My House Guest The Carpenter

My son Steve came to visit and not only is he the greatest company but he's a carpenter.

Let's see-- my son the carpenter is coming to visit. How can I keep him busy? He sort of thought that visiting the kinfolk would be nice and perhaps tour the town, things like that.

I assured him he could do those things but first would he please take a minute to install laminate flooring in the living/dining room and while he's at it just do the stairs as well.

Before he arrived my faithful helper ripped up the broadloom in the living/dining room and we smoothed out the sub floor, removing all staples and wayward nails. Harry liked sleeping on the rolled-up carpet.



The she ripped up the carpet stairs. I hated that came-with-the-house carpet even before I saw it in a movie theater lobby and I'm positive it haunts many a funeral home.



The family room took the overflow of livng room debris and we had to pick our way around carefully. I still got the tree up though.


This is the weather the day we drove to the airport to pick up Steve.It took us two tries before we dared to attempt the highway. We’d had fall weather up to then and the next day was fall weather again. I hope he didn't see it as an omen.



This is Steve’s first day visiting me.



He departed yesterday and when the furniture is back in place I'll show you the results.

Okay, he didn't tour the town but I did have the relatives over to visit with him while the glue was setting.

God bless amiable children.

Now This Is My Kind Of Winter

This was the temperature around nine this morning. Remember people, we are talking the Canadian east so it's the 63 F that should be impressing you..

I had tossed the green spiky plant when I thought summer had ended. It continued to flourish lying on its aide behind the globe cedar so I plunked it into the iron planter for another reincarnation. Now it's a Christmas decoration.





The fish are swimming around aimlessly, no doubt wondering why they aren't hunkered down under a sheet of ice. I'm continuing to feed them since I have no idea what's around to nosh on in that pond.

The Best Non-Diet Ever

I've hit upon the greatest, most painless diet ever and it works.

Over the years I've probably tried over a dozen types of diets and they were successful as long as I denied myself the foods I liked and felt hungry most of the time. Worse still, I never stopped thinking about food. I'd manage fairly well until there was some sort of change in my life or daily routine and that was the cue for the old habits to return.

We're inching our way to the truthful part--when I tell you why I couldn't maintain a size twelve. The big number one, absolutely key reason is that I loved that evening martini.

The ritual of mixing that drink was the perfect way to hail the end of the daylight hours. My favorite stemmed glass chilling in the freezer; fill the shaker with ice and add a dollop of gin. Add a whisper of vermouth over the surface and shake vigorously, then strain the liquid into the perfectly chilled glass. Plop in a perfect queen-size olive. So civilized.

But for me the ritual had long since palled and I was aware that the taste just wasn't that interesting anymore. Still, I felt anxious about eliminating this tradition. Although I kept busy during the day, I lived alone and was reluctant to give up an evening ritual that took time to accomplish.

My doctor was threatening to increase my high blood pressure doseage and I didn't want that.

Then, on my way out of her office several months ago I thought about my eating and drinking habits and realized I really didn't want or need alcohol anymore. And I stopped just like that.

I went home and closed up the bar and that was the end of my drinking career and I have never ever missed it.

Now comes the pay-off.

Twenty pounds slipped away without any further help from me and now it's still slowly dropping away, asisted by daily walks for exercise

The major diet obstacle was the alcohol-induced desire to eat more and I could easily consume the equivalent of a second dinner and often did. Once I removed those high cal grain culprits from my life, one dinner was enough, and less of it than before.

My blood pressure doseage has been reduced to half a pill daily and the pressure readings are in the normal range, with an occasional blip to remind me it's there.

There you have it--the easiest diet ever and it only took me thiry years to figure it out. It's all about atitude, that's all it is, and I was lucky enough to stumble on the answer at a time when I was ready to listen to my own advice.

My Own Spyware

The fish pond was carefully positioned to give maximum viewing pleasure but there was a tiny flaw in my planning--it's impossible to tell from inside the house whether the pump is working.

This isn't a big deal in the summer because I'm outside all the time. In the winter, viewing the pond entails donning parka, boots and mitts,prying open the kitchen sliders,shovelling the snow and ice off the deck and sliding to the edge to even see the water.

So what?, you ask. And thanks for asking. I have to be sure the pump is blowing up air so that there will be a hole in the ice or the little varmints can't breathe and they're picky about that.

A power surge on the weekend killed off the pump but since I am a tad obsessive compulsive, I had a spare one on hand and installed it.

Anyway, I was thinking about the not-being-able-to-see-from-the-house problem and I had this epiphany.

I'd drive over to the Habitat for Humanity recycling store and find me an old closet door mirror and position it so I can see the water from inside where it's warm. That would also preclude the hand-wringing stage, wondering how the fish were doing.

Turns out I visited the store the day they only had really big mirrors but since I was there, I bought the cheapest one and lugged it into the car.

Now it's lashed to the garden arch and from the upstairs study window I can see a nice little geyser chugging away.

Did I mention the sight of the mirror is butt ugly?



Although you would require superhuman power to recognize it in the picture, the spouting water shows at the upper left corner of the glass.



Don't ask me what I plan to do when the mirrow is snowed over or turns to ice.

Unless anyone has a suggestion?

Too Late For Florida, Fishies

We've had our first snow and ice, just a smattering to remind us what's ahead and the fish are pretty well resigned to hibernating for the next several months.

The pump is weighted down and tucked in quilt batting to keep out anything that might cause clogging. It works all through the winter to ensure there will always be an air hole for the wee critters.



This is the way the fish looked this morning, reflecting off the ice.



The Japanese grass continues to lend an elegant air to an otherwise bleak period in the garden.

Now this Is neighborly

I am the world's luckiest woman--I have a car mechanic I can trust.

Ron was my next-door neighbor when I first moved to Waterloo.



He was a motor mechanic with a dream to own his own shop and when my car needed servicing he'd drive it to work and return it at the end of the day, work done and bill in hand.

What a perfect arrangement.

Today, Ron owns his own shop in nearby New Hamburg and I wouldn't let anyone else tend my car. Unfortunately now I have to do the driving to the shop, about twenty minutes away in good weather.

He has a dry wit and speaks sparingly and you might be deceived into believing he doesn't get much done. In fact, he is superbly organized and his mind races well ahead of his dialogue.

This is Kathy, Ron's wife. she does all the office work; ordering, picking up supllies,accounting, everything Ron isn't doing. There are two little boys to manage as well.




The station is set back from the highway and there's still lots of country around.





I'd been a city girl before moving out here and Ron was my first introduction to small town kindness.

His tiny office area generally holds one or two visitors, chatting and observing "out-of-towner" like me. I made their day with the picture-taking and describing what a blog is.

I hope he stays put now; I'm not sure the car and I could manage a longer distance.

Its All In The name

The bad news is that in order to stay healthy one must exercise.

I don't know about you but that word conjures up pictures of living rooms cluttered with bulky machines that no one ever uses, or worse still they use them and work up a sweat. In the living room.

If we must nit-pick and apparently I must, that was exercise when I grubbed about in the garden every day last summer. But it was fun. And come to think of it, I did sweat, but that was outdoors so it doesn't count.

Now winter is coming, the garden is tucked away and I don't want to clutter up my living room with nasty machines I won't use anyway.

This calls for a flexible attitude and walking is what I came up with.

This morning I snatched up my radio with the earplugs, camera and warm jacket and mumbled my way into healthy living.

Once the sulking got boring I looked around and the scenery wasn't half bad.



The local contractors must have had their arms twisted and they left us beautiful wooded pathways tucked in here and there.

These hostas are turning a wonderful shade before they fade away for the winter.



I guess I'll think of these as nature walks and forget the dread "E" word.

A winter Preview

Yesterday I went through all the machinations of a woman about to give birth--I got into a tidy-up frenzy.

Clearly my objective was to winterize the yard and it had to be done NOW, this minute.

I wrestled tarps around anything that hinted at summer and soon the air conditioner, tables and chairs were lost to view.

The geraniums were uprooted and stored in the garage, a final suet treat into the feeder and then that will be tucked away to encourage the sparrows to turn into Snow Birds down south.

When I figured I was done, the wind was noticeable and I came inside just in time to watch the first snow squalls of the season and they were nasty.

We generally get a pleasant fall until Hallowe'en but not this year.

The mirror on the front porch took a direct hit.



The tree in front resembled a Christmas scene.



This was the Beech tree a couple of days ago.



And here it is this morning.



I don't think Fall is done yet but this is a detour I could have done without.

Well, a pregnancy at my age would get me into the Guiness Book but I'll settle for spring fever gone astray.

The Boys of Summer

The water is murky but take a look at that big guy. He was smaller than his companions when he moved in a year ago.



This is the last of the hold-outs; they're all tucking in for the winter and I'm collecting seed pods to start indoors in the spring.

Is This Cumulus Or Nimbus?

One look at those clouds yesterday and I was thinking a storm cellar might be a good thing to have.



The blue sky was quickly being elbowed out by those big raging bullies.



When I reached the supermarket parking lot I was adding emergency flashlights and water to my list.



By the time I returned home the blue sky had regained control.



Perhaps it's time to do some serious learning about clouds and their meaning.

I say Tomawtos

I get my best ideas at three in the morning.

This morning I'd spring out in the garden bright and early and just tear out those overgrown tomato bushes, the ones still bowed down with unripe fruit. Then, and here's the thinking part, I'd take those unruly branches down the basement and hang them upside down from the rafters.

That way, I had read, the fruit will ripen and you don't waste a thing. Yes I do know about green tomato relish. forgetaboudit.

Anyway, by the time the sun came up and I was actually out there, it didn't seem as good an idea. In fact, it was one of the worst. The damned roots were enormous and unwilling to budge and the branches were seriously clinging to the cages.

A quick phone call and my sweet daughter-in law Miss Lorrie agreed to take whatever I could wrestle free and she'll ripen them in paper bags and then make salsa.

Now that's a plan.

This is most of the heap after they had been wrenched from their home.



This is where they'd been, tucked between three kinds of peppers, basil and one fennel.I was curious to see what the latter would grow up to be and as far as I can tell, it never did.



This is what I culled from under the bushes. Out of sight there's another huge pail full picked from the branches.



The good news is that once the tomatoes were planted in the spring the bunnies stayed away from the garden. The bad news is that this little wretch appeared the minute the harvest was complete.

Going, going...

The garden is slowly fading away, settling in for a long chilly sleep.

There are some last bursts of bloom, though.
The last Clematis.



And the final rose



This little beauty has a name unknown to me. I forgot to write it down when I did find out. It pops up in the spring showing leaves only, a cross between Lily of the Valley and Hosta. At the end of June it simply fades into the earth until September, when these crocus-like blooms appear. What a bonus.



I got this statue at the junk yard for five bucks. It stands guard over the fish and so far has been doing a fine job.



The Magnolia tree is still in need of therapy. I've moved it four times (don't ask) and at present am air layering a stem to make a new tree in the spring. It still produces blooms that last one day and then collapse. Quite lovely but quirky.



The spiders are hanging out on the deck and this one has a web made of rubber I think. I just skirt around him and we're both happy.

Peace and Quiet

The idea was that I'd move into this small house with an eye to paring down my old life style and once the roof was replaced and the second bathroom installed I figured I would coast along into my dotage.

The toilet never flushed properly in the "new" bathroom but I lived with its quirks until recently. Okay, recently means two years have passed, but I kept a note on the tank to advise the occupant to hold the lever down until the entire flushing action was done. Sometimes it didn't flush anyway.

Finally I called a plumber. The first one on the scene admitted after half an expensive hour that he had no clue as to the problem.

Enter plumber #2. He told me a sad story about what squirrels can do by storing walnuts in that breather thingie on the roof and I was happy to report there are no walnut trees and very few squirrels in the neighborhood.

Then he figured there was a problem in that same vent between the upstairs and downstairs toilets and he would send one of their specialists over to chop a hole in the wall and correct the problem.

There aren't any telephone listings for female plumbers but by this time I was prepared to find out if one was in training and wait for her to graduate.

Well, #3 arrived not having been told what his predecessor had said and gave what just might be the correct diagnosis; the pipes under my lovely ceramic tile floor are not sloping properly, in fact they run straight across instad of sloping down at a progressive angle.

You know what that means don't you? Sure you do, they had to chop up part of my lovely floor.

Actually, #4 and #5 were called in to do that.



My timing was out to lunch and my daughter had been cajoled (she says coerced) into painting the living/dining room so everything was already in chaos.



But progress is a- happening. The pipes are re-jigged, the trench is packed in with dirt and gravel and I matched the bathroom floor tiles so they will soon be restored.

In the other room the painting is done,the pictures re-hung and yes, it is a deep royal purple. So sue me.



What is absolutely clear to me is that I can't afford any more down-sizing.

A Room with A View

We bundled some quilt batting around one of the pond pumps to clear up the gungy water and speed up the water-clearing process.

That was our plan, but we forgot to consult Esterwilliams the frog.



She settled into serious nesting and I'm reluctant to clean the batting. Esther has a pretty stern look.

Here she is sitting on her front porch.



Listen, Esther, couldn't I just get in there to clean the sheets?

Now This Is Ugly

I swear some evil alien dropped this from a UFO this morning.



One thing I'm sure of--I'm not eating it.



Any takers?