August Long Weekend: Here and There

 

There: We sat on the rocks overlooking the water and chatted with good friends. McKenzie Bight is a fairly short hike, just over a kilometre or more down a steep trail to the water. Who goes down must come up, and I'm glad it was a comfortable day, temperature-wise. How dry the forest is and how lovely to sit and listen to the water lap at the shore and watch gulls soar so effortlessly. 

Here: I made a few jars of dill pickles. Recipes have changed over the years. I'm sure my grandmother never sealed her pickles in a water bath, but ensured the jars were very hot and the brine hot when poured in. I read recently that the blossom end of cucumbers should be cut off before pickling them, hence the flat ends in the jars. I really wonder how much safer it all is. 

Here: A Bolero rose from the garden where the hot dry weather has slowed down the number of blossoms on the roses. They are forming once again and I look forward to more blooms. 

Here: Peach season begins. They are so sweet and juicy, and the season is all too short. A salad with grilled chicken, sliced snowpeas, red onion, peaches, and basil hit the spot one warm evening. A squeeze of lime and swirl of olive oil to finish, and a slice of bread to accompany it - dinner done!

Here: Saturday was cooler, in part, I think, due to the smoke haze covering the sun. It was high and didn't really affect us much. I tackled our small walk-in closet, removing everything and piling the clothes on the bed and shoes and other paraphernalia on the floor. It's amazing how much stuff was stored there. I dusted and vacuumed, then steam cleaned, sorted through everything and re-organized. It took much longer than I'd anticipated, but looks neat and tidy. There's another rack to the right of the photo for my dresses and Tim's blazers, suits, and other coats. 

Looking at the photo I notice the dominance of blue in my clothing, and in his. 

Here: One of the hydrangea bushes is a vivid purple, and so full and lush. I've been cutting big bouquets and small ones. This is a row of clear bottles and vases lined up on the window next to our breakfast table, overlooking our patio. I love hydrangeas for their exuberant blooms, and of course, the blue tones. 

There: Sculptural dried grasses on the rocks overlooking the Saanich Inlet today. 

And so August begins. I'm always a little taken aback when this month arrives for although it's still warm and beautiful, it marches to the end of summer. Perhaps I'll feel differently this year knowing that I won't be going back to teaching after the Labour Day weekend. I do want to enjoy each day to its fullest and not be looking ahead too much. I've seen photos of Halloween and even Christmas on some sites and quickly scroll past them, for summer is so short and so beautiful that it warrants all the attention it deserves. 

How do you feel about August? Enjoy this glorious month!

Books, Beach, Flowers, and Cool Drinks

"There are few pleasures like really burrowing one's nose into sweet peas."

Angela Thirkell

Every few days I snip another modest bouquet of these fragrant flowers. They move from the mantle to the table to the windowsill so that I can catch a sweet whiff as I move around the house. Just now they are outside on the patio and that's where I'm headed. 

Last weekend we went on a little jaunt to Sidney Island, no more than 30 minutes from the boat launch. Our local families joined us for a wonderful day of sand, sun, and sea. These littles spent all of their time in imaginative play - creating a civilization because they were stranded without adults! I loved listening in on some of their conversations. 

When we returned, the boat launch was very busy and we had to bob about for awhile. The children were thrilled when a curious seal came within a metre of the boat, looking up at the children dangling their feet over the deck. (No need to worry, one would have to have extremely long legs to be in any danger.) Then, a fat fried egg jellyfish showed up and drifted by so that the children could see tentacles pulsating. One grandchild was heard to say that the wait on the water was the best part of the trip!

Some of my recent reading material. I have just begun The Salt Path, and just finished The Beekeeper of Aleppo. I keep mulling over the story of the Beekeeper - a Syrian refugee. Such horror and tragedy, yet the human spirit finds beauty where it can. I recommend it. 

The other books are light fare, easy reading for summer. 

Shrub: - a fruit syrup preserved with vinegar and mixed with water or alcohol to make a refreshing beverage.

There was a container of blackberries leftover from last summer in the freezer, and after reading about shrubs in a magazine, I filled a jar with berries, apple cider vinegar, a cinnamon stick, and let it develop in the fridge for a week or more before straining it, and mixing it with a simple sugar syrup. I add 1-2 Tablespoons to a glass of cold water for a very delicious and different drink. 

One hydrangea bush branches through the patio railing in a friendly manner. Sitting so close to it, I noticed the golden tipped stamens and delicate blue veins. Such intricacy of creation. 

I had another close encounter the other day. While working in my garden I heard a loud buzzing sound. Not ten inches away from my hands, a pretty Anna's Hummingbird fed on a pink zinnia flower. I stayed very still and watched her circle the bloom with her long pointed beak. She then moved to the next flower. I could see her heart beating furiously and hear the buzz of her wings. Amazing!

These are beautiful summer days. I hope that you are enjoying them, as well (or autumn days if you live in the southern hemisphere). Let's enjoy the seasons as they come, for they change all too quickly. 

Summer's Arrival

Summer. The mere word evokes sunshine and freedom. This strange school year of 2020 ended on Wednesday with a socially distanced ceremony and cap toss. It was complicated, but the students were pleased. Reports are finished and my dining room has been returned to its normal look minus the books and desk of the past few months. Today I took on the unenviable task of cleaning out the Home Ec room refrigerator - we had done it very quickly at the beginning of the pandemic - but there were still many items that went into the garbage today, followed by a good scrubbing.

As a child, I took swimming lessons in the summer. My younger sister and brother and I rode our bicycles 3.5 kilometres to the park where took lessons. If the lessons were early, oh how cold that water felt, and what courage it took to jump in. On hot days (and there were many) we stayed at the park with a packed lunch and spent the afternoons alternately swimming and relaxing in the shade before pedaling home and getting hot and sweaty again. Often our friends joined us on their bikes.

Summer days were meant for adventure. Up and down the hills we rode our bicycles, free as the wind. If we found a newly asphalted street we felt like we'd hit the jackpot. It was so smooth and quiet, unlike the rougher, older streets. Other days we biked to the edge of our subdivision where railway tracks snaked along the hills. Crossing the tracks we left our bikes on a wide shoulder and hiked into the dry sagebrush-covered hills, up narrow canyons where tiny creeks trickled. We clambered up steep paths that now make me nervous to think about. How fearless we were. 

Sometimes my mother would make a picnic dinner - deviled eggs, cold cuts, cottage cheese, pickles, and bread - and all five of us would pile into the car with our swimsuits and towels. Riverside Park had huge trees and cool green grass. There was a pool, but we often swam in the cold, fast-running Thompson river. How pleased I was when I could swim all the way to the dock that defined the swimming area. Shivering and panting I caught my breath on the dock before braving the cold and current to swim back to shore. 

On the hottest of days I hunkered down in the relatively cool basement, reading for hours and hours. My parents purchased a set of encyclopedias, black with red bands. Along with them came a set of children's books with various coloured volumes - poetry, mythology, fairy tales and more. Then there were The Adventures of the Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, The Wizard of Oz, Little Women, and the Reader's Digest. At the end of Grade 3 our teacher, Mrs. Simard, had us count up the number of A's in our language arts workbooks and gave a prize to the student with the most. That was me, and the book was Eight Cousins, by Louisa May Alcott. I read and re-read the story. I finally discarded the book just a few years ago as it fell into pieces. 

Summer time seemed to both slow down and speed up. In my memory there was immense freedom, and time to think, explore, and play. As a teacher, summer still holds much of the same magic - a variety of routine, more freedom to choose what to do, and time to play and create. Just now my mind is rather blank, and I like that. It's time for a bit of a break. There are nebulous plans, but nothing too urgent. Yet I know that summer days are fleeting and it's best to not wait too long to do what I want to do. 

Summer days - how do you feel about them? 

Summer Begins

The first day of summer break. School is behind me for two months and summer adventures lie ahead. I didn't sleep well last night, as usual on the first day of break. My mind has no place to settle without the structure of teaching the next day, and so many activities want to crowd in and say, "me, first!" It takes a few days to find a summer rhythm.

Yesterday we awoke to welcome drenching rain and a day that remained cool and cloudy. The thirsty ground drank it in and the hydrangeas curved low to the ground with the weight of water. They've bounced back and are ever so pretty. I have several bushes of them in my garden and each blooms a different colour although they are from the same stock. Varying soil conditions, I suppose. 

My sister-in-law from Alberta was out for a visit and the two of us went for lunch at Cary Castle Mews on the grounds of Government House. The setting is lovely, but the lunch was just so-so. After finishing our cups of tea we took a stroll through the gardens. White roses flourish against a stone retaining wall.

I've always loved the idea of a walled garden, ever since reading The Secret Garden many years ago. The idea of a private place, tucked away from public view appealed to me then, and now, but I'll also add the appeal of creating a warm and windless micro-environment to my grownup wishes. 

A few late Irises bloomed in the garden and I couldn't resist snapping a photo in honour of our newest little granddaughter of the same name. Three weeks old today. I was there for four days last week and hated to leave. She is utterly precious. 

Back in my own garden the first dahlia opened after the rain. Petunias bloom in profusion. The first flush of roses is almost ended, but there will be more. We're picking raspberries and enjoying them for breakfast, as well as putting 2-cup portions in the freezer. Unfortunately, we have a stink bug problem and picking them is rather tedious as each berry needs to be inspected. The nymph stage of the stink bug is rampant. I've been looking up solutions and will be attempting something soon. Fortunately, the bugs fall off easily when I shake the berries, but what a nuisance. 

It's a good year for lettuce - do you want some? The first tomatoes are formed, tight green orbs that will ripen into delicious soft redness, and we've eaten a few early blueberries. Oh, what a delicious time summer is. 

One Sunday afternoon Tim and I went out to East Sooke Park and walked the Coast Trail. It's such a beautiful place. I was especially struck by the fields of daisies blowing in the wind, a white undulating wave among the green.

More and more, it seems that bloggers are abandoning the format. I've contemplated leaving, but I enjoy words more than photos, and the slower pace that blogging seems to enforce upon me, and probably upon the few readers I have left. I've been so occupied with other things recently and am looking forward to having more time to write blogs and to read and interact with others. 

Today I'm looking forward to a visit from my eldest daughter and her daughter, followed by getting ready for a short boating expedition this afternoon. 

Tell me, what are your thoughts on summer? On blogging versus other social media platforms? On life in general?

Late Summer Musings

The rhythm of my years has been governed by the start and end of school for a very long time. My own schooling, followed by a few years off, then the schooling of our children, and my return to teaching have ingrained in me the thought of new beginnings come September.

However, before a beginning there must be an end, and so, to end the carefree days of summer, we took a short boating trip last weekend. After anchoring our boat in Annette Inlet on Friday evening, we ate a simple supper of soup and salad, read our books, and soaked in the peace and quiet. Later, I awoke in the darkness of early morning to hear the lovely soft sound of raindrops on the roof. Light rain fell for several hours and the clouds remained grey all day. 

After lunch, the rain eased up and we went exploring. I've long admired kingfishers and have despaired of capturing them with my camera. They are jittery birds who dart from perch to perch with a sharp chit-chit-chit to evade anyone coming close. I was thrilled when this handsome fellow remained in place long enough for me to get a few photos.

We walked through an abandoned orchard, now part of a provincial park, where apple and plum trees were loaded with almost-ripe fruit. This pretty doe stood under an apple tree, perhaps waiting for fruit to fall. Although the flies were terrible if one stood still, they didn't bite, but were highly annoying.

Cloudy skies mingled with remnants of wildfire smoke lent a melancholy air to the atmosphere. Grey skies, grey water. Landscape photos were not at all satisfactory, so I focused on the details. The golden grass speaks more of autumn than summer.

The path wound around the head of a small bay out along a narrow peninsula, through damp forests to rocky outcroppings covered with dry grass and weathered wood.

The trail to the light beacon is an old sheep trail, and I believe that sheep still travel it occasionally today. This bit of sheep's wool caught in a branch lends credence to that idea.

False dandelion seeds, perhaps a cat's ear, are ready to abandon the stem and sail away. 

Maple leaf samaras, called helicopters by children and adults alike, are almost ready to twirl downwards. 

Back at the meadow and abandoned orchard dozens of hawthorne trees are showing off their red berries. We were there once, in the spring, when every tree danced with pale pink flowers where bees were having a party. Here is the result of that party - food for birds for the winter. 

As the season changes, so does my schedule. No more days of getting up with several choices of what to do, or the choice of doing nothing much. I started back to work on Monday although the students don't return until after the Labour Day weekend. It's busy and exciting as we prepare for students next week, and I'm glad we had this quiet weekend beforehand.

Does the end of summer spell a change in schedule for you? 

The Last Summer Day

Here we are, almost to the end of September, and summer lingers. Shimmering days of warmth that cool to "pull up a blanket" nights create some of the most perfect weather imaginable.

I've picked raspberries twice this week, probably a pint each time, and today I gathered another handful. This is luxury. 

Tomatoes that just won't quit. I hate to say I'm getting tired of them, for in a month or so they will be mere memory. So I pick and roast and freeze against the dark chilly wet that will soon be upon us. 

The roses don't seem to have any inkling about the cold front that is moving in tonight. Growth abounds and I fear that their promise will be nipped in the bud, so to speak.

Today was so lovely I could hardly bear to be indoors. Since we are learning about activities we like to do in Spanish class, I asked them if they would like to go for a walk. Of course, they did! And so we spent 15 minutes walking around the block, enjoying this last summer day. 

Echinacea opens, a stalwart perennial that I planted a mere month ago. I bought one white and two purple and hope to have masses of blooms late next summer.

We celebrated two of the family's three birthday celebrations last weekend. I brought a tray of stuffed jalapeno peppers - pepper poppers. They are a treat most of the family enjoys. A bit fussy to prepare, but gobbled down in a hurry. It's always a bit of a gamble to eat them, for jalapeno's heat is highly variable, and there's no way to know until it's in your mouth.

There's been some reading, as well. Louise Penny's latest Inspector Gamache mystery Glass Houses, as well as the stack above. The Susan Wittig Albert stories are gentle mysteries set in England's Lake District, featuring Beatrix Potter! The historical timeline is correct, but the events and other people in the books are fiction. Even the animals play a part in solving the mysteries. I enjoyed reading Luard's book mostly for the essays written about each month of the year. 

I mentioned a Grilled Kale salad a few weeks ago and some asked for the recipe. I used this recipe for the grilled kale, but then added nectarines and goat cheese instead of the plums and ricotta, because that's what I had on hand. The dressing of balsamic vinegar, olive oil, a bit of honey, and fresh thyme was delicious.  Now I have a bag of plums in the fridge, so perhaps a plum version is next. 

The garden beckoned when I returned home this afternoon and I followed its siren call with my camera. The bees were busy, busy among the flowers, especially the oregano. 

Tomorrow, they who watch these things say, clouds and rain will prevail. It's best to enjoy the weather that comes along, for we really can't do much to change it. So out will come the cozy sweaters and blankets, and there will be tea and chocolate in the evenings, along with a lighted candle for cheer.

Beginning of August

What is it about music that so draws us in and can take us back over the years? Any genre will instantly evoke memory: the 1970s song "California Dreaming" takes me back to high school, hymns such as "Great is Thy Faithfulness" take me back to being a child sitting on a hard pew, Spanish hymns remind me of Ecuador days, "Moonlight Sonata" has me subconsciously measuring the tempo as I once did when learning to play it on the piano, and so on. 

Last Saturday Tim and I drove up to Chemainus Theatre for "Rock Legends" featuring the music from 1955 to 1975. I was surprised that I knew, if not all the words, certainly the tunes to all but one of the songs. Oh, it was fun!

One of the songs was from the group Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Randy Bachman currently lives on Saltspring Island, not far from us. Tim leaned over during the song and said to me, "Randy Bachman uses the same hearing aid clinic I do." And we giggled like teenagers.

In the garden, green beans are producing. This is the third picking, now tucked away into the freezer. Tonight's dinner will be a Salade Niçoise with more green beans. The zucchini is beginning to bear, as well. 

Concord grapes are fattening nicely. This is just the second year for the vines and we're pleased about the number of grape clusters. 

Tomatoes are slow this year. These are not ours. Summer calls for sliced tomatoes drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar with a sprinkling of basil leaves. 

We're in the midst of a heat wave and meal preparation is kept to a minimum. Lots of fresh salads and grilled meat. 

New blooms continue to form on the hydrangeas, even as other blooms fade. 

Wildfires have been burning in the province for quite some time now. This week, the winds changed to an outflow from the interior and our skies are layered with smoke. The hazy sunset last night was almost invisible because of the smoke. Visibility is greatly reduced.

As the sun drifted down it became less and less visible. You can see the line of smoke at the bottom of the sun in the photo above. Within a few moments the smoke obliterated it.

We thankful for crews from other parts of Canada, and Mexico and Australia who are helping fight the fires. My cousin was able to return to her home, and it's intact. 

In family news, one little grandchild has chicken pox (in spite of a vaccination), and is recovering nicely. We're hoping her brother escapes the virus. We're getting ready for a boating trip this weekend with our youngest daughter and husband. And finally, it's August. That came quickly. I'm not ready for summer to end, but I was in the store today and saw autumn decor. Horrors! I love autumn, but let's enjoy summer for it's all too short. 

How do things look in your world at the beginning of August? 

Summer Days

While walking these summer days, there are so many flowers to see. How colourful the world is just now. We had invasive morning glories on this property when we bought it 15 years ago, and I still find the odd vine sneaking up here and there, so I've been reluctant to plant any type of morning glory. The pretty colour of this blossom has me re-thinking that decision. 

Almost every meal these days must include kale. It's flourishing in my garden. I gave a huge bagful to a Dutch friend in hopes of thinning it out a little. Connie said that it's a Dutch custom to cook kale and combine it with mashed potatoes and eat it with a fat sausage.

I offered a big bunch of kale to one of our neighbours who was visiting with Tim. When I asked if they ate kale, he replied with an emphatic "NO." Do you eat kale? Cooked or raw? 

I've been making kale salads. One trick I learned is to massage the cut kale with olive oil and coarse salt to soften it a little. Then I add other ingredients (cucumber, carrot, blueberries, feta cheese in the photo above) and a splash of balsamic vinegar or lemon juice, finished off with a twist of ground black pepper. Kale salad holds up well in the fridge if there are any leftovers. 

On a recent walk I picked a bunch of Queen Anne's Lace and plunked it into a vase with sweet peas. It made such a pretty mix of colour. 

We have 8 hydrangea bushes throughout the garden, some in the front, others in the back. Each one blooms uniquely: dark blue, pink, purple, pale blue. The one above has a variety of different colours on the same bush. 

I took apart the floral arrangement from last Sunday's party in order to replace the wilted hydrangeas with fresh ones. The vase was crammed so tightly that I couldn't get everything back in, so I created two arrangements from one. Then, a photo shoot ensued, using the old fence as a backdrop. 

These summer days are so very pleasant. I found a quote - "I love how summer just wraps its arms around you like a warm blanket." (Kellie Elmore) Ah, summer. I hope yours is filled with lovely days.