Daily Life

Outside my window the rain drips down, fine and steady. After several weeks of sunny skies and warming temperatures, the earth drinks in the much needed moisture. I sit on the couch, a mug of Yorkshire Gold tea beside me, and am curiously content to listen to the quiet patter of rain on the roof. 

My morning tour of the garden consisted of looking out the window and taking photos from the open door. The vegetable garden is coming along nicely. Those tall stalks of kale will soon be uprooted as they have provided us with greens most of the winter and are going to seed. I'm reluctant to part with them just yet, for the leaves are tender and sweet. 

A kale salad can be a tiresome thing to eat. I find that cutting the leaves finely, after removing the ribs, then adding a glug of olive oil and some coarse salt, followed by a gentle but thorough massage tenderizes the kale and makes it pleasant to eat. I've been adding apple chunks, sliced radishes, sweet red peppers, and sunflower seeds to the greens. The whole is tossed with a squeeze of lemon juice or a sprinkle of balsamic vinegar. For an added flourish, I add some blue cheese crumbles. The leftovers are equally delicious the next day for my solitary lunch. 

Another view of the garden from the house. Still lots of work to do out there. 

This morning I baked granola. Tim eats it for breakfast almost every morning, with yogurt and berries. It's very plain, just large flake oats, sliced almonds, and cinnamon all mixed with honey and melted butter, then baked and stirred every 10 minutes in the oven. The house smells wonderful, and combined with the rainy day, I'm feeling very content. 

Yesterday we had our house treated for carpenter ants so I needed to be away for 6 hours. The school said I could hang out there, so I packed up my stuff and off I went. I worked in a room alone, but managed a face to face chat (at a good distance) with several people during the day. It struck me how much more satisfactory it is to visit in person rather than via digital means. I also managed to finish my student reports. Hooray!

My piece of embroidery is coming along well. I read this article in the Atlantic that relates how many of us are taking up needles of various sorts these days as women have done for centuries. One friend I know (Pondside, who no longer blogs, but is on Instagram) signed a piece of needlework with her initials and "2020 in the time of Covid". A good memento of this time. 

Now I'm off to mark a few assignments that have come in, and prepare for two virtual "Meets" with my classes. What are your plans for the day?

Stormy Sunday

The wind is tossing trees and shrubs mostly violently this afternoon. Rain pelts down. It's a good day to stay inside by the fire. We had to drive up Island earlier in the afternoon and within an hour of leaving home the sky showed blue patches and a rainbow arched over the mountains in the distance, giving us hope that the bad weather had passed. Alas, no. Still, we're warm and dry, and I have a big mug of tea alongside. 

Recent reads. The Marcia Willett books are easy and gentle reading. Entry Island was fascinating, alternating between Scotland in the early 19th century to the Magdalen Islands (also known as Iles de la Madeleine) in Canada in modern times. A murder combined with history and interesting characters made for a story that I stayed up late on Friday night to finish. 

Hannah Coulter is a wonderful story of a woman looking back on her life in Kentucky. It's a story of courage and wisdom, of mistakes made and lessons learned, and of intense love of the land where she lived. I'll be looking for more of Wendell Berry's stories. 

Death's Door has just been opened, so I have nothing to say about it quite yet, except that it was recommended by another blogger. 

I picked up a bundle of these pretty pink tulips on Friday. I love their colour and shape. 

My Valentine flowers are lasting and lasting. Against a rain-spattered window they are bright and cheerful. 

Pistachios. I recently read that just a few pistachios eaten before bed help with sleep. Apparently they contain more melatonin than almost any other food. I don't know whether they help with sleep or not, but I like them. They can be rather addicting and it's hard to stop at just a few. 

A new week begins. Hope it's a good one for you. 

These Quiet Days

January 3. A new year. It began quietly for us, with a cheese fondue, a movie, and bed before midnight, although the fireworks awakened us then. I've not done much thinking about intentions or goals for 2019, but then I rarely do. Do you? My take on resolutions is that if something needs to be done, I'm not going to wait until a new year dawns. 

The house is quiet; the only sound is the rain dripping on the skylight. A fire glows and spreads its welcome warmth. Outside is dark and wet. I sit in a pool of light in the living room, toasting my feet and sipping tea.

In between the many periods of rain, chickadees, house finches (shown), spotted towhees, dark-eyed juncos, and sparrows visit the bird feeder. How they squabble among themselves. Very entertaining.  

Two small girls and my eldest daughter came by yesterday. We set up the craft table and let the little girls at it. They crafted all manner of interesting things. I had thought to inspire them to make little alligators and they were quite excited it about it, but while waiting for the green paint to dry, they became involved in creating more free form items, so we left them to it, not wanting to nip their enthusiasm in the bud. In the end I finished up the alligators and they took them home. 

Alligator inspirations. 

I've had a couple of quilt tops stitched for some time, but have procrastinated on the quilting part. I don't enjoy that. Recently, my sister and niece purchased a long arm quilting machine, so I gave them two tops to quilt. Yesterday and today I cut and sewed the binding onto the tops and am now enjoying hand sewing the binding to the back side. It's very cozy having a quilt over the knees in this weather. 

I finished my first book of 2019. It did not disappoint. Inspector Gamache and the town of Three Pines are as irresistible as ever.

Penny references Rupert Brooke's poem "The Great Lover" in the novel, in which the poet makes a list of the things he's loved in his life. 

These I have loved:
         White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
Wet roofs, beneath the lamp light; the strong crust 
Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;....

Penny's character, Gamache makes a list of his own beloved things that help to ease his mind in difficult situations. I've been thinking of the things that I love. In a way, acknowledging them is a form of gratitude, and I find that being thankful also eases my mind. 

In spite of the rain outside, I have a few errands to run, so I'd better bundle up and get out there. 

Celebrating here and there

There were presents. Wonderful handmade and thoughtful gifts. Woodworking, embroidery, sewing, cooking, crocheting were all represented. 

There was food. Lots and lots of delicious things to eat. Our dinner culminated in an eggnog cheesecake with a raspberry sauce and whipped cream. Oh, so delectable. 

There was a lot of fun. The marshmallow shooters were a hit with young and not-so-young folks. Tim and I were last home from church on Christmas Eve because we stayed to talk to out-of-town friends for a bit. When we opened the door to the house, we were bombarded with mini marshmallows shooting at us from every angle. So much fun! We're still finding those little white balls in the oddest spots. 

There was a trip on the ferry to the mainland to see my parents and siblings. Rain fell, coming and going. It didn't stop the merriment.

Everything appeared rather ghostly through the rain. We were glad to arrive home last night. 

I determined to do very little today, and I met my goal. When the rain eased to a mizzle I went out for a walk. Lovely fresh air cleared my head. Bright moss coated this rocky spot with cheerful colour. 

More grey over the rooftops and into the distance. A few hours later, a strip of pale pink showed above the horizon.

Most of the day has been spent here, in front of the fire, with copious cups of tea and a few cookies, along with a new book. This evening will be the same, with perhaps a switch to a movie instead of a book. 

Are you finding time for walks and peaceful moments in this week between the years?

Linking with Friday Bliss, hosted by Ritta of Floral Passions.

Laughing at the Rain

An early Christmas dinner. Parents and siblings came over from the mainland, my parents, sister and brother-in-law on Friday night, my brother and sister-in-law on Saturday.  

Around midday, while the wind rose and the rain pelted hard against the window, we ate and drank and laughed and talked. Lights twinkled on the tree, candles burned low, and the air caught a faint scent of fresh fir and cast it about the rooms. It felt like Christmas, festive and cozy.
   

We were warm and dry and happy while the storm raged, but kept an eye on the ferry website. Sailing after sailing was cancelled. In the end, there was no way across the water that night. 
Oh joy! An impromptu sleepover! When was the last time my parents, together with all of their children, spent the night under the same roof? We snacked, watched Christmas with the Kranks, and laughed some more while the wind howled and tore more than half the branches from my pots of greenery on the porch. 

Tim and I slept soundly in the living room, awaking only when the gas fire started at 6:30. How lovely to open my eyes to that soft glow. One more run to the ferry with the walk-on passengers and soon the house was quiet again.

In church this morning, a sweet little sheep sang and clapped and gazed at the angels. 

Then down to earth with a stack of marking. A cup of Holiday Chai tea in a pretty cup with a cookie (or two) alongside made the task more pleasant.

The series of storms that kept us all on our toes this past week seems to have eased to intermittent rain showers predicted this week. The last week of school. I'm looking forward to a couple of weeks at home. 

How's the weather been treating you? 

A Change in the Weather

Autumn arrived in drifts of mist and dripping rain. A quiet symphony of greys colored our mid-week ferry ride. I thought of naming this post "50 *Shades * Gr*ey, but thought better of it, not wanting the traffic that might engender. There are surely more than that number in this mist-laden landscape.

The lighthouse is the brightest spot in the above photo, but even its bright red bands are dulled.

Clouds pile up over the islands fading into the horizon. When seeing sights like these (colors straight out of the camera), it's hard to remember the vibrant blues and greens of sunnier days.

A ferry railing drips with rain. There's beauty in the grey, mysterious and soft: an abstract world that beguiles the imagination with possibilities.

The sun has returned, but I know we'll have more of these misty days.

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

Stormy Weather Photo Challenge

Taking the photos wasn't the challenge this time around - finding stormy weather was. We've been enjoying sunny days with little variation. I thought I might have to fake some photos with a spray bottle of water, as Donna suggested. This week, though, dark clouds rolled through once or twice for a bit of drama, but usually passed through without any precipitation. Then, early one morning, I heard rain spattering against the roof and windows and, very briefly considered getting up decided that I'd rather stay in bed. 
 

I did go out before breakfast to capture the effects. Raindrops running a course down oregano leaves, each drop elongating before slipping to the next position to finally hang, tremulous, and then fall.
 

You can see how little rain we actually got - just the bottom petals of the delphinium hold a few droplets.

All photos were taken with my Nikon Coolpix P7100, cropped as needed and a bit of contrast enhancing accomplished with Picasa. 

Joining in with Donna's Personal Photo Challenge. Thanks, Donna, for the links to great articles and for hosting this challenge in the midst of your own personal life challenges.

Rainy Weather Walks

"There's no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes." So says my husband. 

Sunday afternoon. Pouring rain eases to a steady drizzle. We shrug into raincoats, pull rain pants over our jeans, and put on waterproof shoes. 

We're the only humans at Tod Inlet. Dozens of gulls perch on old pilings, impervious to the soft patter of droplets on the water. One gull rises, flaps to another perch and forces the gull sitting there to move on. He, in turn, chooses an occupied perch as well, in spite of quite a number of empty spots. Fun to watch.
 
 

One raindrop trembles on the end of a bare branch just beginning to swell with the promise of growth. 
 

Tim's on a week of vacation. Nothing special is planned, but today we drove up to our house in Parksville. The one we couldn't sell two years ago. It's been rented, but it's on the market again. 

Rain poured down as we drove. The rain thickened - a mixture of rain and snow. Splat, splat went the wipers. 

Before turning homeward we went for a walk along Englishman River Falls. Mud squelched. Rain dripped off the trees. Water rushed over the falls. Such a variety of water sounds.
 

Bright emerald tiny ferns poke up from the moss. In spite of the cold wet and the snow lying in the forest, spring is on the way.

April Showers

After a stretch of sunny, warm weather that made Easter feel like summer, the rains have come again. But these are not the cold onslaught of November rains that lashes against the windows and the soul alike. No, these rains are soft spatters, falling gently on the newly planted grass seed, the pots of bulbs, and the trees laden with blossoms. These are the rains that bring the flowers.

 

These raindrops sit like crystal drops on the frilly ranunculus that I admire from my breakfast table. Pink delights.

Just as I type this rhapsody to gentle rain, I hear a noise and look outside to see heavy drops of rain slanting down. Sigh. All this rain makes me tired. I need a nap.

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary of the Little Red House.

And the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down

 

 The rainy day song from Winnie-the-Pooh which you can hear by clicking on the link, has been going through my mind this morning. The grass is green, green, green these days and full of moss. 
 

On the ledge above the kitchen sink, a handful of tight daffodil buds is just beginning to open, adding a little brightness to the day. A good day to stay indoors and that's my plan. I'll be sewing a couple of little dresses for two little sweethearts to wear for Easter. 

Do your plans include indoor or outdoor activities? 

A Good Day for an Ark

 Dreich: a combination of dull, overcast, drizzly, cold, misty and miserable weather. According to the Urban Dictionary, at least four of these adjectives must apply for weather to be truly dreich. 
I read the word in Winter Solstice by Rosamunde Pilcher. I knew what it meant from the context, but thought I'd look it up to see if the description would fit yesterday's weather. Yes, it would. It was a truly dreich day. But there was beauty in it as well.

I stopped along the road today, protected my camera with my scarf and took a few photos. The snow geese are what drew me. Those white blobs are up-ended geese on the pond/lake. I had to use the full zoom on my camera to get them, hence the indistinct quality. 

When I got home and looked at the photo, the colours jumped out at me - the lingering red on the trees, the white barn, golden grasses and bright evergreens. 

I spent the afternoon baking - a good way to chase away the day's "dreich-ness." 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary of the Little Red House.