floor. Such powerful forces created and continue to alter these formations, forces created by the Creator God. 

That pointy bit above looks as though it were ready to fall off and plunge downward. Sights of earlier landslides, 50, 100, 1000 years ago were everywhere.  The landscape is continually changing. I'm relieved it didn't fall while we were there. 

 Life clings to these rocks, finding hold in the smallest crevice. The continuous lap of waves, and the endless rising and falling tides shape the landscape, carving out deep fissures and smooth pools. 

The above photo is of Lacy Falls, now mostly dry. Fresh water in the Broughtons is tannic, or deeply stained by decaying vegetation in the forests. In turn, the water stains the stone. 

Some of these rocky islets resembled huge sleeping beasts, prone on the sea floor, their backs curving above the water level, with a heavy growth of barnacles below the high tide line. Doesn't the above photo remind you of vertebrae?

I didn't arrive at any exciting breakthrough in my thinking, and I actually got so desperate to read by the end that I did manage, in small bits, to read another novel. I chose the largest and clearest font and had very strained eyes by the end of it, but it was worth it. I can't imagine not being able to read, and I'm so, so thankful for my eyesight. 

As soon as we arrived where there was cell coverage, I called my eye clinic and made an appointment. The new glasses should be here next week. So it's been a week of not much reading at home, too. I do have a pair of very old lenses that help somewhat, but reading and computer work isn't very comfortable. 

Lesson learned - get a strap for my glasses on the boat.  

If you're still here I thought you might like to see my little galley. The shelf next to the water faucet folds down to create more space in the cabin. There's a sink, a two-burner propane stove, and a small oven. A few cupboards. On the other side of the doorway (the frame is just visible) is a chest freezer/fridge. For long trips we use it as a freezer, for meat, bread and making ice, and have a well-insulated cooler for a fridge. We change the ice daily and were able to keep milk fresh the entire time we were out.

We eat well. One day Tim caught a small halibut and cleaned it on shore while a mink watched him from behind a rock. The scraps were left for the mink and we enjoyed a delicious dinner of fresh halibut in Alfredo sauce (from a jar), sauteed zucchini, and cauliflower mash. We also have a small barbecue and cook much of our meat there. 

In the late afternoon, when the sun streams down, we might go for a little exploration in the dinghy and come back to a cold drink. I brought along a pot of fresh herbs - mint, basil, and parsley. A little mint, muddled with lime, with a bit of simple syrup, topped off with chilled club soda made a refreshing drink. 

I brought along a bag of frozen, raw, chocolate chip cookies and baked them one morning when we were waiting for the tide to change to enter a lagoon. What a treat to have with hot chocolate. 

Here's one last photo of rocks - with a bear! He was heading off into the trees after foraging on the rocky shore. 

Reading - is it like breathing for you, too?

A Change in the Air

Last weekend's weather felt like a summer's day. Hot sunshine. Warm breezes. On my Sunday afternoon walk I picked up a few autumn leaves and brought them home to reside on the hall table. I pulled out the October quote by Anne of Green Gables, created by a friend for my birthday last year. And on the chalkboard I wrote, "Welcome Fall." 
 

Neighbourhood sights include this home with window boxes filled with red geraniums. I admire them each time I pass by.
 

Soon this old car will be tucked away, sheltered from the wind and rain. Autumn seems to have taken my welcome sign at face value for today there's a change in the air. Less warmth. The sun not quite so bright and a bite in the air. 
 

After school today I kicked my shoes off, made a cup of tea and sat down. I could have marked papers, but instead I played with Image Chef, making a mosaic including things I love about autumn. It could be an educational tool according to the website, so I don't feel bad at all. 

What do you love about autumn? Is there a change in the air out your way?

A Bit of Spring Cheer

It's time once again for Vee's Note Card Party. This is such a fun event. I chose spring flowers as a theme and all of these flowers have been seen recently on my blog, although I chose different images for some.

I collect quotations and had fun paging through my book where I keep them. Some of them are written on scraps of paper and lie loose in the pages. I keep meaning to glue them in before I lose them. Do you collect words?

And finally, the "box top" for the set of "note cards." For all of these photos I used the Vignette option in Picasa and then the Polaroid option. Some of the Polaroid borders turned out larger than others and I can't figure out how to make them all uniform. Anyone have any ideas? 

Join the party at Vee's - pleasant, interesting and kind people attend. You'll be made very welcome.

Ebb and Flow

A year ends with gratitude for God's faithfulness through happy times and times not so happy. 

A year begins, shiny with promise. What will it bring? 

"So beautiful is the still hour of the sea's withdrawal, as beautiful as the sea's return when encroaching waves pound up the beach, pressing to reach those dark rumpled chains of seaweed which mark the last high tide.

We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanence, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom..."  Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea

Happy New Year with prayers for a year filled with love and growth.