Five on Friday: Early Autumn

 

This morning I awoke before the alarm clock. Cool air blew gently across my face and I pulled the covers up and snuggled in. Choosing clothes requires thought - long sleeves needed in the morning, but by late afternoon, something cooler appeals. I am glad to slip my feet into cozy fur-lined slippers early on, but go barefoot by noon. 

In the garden, cosmos hid the dahlias, so I ruthlessly cut most of those feathery plants down to their stalks. The dahlias thanked me by producing even more blooms, even though I'm not too fond of orange. 

Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet wrote Ode to Tomatoes, in which he writes, 

"the tomato, 

star of earth, recurrent

and fertile star, displays

its convolutions

its canals,

its remarkable amplitude

and abundance,

no pit,

no husk,

no leaves or thorns,

the tomato offers

its gift

of fiery color

and cool completeness"

These days, most meals feature the abundant tomato in some shape or form. Cherry tomatoes, simply roasted with olive oil, salt and pepper, then topped with crumbled feta cheese and browned in the oven, finished with a generous sprinkle of fresh, chopped basil, make a wonderful topping for French bread. It disappeared in a hurry!

"The air is crowded with birds,

beautiul, tender, intelligent birds

for whom life is a song."

George Henry Lewes

When I stepped outside this morning to see what I could see in my garden, a most melodious chorus of birdsong greeted me. Wittering and twittering from hedge and eaves, white-crowned sparrows filled the air with cheerful noise. I see them perched by the blackberries in the afternoon.

Our neighbour's thornless blackberries hang over the fence, and since I've cut back the cosmos, I've been picking berries, sweet with summer sun.

Not all is tawny golden. A fresh growth of chives is producing flowers, and marigolds and poppies have seeded themselves in the vegetable garden. I fear those tender little plants will have a rude shock in a month or so. 

"

"Go out, go out I beg of you

and taste the beauty of the wild.

Behold the miracle of earth

with all the wonder of a child."

Edna Jacques

These mornings tiny beads of dew sparkle on the zinnias. It is so lovely out there and so compelling. The sun urges me to soak in as much warmth as I can in preparation for the grey days to come. 

I've begun the garden clean up - pulling up the squash and green bean vines, weeding, always weeding, and picking tomatoes. This morning laundry and housecleaning will keep me occupied for the morning, but I hope to get out and work in the autumn sunshine this afternoon. 

Happy Weekend, dear readers. I hope you find time to enjoy this beautiful season. 

A Day for Ducks and Cake, and Then the Sun Shone

On Sunday morning the rain poured down and the wind blew. It was a wild day. Not a good day for the outdoor birthday party we had planned. Instead, we met under the shelter at Goldstream Park, built a fire in the wood stove there, wore gloves, and listened to the rain drench the forest. A pair of Common Mergansers were not bothered in the least and drifted on the river.

It was a Covid birthday, second time around for my husband. Last year we held a Zoom party, this year, his 65th celebration, we managed to see family face to face. He's a star and the best husband in the galaxy! I made a mirror glaze cake and won't be doing it again. It might look pretty, but I don't like eating the texture of the glaze at all. 

Little Miss Iris showed up in her yellow boots and a matching "muddy buddy". She splashed in the puddles, enjoyed the ducks and loved the balloons we brought for the party. 

Most of the photos I took were terrible because of the gloom under the shelter. Still, we had a great time together, and Tim felt well celebrated. 

Yesterday we woke up to a frosty clear morning. In the afternoon I spent some time in the garden. Red shoots of peonies are sprouting like crazy and I look forward to the blooms in a couple of months. This year, since I have more time to spend in the garden, I'm taking control of the lemon balm and feverfew that come up throughout the beds. I love the way they fill in gaps, but they can be bullies and just take over. 

The candy tuft is blooming, such a bright white, and behind it the grape hyacinths add colour. 

Our case numbers are rising dramatically and we have further restrictions for the next three weeks. Fortunately, our provincial guidelines have always been looser than other places in the country - hair salons and stores have been open since last spring after the initial shut down. However, now restaurants may not serve food indoors (takeout and patios are still permitted), gyms are closed (mostly), and the ski resort town at Whistler has been closed. High time for the latter, I say, for people from across Canada were coming to ski. 

But let us think of happier things, like tiny purple blooms on the rosemary bush and bright sunny days. This morning I'm going for a walk with my daughter along with Iris and Cora. This afternoon I'll sew and perhaps work in the garden for a time. 

Wishing you a day filled with beautiful moments.

 

Two More Sleeps

 

For a child, the few days before Christmas are fraught with excitement and anticipation. My brother and sister and I counted down the "sleeps" until the big day, and my own children did the same. As an adult, I count down via my list. Is everything done that needs doing? Now, just two sleeps before Christmas, everything is well in hand. 

The cookies are baked and plates of them delivered to driveways across town, with short, chilly visits at a good distance. Gifts are wrapped and delivered. Since we can't be together for Christmas this year, my daughter-in-law had the great idea that we could all exchange a food item that is "Christmassy." Hot crab dip, a savoury cheesecake, gluhwein and cardamom buns - doesn't it all sound delicious? For my part, I made Tim's mother's fruit salad, some chex mix, candied pecans, and plates of cookies. A mother can do a bit more, can't she?

Since it's just the two of us, we won't be using the dining room table for our meals, but sit by the window at our breakfast table. We'll watch the birds eating at the same time. I bought a piece of fabric and hemmed it to make a new tablecloth to gussy things up a little. 

The linen napkins are ironed smooth, softly folded, and stacked ready for use. As I ironed this little pile, I reflected on years when the pile was much higher. It will be again, God willing. 

A pearl bead garland encircles the dining room light fixture and from a certain angle, frames the wooden nativity set. On Christmas Eve we'll watch our church service on line. These past few days the sweet old Christmas carols have rung throughout the house as I cooked and wrapped. 

Tomorrow I'll do a quick tidy up of the house, and finish a few things in the kitchen, including a Buche de Noel. I normally make a chocolate one, but this year I'm doing one with vanilla cake, lemon curd and raspberries. Plus lots of whipped cream. 

On Christmas Day we will open stockings, then have breakfast and read the Nativity story from Luke, and open other gifts. Perhaps a long walk will follow, then dinner à deux, perhaps a movie and reading. There will be texts and phone calls and a lovely sense of contentment and joy. Different, but still celebratory. 

I wish all of my readers a wonderful celebration of Christ's birth and much joy. Merry Christmas!

The Last Friday Five of November

 

1. Last Saturday Tim had an eye checkup downtown and while he was there (his eyes were dilated so he couldn't drive), I wandered around a bit. It was too early for stores to be open and there were few people around. The Cathedral looked very pretty in the grey light, especially those blue doors. I don't remember them being that colour before, but I haven't been in the area for awhile. 

Between the Cathedral and the graveyard runs a short street lined with tall trees and benches. A bit of colour remains in the photo above, but if those trees are anything like ours there are precious few leaves left. 

From the bedroom window on the second story I look down at the the circle of leaves that formed under the acer maple and it almost glows with vibrant colour. 

2. A noisy, scrappy flock of Pine Siskins showed up at our feeder. They are small but aggressive birds who don't like sharing with others. 

This Pine Siskin peers suspiciously around at the Dark-eyed Junco that just landed. We've seen Chestnut-backed Chickadees, Spotted Towhees, House Finches, Sparrows, and Nuthatches recently. 

3. I've noticed a few blooms on the large hydrangea bush turning a silvery purple colour that stands out against the burgundies and browns of the remainder of the fading blooms. 

 

4. Here we are at the end of November. One month until Christmas. It doesn't look promising for family get togethers so we are planning a festive time for two. 

I made a comment on another blog that received some attention and I thought I'd say the same thing here. 

Regarding the pandemic - Our Provincial Health Officer, Dr. Bonnie Henry is a wise and compassionate, and very qualified doctor to be in charge during this time. I am so very thankful that the pandemic has not become a political issue here as it has in other places. Dr. Henry says that restrictions are not intended to stop the virus, for that is impossible at this stage, but to protect the most vulnerable, and to protect our health care system. 

One way to gauge the effect of a pandemic is to look at the excess death rate. Death is part of life and every country has an anticipated number of deaths. However, excess deaths are just that - deaths in excess of the expected number. A simple online search reveals that the UK had 70,000 excess deaths this year, and the USA more than 200,000. All excess deaths are not attributed to the coronavirus - there may be deaths due to lack of seeking medical attention, or overdose deaths. In the earlier part of the year, until September, in Canada the death rate actually declined, likely due to people staying at home more and not engaging in risky behaviour. 

It's a complicated issue requiring complicated measures. I love Dr. Henry's constant urging to Be Kind, and to act together to combat this virus. 

5. If you are still reading, here's a beautiful bloom from my Christmas cactus. There are few blooms on it and I'm enjoying the ones there are. 

This weekend I'll be setting up the Advent calendar and wreath. I'm still sewing pajamas - I've procrastinated this week and did some other things. The vast majority of my shopping is done and I might begin baking. I did make the Christmas Fruitcake last week. 

I hope that your week has been a good one, and that the days ahead will be filled with anticipation. 

A Friday Five: Day by Day

 

1. When there is a sunny break on the weekend, we like to go for a walk. One recent stroll took us to Sidney-by-the-Sea where beautiful Mount Baker (in Washington State) dominates the view on a clear day. I waited to take the shot until the container ship crossed into the photo. Those things are massive!

2. Another day we walked around the Bog for different views. It's an ever-changing mix of water, foliage, and birds. 

Our Island has been mostly protected from the pandemic with very few cases, until this week. Numbers are still low, relatively speaking, but two long-term care homes have cases, which means my husband, who works in administration, is working long, long hours. In addition, our Provincial Health Officer mandated new restrictions and we are not to gather, indoors or out, with anyone other than our household, until December 7. Schools are still in session, with continued strict protocols that seem to be working. I enjoy visiting with my children via Skype or phone. Little Iris, 17 months old, walks over to the computer at her house and says, "Nana, Nana" when she wants to talk to me. In other week she will have a sibling and we are all looking forward to that. 

3. I am so very glad that we can go outside and walk and enjoy the beautiful world we live in. What does that tree above care about the pandemic? Not a whit. As social anxiety rises, I pray for calmness. Here are some other things I'm doing to maintain my health, mentally and physically.

     * I limit my exposure to the news. Once a day is just fine. 

     * Creativity - I read recently, just a snippet, that handwork like knitting or embroidery calms the mind and body. I've got sewing projects on the go and love to sit down with hand-sewing. I finished one pair of grandchild Christmas pajamas this week.

     * Reading - I'm still finding that I enjoy simple stories with happy endings, and nothing too challenging. I'm looking forward to beginning my Christmas reading soon.

     * Exercise and eating well. Last night, it was 8:30 before Tim finished going through his work e-mail. We bundled up and went out into the crisp night air. Clouds reflected light from the city, but in the patches of clear dark sky stars shone as they have done for millennia. As we walked along quiet streets and through the woods, we breathed in lovely fresh air. Walking helps me sleep better, too. 

     * Prayer. Knowing that God loves me helps me keep a good perspective on life. 

4. A nuthatch at the feeder. They are so agile, and seem to prefer feeding upsidedown. Such pretty birds with mostly soft colouring, and then the contrast of black and white, like a standout accent piece on a woman's outfit. 

5. I am thoroughly enjoying my mornings at home. I baked gingersnaps this week - deliciously crisp and spicy. One of my favourite cookies. 

Outside my window a bit of rain is falling. I see a few stalwart roses and feverfew flowers blooming, but most of the garden is fading and looking scraggly. I do most of the clean up in the spring, leaving stalks and foliage over the winter as homes for beneficial insects. 

How is your weekend shaping up? I'm looking forward to doing a variety of things around the house - regular household chores, sewing, soup-making, and perhaps a little bit of pre-Christmas faffing. Wishing you the joy of gentle pursuits today. 

A Slower Pace

 

Autumn in a teacup. This photo, taken last year, reflects the season - a few hardy roses still blooming, berries on shrubs, and coloured leaves falling fast. 

On Tuesday I completed an intensive 10 weeks of teaching full-time. It was a marathon and although I will miss my Spanish 11s, I'll be glad for a slower pace. Until the end of January I'll have just two 70-minutes classes, a Spanish 9 and a Spanish 10. I'm looking forward to slower mornings and time to actually finish my mug of tea before heading out the door. 

Yesterday was the Remembrance Day statutory holiday, so no school. I heard the planes fly overhead, and watched a bit of the ceremony commemorating fallen soldiers on television. We will remember them. 

Today and tomorrow are professional development days, and although there are sessions at the school today, my principal gave me the days to stay home. I have some marking to do, and reports, but doing these tasks at home, in front of the fire, with a cup of tea, makes them easier. 

For a cultural activity last week, my 11s made Beef Empanadas. I made some at home beforehand, so I could give them helpful advice. They freeze well and make a quick and easy lunch. I got the recipe from Laylita, an Ecuadorian living in the USA. Her website is fantastic if you like South American food, as we do. 

In a couple of years we are planning a major renovation of our kitchen and downstairs living spaces. In the meantime, Tim has done a few things, like putting in the big window next to the table in the photo above, and installing the gas fireplace. I was standing in the kitchen workspace to take this photo. The kitchen itself is fairly small and will be made a bit larger during the renovation. Meanwhile, we are enjoying this cozy and bright space where we eat most of our meals when it's just the two of us. The white ice cream parlor chairs will be replaced soon. 

While eating breakfast, we watch the birds at the feeder come and go, scrapping at times. House Finches, like the one seen above, are common, as are Dark-eyed Juncos. From time to time we see Chickadees, Nuthatches, and Bushtits. Spotted Towhees come by to pick up any seeds dropped by the other birds. This particular House Finch was awaiting his turn at the feeder. 

Today I am sewing pajamas and nightgowns for the grandchildren for Christmas. I didn't do it last year, and wasn't planning to this year, but my daughter-in-law told me that the almost 10-year-old said something along the lines of "It's almost Christmas - Nana nighty time!" Such encouragement got me going! Yesterday I cut all the fabric and today I'll begin sewing. 

Thank you for all the great Christmas reading suggestions. I plan to compile a list and post it soon. 

Oh yes, there will be some marking done in between times! 

How are you doing these days? Is your pace slower than normal? I know that there are more restrictions with the rising number of Covid19 cases. Schools, however, are staying open, so my job continues as per usual. 

Choices

 

I think, sometimes, how surreal the world feels just now. Did you ever imagine that you would live during a global pandemic? I never did. Life goes on, but normality is overlaid with strangeness. Physical distancing, masks, sanitizing, and lineups are becoming the new normal. 

We've moved from spring through summer and now autumn is upon us. A new school year is underway and students are learning. Still the strangeness continues. For how long? This is the question of the day. No one knows. 

I just finished reading Louise Penny's latest novel "All the Devils are Here" and it has me thinking of life as novel, as it parallels this particular novel. 

A few weeks ago another blogger, Brenda, quoted from the beginning of the novel and it's such a wonderful piece of advice that I'm going to quote it again.

"Life can be cruel, as you know. But it can also be kind. Filled with wonders. You need to remember that. You have your own choice to make, Armand. What're you going to focus on? What's unfair, or all the wonderful things that happen? Both are true, both are real. Both need to be accepted. But which carries more weight with you? The goodness or the cruelty? Your life will be decided by that choice."

In the midst of this strange time in which we live, late roses bloom. Tomatoes ripen juicy and sweet. Hydrangea blossoms mellow into dark purple and pale green. I pick a crunchy apple and bite into its crisp tartness. Children laugh and grow. There are all sorts of wonders. There is much beauty. 

Penny's novel quickly darkens and the characters are caught up in a whirlwind of events that worsen with time. What will happen? How will things be resolved? We must read on, paragraph after paragraph to discover the end. 

Pandemic, devastating wildfires, personal tragedies - all of us are caught up in the maelstrom of life. Some experience hardships more cruel than others. We must live day by day, in hope, in trust, in faith that God is working and that we will get through this time in the world. 

The last chapter of Penny's novel contains these words that fill me with hope as they express the loveliness of home and the peace of homecoming: 

"The three of them stood in the cold October evening. A light snow was falling, and they could just make out the forests and the rolling hills stretching to the horizon. Below them in the valley, as though in the palm of some great hand, was a small village.

Buttery light shone from the fieldstone, brick, and clapboard homes that surrounded the green, turned white with freshly fallen snow. The crisp night air held a hint of maple smoke from chimneys. 

And in the very center of the village, three great pines swayed in the breeze."

Life is unlike a novel in that not everything is resolved satisfactorily. But there are ups and downs in life, and choices to make about where we focus. And so I wish you calmness in the midst of whatever today will bring. 

Little Things

It's often the little things in life that contribute to well-being. Some nights I lie down in my bed and think (or say), "I love this bed." My pillow is just how I like it. The cool air from the window blows across my face. The blankets are the perfect weight. All those little things add up. It's good to take the time and notice them.

Just now the frilly poppies bloom in odd spots in my garden. They self-seed and don't take too kindly to transplanting (although I've had pretty good luck doing so), and I let them bloom among the strawberries and onions as they like. That one snapdragon in the photo is a gorgeous colour, don't you think?

There was a family gathering on Sunday. Our Vancouver contingent is here for the week and we celebrated with a barbecue. Books were passed from one family to another, and here part of the donating family enjoyed reading a favourite story to the receiving cousin. 

The sweet peas have put out their first blossoms. I collected a small fragrant posy from the garden today - cutting sweet peas without compunction as the plants will make an effort to produce more, a Bolero rose and bud, a few cornflowers, and some lemon balm for green. 

Today, our 6-year-old grandson spent the day with me. We baked cupcakes. As he iced his he said, "When I'm finished icing this cupcake it will be glorious." 

Isn't that a delightful turn of phrase for a young man? I'm tickled every time I think of it. 

I am not a fan of orange in the garden, or in my house. However, a clump of bright day lilies has settled in next to a hydrangea bush in the front garden, and I have to applaud the pairing. 

More little things that have delighted me lately...

Lockdown sketches  - a charming way to remember these days

A video of how women got dressed in 18th century England (I'm delighted that clothing is much simpler now)

Tilda's World - fabric and quilts designed by a talented Norwegian, Tone Finnanger

I'd love to hear what little things are making a difference in your world these days. 

Five on a Rainy Friday: Roses and Rhubarb

Mid-June. Outside my window the raindrops fall. I'm wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a light sweater, and socks. The socks are a nod to the weather, normally I go barefoot from May to September. I can hear the faint chirp of birds outside, along with the tumble of the dryer inside. 

The above photo is of Boscobel, on a non-rainy day. She's giving me great delight.

I stepped out into the garden for a few minutes for some mint, and went back for my camera. Gertrude Jekyll, and Secret, below, are blooming in the rain. 

My reading is not very exciting. I don't have the mental energy just now for anything challenging or very exciting. I'm re-reading Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher, and found her words about the beginning of the Second World War applicable just now -

"Afterwards, in retrospect, Judith was always to remember the war as being a lot like a long journey in an aeroplane...hours of boredom interspersed with flashes of pure terror."

I don't know about the terror aspect, but I fear this Covid-19 will be a long journey that is often boring and uncomfortable. And I say this from an Island deemed free of the virus. Restrictions still apply. 

Our border with our friends to the south, where many of my readers live, is closed. We are becoming quite appalled by the way a few people think that the border doesn't really exist. We've heard about boaters coming up to explore our waters as they always do during the summer. We welcome them, but I'd just like to tell everyone to stay away for now. Washington State has many, many more cases than BC - with more new ones every day. 

It's almost lunchtime here. I'm going to have some cucumbers, red peppers, and cottage cheese with pickled onions, sunflower seeds, and a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Followed by a square of dark chocolate for dessert. And probably another mug of steaming tea since it's a chilly day.

Being out in my garden fills me with deep content. We're enjoying fresh strawberries, not many, but enough, and last night I picked the first small bowlful of red raspberries, the perfect mix of tart and sweet. We enjoyed them with our breakfast this morning. The feverfew lightens up the dark corners of the garden. I let it grow to fill in spots, and it's easy enough to yank out where it's not wanted. The peonies, as you can spot, are bedraggled in the rain and dropping their petals like mad. 

 

In the kitchen I've been making rhubarb syrup for a thirst-quenching drink should the weather decide to warm up. The big jar is in the fridge, but the smaller ones are sealed and headed for the basement storage shelves. 

When we were in Europe last summer it was hot, hot, hot. I normally drink only water, but the cold "lemonades" they served were wonderful - not too sweet as we often make drinks in North America, but refreshing and tart. I'm attempting to make my own concentrates this year, with seasonal fruits. I think blackberries and raspberries will be delicious. 

There are lots of recipes on the internet if you do a search. I adapted a Rhubarb Syrup one to be heavier on the rhubarb and lighter on the sugar. 

There is a glimmer of light across the sky just now, behind the clouds. A good reminder that Light is always present, even on the darkest days. 

Weekend plans include some gardening, some housecleaning, a bit of baking, and getting together with friends on Sunday. How about you? Any plans? Are restrictions easing in your area? Happy Weekend, my friends.

Here and There

"Daisies are the friendliest flowers" says Meg Ryan's character in You've Got Mail. This past weekend we went hiking and walked through fields of daisies. It looked as though an artist had taken a paintbrush and spattered white paint over a grassy green background. The daisies and grasses bent and swayed in the wind. The beauty of it filled my well. Several deer enjoyed the daisies, as well. How still they stand once they noticed us. So watchful. 

There was also a stroll through a marina where Small Fry floated next to the dock. This beautiful wooden boat was someone's pride and joy long ago and the current owner is taking good care of her. 

At home in my garden the snap peas are flowering. It's been a cool few weeks and the garden is poking along. I'd pick these flowers and arrange them in a vase if I didn't want the peas they will soon produce. 

John Cabot is blooming with vigor, and there are many many more buds to open. Promises for later. 

I've been drying herbs - oregano and bay leaves. Some I dry in the oven with just the oven light on; others in the dehydrator. The other day I needed a bit of dried parsley for a recipe and put the sprigs between paper towel in the microwave. That was fast and easy, but probably not doable for any great quantity. 

I picked a fist full of daisies and arranged them with a few garden fillers - lavender, feverfew, and ferns. They make a cheerful display on the coffee table. I recently read a couple of quotes about the scent of daisies - one said, "She smelled of sun and daisies" and I thought "Ew" because daisies, as friendly as they are, do not have a pleasant fragrance at all. 

I'm counting down to the end of school. Just a couple more weeks. I've handed out final assignments and am beginning to write reports. I will be so very glad when this strange school year ends. Students and teachers alike are weary, more so than normal because of Covid-19, I think. And no one knows what September will hold - I feel for our administrators who have been told to plan for every stage. 

What's blooming in your gardens? Do you find it a place of solace? I do. Cares fall away as I weed and pray and think.