My Brother's Other Life

My brother bob lived an entire lifetime by the time he was twenty-three.

During World War Two, he joined the RCAF on his eighteenth birthday, was rapidly trained as a pilot and shipped off to England to pilot a Lancaster bomber, the biggest of them all.

Each mission was some thirty-odd assigned flights over enemy territory and during the second round of missions his plane was hit by enemy fire and in flames.

He ordered his crew out and as he was preparing to exit, he saw lights below and realized he was flying over a town; he stayed long enough to get the plane over uninhabited countryside.

Then he evacuated suffering burns to his face and hands.

He landed in a tree and a neighboring farmer found him the next morning. Turns out he was in neutral Sweden and in time was reunited with his crew and eventually sent back to England, where he signed up for a third tour.

He earned a DFC.

The lady in uniform is Bob's wife Doe. She joined the air force believing she would be used as a secretary. She had studied danced for most of her young life, primarily ballet, and the Air Force chose to put her into tap shoes in an entertainment unit for the troops,touring England and France.

She and Bob met on a blind date, married in London and they were returned to Canada at war's end. They were both twenty-three.

Each year on November 11, they head off to their local Legion Hall and from there they take part in the ceremonies and people treat them with respect and gratitude.

This touches them dearly.

Bob had a massive heart attack a few months ago and it took all his strength to get to the service yesterday but he made it.

He honors the memory of his gunner who died on one of the missions but mostly there are memories he prefers not to discuss.

Here's to you big brother and sister and to every man and woman who lived that life.

Snow Time

There it is; no getting around it, it snowed last night and it's still snowing. it's wet and patchy and won't last long but that's the final warning--winter has arrived.
If you have superman vision you can spot the falling snow flakes.
The good news, and it's a stretch to call it that, the windows wereupgraded in the summer and I can now lean out the window and see the fishpond. It's to the left of and above the white rain barrel.
This way, I can tell if the pump is running properly and the fish have their breathing hole.
Anyway, it was a great summer.

Mini Harvest

This is embarrassing.
Early in the summer when I was going to be the queen of small-scale veggie gardens, I planted a few sprouting potato pieces in a plastic garbage can. Well, a couple of them had sprouted.
I planned the various ways to cook my plentiful harvest; au gratin, whipped, baked, sauteed, scalloped, I was going to do them all.
Eventually there was a lavish display of lush green leaves and I confidently waited for the moment the leaves showing signs of quitting.
Yesterday I harvested.
And this is it.
Half a dozen little beauties.
Six.
Next time I won't be so casual about the condition of those little green sprouts before I toss them into the barrel.

October at it's Best

The leaves are fading now but the morning walk is enjoyable, interspersed with my panting as I moosh up and down those hills.

The exercise got me into shape to harvest the horseradish. I planted them in their own little corner of the garden and they've invaded every inch of the place.
I fully expect them to surge up through the basement floor sometime soon.
Washing the white part is fine but it's a good idea to invest in a gas mask before cutting them up.
Chop them, toss them into the food processor, add a touch of white vinegar, mayo, anything your heart desires and with enough pulsing, eventually you have a fiery sauce, enough for the three family members who wouldn't dream of tackling rare roast beef without a healthy dollop of this stuff.

If I just knew how to keep the plants corralled.

The Morning Walk

The morning walks are nice in the fall. It's like having the universe to yourself, along with one or two dog-walkers.

This is the way the pond looks at 7:30 in the morning.
I love the eerie quality misting the area and even the ducks seem subdued as they quietly paddle about their business.

This is perfect walking weather--it's not cold yet, just pleasantly crisp.

Naked Ladies

MADE YOU LOOK didn't I?


I'd never heard of these little beauties until a few years ago.
A friend offered me the bulbs, declaring they provide attractive green leaves in the early summer but never bloom.

Lucky for me she is one of those neat freaks and doesn't glance into her garden once August is done.

Because in September these little beauties, officially named Colchicums, spring up looking like a bunch of giant crocus.


There are no sheltering leaves, hence the name naked ladies.

Bloom on, ladies.

A Miniature Harvest

Close your eyes and imagine paintings of harvest time; muscled peasants hauling carts laden with hay, aproned women bent over rows of vegetables,with a promise of more fields to labor before winter sets in.

Now open your eyes and visit my world, where the crop is planted in four raised beds the size of a double-wide coffin. (At my age, we tend to think in realistic terms.)

It's such a rush to pluck food out of the garden and make wild promises to oneself to aacomplish even more next year. That would probably have been more realistic when I was forty, but optimism reigns.

At first I thought this squash was going to be a pumpkin; I enclosed it in a mesh bag while it grew, to divert the nocturnal garden visitors, and I would have been pleased whichever it was.
I thought the onions would be the size of soccer balls but they chose to be petite.

I also turned my attention to using every one of the large crop of Roma tomatoes. Oven dried was my solution to one batch and here is the result. I took notes so I'll have them aced next time.

My neighbors gave me three cuttings of this yellow raspberry six years ago and now I have a flourishing grove. they produce to the end of July, take a rest and produce again in September.
There is always enough for two days worth to munch with the breakfast cereal.

This is such a satisfying time and each day there is something else to be dug up and cured and stored.

Next I want to figure out a modern day version of a root cellar that will be stationed outside my kitchen door.

Carrot togetherness

Today's harvest.
Is this the carrots' way of telling me I planted them too close together?

Viva Romas

Early on, I carefully snipped off the bottom leaves of the tomato plants, ensuring stronger growth at the top.

But then, summer intervened in the form of nearby tornadoes (a good excuse to hide inside),or it rained enough to keep the farmers happy or it was to darned hot to do any more than admire the garden.
Oh I admit the garden was a little on the overrun side, but it looked good to me.

this morning I took a bowl out to see if I had enough Romas to whip us some salsa and sure enough, I did. These guys were pretty well hidden in the bottom where I had neglected to snip for quite some time.

They don't look the least bit runty to me.

While I was at it, I found an eggplant growing nicely in the shade of the tomatoes.

This is what I like about gardening; you do as much as you can or as little and there are still rewards.

Wins and Losses

The raised beds were a great idea. This one was intended to hold the oriental rhubarb and a smattering of spinach and lettuce. Instead, the horseradish, planted way back by the fence, crept forward and sneaked into everything this year.
The veggies surrendered and now the rhubarb is holding a shoving match with the intruder.
My kids love my horseradish sauce--it comes with fire extinguishers, so it has to stay. But how to contain it?
From what I've read, it won't be easy. Or possible.

The morning glories are charming as always; I installed a fine netting over the fence and they are winding their way up up from the end of their raised bed.

Then there's the ornamental grass. I thought it would be nice to plant it by the air conditioner so we wouldn't have to stare at the metal box. I guess I got the kind of grass that wants to shield entire houses from view.
that gate isn't mine--it belongs to the next-door neighbor.
I think I'll give the grass a haircut.

Well Hello Fred

the good news is that there is a newcomer to the fishpond. A frog named Fred.
The bad news? Well, I headed out this morning full of resolve to tidy up the filter and hoses so the pond would look, well, natural.
That's when I found Fred and I had to have a picture, mess or no mess.
I guess the mess stays as is for now.

So, Fred, please stick around. Do your own housekeeping if you like.

A Touch of Victoriana

Another garden tour today in the town of Elmira, and mercifully the heat wave has temporarily taken leave.
This garden-owner had a beautifully restored Victorian home and displayed some of his china collection from the 1800's. This is transfer ware.
It was easy to imagine family members choosing the coolest porch to sit, fanning themselves with paper fans and sipping fresh lemonade.

This closely resembles the doll carriage of my childhood, which I hasten to add was way past the Victorian era.
Garden tours are a reminder that almost any garden is enhanced by a back-drop of sheltering trees and my own less -than- twenty years old place is stuffed with as many trees that the property can handle.
That's my legacy to future owners.
What's not to love about summer?

Hello Rain

Here is the deck thermometer yesterday. Okay it is in full sun but we won't quibble--it was hot and humid, the kind of day you spend forcing yourself to at least get the bed made.

The deck this morning.
If you've had a lot of rain lately you won't be impressed.
Last month we had a lot of rain and that meant more lawn cutting but less hand-watering so it balanced out.
We will savor this rain. These days we look for funnel clouds and cringe when the wind starts to howl, so a gentle rain is just fine.
My only complaint about this summer is that it's flying by.
Slow down, please.

This Was Home

This house, center-left, is my old house in Toronto. It's well over a hundred years old, situated in Cabbagetown, a central downtown area where 'way back, these were rooming houses for laborers, and front yards were planted with cabbages,or that's how the story goes.

On a recent quickie visit to Toronto, we detoured past my old house, down a narrow one-way street.

It's in a row of five houses linked together, each one seventeen feet wide. We were a mixture of "white painters" and homes for the helpless, a noisy union hall at the top of the street and a pub at the bottom.

At first, the front "yard" was cement and eventually I had a portion jack-hammered out and set in a raised bed where I planted the magnolia tree you can see flourishing at the left of the big window, and we installed the old stained glass transom over the front door.

We lived so close to the city center that we could walk anywhere.

Looking out the back kitchen window there were chestnut trees towering above and from the third floor deck we had a good view of the needle-like C.N.Tower in the distance.

We raised our six kids in a shoe-box house in the suburbs and when they flew the nest we moved into this umpteen room beauty and we used every inch.

Eventually this area became prime and when Hal got too sick to work, we sold the house for many times what we paid for it and we moved into a tiny place close to the hospital.

I've moved on and life is good but I still dream about that house and it's two ghosts.

I hope the present occupants are happy there.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

The pond is burbling as it should,the aquatic plants are blooming nicely and the water lilies pop up every afternoon for a dazzling display.

Perfection, right? Well it would be if the twelve fish would report for roll call; They are either hiding out or just plain gone.

No, I don't think they provided protein for the neighborhood raccoons, no I don't. That's because I don't want to and besides, twelve would make a Guinness record for an all-in-one catch.

For the first few days they darted here and there, sampling the algae and generally testing out their new quarters. Then they disappeared.

Some new fish die; that's what they do. but all twelve?

A few days ago I spotted a flash of gold as one darted to the surface, then quickly disappeared under the plants.

Not a sign of one since.

I'll be patient a bit longer and assume they are noshing on all the goodies that ponds provide. Perhaps in a week or so, they'll stagger out weighing three times more than when they arrived here.

I'd really like some action soon, and to be on the safe side, raccoons are not welcome.

Did We Just Have summer?

Okay, I know it's the first week in June but really people, I think the blooming season is almost done.

Look at the Honeysuckle--it's gorgeous.

Here in south central Ontario we are accustomed to long, chilly once-in-a-while-hot spring times, until one day it's summer and the tulips look silly.
Then, in a languorous fashion, the plants decide to get into the spirit and our growng season begins.

But not this year.

This year by the twenty-fourth of May, my peonies were in full swing, the roses were coming out the the honeysuckle was gorgeous. In May for goodness sake.

It's not that I'm complaining--heaven knows I spend long, cold months dreaming for this time.



I wonder if stuff like this blooms twice in a season down south? If this longer, warmer season continues, the plants aound here might give it a shot.

The "C" Pile

In my office life, I used the three-pile system to deal with those never-ending stacks of paper: deal immediately with pile "A", put pile "B" in the pending section and toss out pile "C".

This area represents files "B" and "C".

I put the easy- to- break- down- debris into the composter and branches, weeds, things that won't break down quickly, go into this corner of the garden.

It takes some heavy animal wire and metal stakes and we're in business.

The yard immediately looks tidy and since there is a lot going on in my small space, this is a good thing.

The fern on the right was planted when that corner was empty. Then, I squeezed in a composter beside the fern and as the bin filled it shifted and only a tiny patch of green peeked out from under.

Eventually the composter moved to the other side of the yard and the flattened fern rallied and doesn't seem to mind the fence smack in the middle of its existence.

I promise to leave you alone, Fern, and thanks for your patience.

My Square Foot Of Heaven

The deck has a brand new motorized awning, so we don't have to run inside if it rains in the middle of barbecuing.
The China Berry and honeysuckle vines are well established over the archway and have reached the, "Hi, how are you?" stage as they pass one another.
Way at the back at the left, the striped awning gives extra shade to the orchids in their summer quarters and the're busy soaking up energy for their next dazzling debut.

All in all, summer is progressing beautifully.

The Garden, Year #6

The Chinese Rhubarb was clawing its way the sky so I gave it a haircut. Lo and behold,tucked away behind that monster was a Clematis I planted last year and forgot about.

The head observing sideways belonged to a perfectly nice statue that didn't survive a wind storm.

Son #3 made me the lattice to hide the clothes dryer and sons #2and 5 made the raised bed that contains the mighty rhubarb.

It gives the small yard an interesting element so that the eye doesn't just sweep up and over in the bat of an eyelash.

Eventually the Clematis and Virginia Creeper will cover both sides of the lattice to form its own art display.

Unless the Chinese Rhubarb consumes it all.

Baby Steps In The Garden

The garden is coming along, despite the heat/cold/wind and rain storms. You know--spring.
I planted the Bachelor's Buttons last year and they will nicely fill up any space I allot them.By the look of them,they will take over if I let them.

This is the first of the tulips along the back bed. This wild little guy teams up well with the forget-Me-Nots.

The Chinese Rhubarb is again beating its mighty chest. I googled to see whether it's edible and it apparently is not but it can be used for medicine. I will check another time to see what it can help. Boggles the mind just to think about it.

Meanwhile, back indoors where I wait out the vagaries of the weather, Orchid lords it over the seedlings. They have been properly intimidated with this kind of leadership.

This is Spring--Really

Rabbit has been sprayed blue this season and he's going to manage the garden from the top of the grotto.

Pansy popped up from nowhere on the path and is the first to bloom with tulips and daphs showing signs of unfurling pretty soon.
I have never bothered with pansies in the past but last year, I had this Zen moment when I realized they give so much and ask so little in return.
Besides, I won a pot of them at a bridge game.

This little guy also seeded himself from the original mother ship. He's holding his own against the dandelions and they're all looking rather pretty right now.
Either I feel that way or I have to weed.

A Door is Born

My #3 son the carpenter had a couple of days free and he decided to install a deck off the family room.

In this picture #1 son is helping to bash down part of the wall.

Then comes the cutting away of the plaster on the inside.


The wall is down and the lady of the house is wondering how she is expected to cook meals for the next while--the next while is when the brick dust is settling into every crevice in the house.

She wisely opts for dinner out while she thinks it over.

And the new door is in. The old window it replaced is leaning against the wall on the right.

In the beginning it was like one of those children's rhymes--there was small house with lot of itty bitty rooms--that kind of tale.

First, #3 chopped out a wall and a narrow staircase off the kitchen, revealing two tiny bedrooms that soon lost their adjoining walls and a big room was born.

So now we have a kitchen/ family room in their basic stages--and that tiny window in the family room appeared to be begging, "free me." and that seemed a good time to consider installing the deck and a door to get to the deck.

I suspect there will be a domestic mutiny if the kitchen isn't soon turned into a pleasant working space.

Hey- You Weren't Invited.

I've never felt warm and fuzzy about squirrels since the year I grew my first tulips and the little rotters snapped off all the heads. Just like that. they didn't bother to eat them or store them in their memory books--no sir, just snap off and move on was their motto.

So, when they come to check out the bird feeder, I don't send them packing but I do snarl.

This guy felt right at home as he gobbled up his breakfast.



This one waited his turn and then found it easier to scarf up the leavings on the ground.

Now go away, far away and get a life.

Thai Wedding

Number three son recently married his bride for the second time in her home town of Bangkok.
The first time was in Canada but that didn't cut it with her relatives.
The photographer went all-out and had them change into various marriage costumes.

Now I ask you would you buy a used car from this man?
Stay with me.

If the relatives had never met Steve, they would be visibly quaking by now.

Thanks for waiting. This is the real Steve.
His bride Aw is truly awesome and he'd be happy to marry her again.